Saturdays
Saturdays are sometimes my hardest days. Those are the days that I used to call Mom for absolutely no reason other than to ask her what she was doing, or ask her how she was feeling. Mostly it was just a good day to reach out and catch up with her. It wasn't unusual for her and Dad to be off doing something with the Club or off to the casino, but she would typically still be around at some point to shoot me a text or to call me back at some point. Right now Saturdays are really hard. Because I have my big MRI coming up and I'm in the middle of another flare up and I really want to talk to my mom.
In the middle of the day yesterday, after I finished up some household chores I felt capable of doing, I sat down to rest and I looked over and saw the bag of crochet work I had taken from Mom and Dad's house. It was a project my mom had swiped from my aunt to finish for her. And I took to finish when my mom no longer could. And the tears started. Because this was the kind of day, the time of day when I would instinctively reach out just to say hi. Just to check in. So I cried a little. And I found something else to do.
I had a discussion with one of my daughters about expectations vs reality and at the point where I would normally call my mom for reinforcements, I called my sister. And when I figured she would not be speaking to me for the rest of the day, my two youngest shocked me and decided I needed "pampering." So we made corn muffins with syrup as a main part of dinner (one of their favorites), they braided my hair, they gave me a face mask and a facial, and they painted my nails. We ate some chocolate. They also did the dishes and vacuumed the gobs of cat hair off of the floor for me.
I don't know if I've shared all of this or not, but I was actually diagnosed with Hypermobility Syndrome, Chronic Pain and IBS in 2016. I don't actually see anyone for pain management at this point and I'm still waiting on a call from the referral. So I manage it with things like heating pads, ice packs, a TENS unit, braces, splints, Tylenol, Biofreeze, lidocaine patches, Salonpas patches, etc. I don't take pain killers. I mostly do my best to ignore it. And the more I can stay active, the better I feel. But when I get a flare up of one part of my body, like this disc thing? EVERY SINGLE OTHER THING FLARES TOO. So when my sweet girls put the face mask on me? As I washed it off, my face was the most brilliant shade of neon red you've ever seen. Did I mention I'm allergic to, well, everything? I take two antihistamines twice a day, every day. If I didn't, that reaction would have been hideous. So when they could see, with their own two eyes how it affected me, on the outside of my body, it gave me a chance to explain how the inside of my body is affected by all of these other things. We actually had a really good talk about it. And I thanked them for being so kind and helpful.
We had to have a similar talk a few years ago about my IBS. I finally relayed it to them in the best way I could think of to explain it to kids. I told them to picture an octopus. And that octopus was holding a different sharp implement in each tentacle. So one was a cleaver, and another a machete, another a dagger, etc and that octopus was attacking my abdomen with all 8 tentacles with those weapons all at one time, some slashing, some stabbing. And I had to run to the bathroom. Right. Now. So when I said I had to go and I was in pain, picture that. So they laughed, and actually drew pictures of what they thought my "stabby, stabby octopus" looked like, but they finally understood what I meant. Now all I have to say, no matter where we are, is that I'm having a stabby, stabby octopus attack and they will help me find the nearest bathroom.
Now they've seen me have a visible, although pretty minor, allergic reaction to something as mundane as a face mask. It gave them some visible thing to relate it to and it gave me an opening to explain that I'm really sorry I'm not always able to do all of the fun stuff I would love to do with them. I really hate that I'm not always capable of going places or being in the heat or things like that. But as they can clearly see, even stupid things like face masks try to attack my body.
So even though I miss my mom so much it feels as though my heart is being ripped from my chest, I'm given these beautiful opportunities to see that my mom left me so many lessons. She taught me so much, gave me so much of herself. That maybe, just maybe, I'm not doing the worst job at being a parent to these girls. Maybe I'm doing ok at this. Maybe my good moments outweigh my bad and they will see that at least I'm trying. At least I'm being real, and honest and open and I'm doing my best. And if nothing else, I do love them.
In the middle of the day yesterday, after I finished up some household chores I felt capable of doing, I sat down to rest and I looked over and saw the bag of crochet work I had taken from Mom and Dad's house. It was a project my mom had swiped from my aunt to finish for her. And I took to finish when my mom no longer could. And the tears started. Because this was the kind of day, the time of day when I would instinctively reach out just to say hi. Just to check in. So I cried a little. And I found something else to do.
I had a discussion with one of my daughters about expectations vs reality and at the point where I would normally call my mom for reinforcements, I called my sister. And when I figured she would not be speaking to me for the rest of the day, my two youngest shocked me and decided I needed "pampering." So we made corn muffins with syrup as a main part of dinner (one of their favorites), they braided my hair, they gave me a face mask and a facial, and they painted my nails. We ate some chocolate. They also did the dishes and vacuumed the gobs of cat hair off of the floor for me.
I don't know if I've shared all of this or not, but I was actually diagnosed with Hypermobility Syndrome, Chronic Pain and IBS in 2016. I don't actually see anyone for pain management at this point and I'm still waiting on a call from the referral. So I manage it with things like heating pads, ice packs, a TENS unit, braces, splints, Tylenol, Biofreeze, lidocaine patches, Salonpas patches, etc. I don't take pain killers. I mostly do my best to ignore it. And the more I can stay active, the better I feel. But when I get a flare up of one part of my body, like this disc thing? EVERY SINGLE OTHER THING FLARES TOO. So when my sweet girls put the face mask on me? As I washed it off, my face was the most brilliant shade of neon red you've ever seen. Did I mention I'm allergic to, well, everything? I take two antihistamines twice a day, every day. If I didn't, that reaction would have been hideous. So when they could see, with their own two eyes how it affected me, on the outside of my body, it gave me a chance to explain how the inside of my body is affected by all of these other things. We actually had a really good talk about it. And I thanked them for being so kind and helpful.
We had to have a similar talk a few years ago about my IBS. I finally relayed it to them in the best way I could think of to explain it to kids. I told them to picture an octopus. And that octopus was holding a different sharp implement in each tentacle. So one was a cleaver, and another a machete, another a dagger, etc and that octopus was attacking my abdomen with all 8 tentacles with those weapons all at one time, some slashing, some stabbing. And I had to run to the bathroom. Right. Now. So when I said I had to go and I was in pain, picture that. So they laughed, and actually drew pictures of what they thought my "stabby, stabby octopus" looked like, but they finally understood what I meant. Now all I have to say, no matter where we are, is that I'm having a stabby, stabby octopus attack and they will help me find the nearest bathroom.
Now they've seen me have a visible, although pretty minor, allergic reaction to something as mundane as a face mask. It gave them some visible thing to relate it to and it gave me an opening to explain that I'm really sorry I'm not always able to do all of the fun stuff I would love to do with them. I really hate that I'm not always capable of going places or being in the heat or things like that. But as they can clearly see, even stupid things like face masks try to attack my body.
So even though I miss my mom so much it feels as though my heart is being ripped from my chest, I'm given these beautiful opportunities to see that my mom left me so many lessons. She taught me so much, gave me so much of herself. That maybe, just maybe, I'm not doing the worst job at being a parent to these girls. Maybe I'm doing ok at this. Maybe my good moments outweigh my bad and they will see that at least I'm trying. At least I'm being real, and honest and open and I'm doing my best. And if nothing else, I do love them.
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