This week was tough, as I eluded to last week, it wasn’t one I was looking forward to, but I didn’t realise just how much it was going to take out of me, until we finally got to the beautiful, snowy end of it.
I woke up on Monday with a slight feeling of trepidation.
Zac had got out of bed early (a rarity, I’m usually the first one up and about) and I was thinking of the most eloquent way to tease him about this when he came back into the room, flopped down on the bed and burst into tears.
Zac’s definitely a man who’s comfortable with his emotions and when it comes to keeping tally of who’s seen who cry the most, he’s miles ahead. I knew this week wasn’t going to be easy for him, but up until that point, I hadn’t realised just how upset he was going to be.
You see, it was the anniversary of his Dad’s death on Tuesday, but Tuesday in Australia was already happening on Monday, and while I’ve seen him get upset about his Dad before, I think being surrounded by the rest of his family always helps him forget.
But he was far away from home, most of all his Mum and I guess it was all a bit much this year.
I’m the first to admit I’m a bit cold-hearted when it comes to the ‘sensitive’ things: I tend to go for a tough love approach. Next year, he’ll get tough love, but despite his Mum on Skype telling him to buck up and go to work, I know how hard it can be dealing with customers when you’re firing on all cylinders, let alone when you’re feeling a bit fragile.
And I know what Zac’s like and he’s still learning to bite his tongue.
One customer not quite listening, or being unreasonably argumentative…and it gave me a reason to take some time off work.
Mostly because I’d have been useless myself, worrying about him wallowing all day (I’m pretty sensitive on the phones as it is) and partly because I couldn’t bear the thought of work.
A week later and we’ve still not gone in to work.
We were supposed to go back on Wednesday, but I woke up with a migraine and after crying, flapping around at home with a sense of desperation bordering teenage strop and finding out that a) one of my only friends at work had been fired and b) that Zac was being sent home anyway because they ‘worried about his mental state’, I called in sick for the rest of the week and have felt better than I have for weeks.
I no longer think it’s a coincidence that my migraines and work are related…
Despite the emotional roller-coaster than has been this week, it couldn’t have ended in a more fitting way: snow.
There’s something so peaceful about snow, that I’ve been dying for Zac to experience, and despite the pathetic dusting we had the other week, it’s not been looking likely for snow.
He has seen snow before, but it’s never been outside his own house, he’s never been in the snow when it’s been snowing and he’s never experienced the bitter weather either side of snow.
I’ve had hourly snow updates from my own personal weather service, with varying degrees of (in)accuracy.
‘It says a 30% chance now and for the next five hours, so that’s a 150% chance it’ll snow tonight!’
‘Ok, it says rain, so if we get it to rain now and then hold off for the next few hours and hopefully the temperature will really drop overnight then come back up to snow temperature again…’
It’s just not as exciting as that for me anymore, but it’s hard not to be taken in by his enthusiasm.
Saturday night it started to snow, I tried to get him to bed, saying it was just sleet and that we’ll just need to sleep and see what’s happened by morning. Just as he was settling down to sleep, Mum came in to tell him it was definitely snowing. Of course he raced outside to go and stand in it and then I had to put up with him waking up every few hours to check on progress.
Sunday morning: we’d made a snowman by 8am with the Frozen soundtrack running on repeat in our heads and despite his usual enthusiasm to go to the gym, we headed straight to Calke Abbey for some near perfect winter walks.
Zac armed with his camera and me wrapped up in a million layers, tired and craving a hot chocolate.
There’s something wonderfully ethereal about the snow, something calm and peaceful. It’s natures way of wrapping everything up in a great big, soft hug and resetting.
It was perfect and felt a fitting end to a rough week: a line drawn at the end of it.
There’s no way you can feel angry in the snow, everyone was full of cheer and rosy cheeks and it was lovely to see the hoards of puffy jacketed children sledging and snowball fighting and building snowmen – Zac had to try really hard not to join in with them, but given his height and natural ability for unintentional destruction, we thought it best not to ask random 4 year olds if he could ride in their sledge.