A Day of Coping

Today I'm not at my house.

My sweet child proofed house that has no real yard and is really a townhouse apartment. Constant supervision of the children is needed when they are outside, it's taxing. After about 10 min I'm done. My kids hate being cooped up inside watching tv so inside is no better. 

A week ago I "sold" my husband back to his parents. Not really. Being around the house with no real job other than me and the kids was driving him into driving me mad. 

The first week of him being 3 hours away (it was only 4 days) almost killed me. Then my son had a heart wrenching and painful moment that caused me to move to fast- I felt like I was hit by a car. 

Therefore here I am. My kids can free range (we are at farm) and I can sit on the porch and only need to get up to kiss booboo's. I can redirect the kids in the yard by yelling. Meanwhile like a lifeguard at a pool I watch my kids play with trucks and sticks and sand. I drink coffee and just watch. 

This is madness. I want to teach my 3 year old to climb the latter to the playhouse and the adventures he can have up there! I want to push my youngest on a trike! I want to go for walks and chase them. 

I want to use my double jogging stroller (which is sadly covered in pollen) Going through my day I realize how I cope. Every morning I wake up greeted by pain. A 6/7 on the doctors pain scale. By Tylenol time it's a 5/6 and after that if I keep up with the drugs I'm a 3 or 4. 

First up- pee. I'm in so much pain trying to sit that this is long process. I pull myself up by the sink. And stumble around to flush. I lean into the sink to wash my hands. Focusing on the soap on my hands. Trying to ignore the feeling of someone stabbing my back. Least I forget to lock the door I will have 1-2 children watching me. When the kids watch I have to be extra careful to not show weakness or pain. It makes them extra clingy and that will cost me by the end of the day. 

Before breakfast I make myself coffee- denying my kids immediate need for milk or water. If I'm thinking the night before I'll prep it. My husband or mother in law saw my struggle and got the milk while I took 3 extra strength Tylenol. I drink my coffee and scroll through Facebook and chit chat with friends on messenger. Anything to get my mind off the knives in my back. 

When my Tylenol kicks in I try and move. If I'm alone it's making pancakes (homemade mix and water- easy peasy) I huddle over the table supervising the starving children hoping and praying they don't ask me to get up. 

I nibble on some food- the Tylenol has already made me feel ill. The it's play time. I try and set them up so I move as little as possible. I get my coffee and phone and pick a spot. I supervise, I find a comfortable position and then I'm in pain. Ok, adjust, and 5 more min I need to move again. Usually a simple but wiggle will fix it but sometimes that act makes me want to cry. My pain is dull and soft. Tylenol makes it bearable but it never goes away. It's the sharp I'm trying to keep away. 

The kids come to me for kisses for their wounds unless they are stuck or bleeding. I use my feet to unstick feet from holes and try not to bend. Bending causes more pain than squatting- but squatting I have less balance which leads to falling- more pain that way. 

Nap time for the little comes- I make him crawl his own steps. Change him and put him in his crib or pack and play. I sits there and whines at me as I get his comfort items. If they are on the floor I cringe. Fucking gravity. I try not to lean over the crib. He usually will lay down on his own so I can tuck him in. A gentle stroke of his face I tell him I love him and I walk out. 

Time for pain medication. 

Depending on the day it might be a muscle relaxer or good old Tramadol. Other days it's Tylenol and wine. I use my meds sparingly right now. I'm waiting on a spine specialist referral. 

For the next hour I get my big focused on lunch, and nap. Nap time is rest time for me. My big falls asleep before I can even get comfortable. He's used to me moving a lot. Moving is a catch 22. It hurts to do it and if I don't I hurt more. Some days I get stuck in bed. Unable to move my body in a way to get up. Last week my big had to push me so I could get out of my bed. By the time I'm almost asleep little is awake. Diaper and play time in his room till the big is awake. We do not want to climb the stairs to much. My little does not understand. 

Sometimes he pushes me and it makes me ache so much. He is faster than me, I can't catch up to his fullest speeds. They are both up. Try and get them outside. Try to not die (or feel like dying) they are moving to fast, going to far if I'm home. Here at the farm they often try to run to the shop. Today they played. My mother in law pushed Ethan and did his diaper. To her horror I don't put shoes on the Big. It hurts. Picking up the little hurts too. 

I try and direct them to the TV once their dad is home to give him a break. The rest of the day falls on him. It's not fair. 

I should not be done for the day. Dinner, baths, bed, smores, etc? It should not cost me and it should not fall all on my husband. He questions me on my pain- it's high. I start my prescriptions. I haven't drunk enough water today so I forego the wine in the fridge. I try a shower instead. It helps nothing. 

So here I am. Awake. How many short cuts did I take? I evaluate my day. My kids are snug in their beds sleeping. That's great. They played outside- that is fantastic. They ate good meals- feeling better I was an absent mom- bad, I feel awful. 

They saw me in pain and my big asked me why I was walking funny- not good. I spent 10 min with my little - mom fail.