As life would have it, my husband was out of town for work the first week of school. Naturally, I thought, I’ve got this. Day one went swimmingly. I woke up extra early. I got the kiddo to school with plenty of time to spare. Nobody forgot anything. Nobody cried. Nobody was late. Everything was grand.
76, 75, 74, 73... Did I respond to that email? 73, 72, 71, 70... Notes my husband changes the reel he’s watching. 70, 70, 70, 70... How can he possibly watch his phone while lying in bed? I have been told that looking at a phone while lying in bed can interfere with sleep, so obviously I am doing the responsible thing by forcing my eyes close.
For about two weeks, doing anything productive felt like trying to push a Walmart shopping cart with two messed up wheels. Every deadline looked optional. Every task sounded like Future Liz's problem but she's surprisingly stubborn. She usually shows up at the last possible second, yelling, "Absolutely not," while Present Liz is still explaining that she doesn't have the energy.
When I was little, anyone who knew me, especially my aunt, could tell you I collected rocks. Not fancy rocks or gemstones. Just dirty rocks. My pockets were always full of them and overalls were the key. Every family vacation ended with me bringing home what I considered a priceless souvenir and everyone else considered extra luggage.
Remember how I said two things can be true at the same time? Well, for someone who is fiercely independent, enjoys being alone more often than not and insists on doing everything herself, I have discovered that I am also a Velcro person.
I'm just over here trying to live a happy life. I have absolutely no idea what's working and what's not. I have bad days. I have a small group of people who hear me complain more than I'd like to admit. But most days, I'm simply trying to get to the next thing on my to-do list without creating three new problems along the way.
It's never-ending. "Can we go fishing?" It doesn't matter if the wind is blowing the trees sideways. "Can we go fishing?" It doesn't matter if there's a thunderstorm rolling in. Notice he never asks if we can clean the house.
My kiddo had a doctor’s appointment last week, and I had the biggest epiphany. We are often asked how things are going. Family, friends, doctors, and the people who check in on us with so much kindness. Almost every time, I assume they mean his health. That feels like the obvious answer.
I have no idea what I'm doing as a parent. I know my kid knows I love him. I know he knows right from wrong. I know he knows kindness comes first. Beyond that, I am making things up as I go. With summer here, my kid wakes up checking the weather forecast and wind prediction. Apparently, fishing has changed since I was a kid. I remember pressing a button, aiming toward the water, and hoping for the best.
There were so many ah-ha moments during the three hours I spent mowing while putting on a free concert for the birds. But first, earlier this week during therapy we went over all my "what ifs". Every time I brought one up, my therapist responded with, "even if." What if I oversleep? Turns into, even if I oversleep, my son will still get his meds, just a little later. Simple. Annoyingly simple, actually.
I swore after my best friend got married years ago that I was done being a bridesmaid. If I was ever asked again, I would kindly decline and offer my assistance from behind the scenes. Then my bonus sister had to go and get married... You can imagine my enthusiasm at getting out of my sweatpants and into a dress.
It ‘twas the night of the ‘Liz U-line magazine review’, which is a very official event that happens in my house where I spend more time than I should flipping through pages of things I will never, under any circumstance, need. Admiring boxes in sizes I can’t justify, check. Being floored by the things you can shrink wrap for a lifestyle I do not live, check.
There are some things in life that simply do not need to be shared. Not every thought needs an audience. Not every opinion needs a Facebook status. And not every household incident deserves a Snapchat. Sometimes silence is the healthiest thing we can offer the people around us.
Sometimes lessons need to be learned firsthand and not verbally. Like Easter. My heart and mind just could not get into being around big crowds. And like the best little sister I am, instead of using my own mental health as the reason, I used my brother’s instead. Because everyone struggles a little, some of us just do not share it.
I’d like to say last week started strong. It did not. It started with me waking up five minutes after my kid had to be at school. Not five minutes before we needed to leave, nope. Five minutes for his para to worry the worst. She is the only one allowed to judge me. I carried that guilt like a backpack full of bricks, because one small slip on my part affects more than just the two of us.
