Today is not a good day. You know those days where it’s hard to get out of bed in the morning, and no matter how many cups of coffee you drink, you never quite seem to wake up? Today, despite having the heating on full blast, the office feels cold (we woke up to snow this morning) and my to-do list looks never-ending. A very large part of me wishes I could have just stayed at home today.
I know why I’m feeling quite so melancholy today – after a very busy November, I’m really not looking forward to the next few weeks. As anyone who follows us on Twitter knows, Stace and I spent last weekend in Paris, celebrating our third anniversary – it was a fantastic long weekend, full of wonderful food, fantastic views and one of the biggest baths I’ve ever seen. In short, it was amazing and I can’t imagine a better way to have celebrated.
This weekend, my mum came to visit, along with her mum and dad – my grandparents. My nan and granddad looked after my cousins, brother and I for many of our childhood summers – when our parents were at work, we’d be off exploring castles or feeding horses or climbing the apple tree in their front garden. They’re role models to me; they work hard, love their family dearly and would protect all of us in a heartbeat. It was absolutely wonderful having them stay. But even better was a full weekend that I could spend with my mum.
I’ve grown from a teenager who never ever got on well with her mother to a 24 year old who seeks her advice on more or less everything in my life. Whether it’s something at work which has upset me, or requests for help when our fridge-freezer broke down, it’s my mum I call. I trust her advice implicitly, and take her opinions of people seriously – her disapproval of old friends has always proved founded, and she has always, always looked out for my best interests. I don’t know what I would do without her.
And as much as I love it when she comes to stay, there is absolutely nothing like the way it feels when she leaves, and I have to start counting down until I’ll next see her. It is the hardest, hardest part of living in Scotland – not being able to sit and catch-up with a cup of tea, wanting a cuddle when something has stressed me out and not being able to have one.
I’ve talked before about my reasons for wanting to be closer to Essex, and whilst my career is important, the real reason that I would love to move down south is just to be nearer to my mum. There is never anything harder than hearing her voice crack as she hugs me goodbye, and yesterday it tipped me over the edge. I was sobbing by the time the airport bus drove out of sight, and on my walk home I’d mentally written my resignation letter for work and packed up all of my stuff so I could move back down south after Christmas.
Now, I don’t expect any sympathy from anyone else when it comes to this. I made the choice to move to Edinburgh with Stacey two-and-a-half years ago, and it’s my decision to stay even now. And I know so many people would love to be in my position – long distance couples who would (and have!) move halfway around the world to be with their other half, taking them far further from their families than I am right now. And I’ve got to say – I don’t know how other people do it, because I am never as miserable as I am when I’ve just said goodbye to my mum.
We had a wonderful weekend – hopefully I’ll share some of the best bits of the weekend soon – and the memories from Paris and Disneyland are still fresh in my mind too – but at the moment, all I want to do is feel sorry for myself, curl up with my girl and start counting down the minutes until I’m home for Christmas.Carley