Five hours previously I had posted a picture with a brief message alluding to Joseph's successful first day back in the school saddle; I'd been mentioned on twitter as part of '7 Special Needs Mother Bloggers You Must Follow'; had a decent run after dropping laddo off at school and bought the dog's bollocks of all trainers.
I was pleased that Joseph hadn't cried about going back to school, slightly disappointed that he had spent a brief period in the cupboard that masquerades as a cloakroom before venturing into the classroom, but overjoyed that when I went to collect him and found that he had not kicked the shit out of anyone.
Each day after school, I always ask Joseph the same questions and I always get the same responses.
Me What have you been doing today?
Joseph Reading and writing
Me What have you had for dinner?
Joseph Jacket potato
Today I asked him what he had done and he told me he had played with two of his classmates. I nearly broke down in tears for two reasons; he had given an appropriate response to a question and not one but two children had played with him. A simple response may not provoke as much emotion to other parents whose children do not struggle with relationships and social interaction. For me, I was elated at Joseph's first day triumph.
So later, when THE feeling hit me like I'd just been kicked in the stomach, I couldn't understand why I felt this way. In typical me fashion, I tried to analyse why I couldn't be content that we'd both had a great day without worrying about the next hurdle.
The only way I can attempt to full describe my feelings is to use a running analogy.
Imagine training for months on end for a race and you had put every ounce of energy into perfecting your training so you could produce a brilliant performance. And incredibly, you deliver the performance but when you finish, your body is exhausted and you are mentally drained due to the months of physical and emotional energy you have invested. You are elated at what you have achieved, but you are already worried about the next race and whether you'll execute it as well. All you want to do is lie down, rest, possibly enjoy your achievement and hope that the next race will be even better.
And that is where I am right now. For me, I'll always be on a treadmill and whether we'll be running on the flat, uphill or downhill it's anyone's guess. I know there is no significant rest period and there will be another run tomorrow. Maybe it won't be THE event of the year and it won't get the coverage the big run today has but it's another run and I hope the training will suffice.
I have a love/hate relationship with running, but I am determined to kick the shit out of each and every run we are entered in.
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