I came over here because I feel it bubbling inside of me like a boiling cauldron. I have no specific reason as to why I was drawn here, but here I am. I suppose today was a mixed bag of ups and downs. Today was a day of learning and consequences. There is not one particular thing that is bothering me or on my mind, but there have been several things in the last two days that were unexpected or just plain disappointing. Their father did not call yesterday, which was Father's Day, but we went to celebrate our father. Essentially, my children were forced to face the glaring reality that their father did not nor has not called in forever. My heart was aching for them. Yesterday, the paperwork also came, officially stating my hours are dropping by over 20 a month. This was expected, but as is often the case, wasn't real to me until I had the notice in hand. I should feel blessed that I even have the job I do, or more specifically, that I get paid to do it, but without the pay, it makes it difficult to feel easy in our lives.
Processing information often takes longer for me, so by the time it hit me, it was seven at night. What do I do when I am upset over something? I clean. When you think clean, you probably think standard scrubbing like the dishes, but when I clean, it is more like I am trying to scour the pain away. While cleaning did exactly what it was supposed to do for me emotionally, it had some added not so bonuses for me. I forget that I have a back condition that isn't going away. Degenerative Disc Disorder does not get cured without surgery. At thirty two, I feel I am too young to take such a drastic step, so I refused. I pushed too hard last night and found myself in excruciating pain by ten. I haven't been to the doctor in months because, for one, I do not like my doctor, and for two, I do not feel another lecture on the benefits of a back surgery that is not a guaranteed fix is in order. Avoiding the doctor has meant leaving myself without any medication for when I do those kinds of things. I would like to say that it doesn't happen often, but I am a mother of two autistic children. Taking it easy, or even remembering that I have this, is often not my first priority. So, I woke up nearly immobile. Fortunately, Puck was here to help.
The day started as most of ours do: With confusion and misunderstanding. We aren't really morning people. We lounged about, chatted with some friends, and just let me rest my back for most of the day. At around three this afternoon, I hobbled into the kitchen for something and happened to glance at the fish tank. One of the fish had died. I turned on the overhead light, praying it was my son's, because my daughter is so incredibly sensitive. No such luck. It was in fact, Alexandria, SS's fish. So, I had to go explain to her that her fish had to go to heaven. I told her that fish get to heaven by swimming through the toilet to the sea. As she is standing there, trying to process what I had just told her, I knew how bad this was for her. She did not cry. For SS, that is a bad sign. Walking solemnly in precession down the hall to the bathroom, I tried to find the words to tell my little girl. I sat in the bathroom with the rest of the family while my daughter silently prayed, hands together in front of her eyes, that God would protect her fish. Then she reached over and sent Alexandria to heaven. When it was done, she just stood there. I finally found some words that I hope helped her to cope. I told her that her sister was surely thankful to have a fish to play with now and that she would watch over Alexandria until SS was there. She asked me how old her sister is now. When I told her she would be ten, she said she was glad she was old enough to do a good job. Now, I know that this is just a fish, but it was a new fish and her first very own pet. This is the same girl to cry over dead flowers. It was heartbreaking. She went back to what she was doing almost immediately, but she blew up at her brother not long after.
Before she lashed out at her brother, my phone rang. My aunt wanting to know if I would be attending a function. I informed her I did not have a sitter. Her response was to come without Puck. I get that this is a family thing, but why does everybody just assume that Puck is there to watch the kids every time they want to have a thing that they don't want my children to attend? And, why do they assume I want to attend myself? Truth be told, I don't want to. These things are always uncomfortable and awkward for me. Somehow, I got roped into it, though. I will likely cancel, but I should have just said I couldn't make it. In the middle of this conversation was when SS melted down. I threw the phone at Puck and went running. We had a talk about being understanding and patient with our siblings. I held her and let her talk it out. Alexandria's death had sunk in further, but is not there yet. I left her to go back to her brother with a better attitude, hoping that the rest of the evening will be better.
Onwards to the kitchen, as it was dinnertime. Here I was looking around for things to make and something caught my eye. There, in magnets, which we use to communicate on harder days, was yet another thing that breaks my heart. My son had used these magnets and spelled out, "Please help me stop stealing, mom. -JJ" Wow, talk about a shout for help. We are working on it and we are trying to get him the help he needs. The magnets are there for that very reason due to the fact that, in our family, communication can be very difficult and uncomfortable. Instead of going to see him about it, I used my own magnets and spelled out, "I am trying. -Mom" Individually, we all had a hard or reflective moment today. It's draining.
We learn something new each day. That is a known statistic. Whether it is useless trivia, something about somebody, or something about ourselves, we all learn at least one thing a day. Today I learned that my family is more amazing than I have imagined. Realistically, I knew that, but some days, it is more evident. My daughter dealt with the death of her first pet with dignity, even if it was killing her inside. During it all, my son reached out and offered to share his fish and genuinely tried to be supportive. Puck helped me out today with everything I needed help with. I was able to rest my back a bit and hopefully allow it to heal some. My son, of his own volition, reached out and asked for help, however odd the means were. My family pulled together and made these two days, that could have gone so differently, bearable. They took potentially emotionally devastating circumstances and created something beautiful and almost magical with them. It has been a couple of rough days. Nothing really changes that. It's the support and forward steps our family made that really matter. Progress in the face of adversity is always something to smile about. And even through the dull ache of my heart and the searing pain in my back, that is exactly what I am doing.
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