*having a carry on: Scottish for misbehaving, being giddy.
It is an hour and a half since I put the oldest to bed, and here I am climbing the stairs again.
It’s my turn, as Mr HB went up half an hour ago.
‘Why won’t you go to sleep? You are both grumpy all day, and then when we put you to bed, you have a carry on* for hours.’
‘Mummy, it’s too light.’
‘It is not. You’re not even trying to sleep. Go to bed. And no more nonsense!’
I went to bed early, as I usually do, and a grey light came through the curtains, even at half ten when I put my light off.
5am, and I’m up again. The sun is already up, the sky is blue. I realise the kids were right:
it’s too light.
Today I have been thinking about…darkness.
I’m not talking about the darkness of winter or the darkness of the depth of the night. Well I am, metaphorically. I know, I know, she kept to the positivity thing for what, two months?
When you go to bed dreading something. You wake and it’s already happening: you are powerless to stop or even impact it. When your voice on social media merely echoes the voices around you. You all know that decisions have been taken and that they are wrong, but those who represent you don’t give a damn. When those with power refuse to recognise the futility of the full circle, terror mirroring. That’s when it feels like darkness reigns.
It is difficult, at these times, to lift your eyes to glimmers of light.
But we must.
They are there.