Ok. Let’s start over

Listen February, I feel like I’ve been doing my part to restore our relationship.  I put some real effort into changing my attitude. I planted strawberries and asparagus and got my seed-starting plan together.  I even uncharacteristically bought a duvet cover for the tattered old comforter that we sleep with in the front room/living room/play room/office/second bedroom.  But you responded with………….illness?  Ok, Mr D came down with the virus last week so technically we could blame it on January.  But g’s all-night, screaming-in-pain event on the anniversary of his emergency surgery?  Dude, that was below the belt.

Yes, I know that he has a tendency to be dramatic.  Yes, I now understand that it was almost certainly sinus-related and he seems to be fine.  But I’m exhausted.  And, given the power of understanding to guide a relationship in the right direction, I want to explain why this exhaustion is much more than the absence of a single night of sleep.

You see, parenting a child whose survival is so tightly entangled with loss (What’s that? You’re right, you’re not to blame for the death of g’s twin and yes, I will talk to April about that one) is a particular kind of challenge.  It doesn’t matter that I understand how important it is to send him out into the world to develop coping skills and become strong.  Or the fact that I know that things happen and kids get sick and hurt.  Parenting g is a daily struggle against my desire to dress him in bubble wrap and arrange all the activities he could ever want right here in our living room.

Because I have never fully emancipated myself from the fear that I wouldn’t be able to keep him safe.  And yes, I see that for the most part he’s managing quite well.  I promise you that I’m working on it. I think I’ll get there eventually. But in the meantime?  Please go easy on me.


5 thoughts on “Ok. Let’s start over

  1. I so get this. February. I share the same struggle with Z. It’s become particularly amplified after W’s accident. I was just worrying about it actually as I was pulling up to her pick up line at school. I was thinking to myself… How do I keep her safe. In so many ways, not just physically… It’s terrifying. I wish I had the answer. But for now just commiseration and love.


    1. Hi Pam!!!!
      Yes. I think that this is probably THE challenge of parenthood. But facing potential consequences close-up, as in W’s accident, makes it all so much more real. And, as you say, terrifying.
      It’s nice to see you. I hope that writing and life-in-general is going well.


  2. Oh mama, sending you a virtual hug. Parenting is the hardest job in the world, be kind to yourself the fact that you care is soooo important. We just have to be careful that we don’t give our children our worries, they are too big for them to deal with 😉

  3. I’m so sorry. I have a hard time with certain things, like letting my children walk outside where there are CARS. I see other people letting their toddlers get like, four or five yards away on a sidewalk. I can’t handle it. I’m not equating my anxiety to yours, I think mine’s just a tiny taste of what you must feel. And to have it all exacerbated by that terrible scare… So anyway, the fact that you are able to combat it, and do such a fine job with g…it’s admirable. He’s going to be okay. Not just in a he’s not going to die sense, but it a he’s going to be strong and wonderful sense.

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