IN OTHER WORDS | Stop Needing Me

Sometimes, I have nothing left. So much nothing that I’m writing this on my phone. Get out of bed? Turn off The Today Show? Deal with the insane “proxy server is not responding” message that has plagued my laptop for a week, the message that maybe responds to multiple reboots and cursing? No.

Plus, now, my son, home sick again with a stomach ache, is on my computer. I couldn’t even talk to him this morning I was so frustrated. My husband and I, already weary from sick days just a month into the school year, both felt he was just exhausted beyond. Beyond the point of anything, and I believe his stomach felt sick. He’s been having horrible insomnia. I’m also a mom and a crying child who looks terrible, who is struggling and had a virus that is lingering in the school hallways; I’m going to keep home.

I brought in the big guns. I normally handle all sick day issues. This morning, I sent in my husband.

“He’s completely exhausted. I’m at a loss. You go.”

My husband is tougher than I am, but can also stay calmer, be more logical. He’s my anchor. My objectivity was gone along with my reserves, and my ability to be neutral and not angry.

“Short of shoving him into his clothes while he cries and screams, which I won’t do, he’s not budging. But I told him no TV or movies.”

“OK,” I said. “I can work with that. “Thanks, honey.”

Sick day update: This post is taking forever. He is complaining of having nothing to do, has already read two chapter books and rested in bed, lights out.

“Daddy says I can’t watch a show and I have to stay in bed all day.”

“Well, he’s right, no shows today. But you can read.”

“I don’t want to read anymore.”

“You can do your Night Writes project. Use my computer.”

Writing. Always good practice for a dyslexic kid, and fun for him to play with fonts and inserting clip art. Still looking pale and tired but at least he’s not getting more behind in school and/or worse. I could take him to school now, but he’d be there two hours. OK. Let it go. Not everything is a huge deal. In fact, most things aren’t.

As an aside, blogging on my low-end Samsung smart phone is exponentially more difficult than on my computer. And bloody WordPress keeps defaulting to “bold” type face. Seriously?!

What was the title again? Right. Stop bolding!

The thing is, I love being a mom. Taking care of them is good. But, so is teaching them self care. Today, insomnia won. So did my mobile WordPress app.

Other days, it’s something else.

“Mom, where’s my . . . ?

Sweetie, try looking for five more minutes. Look under things.” That usually does it.

“Mom! I found it!”
“Good for you.”

Speaking of self-care, there’s a margarita with my name on it tonight. Good for me.

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