Under Pressure

Is it just me or is everything getting harder?

There seems to be so much more to deal with nowadays.

If it’s not one thing, it’s another.  Like trying to achieve things that have been beyond my reach for ages - sorting out the attic, losing weight or mastering my nemesis - the iPhone.

Last month it was the washing machine.  It broke beyond repair and we had to buy a new one the day after we put our house on the market.

Then Ireland went down the toilet financially just after the advertising cheque was cashed by the estate agent who is selling our house.

A few weeks ago, our daughter decided to block the plug hole in the shower so she could play swimming with her toys.  The result was a flooded en suite and a big leak into the dining room.

Last week, our gas boiler broke and leaked all over the microwave. 

All these problems cost a lot of money, which when you consider the really important person coming to visit our children in less than three weeks time, we could do without having to deal with right now.

The latest drama in our home happened this morning, when we awoke to a loud cracking sound coming from somewhere in the house.

At first, panic hit and we ran to check the kids – you never know.  Even though they’re little, they can do a lot of damage in a short space of time.  Our relief to find them playing happily was short lived when we discovered a rather large chunk of the gutter lying broken across the extension roof.

Unless you’re living in Ireland, you won’t know we are going through one of the coldest snaps the country has ever experienced.  We are struggling under mounds of snow and ice that our infrastructure is not designed to cope with. 

The ice was the enemy in the case of our poor guttering.  It didn’t know what hit it and just couldn’t cope.

We then started the Internet search for people in our area who can fix our problem and discussing insurance etc.  We’re pretty good at this sort of thing by now.

Little did we know that the 8 foot piece of shattered gutter was only the beginning of today’s issues.  Within half an hour a much larger crack and very loud BANG! sent us running again.  This time the remainder of the guttering and some other stuff from the back of our house had come down onto the deck and our garden furniture.  I suppose waterproofing the furniture last summer could only protect it from certain winter assailants.

The panic subdued for a moment but then we started thinking about the front, so the cars had to be moved just in case bits of the house decided to fall on them too.  We would, after all, need something to drive away in from what was left of the wretched structure if it came to it.

I then got upset, very upset and started doing that thing where I pretend there’s something in my eye so the kids would stop asking why I was crying. 

I know things could be worse and there are many poor souls out there in a much dire condition than us and I have no right to moan.  We’ve got our health, our kids are well, my husband has a good job, the heating works, there’s always chocolate.

It’s just that some days I get so sick of the drama and problems of daily toil and would like a quiet life for a while.  One where nothing goes wrong.  One where we would all sit on the couch in our jammies in front of the glow of a warm fire, safe in the knowledge that all is well.  Sipping cocoa and chatting about our day with eachother.  The kids wouldn’t hit eachother for fun.  I would be wearing pyjamas that actually match. 

On the Brightside, thanks to the flattened garden table, we’ve got extra wood to burn in the fireplace tonight and most of the chairs survived, so we’ll have a place to sit next summer with our food on our laps.

It’ll be fine, nothing a bottle of red after the kids go to bed can’t cure – right?