Wednesday, 15 February 2017

Whirring half term thoughts



We're a couple of days into Half Term.

The girls have stopped the bickering they seem to do for the first couple of days when they just annoy each other and have settled into enjoying each others company.

Its in the holidays that I am racked with guilt that I can't currently take them places.

Facebook shows me the shiny snapshot of my friends lives that they want to share on social media.

The days out at castles, zoos, theme parks and the cinema.  Its not that we cannot afford to take them these places but suffering from panic disorder has meant that I find it really difficult to get too far from Ashford (and in all honesty sometimes even around Ashford).

It worries me that the children will miss out.

And then I try and remember what I used to do in half terms when I was their age......and (I'm sorry Mum) but I don't remember.  I'm fairly certain we didn't go out every day of the holidays as both my parents worked.  I probably spent a fair bit of time at my grandparents and they certainly didn't take me on outings.

I do remember spending time with people though.  I remember that my Mum used to take my Grandma to the supermarket every week (and it was weekly because Grandma couldn't/wouldn't plan a fortnightly menu) and I would sometimes go with them.

I remember helping (loose interpretation of the word) my Dad with whatever work he was doing on the house. I'm the daughter of a carpenter and I wanted to do whatever Dad did.

I remember Mum cooking Sunday lunch EVERY week - even when it was roasting outside with the Archers omnibus on the radio.

I'm sure there were plenty of outings and lots of money spent on trips out...but that is not what has built the memories.  Its the time with my family that I remember.

I remember feeling loved all the time.

So - if my girls don't have the outings like their friends perhaps they're not missing out on so much after all because they are loved beyond words and THAT is what I hope they remember as they grow up.