I am going to celebrate this weekend by getting a pedicure. I have already chosen my nailpolish. It will be bright red. In addition I am getting myself some new super gorgeous high heels. On sale of course
The reason for my celebratory mood is that my self imposed death sentence has been lifted. Now whilst clearly my death is a non negotiable factor, like most people, I am keen to postpone that particular date for as long as possible.
But last week I noticed something odd about my toes. Now my toes are weird. It would be wrong of my to delude you into thinking otherwise, and to prevent me from losing readers I won't go into the specifics of what it was that was strange about them.
But having noticed, I duly googled it.
This was very unwise.
My googling solemnly diagnosed me with something serious, occasionally fatal and almost certainly involving an invasive and painful medical procedure.
My husband is well used to my diagnosis of serious illnesses which turn out to be nothing, but even he was impressed with the wealth of literature I showed him.
I then phoned my GP who is equally aware of my propensity to hysteria, and kindly fitted me in the next day.
Whilst he was sure it was nothing serious, (he even bought in two of his colleagues to check for me) he dispatched me to a specialist to be sure.
I have spent much of my time the past week planning my funeral (it will be really lovely btw) writing lists for Husband on how to raise the Offspring to be upstanding members of the community and generally freaking the hell out.
What a waste of my time and energy.
Specialist saw odd toes, promptly diagnosed something minor and sent me on my merry way.
I learned a valuable lesson from this experience. Worrying is a waste of time. I have wasted ALOT of time worrying about this.
My only issue with this is, how do I not worry?
When well meaning people say; "try not to worry" my immediate thought is HOW? Is there a mechanical process I can engage in to do that? Is there something at the shops I can buy, a pill I can take?
So whilst I will be celebrating the fact that my odd, and now very precious toes, live to fight another day I'm worrying about how do I learn not to worry.
Thoughts, suggestions welcome
xxxx

This week I've found myself doing alot of snapping and shouting. I blame the weather in part. It's been 40 degrees plus recently. I blame stress. In addition to worrying about Mr Large and his literacy "issues" we've discovered his teacher is taking leave, effective almost immediately. I feel sad for her and really, really stinking upset for my son who thinks she's wonderful. It's the week before my Bronze Medallion exams, FINALLY next week I'll get the exams out of the way and hopefully (fingers tightly crossed) pass them. I screwed up the courage to sign up for a course to improve my writing, and now it's almost here I'm terrified they will tell me my writing is AWFUL. And mother in law's birthday is coming up and apparently I have to organise to go out for a meal with them. On Sunday. Great.
So I haven't been a very nice person in general.
And then yesterday I had a lightbulb moment and I had this incredibly random thought.
What if I died, and my husband remarried and I was watching down from heaven, and saw his new wife treating my children and him, the way I am treating them?
I would want to kill her.
Or maim her at the very least.
Now apart from being a random idea, and for those of you who don't believe in the ever after, telling me I'm stupid beyond words, I think my point has merit.
And since then I've thought twice before snapping, or yelling.
I even told my husband to have a great time at his poker night.
I smiled at my children when they wanted to read the same story for the 7th time. And read it, with accents and everything.
And when Mr Small could not stop sobbing, because he loves his daddy and if daddy doesnt put him to bed the world will end or something.
Well I ignored my fatigue and the fact that I REALLY wanted to watch the latest episode of "Greys Anatomy" and we snuggled.
Until he did this.
And I loved every second of it.
I thought the "upstairs me" would approve.