Sometimes I want to be that mom. Not the mom that wakes up and first thing disconnects a tube from her son's belly that just administered medication.
Sometimes I'm tired of it. I'm tired of sitting and pumping food and medications into my son while we watch Monsters Inc. for the 85th time so that he'll be still and less likely to throw up that food and medication (all over the couch, himself, the dog and/or me).
I want to be that mom. The mom that stresses over the fact there was a half eaten plate of scrambled eggs instead of a clean one. The mom that sighs heavily over cleaning up said scrambled eggs off the floor. I want to be the mom that doesn't have to clear seven syringes off the table every morning but maybe a sippy cup instead.
I would be that mom in a heartbeat. That's not funny. Heart beat.... Not fucking funny.
There was a boy today at day camp that was just losing his shit. His Dad had dropped him off and he was NOT happy about it. Huge tears rolling down red cheeks. Sniffling. Hiccuping with the sad desperation of separation.
I could see the gut wrenching his father was feeling as he walked away knowing that it was what needed to happen.
I would be that parent in a heart beat (fucking heartbeats).
Instead I get a quick kiss without eye contact because the Barn is up and you can actually climb inside of it (once you've kissed Mommy goodbye.)
I'm not proud of my son who is so well adjusted and secure. Today I would trade that in for another Simon that hasn't gotten used to dozens of doctors, nurses, therapists, friends and family that have come to take care of him, wish him well, make him do exercises, take his blood, work on speech, listen to his heart, distract him.
I would like to be that mom. The mom that stresses over leaving her crying son but then finds out at pick up that he mellowed and played well for the rest of the day. Shit, I'd even rather be that mom that gets the call an hour later that he's not stopped crying and could I come and get him.
Instead I'm the mom that walks into the room, drops his feeding pump bag off in the fridge and checks his diaper stash in his cubby because potty training is so far off for this three year old due to diuretics and stool softeners and language delays.
Today I want to be that mom. The one who's kid will only eat white foods. The one whose kid is growing out of their shoes so fast that they can actually hear the cash register at Foot Locker ringing in their head.
The mom whose kid throws fits in the super market because they can't have that box of Kix because we have a whole box of Trader Joe's Gorilla Munch in the house already.
I want to be that mom, whose kid is so shy that they will only do the Koala bear cling to my legs when we run into an old friend on the street.
I want to be that mom that has to work at keeping up with their kid, shouting a loud "Simon, STOP!" as they head off toward the edge of the sidewalk.
I want to be that mom. Today I really want to be that mom.
I want to be the mom that got to work off her baby weight and was so frustrated that those last 5 pounds just wouldn't come off. I would take that in a fucking heart beat instead of being the new mom sitting in the hospital chair for 15 hours a day holding her months old baby and wondering how she could reach the Peanut M&M's that were in her bag on the floor so that she didn't starve but didn't wake her son who's resting heart rate just dropped below 100 for the first time in weeks .
I want to be that mom that had to pump her breast milk at work while staring at a picture of her kid for 'let down'.
I want to be that mom that didn't stop offering the boob until her kid finally had to say "I'm done Mother, now can you please let me finish my algebra homework."
Three years ago today I stopped getting to even think about not being that mom. Three years ago today I woke up knowing that I was never going to get to be that mom because yesterday, in the late afternoon, after a 'funny' start to the day, my son was diagnosed with a chronic and possibly fatal heart condition.
This was the first day of me being this mom.
The one that savors each day.
Each breath.
Lives and laughs with greater appreciation for living and laughing.
Is so thankful for the outstanding little man that makes it so much easier than it could be.
Feels the presence of the divine so much more.
And understands the power of family, friends, and community on a cellular level.
And more evolved shit like that.
Today...I kinda just want to say Fuck Her. Fuck that 'unlearning' the grass is always greener shit. It is. Sometime the grass really is greener and doesn't need as much mowing or weeding or all natural for your child/pet fertilizer.
Today I would be that mom. I would.
In
a
fucking
heart beat.
And oh yeah, it was amazing to celebrate yesterday and how far we've come. Blah Blah Blah. Fuckity fuck fucking evolved shit gratitude and all that.
Sometimes I'm tired of it. I'm tired of sitting and pumping food and medications into my son while we watch Monsters Inc. for the 85th time so that he'll be still and less likely to throw up that food and medication (all over the couch, himself, the dog and/or me).
I want to be that mom. The mom that stresses over the fact there was a half eaten plate of scrambled eggs instead of a clean one. The mom that sighs heavily over cleaning up said scrambled eggs off the floor. I want to be the mom that doesn't have to clear seven syringes off the table every morning but maybe a sippy cup instead.
I would be that mom in a heartbeat. That's not funny. Heart beat.... Not fucking funny.
There was a boy today at day camp that was just losing his shit. His Dad had dropped him off and he was NOT happy about it. Huge tears rolling down red cheeks. Sniffling. Hiccuping with the sad desperation of separation.
I could see the gut wrenching his father was feeling as he walked away knowing that it was what needed to happen.
I would be that parent in a heart beat (fucking heartbeats).
Instead I get a quick kiss without eye contact because the Barn is up and you can actually climb inside of it (once you've kissed Mommy goodbye.)
I'm not proud of my son who is so well adjusted and secure. Today I would trade that in for another Simon that hasn't gotten used to dozens of doctors, nurses, therapists, friends and family that have come to take care of him, wish him well, make him do exercises, take his blood, work on speech, listen to his heart, distract him.
I would like to be that mom. The mom that stresses over leaving her crying son but then finds out at pick up that he mellowed and played well for the rest of the day. Shit, I'd even rather be that mom that gets the call an hour later that he's not stopped crying and could I come and get him.
Instead I'm the mom that walks into the room, drops his feeding pump bag off in the fridge and checks his diaper stash in his cubby because potty training is so far off for this three year old due to diuretics and stool softeners and language delays.
Today I want to be that mom. The one who's kid will only eat white foods. The one whose kid is growing out of their shoes so fast that they can actually hear the cash register at Foot Locker ringing in their head.
The mom whose kid throws fits in the super market because they can't have that box of Kix because we have a whole box of Trader Joe's Gorilla Munch in the house already.
I want to be that mom, whose kid is so shy that they will only do the Koala bear cling to my legs when we run into an old friend on the street.
I want to be that mom that has to work at keeping up with their kid, shouting a loud "Simon, STOP!" as they head off toward the edge of the sidewalk.
I want to be that mom. Today I really want to be that mom.
I want to be the mom that got to work off her baby weight and was so frustrated that those last 5 pounds just wouldn't come off. I would take that in a fucking heart beat instead of being the new mom sitting in the hospital chair for 15 hours a day holding her months old baby and wondering how she could reach the Peanut M&M's that were in her bag on the floor so that she didn't starve but didn't wake her son who's resting heart rate just dropped below 100 for the first time in weeks .
I want to be that mom that had to pump her breast milk at work while staring at a picture of her kid for 'let down'.
I want to be that mom that didn't stop offering the boob until her kid finally had to say "I'm done Mother, now can you please let me finish my algebra homework."
Three years ago today I stopped getting to even think about not being that mom. Three years ago today I woke up knowing that I was never going to get to be that mom because yesterday, in the late afternoon, after a 'funny' start to the day, my son was diagnosed with a chronic and possibly fatal heart condition.
This was the first day of me being this mom.
The one that savors each day.
Each breath.
Lives and laughs with greater appreciation for living and laughing.
Is so thankful for the outstanding little man that makes it so much easier than it could be.
Feels the presence of the divine so much more.
And understands the power of family, friends, and community on a cellular level.
And more evolved shit like that.
Today...I kinda just want to say Fuck Her. Fuck that 'unlearning' the grass is always greener shit. It is. Sometime the grass really is greener and doesn't need as much mowing or weeding or all natural for your child/pet fertilizer.
Today I would be that mom. I would.
In
a
fucking
heart beat.
And oh yeah, it was amazing to celebrate yesterday and how far we've come. Blah Blah Blah. Fuckity fuck fucking evolved shit gratitude and all that.
11 comments:
holy fucking shit does that put my daily bullshit complaints in perspective! laura, you have an amazing way with words.
I fucking love you :)
I totally agree with Bess.
I particularly love the very very last line, written in a tiny font, in case any of you all missed it. Oh I love you dearly Fitch.
I told my family that I was going to teach Charlotte to swear when she was old enough because it ALWAYS makes me feel better and she is going to need it;) Your blog hit home for me today. I have a CM child and have allowed it to rule the last 2 years of my life, and yet I am also "that Mom". I need to focus on how blessed I've been and STOP feeling so fucking sorry for myself. Thank you for reminding me.
That was amazing. You are an incredible writer. Holy shit, I'm going to take a few minutes to feel good about my healthy kids and not whine like a bitch. Thanks for the perspective and eloquent prose and being awesome.
xo, Lydia
I understand wanting to be that mom, badly. Still, I would not ever want to assume I truly understand how challenging your motherhood experience is. I want to send you many hugs, much love and endless blissful moments with Simon!
Love from the Netherlands, Kat
I so, so wish you could be that mom, too.
Hey gals,
I found your blog through the CCA list serve. I get it. My son Sam was born 18 years ago with a rare genetic disorder, which at the time did not include a heart condition. It did include multiple anomalies, and by the time he was 16 he had undergone 30 surgical procedures, to that point we were pretty much dealing with a life-long disability. Then in 2009 his shunt failed, and while in for a 'routine' revision, he was diagnosed with dilated cardiomyopathy. It is believed that a stinking virus went to his heart and cursed him with this life threatening disease. At this point I am happy to say he is 'stable' on meds, but I am always waiting for the other shoe to drop. I will not say that I have not shared your feelings, I have. But I can say that I remind myself on a regular basis, that on any given day, there is a family who's life is harder than mine. Sam is our gift, and like all kids makes me crazy! Hang in there, and find a little piece of happy in each day.
Deborah
You are amazing and so is Simon. Thanks to him, you and your partner are being strengthened and molded in ways you could never be without him. And while you want to be THAT mom...you are THAT mom, who looks at the rest of us and says "shut up. you have nothing to complain about." And "I" am that mom that says "You are right."
Saying prayers for your family...
I wish you could be that mom and Shimmy's mom all at once. Thank you for sharing this.
Post a Comment