Helping hug

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You know me. Parkinson’s isn’t a big theme here most of the time but sometimes I get thinking about how it erodes the normality of life and in particular today, my role as a mother.

You can imagine how frustrating it is to have to ask for help, to worry that people are wondering why you’re not scooping up your errant toddler as they’re approaching a playground precipice, to not feel quite in control.

Today was a low point on the self-belief front and then little one refused to settle tonight until I gave him a hug.

We cuddled tight and he gave me a lovely kiss and snuggled up on me. Bliss. Just what I needed to remind me that wobbliness, brain shenanigans and worries mean nothing to little one. He just wants his mum. And that’s me. Thank goodness.

Photo is totally unrelated btw. I just like these drawers.

2 responses to “Helping hug”

  1. That sounds distressing. I trust that everyone is unharmed?

    I had a not dissimilar experience today when a friend (who knows of my diagnosis but not much else) leapt up to save my 5 year-old daughter from herself (and a deflated bouncy castle that she was daft enough to be investigating) at virtually the same time as I did. My daughter wasn’t in any actual danger – the only urgency was to tell her not to play there. Minor embarrassments all round, quickly forgotten.

    But I dread not being fully capable of acting. I have steadfastly forgone volunteering to help in the school swimming pool, not because it is an outdoor pool and consequently cold (well, not much), but because I am no longer certain of my physical abilities. I’m helping in the school library, this year, instead.

    Like

    1. All ok thanks. More my paranoia really. I’m sure everyone has their own version of parental worry, PD is an extra dimension isn’t it?

      Like

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