At about twenty past three yesterday the doorbell went. Mostly the only people who call unannounced are people trying to sell you something. I could see as I approached the door whoever it was was wearing a suit, so that seemed even more likely. I thought about not answering it (they can be a bit pushy), but decided to give whoever it was a break. I opened the door, and said hello.

The person turned around, and it was my Dad! I was delighted to see him. He lives a hundred kilometers away from me and so I don’t see him very often. He was in Dublin for an archeological conference and decided to drop in.

Oh, but it was nice to see him. Having him here made me aware of something, however. I am so anxious so much every day that its not funny. We were sitting on the couch and I was spilling out conversation in a rat-ta-tat, urgent way. Why couldn’t I slow down? Why not just relax? Because, I am able to see, I respond all day and night to my little boy’s demands with just that sense of urgency, that I am utterly wound up and panicky without even realising it. Huh.

I don’t think there is a way one can remove all anxiety straight away. Its served me well so far, in that the little man is doing great. But it doesn’t seem healthy to be fearful and manic all day every day. No wonder my son’s Dad is better at getting him to laugh.

Oh well. At least Dad liked the biscuits.