I have in the past been offered quite lucrative contracting posts in the nether reaches of England, but I have rarely hesitated in turning them down. This week I reminded myself why it is so easy to refuse relatively obscene daily rates in favour of a lesser, but still comfortable salary in Edinburgh. (Other than of course the relative security of a permanent job, and the slight but significant unease over being paid that sort of money).
Christopher headed off to Dundee last Tuesday to spend a few days with Grandad and Oma (and of course, Granny Rennie, Mad Auntie Lesley and Uncle Graeme and Auntie Pam) - giving Freya and I a chance to chill, and C the chance to be spoilt rotten for a wee while. Then, on the Wednesday night, we got a call from my Dad. Christopher was not well - nothing major, certainly not by C's standards, just an ear infection. Christopher was understandably not a happy bunny, but Calpol was doing its job and if things weren't better in the morning, a trip to the GP in Broughty Ferry for an antibiotic was on the cards.
I had absolutely no concerns about the care C would receive - after all between Dad, Janice and my Mum, there was a large amount of parenting expertise, having raised 5 children successfully to adulthood, who all turned out (fairly) normal. It still made me feel somewhat uncomfortable - I wasn't there to give the Wee Man a cuddle, help calm him down or administer the Calpol. It reminded me a bit of the darker times when Christopher was in and out of hospital and we had to take turns spending the night in a camp bed at Sick Kids. When it was my turn to spend the night at home there was almost always a twinge of regret that I couldn't be there beside him.
Looking back now, I realise that you need those nights away, because the hospital time drains you more than you notice at the time. But the sense of remoteness still gets to me. C is home tonight, snoring away quietly upstairs (before continuing his jetset lifestyle with a few days with Papa and Granny Crosbie in Kilmarnock) ear on the mend thanks to the antibiotics. And the selfish part of me that wants to keep him close is content. The generous (for want of a better word) part of me is glad that I can share him with our family and let him see more of the world than he can see at home. And I am also glad that he is confident enough that he can happily head off without too many concerns - which I am convinced is one of the positive aspects of the time that he has spent among caring strangers in Sick Kids,
I am glad that I am lucky enough to be able to stay at home with my little family most of the time - so many people - Forces or contractors or whoever - are not that fortunate.
Oh yes - and the title? A couple of weeks ago Christopher and Freya were horsing about a bit and Freya was making noises in C's ear - eventually he exclaimed "Stop yelling in my plughole!". Freya and I were in stitches, Christopher perplexed as to what exactly was so funny...
No comments:
Post a Comment