I can almost feel the warm sun beating down on me

Yesterday was going on day 3 of unseasonably cold and rainy weather. I was thinking that morning how I would love to just get out of town and go lay on a beach somewhere and, skin cancer be damned, bake myself in the sun. But alas, reality beckoned and off to the grocery store I went.

That afternoon, in a moment of ambition, I decided to get to work recovering our dining room chairs. I unscrewed the seat from the frame and flipped it over to discover someone in a fit of upholstering madness had affixed the fabric to the cushion with literally like 100 staples. After 20 minutes of prying at the staples with a screwdriver and needle nosed pliers and getting nowhere the curse words were flying. At this prime moment, the phone rang and I saw the 3 words I dread seeing most on the caller i.d. in the middle of the day, "County School District". Uh-oh.

I pick up the phone and Drew's significant special needs teacher, Amy, is on the other end telling me that he was having a great day and then around 2 o'clock the wheels fell off and there had been some atrociously bad behavior. She then asked if I could come down to the school and see if I could get him back on track. Throwing my damn chair cushion in the corner, I got my keys and headed out.

I got to the school and was met in the SSN room by a wound up Drew, the principal, and Amy, all looking at me as I walk in as though I am going to be able to offer something meaningful to this whole situation. It is always in those moments that I sometimes want to quip, "Whataya lookin' at me for? I just work here". In these moments there is often some circus announcer type voice in my head saying, "watch the mother as she performs a feat of daring and turns her insolent child into an angel". As if! Nothing like performance parenting.

I would love to say that I swept into the room, had a Hallmark-esque moment with my son in which he offered rational and redeeming reasons for the bad behavior while all the adults nodded in understanding. Unfortunately, my kid is not wired for warm fuzzy Hallmark moments. I talked to him for a minute while he showed his appreciation for my rousing speech by emptying out the contents of his desk. Seeing that the direct approach wasn't going to work I did my standard turn-Drew-around song and dance which consists of me telling him that I am going to go sit on the other side of the room and when he is ready to talk to come over. Then I plant myself in a chair and proceed to ignore him until he calms down. Not a technique that after school specials are built around but it works.

After 15 minutes of staring at the wall pretending it was the most interesting thing on the planet, he finally came over, we talked and he got himself back on track. Whew!

I went home, called Kevin at work and said that I was hear by retiring from responsible life. I announced that I would be shoving my bikini and some flip flops in my purse and heading for the airport and the nearest beach where I would live out the rest of my days wresting with important matters such as which poolside drink to have or where to best place my towel on the beach. As if!

Ethan's 8th Birthday

Ethan turned 8 last Saturday and he had a party with about 10 of his friends. He was so excited for the party and to have all his friends over. The party was a hit and all of us over the age of 8 were exhausted and needed some aspirin afterwards but the birthday boy had a great time.

I was thinking last weekend about the day he was born and how that seems so long ago but at the same time, the time has gone quickly. I really can't believe he is 8 and how grown up he has become.

Waving my white flag

I am going on month 4 of this horrendous back pain stuff and I really, really over it. Yes, things have improved from where they were a few months ago. I am not in agonizing pain 24/7 and for that I am grateful. What I am not grateful for; however, is the continual, daily discomfort that has been my life for the past few months. I am not curled up on the couch on Vicodin daily anymore but I am still a lot more uncomfortable on a daily basis then I would care to be and I have no idea when I wake up in the morning what kind of day it is going to be. I also am fed up with not being able to exercise at all like I used to. Walking daily just doesn't feel the same as going out for a 10 mile run and I really miss that feeling of release that comes from a good, hard workout.

So, after months of this I am feeling broken down from it all. I am sick and tired of pep talking my way through everyday. I am frustrated by not knowing how I am going to feel on any given day. On top of all that, what is bothering me most is I feel I have lost something of myself that I valued.

Six months ago, I felt like the world was my oyster. I have always sort of prided myself on being a person who "sucked the marrow out of life" as Thoreau put it. I was up for anything and wanted to experience everything. I have always had great plans to see all the nooks and crannies of this earth and in general, just experience the joy of living. Now, I am lucky to make dinner at night or to be able to sit for one hour straight. Hardly sucking the marrow out, in my opinion.

My physical therapist tells me that for people with my back issue it is generally 6 months to one year for a complete recovery. I obviously have more time to put in, begrudgingly. I just pray that in the meantime I can hold on to that feeling of possibility or of hope deferred. To believe that it IS going to get better and to not judge the process. Keep your fingers crossed for me.