The Trap

This week has sucked. James has been sick all week with this nagging cough. You name it, I’ve tried it, & we’ve been to the doctor: Benadryl, purple cough syrup, Zarbee’s, cool mist humidifier, propped up pillows, Vick’s on the feet with socks, Vick’s on the back, Vick’s on the chest, rest, no sugar, no gluten, & on & on & on. Nothing works. Nothing. It infuriates me, but I have to learn to accept… not repel. Repelling does not work.

I’ve done it all with little success. I’ve kept him home from school because how can anyone learn with someone constantly coughing until they almost barf? I’m not gonna be that mom that sends their kid to school to get everyone else sick. Nope. & even though doctor said yes, I just can’t bring myself to do it. Nope.

& since I’ve had a sick kid at home, it feels like a prison sentence. I can’t go anywhere. I can’t get out & about. It’s too hot for walks, scooters, or parks. & so I stay home with a sick grouchy kid that I do any & everything for. This parenting gig is 24/7, in sickness & in health. There are no off days, no ‘mental health’ days. Nope. I have begun to feel like a live in butler, running to & from various rooms of the house to retrieve: water, snacks, meds, blankets, loveys, Kleenex, boogie wipes, boogie spray, allergy spray, probiotics, gummy vitamins, & more. Most of the time, I do this without any recognition.

I finally get him to sleep, propped up, humidifier on, Vick’s & socks on feet, medicine taken, & I finally get bundled & cozy in my own bed. I lay on my side of the bed missing my other half. I miss his toes touching mine. Then, all of a sudden, James comes running into my bed, only to steal my pillow & cough in my face. & so I scoot him over to the other side of the bed, after retrieving his water bottle. I prop him up to prevent postnatal drip, as he’s fallen down again, only to have him cough in my face, again. So, I scoop him & rock him & rock him some more & he’s finally not coughing because he’s upright & then I lay him down, ever so gently, in his cozy bed. I double check: water bottle, pillows propped, sound machine on gentle waves, night light, bundled in blankets, & I creep out. I hop back in bed & find comfort in Black Jack’s purring & him keeping me company while my hubby is in brokerage class until 10 p.m.

I pull the pink sheet up to my chin, followed by my soft lavender blanket & turn my coughed-on pillow to the cold & non- germy side. I take a deep breath & pray to God for sleep. I sigh & close my tired eyes to finally go to sleep. Then, I realize James is still coughing & I forgot to shut his door.

I take off the covers & wearily shut his door only to realize he’s rolled out of his bed. So, I scoop down & realize my back is sore & tired from too much mommying. I put him back in bed, cover him up, & sneak back into the comfort of my bed. Again I marvel at my soft purring kitty cat that is keeping me warm. I miss my husband for whom won’t be home until way after I’ve fallen asleep.

I’m almost asleep & then I hear shuffling feet & feel little feet & arms crawling across the king sized bed to my pillow & my space, once again, & I accept it because I’m beyond tired & exhausted. & the coughing cycle repeats itself all over again.

It’s a trap.

I’m stuck. You see… I planned all these play dates this week for socialization. I desperately need to be seen, heard, & hugged. I’m struggling to fulfill my purpose or to know what my purpose truly is these days. I want out of this sick shit with my kid. All play dates have to be canceled, which means no socialization, which means loneliness, which means sadness. I reach out, lately, & talk to anyone that will listen because it’s hard when my husband works all day & then goes to class until 10 at night, for 6 wks in a row, M-Th.

I miss my husband. He’s better with the kids than me. He’s more patient & less grouchy. I miss his jokes, his goofy faces, his light-heartedness, his wisdom, his love, & his arms wrapped around my tired bones. I miss touching his toes at night. I miss my husband.

When I became a stay at home mom, I automatically signed up for it all- the good, the bad, the pretty, the ugly. It’s a thankless job of packing & unpacking lunches, driving to & from school, the endless cleaning cycle, setting & unsetting the table, loading & unloading the dishwasher, putting to bed & waking up, trips to the doctor & back, long conversations about random things you never ever really thought about, battles with homework, and the list goes & on.

What I wasn’t prepared for was how lonely I would feel: the longing to be around another human being over the age of 4, the search for connection, conversations about life, the need for empathy from fellow moms in person, & hearing the me too’s. It’s way harder than I expected it to be & I’ve got to find more joy in it all. I have to because I’m just sad lately. I’ve sorta lost my way.

I love being a mom, but not this week. This week I realized I truly don’t know what the hell I’m doing. This super educated former teacher needs a lot of schooling in the mommying department. I need help… a lot of help from my friends. I’m calling a child psychologist to assist us, to help us deal with Hope wanting to control everything, with James’ occasional rages of anger, with Hope struggling to ask for help with anything, with Hope slapping me across the face this weekend (post time out, which I’m STILL NOT OVER). I want to know how to best mommy our kids because this is beyond me. I no longer have tools in my tool belt to deal with all that is being tossed my way, even at my very best. I’ve tried it all.

There are so many layers to this parenting gig, so many unknowns, so many little things here & there that I never even thought about. I worry all the time. I stress out all the time. Luckily, our kids are young & we can get better equipped now to prepare for the future! It’s as if I have nothing left to give, lately. I’m burned out, tired, & have become so quiet lately. & when I get quiet… you know something is up.

Maybe just maybe a child psychologist will give us the answers to questions I have & wisdom to know how to handle situations I’m not quite prepared for: the meltdowns, the rages, the throwing, the hitting, the defiance, the attitude, the mocking, the yelling, the screaming, & the list continues.

For now, I rest. It’s all so tiring.

I count my blessings for what I do have: a beautiful family. Thankful for my beloved sitter for taking sick James out of my home so I can take a breath, rest, & remind myself that this too shall pass. Eventually, he’ll get better!

Maybe, just maybe, Hope will wave to me after school, like she did the whole first week of school, instead of acting as if I don’t exist when she sees me for the first time after school! She stopped waving. She stopped smiling. I miss that smile & the way she’d light up when she’d see me after her 8 hour day away from Mom. It’s my favorite part of every day! How is this already starting at 6? I asked her why she stopped & she said she just did.

I’m sad she stopped waving at me. It sorta breaks my heart. Maybe she’ll start again. If she could just say ‘I love you’ back after I do… that’d be terrific. A part of me breaks a little when she says nothing at all. Hoping she will say it again soon. & she’ll start liking me again.