First off, Qatar looks more and more remote. Things are good at DH"s work and I am enormously relieved. That said, if we do have to up sticks and move I'll be alot braver about it this time round!
I've been distinctly out of sorts these past few days.
I've been back working in an office, wearing nice clothes and interacting with grown ups who respect my opinion. I think it's testament to how lacking in confidence I have become, that they told me to stop apologising for offering my viewpoint or thoughts.
I mean, it was like a reflex action. Am I the only person who does this?
I only worked for a few days but it's nice. It's nice to dip in and feel respected and valued.
It's also nice to use a proper coffee machine.
It's good to be back home picking up the threads of my household and spinning them back into some kind of order.
So why the sense of unease?
Well tonight my parents dropped over with some dinner for me. DH is away at the moment and they are very supportive of me.
They were telling me how my brothers were doing.
One is back from presenting a paper at a medical conference, one is off to the USA to pursue his studies in biomechanics, one just did a major photoshoot with Olympic gold medallists and one has been nominated for finalist for Life Saver of the year.
And me?
I just finished combing conditioner through my childrens hair to ensure they don't have head-lice and had to comfort my son after he got given a blood nose at school.
And that's the thing about my "job"
There are no awards, no tangible markers that let you know you are doing a good job. And truly, for someone like me who spent her life being "measured."
Did my classes get enough good grades?
Did my SEN pupils make solid progress?
Did I get that promotion?
I don't have anything to measure my achievements.
I have sent off my application to study Theology though!
So I have been sitting here feeling sorry for myself. But I started checking emails and one came through. I subscribe to this site where they send you a Bible quote each day. I must confess alot of the time I don't read them properly.
But this one really struck me. It said:" So don't be afraid; you are more valuable to God than a whole flock of sparrows."
And that was really what the unease was.
It was me being AFRAID.
Afraid I didn't measure up. Afraid I wasn't good enough.
But that really doesn't matter, does it?
I also know that this fear is so meaningless in that context. And the reality is, I would chew my right arm off before I gave up this life or my precious children. I wouldn't change this, or them for anything.
The other day, I worked at the office all day, then I tutored all evening and collapsed into bed exhausted.
Then the cry went up from Mr Small.
So I wended my way to his room.
He was of course, disproportionately pleased to see me.
I broke my own rules and picked him up for a cuddle.
We lay on the couch, me drowsing.
Him grinning with glee.
Then he did something he's never done before.
He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.
Then he lay his head on my shoulder and promptly fell asleep.
So yes.
I'd chew my right arm off for this.
And I'll try to remember.
What I do matters.
ALOT.