I took my son to see Sleeping Beauty in panto yesterday (as you can see, we were pretty excited!). The performance was fantastic. Afterwards, I got thinking about the everyday pantomime that is parenting with ME and POTS. And here is what I realised:
– Although I am woken by my own handsome prince every morning – I do kinda LIKE the thought of sleeping for 100 years.
– I spend a lot of time searching for my water bottle (it’s a fate worse than death to leave the house without it when you have POTS). My four-year-old son O helps me find it by shouting, “it’s behind you!”
– Every afternoon when I try to convince O that it’s time for mummy’s rest (because I’m fresh out of energy and blood flow to my brain), he responds with: “oh no it’s not!”
– Santa is bringing O some face paints for Christmas. I strongly suspect I’ll be leaving the house looking like a pantomime Dame in my near future.
So, after careful deliberation (well, about 5 mins), and examination of the overwhelming evidence (me, exaggerate? Surely not!) … I’ve now reached the conclusion that parenting with chronic illness is, as it pans out, actually a lot like a traditional British pantomime. Only, ya know … less popular.
