This is not my most positive post. Sorry, but it is just one of those days.
Hard day.
My body is tired. I over did it yesterday- I spent my free hours going through baby toys, clothes, etc for our upcoming garage sale while Maile, our PCA, had Roa. That, plus the usual appointments, laundry, house stuff...topped off with Gunnar fighting allergies in the night, wore me out.
Today, it would be so nice to sit and play with my boys. If they could run and play in the backyard, if they could stand at the sensory tables independently, if they could sit in the grass or sand box together and give me a bit of a break...
But that is not the cards Roa was dealt. He does not sit. He doesn't stand. He cannot walk independently.
So, there is no break for this mom. It has been an active morning for us all, playing in the backyard.
I am Roa's legs for walking and kicking. I am Roa's arms and hands for reaching and holding.
He laughs, he squeals, he has fun. BUT...
Eventually, I need a rest- take a drink of coffee, go to the bathroom, stretch my back.
When this happens, the crying begins, the yells, the pleading,
"MOMMMA....MOMMMMMA!"... so sorrowful.
It wraps me in guilt like a thick down quilt in the summer. That mornful cry because he can't do it on his own. He cannot play without me.
Three days a week. Three hours a day. Maile is Roa's play-assist. But the rest of the time while Daddy works, it is me- bending tight arms to reach for matchbox cars, moving stiff legs to help this weak torso sit forward towards the sand, pushing/pulling/steering a gait trainer on walks through the grass or down the street. I am Roa's play.
And when I need to step away- to tend to Gunnar, to make a meal, to breathe....
The sounds of sorrow fill the air. The begging cries of a child that can't do things on his own. He is stuck in a body that doesn't listen to his brain.
It breaks my heart. For four years now, I have listened to that cry. It is hard. Hard for me.
Hard day.
However, this is not about me.
For Roa, EVERYDAY is a hard day. Inside that body is a little boy who struggles to get out and play.
But right now, all he can get out is the sorrowful, begging call that I will fight through my own guilt-ridden parent emotions and help him play.
Thank you for sharing a hard day. Thank you for being honest. I too have been feeling the weight lately of being the "play assist," (and the guilt that when I can't. . . the TV is the most obvious alternative). The struggle - the internal one - of nearly four years of feeling GUILTY when I let my girl just sit and watch TV, feeling like I should be encouraging her to be active right in that moment, but knowing that "encouraging her" means she needs both of my arms to help her, and sometimes I need my arms, sometimes, her sister needs my arms, and sometimes, well, I just wish it wasn't so.
ReplyDeleteI am praying for you and I know how you feel. Wish our kids did not have to go through this. You know one thing I try to remember is that my worse day could not be as bad as one of her days trapped in a body that does not work. Keep your chin up Mommy and remember you are definitely not alone.
ReplyDeleteFaye