Dream team/Tinnitus/Honesty

We went away this weekend, all four of us. We haven’t been away as a complete family since October 2019 because, well, certain people are getting older (OK, we’re all getting older but, you know) and getting careers off the ground and leading their own lives, which is totally what should be happening. It’s no secret that the holiday in 2020 was different and not just because it was in the middle of a global pandemic. The first year without T was going to be weird for all of us (even him, being left behind to fend for himself, ha ha). We thought the second year might be easier and it was in some ways and not in others. But we’ve already talked about that in Alpacas, feelings and football

Anyway, winter was looming, I was feeling pretty crappy (Somethings gotta give) and K was feeling sorry for me so we booked a weekend away – with the huge added bonus (after some strategic planning with the dates) that T was on a rest weekend and was not only happy to come with us, but actually pretty keen. I’m pretty sure if he hadn’t been free, A would have opted to stay at home and it would have been a break for two and not four.

We headed off at midday on Friday, after picking A up from school and waking T up after a few hours kip following a night shift (it was fine, he slept a bit in the car and he tries to have as normal a day sleep-wise as possible coming off nights) with a holdall each in the boot and some journey snacks in the front. We’d tried to find somewhere in the Whitstable area (it’s been on my list for a while) but unless we wanted a static caravan (not an option in the middle of summer let alone the cold of November) or a Premier Inn, we were out of luck. Then K came up trumps with a lovely little cottage in Halesworth, Suffolk, a short way from our old favourites Southwold and Aldeburgh. It couldn’t have been better: decent rooms, comfortable, well-equipped (in terms of a working kettle, toaster and microwave) – I had no intention of cooking ANYTHING all weekend. It was toasty warm, cosy and welcoming.

By 3pm we had dropped off our bags, (no point unpacking – unless you’re A and like all your stuff around you), had a cuppa, and were walking along the promenade in Southwold, breathing in the sea air, watching the waves lapping gently and the sun going down. Bliss. I really feel so at home in Suffolk, and K and I would love to retire there one day. One day. We can dream. And for the weekend we lived the dream. Visiting favourite places, eating fish and chips on the beach, stopping for a pint in the pub, tea and cake, walking on the beach, and then back to the cottage to cosy down in the evenings. We laughed, bantered (I hate that word but it’s the truth), ate A LOT and it felt like the dream team were back together again. Two nights/two days isn’t a long time but it was just enough to take a breath, step away from the day to day and have some time to just be us.

Of course, back home on Sunday night, A realised that she didn’t have clean uniform for the next day so I ended up sorting a load of washing, she ended up doing homework (not urgent but she’s determined to keep on top of it), and K took the bins out. Normal life resumed and on it goes. But I am keeping the sound of the sea fresh in my mind and will try not to let it go.

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I’ve suffered with tinnitus on and off for years and it definitely gets worse when I am less than completely chilled. I don’t want to say stressed because I bandy that expression around too much. So, I’m not stressed, I’m just not completely chilled. And my ears are not happy: I’ve either got a noise that only dogs should be able to hear, or my heart-beat booming away, or my voice echoes in my head like a Dalek – and sometimes I get all three! It’s much worse at night when it’s quiet – ironically one of the main suggestions on the NHS website is to try and have noise at all times, be that music or the radio playing. Which is fine, unless you get some very unexpectedly loud noise/song, and not really practical at night. Not helpful. – and I can’t wear my ear plugs to block out K’s breathing so I not only lay awake with my ears booming, I have to endure K breathing loudly in his lovely, deep sleep. No, I am not bitter.

As a result, I was not looking forward to our team meeting this morning. I have very lively colleagues who tend to talk quite loudly and over each other. Because we only see each other once a month now, it can be quite high-pitched both in terms of excitement and voices (theirs on both counts, not mine on either). I mentioned the ear situation to D (boss man) and apologised if I made any pained expressions as a result of. Luckily, we kept things on track (as much as possible) and it was all over in a couple of hours.

Hopefully the phone appointment I’ve got with the GP tomorrow will elicit some suggestions to alleviate the problem and, if not, I will be shutting myself in a room with the radio for the foreseeable.

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As they were leaving the office after the meeting, the parting words were “see you at the Christmas do!”. Ah. The Christmas Do. That old chestnut. Last year, I saw the absence of a Christmas Works Do to be a very bright silver lining in the dismal grey clouds of the Cancelled Covid Christmas (A slight change to proceedings). Sadly, this year it seems that we are throwing caution to the wind and the dreaded email invitation plopped into my inbox a week or so ago. Thankfully, I do have a genuine prior engagement with the lovely Poppy Petals, so was able to say with total honesty that I wouldn’t be able to attend. Expecting the suggestion of a potential date change, as luck would have it, I already had plans for the previous Friday too. No suggestion was forthcoming and it seemed I was off the hook! Hurrah. Just before the others arrived for the meeting I was talking to D (boss man) and the Works Do was mentioned (in another context, regarding the new warehouse person). I muttered something vague about not being able to make it and that I genuinely had other plans, but then found myself saying that in all honesty if I hadn’t got plans it was still highly unlikely that I would have gone. We’ve talked about this before and D knows how much I hate large group events and how stressed it makes me feel (I am allowing the use of stressed in this instance as it is totally valid) and he was very lovely about it. I do think honesty is the best policy and I have nothing to feel embarrassed about. But I did bottle it when they were all saying “see you at the Christmas do”. I didn’t say yes, but I didn’t say “no, I won’t be there”, either. I don’t know why. I’m just glad that I don’t have to spend the next three weeks worrying about it, trying to think of an excuse to drop out at the last minute, dreading the evening approaching and wondering how I will get through it. Instead, I will be able to look forward to the plans I have made with the lovely people in my life who get me, who understand me and who take me as I am, no questions asked.

a higher ebb

When A finished her GCSE’s she had 3 months off school. It worried her to think she had so much time ahead with not much to occupy her. But her confidence was at such a low ebb that she couldn’t even contemplate looking for a paid job. We talked about it for a while and one day when we were out and about rummaging in the local charity shops we realised the perfect solution would be for her to become a volunteer – she would get to work in her favourite type of shop without any of the pressure of being paid and the high expectations she imagined came with it. We enquired (I say “we” because she was too scared to ask on her own) at her favourite shop in Harpenden and she was sent away with an application form. We returned with said form a few days later to be told by the manager that there were no vacancies. I think she registered A’s crestfallen face and took pity on her. She had wrongly assumed that A would want to work on Saturdays (like most other students) and that it was for a DofE challenge, again wrongly. After clearing that up and explaining that she just wanted to volunteer to gain some confidence and improve her people skills, and that she was available any time of the day or week, the manager completely changed her mind. A has been working there ever since, one day or two during the week while she was off school and every Saturday morning since she started at ESA. She loves it there and I think the feeling from the other staff is mutual.

After a very short time, her confidence was coming back bit by bit and apart from a few grumpy customers (and one very thoughtless comment from someone who should know better) she has found the whole experience incredibly positive and she looks forward to going in each week. She gets on so well with everyone from the manager’s 90 year old mum to the other young volunteers, and has built up a great rapport with the “regulars” since she’s been till-trained (something she never wanted to even think about when she started there back in June).

Since the summer a lot of her friends have started getting paid jobs and I broached the idea of her looking for something that would help her to earn some money (perhaps to start saving for driving lessons, although the idea terrifies her) and did she think her confidence was improved enough? She took some time to think it over and just before half term she asked if I would help her put a CV together, which I did. We talked about what sort of work she would like to do, where she could envision herself working and she came up with Boots and The Body Shop (so that it would link a bit to her course), and possibly a café if those two were a dead end. Our mission on the Friday of half term was to suss out the various options and ask about vacancies. She was told by the staff in Boots, The Body Shop and Bare Minerals (we saw it on our travels and thought it was worth a punt) that she would need to look and apply online.

Boots and Bare Minerals are not currently recruiting for the hours that she can do, but The Body Shop have a vacancy for 8 hours over 2 shifts and so we uploaded her CV. A day later she got a call from the manager inviting her in for an interview. She went on Saturday and we are now playing the waiting game to see if she was successful. She is being very chilled about it all and if she doesn’t get it she’ll just carry on at the charity shop until something else comes up. There are a couple of cafes that may be looking for staff and her 8 in her Food Tech GCSE will come in useful if she decides to try that route. But for now we are keeping our fingers crossed that she gets a positive response from The Body Shop.

For me, it’s not really about whether she gets the job or not, I’m just so pleased that her confidence has been restored to a point where she feels strong enough to not only walk into a store and ask the staff about a job (I went in with her but insisted she did all the talking this time – and she didn’t need me there at all, she was great), but to arrange an interview and get herself there, and with barely a moment of anxiety.

As a small child she would never worry about walking into a room alone – whether that was nursery, a party, a soft play area, a dance class – she always made friends with other children instantly and was never shy or awkward. The gradual change that started when she got to about 9 is appalling to think about really. To see her at 14, 15, 16 looking like she wished she was invisible was heart-breaking to witness as her parent, especially compared to the confident small child that she had been.

But seeing her make the massive decision to start at a new school, to go to an induction day not knowing another soul, to go to her first day knowing only the 2 or 3 people she’d met on induction day, and now to be rocking up to an interview for a paid job, makes my heart sing and makes me hopeful that she will continue to grow and grow in confidence. When she does eventually leave the charity shop I will be sending them a very heartfelt thank you for helping her to feel some of the confidence she (and I) took for granted when she was a little child.