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.

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2 thoughts on “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.

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