Mad as a bag of snakes

I am fairly certain that I am on the ‘mad’ spectrum, if such a thing exists, and I am pretty sure that being Joshua’s mum has put me onto this path. I was told that I was bonkers yesterday , by a good friend, and not in a mean way as she added ‘ but I’ll tell you a secret.. all of the best people are!’ so that sweetened the pill. But I certainly agree that being non-conventional is more fun, rather than conforming and being predictable. And I am pretty sure that I gravitate towards friends who are pretty mad themselves, so that keeps life interesting.

Who else, but a mad -woman, would get up at 6am in a hotel after a long day at a family wedding? Surely I must be crazy to get up at 5am on  the day of the wedding, to bake a lemon drizzle cake for another friend’s 50th birthday tea-party, even though I could not attend? Is it not silly to welcome two stray kittens into a household that already has 4 dogs and another cat in it? They are too many examples to list as evidence but I think that I rest my case.

Perhaps I am being unfair to blame Joshua entirely for my mental state, I suspect that there was mad-potential there from a young age and it probably emerged fully once I left home, as my parents kept me sane. But a night like last night cannot help my natural tendencies : Joshua had an early bath and went to bed without complaint before 9pm. But he was still lying awake as we went up at 11pm, so I tried for two hours to persuade him to sleep, using stories, cereal and then resorting to his sedative, as his wakefulness was linked his two seizures earlier in the day I am sure, as he was giddy and noisy throughout the journey back home from the wedding, instead of sleeping. At 1am I handed him over to his dad and went to bed, but he woke me less than 2 hours later and I gave in and brought him downstairs. He watched The Show while I dozed on the settee, but I was rudely woken when he sat on my stomach and tried to join me on the settee.

I have told Joshua this morning that he is much loved – he is more lovely and more temperate than a summer’s day –  but that he cannot keep having nights like this as they are not good for his health or that of his parents. He has ignored my advice so far though, but is teasing me now at 5.30, by curling up in his armchair and closing his eyes for a couple of minutes. So you see, it is no wonder that I am driven to distraction, is it?

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