"Headed somewhere?" I asked.
"Yes. Somewhere where there are NO LITTLE SISTERS!" she says emphatically.
"Yeah. I know. It's been one of those days, hasn't it? Think maybe I could go with you?"
And oh, it had been a humdinger. Harper hadn't slept well the night before, so she and I both were exhausted. She refused to wake up for school, which prompted one of my legendary Monday-morning meltdowns. And Ellie. Well, Ellie has been caught up in the terrible twos for about 18 months now. I hope she turns over a new leaf when she turns 3 next month and becomes a compliant, rational child. Here's to hoping.
 |
| They only look sweet and innocent. |
Even so, since I get to enjoy my kids each and every day from sunup til sundown , all that time together can get a bit ... overwhelming. Frustrating. Maddening.
In Tennessee, we lived 15 minutes away from my parents. My mother retired a few months after Harper was born, and she cared for her while I continued to work. Then, after I started my new career as what basically amounts to an unpaid maid/nurse/teacher/referee, she was still close by to rescue me when I needed it. It was often. She cared for Ellie when Harper had a full-day's slate of doctor's appointments in Knoxville or when I simply wanted to go to the grocery store without feeling like I'd fought - and lost - a battle.
(While we're on the topic, why doesn't some enterprising entrepreneur open a store that sells three things through a drive-through window: milk, bread and one-pound packages of ground beef. Mothers would line up around the block and patiently wait their turn if it ment they didn't have to drag their kids into a grocery store just so they can throw together some Hamburger Helper for dinner. Seriously. I think there's real money to be made here.)
Anyway, I knew. I was very, very lucky to have such a stellar support system. I knew many moms - and dads - who didn't have family nearby to help on a daily basis. But now that I'm 1,000 miles away from my parents, geez. Trust me. I understand exactly how lucky I was.
There's simply no way I would have made it through my girls' infancies without my mom. Especially with the first baby. I didn't know jack squat about babies, let alone one with special needs. And my mom certainly bailed me out more times than I'll ever be able to remember.
- Like the time I showed up at her house late one night, baby Harper in tow, and declared "I can't make this baby sleep. Do something."
- Or the time when 6-month-old Harper was so sick and lethargic and I had no idea what was wrong. Mom calmed me down to the extent she could and went with me to the doctor where we discovered she had her first of what has become many urinary tract infections.
- Or the times Nick or I couldn't get away from work and mom took Harper to a doctors' appointment.
- Or each time when mom could tell I'd had enough and would just show up at my house to play with the girls so I wouldn't pull my hair out by the handful.
- Or all the times I said, "Nick and I want to go see this movie/game/concert. Can you watch the girls for a couple of hours?"
- Or all the other times when my mom was there to help with something little or something bigger like a surgery or a new continence procedure or wound care or whatever we were managing.
And even though she's half a continent away now, mom is still helping me. She and dad are flying out next week to stay with Ellie while Nick and I take Harper to Kansas City for her first visit to spina bifida clinic. So yeah. I basically think my mom is a saint.
But living this far apart certainly puts into stark contrast how challenging it can be to raise kids without a your own "village" for support. I certainly tip my hat to all the moms who have been doing it solo far longer than me.
 |
| Mom with the girls. (Somehow I don't have a picture of the three of them together.) |
No comments:
Post a Comment