When the Day Comes to a Standstill

For some reason, May is always a busy month for us.  Not only do we celebrate Mother's Day, our family celebrates 3 birthdays, one anniversary, and of course, writing our daughter's IEP for the coming school year.  Factor in t-ball, track, piano recitals?  Well, you get the picture.  We are bursting with activity!

This past Saturday, my husband and I were splitting activities: I was taking 2 of our children to my niece's First Communion and party and another birthday party after that while my husband took  our son camping for the weekend with Cub Scouts.  I spent Friday night ironing and organizing for a full day: packing extra clothes for the kids, snacks and activities for my 2-year-old for Church, all gifts wrapped and in the car.   All I would have to do is get myself and the kids dressed and ready in the morning and head out the door a little before 9.

Then at about 6 a.m., I heard a commotion in the bathroom.  Yep, Claire got sick.  The side effects of the  migraines, thanks to her hydrocephalus, decided to make an unscheduled visit on our busiest day of the month.  Clearly none of this is in her control, but these are times I really hate her hydrocephalus. We have everything set and scheduled and she ends up missing out on the fun of spending time with her family and friends.  She's missed field trips, class parties, and all sorts of fun activities because of the hydrocephalus.

It angers me that she misses out on the fun.  It also makes me feel like a failure as her mother, like I've let her down somehow.  Clearly this is irrational, and I have learned to be more flexible about cancelling plans, but the loss of control I feel over the entire situation really eats away at me sometimes.


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Jennifer is a mom to 3 children, one of whom is a different learner.  She is passionate about all the things your mother taught you not to speak about in polite company:  politics, religion, and public education.  You can read her blog about her daughter's challenges and triumphs with hydrocephalus and learning disabilities, as well as the parental frustrations and joys of life at A Walking Contradiction, here.