Monday, November 4, 2013

Everything. Is. Fine.

You know when people ask, "How are you!?"  And you'd like to give them more of an update than "Oh, fine."  But you can't think of anything positive to say?

It starts out like, "How are you!?  How's Liam?"

Oh, I'm fine.  Liam cut six teeth this weekend, so he screamed throughout WalMart and had to be changed only like, a million times.  This means more money spent on diapers.  Not to mention, my husband got bent out of shape because Liam was "THAT" screaming kid in the store, so we rushed out without half the things I needed for suppers.  My husband didn't quit HIS hissy fit all night, and then accused me of not making him supper.  Only, when I offered he didn't want anything I had to offer (going back to the "I didn't finish grocery shopping" story).

(No, no, that seems harsh...)

"How are you?  How's your family?"

Well, my husband works non stop, I work non stop, but we still have no money and no savings account.  He went hunting for the first time the other weekend and got a buck, which was great, but then told me when he got home that he couldn't wait to go back because he had no pressure and no stress when he was down there but he could feel it all coming back when he was on the ride home.  It made me feel great inside.  My child doesn't sleep, so he sleeps between us because I'm at my wits end and so is my husband and every time I ask my husband what I should do he goes, "Well, how should I know?  The LAST time I was a parent..." 

(Too honest?  How about this...)

"How are you?  How are you feeling?"

The weight of the world is on my shoulders.  I feel like my marriage is collapsing, but we had to stop counseling because it's either go to counseling or go to my doctor's appointments (neurologist, PCP and endocrinologist) and pay for the shots I give myself every night.  Oh yeah, the shots, the ones that I insert into my belly, butt, thighs and arms and it feels like someone is burning me with a cigarette as it goes through my body.  But at least it's not cancer, huh?  I'm sure it will be better once I sleep.  OR have sex.  Want to know how your love life suffers when you have a one year old in your bed?  I fall asleep at my desk no less than twice a day and that's the truth.

(Seems a bit drastic...)

So you know what I say? 

I'm.  Fine.  (Which is secret code for, "please let's talk about you and not about me.")

I realize that my husband and I are going through stuff, but it's temporary.  I realize money isn't everything.  And I realize my MS is not progressing, and that's a very very good thing.  I realize these are the best years of my life- livin' on love.  But I struggle to motor through this time because it's HARD and it's PAINFUL and I want OUT; and I struggle to take my son's infanthood slooowly, because I don't get a second chance at this.  It's a paradox, and I'm caught in the middle.

Nobody tells you that being a mommy is easy, it's being all the other labels on top that makes it hard.  I confessed to a friend this weekend, "I love being a mommy about 88% of the time."  She said, "You know what?  Sometimes I'm only at 10%."  A wife and mother of three, who on Facebook looks like she's got it all 90% struggling.  She didn't ask me any more, just gave me the most sincere look and smiled.  I DID feel better.  I imagined her 10 years younger, no kids, no big house in the suburbs, no successful marriage...and I felt better.

I LOVE MY FAMILY.  I never want it to be said or heard that I'm done or I'm leaving or I'm giving up.  My husband is my best friend and the love of my life.  I can't wait to find new ways of making him happy every single day.  And my son is the light of my life.  Every morning I wake up and see him cuddled into his daddy and I have PEACE- the knowledge that God is good and so is my life.  Some day I want to be the seasoned mother staring in the face of the 20something saying, "You know what...sometimes, I'm only at 10%.  But I'm living proof that it's going to get better."