I was lying in bed tonight having a silent little pity party while Noah slept comfortably beside me. It’s been one of those nights when I couldn’t get comfortable. I was hot, but can’t sleep without blankets. My chest hurt, but, well, I have to breath, and then it’s starts…the coughing followed by a sigh from the man trying to get one night of sleep without my hacking waking him up….several times. Then I thought, MY BLOG!!! and quietly moved to the silence of the couch. My blog doesn’t judge me, stays up all hours and I feel it just “get’s me” so to my friend I come. My house is pretty peaceful at night, and cozy I might add. I would start a fire, but that’s just silly. As I watched “welcome” pop up on the screen it was like a big hug. As the little blue circle spun around I wondered if this would just be another post in my “drafts” folder. I have a lot of those and they make me feel behind, so I do what any normal closet writer would do. I avoid them.
The last week has been one of those weeks where I’ve had to work hard to make lemonade out of the lemons it seems to be raining. I pride myself on being an optimist and seeing the silver lining in every situation. I don’t know where I picked up this quality and I KNOW it can get annoying to all you Eeyores out there, but I chose to be Tigger…most of the time. Tonight, Eeyore tried his hardest to have an extended visit in my little Tigger world and I had to fight him off. It wasn’t easy friends, but here’s my story. Here I am putting him in a headlock, I mean embracing my other personality.
Sickness snuck up on me! It all started
about 40 years ago, about 4 weeks ago when Noah and I volunteered as Chaperones at Samuel’s first camp. I’d like to explain to you why we did that, but I’m not ready to talk about that right now. The last day of camp, I started getting the “funk” and I just blew it off as a souvenir from camp. Three weeks went by and the “souvenir” is looking like a bad investment. Now there is a lot of back story here including 9 stiches and other crazy news, but we’ll get to that another day. Okay, it didn’t sneak up on me, I just don’t love people in long white coats. But camp was AWESOME and people were sick of me coughing on them.
So, week four of the “funk” starts actually slowing me down in my pretty fast paced life of daytime soaps and bon bons on the couch, (that made me laugh and cough) and I decide I must go to “The machine”. You know the place where they prescribe drugs that may or may not work because they may or may not have guessed correctly what is wrong with you. I HAVE to be almost dying to go to the white coats anymore, just need to point that out. To many allergies going on this body to risk taking anything, and I always feel like they’re looking at me wondering if I have spaghetti for brains. Some might say I spend a little to much time on medical websites.
I knew it was bad, I just didn’t know how bad. It’s pneumonia…yupp fun stuff. The white coat actually was really good and thorough and I was impressed. I left with the least amount of drugs despite her predications and got worse over the weekend and had to go back to get what she recommended in the first place. Darn it. White coats – 1 / me – 0.
During this last week before I walked into the light, I happened to have 3 play date scheduled and I had to cancel all of them. It’s very rare I schedule time for myself with tall people and I actually wanted to spend time with these ladies, but I was crashing. I was sad. Did I mention Isaiah had 2 kinds of rashes going on also…then a stomach virus. Oh yeah folks, it’s nothing but fun times here. Tigger was slowly losing the spring in her tail. But I kept it happy & positive because that’s become more important around here, except for when I didn’t. Which only made Eeyore breed like gremlins. Why have you read this far? You must really love me.
Then the weekend came. Doc said to rest and to be honest, I was ready. I had planned two days packed with family fun stuff pre-crashing. Noah agreed to maintain my crazy list of fun and somehow it made me a little more irritated than usual that the boys chose to pick at each other all day with Daddy, rather than sit back reflecting on what awesome parents they have. I hate when he walks in the door like he just finished a marathon after a few hours out with them. My heart starts beating fast and OUCH, did I mention breathing hurts and I want to yell, “what is wrong with you two!” but have no voice. Have you ever had one those nightmares? I of course got on my mommyhorse and just knew that would have NEVER happened if I was there. (This happens most days in my house so that reasoning I blame on the foggy head caused by drugs and lack of sleep.) After two days of a head to foggy to even read, I was ready to be well again, but I wasn’t even close. I headed back to the doc today and just as suspected I got worse over the weekend. I gave in to the new drugs and guess what…steroids give me ENNNEEERRRGGYYY in my brain….WEEEEEEEEEE.. and hence the time for this pity party post at midnight. At least I think it’s the steroids. Who knows at this point. How can we have this many channels and NOTHING on television?
So really? Why am I sad? I could deal with missing the entire weekend of events with really cool tall people I like, but having to cancel my trip to Dallas where I had Gran-Gran to watch the boys while I flew away to Tucson to visit Beads of Courage this week (followed by another week playing in Dallas) is making me want to crawl into an Eeyore costume and cry. Have you ANY idea how much planning it takes to pull this off? I was SOOO looking forward to this time away learning all there is to know about this organization. I had planned the perfect, meaningful Mommy trip with my bestie and I CAN’T GO!! Go ahead, shed a tear for me, you know you want to. You can send flowers too…
I laid in bed for no less than hour tonight recounting how unfair this was to God. I just KNEW He would perform His miraculous healing on me because…OK I have no good reason for why, I just wanted it to happen. But instead, like most times I try to have a perfectly sensible pity party, I was handed all the tools for a nice, refreshing, tall glass of lemonade. It only took one second to realize WHY I want to go to Beads of Courage so badly making my pity party much less productive. Darn Tigger.
These beads belong to our sponsor child this year, Grayson.
Can you believe each one of these beads tells a story of all that sweet Grayson and his family have endured in his short, little life? If you stop to think about, it’s pretty amazing. Go ahead..take a minute and just take it all in. Each color represents a different procedure, poke, hospital visit and more. That’s a lot of beads friends.
Somehow sitting in the comfort of my home, with my family, knowing I’m going to get better and reschedule my trip, does not seem so bad. I had to blow out the candles on my Paleo pity cake and focus on the big picture. Speaking of the Paleo thing, my four year old brought to my attention, “You eat so healthy mommy you shouldn’t get sick”. Thank you for joining my pity party son, I love you! You get have some cake.
I encourage you to come to our Beads of Courage Event this year. I promise you won’t be disappointed! We’ll even have cupcakes.
So in summary…is there a proper way to finish a post like this?
Did I mention I almost completed this semesters lesson plans I’ve been avoiding? (yes Donnal! I did it!) Take THAT Eeyore! Booyah! 5 more days of steroids…midnight scrapbooking anyone? Yeah, I really can’t get off the couch for long. I am NOT good at doing nothing…NOT. AT. ALL!!! I’m a fidgety, grumpy mess. I actually get excited that the boys want to play a 10th round of Monopoly. The END.
Sidenote: Christy…this is not about homeschool and there are no pictures of my half naked kids! Yeah me!