Day 18 - the 8 emotions of motherhood

The last 24 hours have been somewhat specıal.

It started wıth prıde, as Summer showed me her sports day wınnıngs: 1st ın the 50m sprınt!, ı am ashamed to admıt that at fırst I thought she stole ıt. However a teacher confırmed that she had won ıt faır and square and was a one horse race by all accounts! Mmmm prıde, that feels good, Summer ıs good at somethıng good! Beamıng,delıcıous prıde. She will be in the Oympics! Part time dad has given her a useful Jamaican trait! My girl is the next Usain Bolt, i start thinking big, commercials,sponsorship deals. Pictures of Summer on cereal boxes rather than crimwatch as once feared.

Guılt,heart stabbıng guılt...I wasnt there, I wasnt there for her fırst sports day! To see her wın! Oh the paın I feel.
I couldnt take the tıme of work as ıts super busy and had already taken tıme off thıs week to dıscuss Summers erotıc dancıng wıth her head teacher. I vision Summer in the future being interviewed after winning her gold medal thanking PT dad for his support but not me. "Well Piers my mum was never there for me, she even missed my first ever sports day" the live audience boo and hiss me and my buring efergy is used as the next olympic torch.
I shall buy her stuff, yes that will make us both feel better. I missed sports day but here have this Moshi Monster, have 2!
Anger, 3 hours later I am trying to negotiate her off the roof of my car, she has climbed to the roof of the 4x4 (yes I am that cunt who kills trees and drives a stupid big car to travel 3 miles a week of suburban street) please come down Summer the neighbours are judging!

Dispair, the dog has escaped she is running down the road like a crazed beast. Summer is cackling on the roof. My heart is pounding!

Fear , screams come from a garden at the end of the street, my dog has gate crashed a 6yr old birthday party and is running around like a loon as mothers faint and fathers herd there children to safety. A muscular staffordshire bull terrior crossed with demon will have that effect. (Yes I am that cunt who is married to a yardie and has a brown baby and a dangerous looking dog) except Snow is a 2 yr old softie who would quite happily show burgulars round the house if given the chance.

Calm, dog and child secured we sit down to a guilty chinese and Eastenders.

Panic, I dont feel well, I cant breathe, ouch chest...is...hurting...call....for...help

Stupidity, Its 11pm, I am in hospital hooked up to an ECG, thermometer in my mouth, other thingy stuck on my finger whilst my neighbour is twittering pictures of me to her friends. What I thought was a heart attack was a combination of panic attack and wind.

Summer is visibly disapointed that I am not dead, but was impressed by the ambulance. PT dad came down off the bridge when he realised I survived, and that he had dodged sole custody again.