When the boot tied to the washing line swings your way …

The other day I had a little chat on twitter about family.

My literary buddy James said ‘Sometimes family is like a boot tied to a rotating hills hoist: it just keeps hitting you in the head if you don’t step out of the way.’

A little while later I replied.

No matter who your family are, they are the ones that land the body blows. There are the ones that catch you in the back of the head when you are quietly just getting on with things, like hanging out the washing. As much as they love and support you, they can also knock you for six. Well mine do. Almost daily.

When my darling toddler wakes up at 10-30pm and has a big roll over and cries; when will that stop distressing me? It undoes me, every night. He is fine, of course, just resettling. But he cries, breaks my heart, turns over and unaware, just goes back to sleep. I stand pathetically at his door, listening.

Family, they can do that to a person!

I could step out of the way. I could avoid that boot. I could re-adjust my thoughts about the roll over. After all, it’s just a sleeping pattern. He’s not really awake. He’s not upset. And yet I can’t bring myself to beat down the instinct that says, he needs me. He doesn’t. Or that a cuddle would make him feel better. It wouldn’t. Or I could think, this happens every night, he’s fine.

But I can’t.

I can’t duck the boot marked family aimed at my head.