Tuesday, January 22, 2008


I haven't felt like writing much. Honestly it's because I haven't felt like I have been doing a very good job wearing the "Mom" hat lately. I am overwhelmed.

Let's start with the small stuff...

To start things off I cut Pipsqueak's hair. No big deal, right? Well I thought so too, until I actually did it. No worries, I didn't screw it up or give him a mullet or anything, in fact it looks pretty cute, but it devastated me. I cut off his cute little locks! Really it needed to be done, probably months ago. But I liked his long hair and his curls. And I miss them. And he looks like a little boy. Not a baby. Aha, the real root of my devastation. My baby is growing up. I am the youngest in a family of girls, and my dad always held on a little too tight. He never wanted us to grow up (I actually felt guilty when I found out Santa wasn't real, like I was disappointing my dad by not believing in him anymore...) and I swore I wouldn't do the same thing. But I am heartbroken about the thought that someday my little boy will inevitably grow up, move out, fall in love, get married... ie, not need me to be such a big part of his life. He is my entire life right now, and I am his, and knowing that that will change is really making my heart hurt this week.

Heartache number two for the week, Pip broke his leg. Truly there was nothing I could have done to prevent it (save carrying him around everyone and never, even for a second, letting him walk or crawl on his own). I know this, I keep telling myself this, yet I still feel like an awful mother. What kind of mother lets her 15-month-old break his leg?! Well I guess he must be following in my footsteps, because when I was not much older (maybe 20 months?) I broke both my femurs in a nasty encounter with the playground slide. Pipsqueak's break is not nearly as major, just a little bend in the bone right above his ankle (and his was sustained while crawling down the stairs...not nearly as fun as a playground slide). But still... Seeing that little cast and his bowlegged, hob-knobbed attempts at walking with it on is just about enough to kill me.

Add to the mix those two top front teeth that are about THIS.CLOSE to breaking through (but just won't, the stubborn things) and the fact that they are not letting him (or me) sleep longer than 30 minutes at a time all night long (let's hope that is, in fact, due to the teeth), and I am just a mess.

Now top it off with the most heartbreaking of all. Something I can't really even wrap my head around, no matter how much internet research I have done in the past 3 days. Something I don't even know how to write about, can't even say out loud. Something that is occupying my thoughts all day and all night, something that has kept me in constant prayer. My sister has been diagnosed with a chronic autoimmune disorder, something that ranges in severity from "relatively minor" (so say the websites I googled, though from what I have read I don't think there is anything minor about it at all) to fatal, often within the first five years. My sister. 31 year old mother and nurse. I can't think about this possibility. I don't know how I would live in this world without any one of my sisters. How can I?

I am literally sick over it. Sick with worry. I just keep wishing it away. Asking why. Willing it to be a misdiagnosis. Wondering how to go on living my life while this is happening. What do I do? This can't be real.


Brooke said...

I know exactly how you feel watching your little one in a cast. Mine was born with a club foot and had to be in casts for three out of his first four months of life. Then he had to be in braces 23 hours a day for another three months. After that, we were able to cut back the brace wear to just 12 hours a day when he's sleeping during the, but that will continue until he's FOUR YEARS OLD! And although you feel like a terrible mother, I happen to think you're great...just go back and read some of your previous posts and you'll be convinced too! =)

-A said...

It's hard to get past the "terrible mother" feelings that come with the title. I'm trying really hard to be convinced that I am not completely scarring my toddler by needing to pay so much attention to my infant. Multiple-millions of people have had more than one kid and had them grow up to be well adjusted individuals right?

Anywho - good luck adjusting to the little boy look . . . it's a hard thing, but is fun in it's own new way.

Also, my thoughts are with you and your sister, too. Health trials are hard to handle . . . let me know if there is anything I can do to help.

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