it’s the most wonderful time of the year!

it’s magical.

the lights. the music. the wonder.

…some say, anyway.

i’ve never done exceptionally well this time of year, for many reasons.

one: i am a fantastic procrastinator, so there goes having anything actually completed so i may enjoy the time.

two, i want to do it all and make everyone happy, but, see above ^^^

thus, i spin and spin not making any sense of progress.

plus when your family lives in all sorts of places, the dinner table gets smaller, not larger.

though being surrounded by many people isn’t the cure for loneliness, either…

don’t let me fool you, if you see me on facebook, or at wegman’s chatting over the bananas, i might seem fine and dandy. but it’s easy to play that role.

honestly, i’ve always been pretty happy, that being not happy is just weird to me.

i’ve been writing for over a year now, and i thought that by doing so, it would help me with the isolation a caregiver feels. all that a mother feels.

but it hasn’t.

i thought by writing, i would have a better handle on my emotions.

these days, i am so angry with the day to day necessities of this stupid disease, i find myself loathing the very things that make her well.

for instance, between dropping little c off at school and senior c at work, it would have been great to grab a coffee and stop somewhere to let M play around.

but, instead, i needed to circle the airport, i mean the hospital’s overflowing parking garage to fight a losing battle for one measly space.

instead, i parked farther away, and then started the 10 minute (yes) debate in my brain on which would be best for M:
do we walk bundled up, outside in the cold air or in the warm but germ-y hospital.

i chose the former.

this was all for a trip to the hospital pharmacy since wegman’s doesn’t carry the latest prescription ordered by her team.

they added another medicine to our regimen. another 15 precious minutes.

i am angry at that!!
any time we have as a family, any time i have as a momma, most is spent doing something to take care of this disease.

i am angry at that.

as someone close to me has said a couple of times, “it’s just a way of life for you now.”

yes, indeed, so very true. but i’m not able to grasp onto that statement, yet, and say, “yes, let’s move on. okay! boot straps up, heave ho. emotions: off! quit yer b*tchin’, bek!”

nope. not there…
i am quite the contrary.

i am angry that my 20 month old baby girl knows to say “enzymes!” before she wants to eat.

i am angry that she knows how to swallow them.
amazed at the same time.
but angry she has been put into this situation at all and will be for the rest of her life.

i am angry our cf clinic knows us by our voices when we call.

i am angry little M still fights me something fierce doing her vest and nebs daily.

i am angry that once she starts a cold the incessant fears and worries creep sink deep into my heart and brain.

i am angry that her little dry cough she has had the last week has made her throw up more times than it should, due to her gagging on the extra mucous that’s in her little body.

i am angry that i need to be mindful we are not excluding little C from anything, as M’s ‘way of life’ progresses.

i am angry that even though shes doing really well, if i say i am angry to others, sometimes i am met with responses of “look on the bright side” or “there are kids much worse!”

i am angry this has made me so selfish.

but isn’t any mother when it comes to her child’s health?

i don’t want this for her. any of it.


 

but, i will smooth my blouse, put on my lip gloss and fluff my curly hair.
i will go through the motions required for this time of year, because i have children.
and they need me.
happy.
and hopefully i will actually feel the magic.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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