People have often asked me how do I do it. I say I put toothpaste on the bristles and rub it furiously against my pearly whites like everybody else, what did you expect?? I kid, I kid. What the reference is is to raising 3 children (2 having learning disabilities plus major life long health issues), working, running a household, going to the gym etc. I’m always taken aback by the query and the answer is always the same.. I don’t ever stop and think about. I just do it. And I find if, for those ultra brief times of them spending a couple days my moms place or an evening with their mother, I am completely thrown off my game and need to work to re-adjust. But the bottom line is it’s just muscle memory. It’s something that needs my attention so I give it.
12 years how I’ve had custody and all that time I don’t stop and think. Until now.
What makes today different? The concentration of need is continually accelerating and my own health is also in the mix now. I’m not saying I can’t handle it (and God bless my mother for her help with all the appts she’s attended with one or both of my daughters in my place) but man, what I’d do to have a good wife or even better, have a clean (or cleaner!!) bill of health in this household.
The monthly trips to the children’s hospital for the girls IVIG treatments. The monthly bloodwork. The monitoring and doling out and replenishment of their synthroid pills. And their lax powder. And their vitamins. And their iron supplements. And their nasal sprays. And lindsey’s puffer. And the ongoing humidifier and the nose bleeds of Lexis. Hearing the constant cough of Lindsey day and night. The lethargy in both of them. Hearing Lindsey sing along to a song, only to cough her heart out throughout. The emails and calls from school. The lack of understanding. The lack of any friendships outside of each other. And I guarantee I’m forgetting other notable items to mention.
And then there’s me. Recent success with the overcoming of alcohol addiction is one good thing I have going. However, my health has apparently been declining over the past couple years. High blood pressure garnering 3 pills a day. High hemoglobin. Kidney damage. Sleep apnea. The recent foot damage then infection nightmare then bad reaction to pills resulting in anaphylactic shock. And now 2 weeks later, I am off again for a week and running another 7 day antibiotic cycle to hopefully kill off the remaining infection. And the icing? 2 weeks from tomorrow, I go for umbilical hernia surgery, taking me out of life and works picture for 7 to 10 more days. Hobbling and wobbling. Reeling and dealing. Parenting and.. anywho.
So all this being verbalized, yes, I want there to be a big, bright red button, similar to the nuclear war button, that A) pauses my responsibilities and B) doles out like 3 nurses (sure, beautiful ones!) to take care of us and the house, even just for a day. Or an hour. To be relinquished of all of this.. I can’t imagine the weight lifted off.
But then I feel guilty for wanting help. This is my life, for me to be living, not to be escaping. I love those buggers more than I could ever love myself. And so it continues as it should. I am blessed but sonofabee, it’s intensive.