When it comes to my children, I have always been a chronic worrier. In fact, I was the mom that never let my kids do anything because I was afraid they would get hurt. In the last year, however, I had trained myself to worry less about them. The problem is, the minute I stopped worrying, they started breaking bones. My toddler broke his arm back in March and I was visiting the orthopedic doctor every week until his arm healed. Then, last Thursday, I got a call from the daycare telling me my ten year old had injured his ankle. I took him to the ER right away and I was told he only had a sprain. Last night, however, I had a message on my voicemail to call the ER immediately because apparently, he has a chip fracture in his ankle.
That is when the guilt set in. I had put off making the orthopedist appointment because things were hectic from Friday morning on and I thought it was “just a sprain,” but I should have known better. Here I was staring at kid whose ankle pain had gotten worse by Monday evening. My life constantly involves running into multiple directions and sometimes, those directions collide. Yesterday evening was an example of how my worlds collide. It is like I was sent crashing into a wall with no protective gear on.
So, this morning I was up at 5 am to get my sister to the airport and then, after that, my morning was more than I could handle. Considering, I feel asleep after midnight, 5 am and I could not be friends this morning. My ten year old woke up crying that he was in pain from his ankle and he did not want to go to daycare. Whether I liked it or not, I had to go into work today and the orthopedist could not see him until tomorrow morning. How the heck did I go from being the mother who worries all the time to the mother who has the orthopedist doctor on speed dial and everybody knows her name at the ER?
My ten year old cried all the way to daycare. He even told he wished that I was like other mothers and was a stay-at-home mom. I stopped at Subway and picked up some breakfast for my ten year old in an effort to bribe him to calm down and as expected, I was late for work. The look he gave me as I left the daycare made me feel like I had a stamp on my head that said “HORRIBLE PARENT,” and all in caps. I handed my toddler off to his teacher and didn’t even say goodbye. Moreover, I have to leave the office at two and there are piles of papers staring me in face telling me to get them done, and all I want is to find a hole to crawl in.
The thing about being a working mother is that everyone wants a piece of your time. Your employers, your spouse, your children, your own mother, etc., and it is not easy to please everyone. Add chronic illness to the mix and as a working mother, you feel like a bubbling idiot. With the whole world wanting my time and my being sick 50% of the time, I feel like my kids do not seem to get enough of my time. This morning it seems like every joint in my body aches and lately, my hands have not been really cooperative. Not only do I keep dealing with aches and pain in them sporadically throughout the day, but they are stiff and they – probably not the best word choice here – they just do not want to work.
Calgon take me away. Far, Far Away! Did you people really think I was confident and together? I guess now you know better.