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Like shooting stars.

I was driving and L was talking about going to visit Grandma. This is how our conversations usually go.

L: How we get there?
me: Well, it’s pretty far away. We could drive there.
L: Okay!
me: But that would take a long time. We could fly.
L: Ma! We don’t have wings!!
me: You make a good point, sir. We’d have to take an airplane.
L: Where we find one of those?
me: The airport.
L: Oh!

It all makes sense now.

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Snug and safe from harm.

Today was a day.

My ferret had seizures all morning and screamed this scream. It hurts too much to think about. After calling many vets, I finally got him in somewhere. I texted R and she was good to not come. I called S’s school and he came out to say goodbye. L fell asleep on the way there, which was good because the 15 minute cat nap was just the thing to make him L again, after a crazy morning.

Spike’s seizures never stopped. Even after they gave anti seizure meds. She found a thumb size mass in his abdomen. He was in so much pain. He was in the lifespan range. And the only kind option left was to put him down so he wouldn’t be in pain anymore.

And I did this all with a 3 year old.

I cried. Obviously. And he made his concerned face, which, to the untrained eye is a glare, but is just him processing.

After they sedated Spike and left the room (by the way, the nurse and doctor were the kindest, nicest people I have even encountered), I asked L how he was. He said, “I a little sad” and I told him it was just right to be a little sad and he said “do you want to be sad together?” and I said if we have to be sad, together is the best way to do it.

You were very loved, Spike. I’ll look out for your sister. Rest easy.

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I’ll always be there when you wake.

There is nothing like sleeping next to the heat of a fevered child. My youngest has come down with something. Or he has a tooth coming in. He was seemingly fine, and then he sneezed at 5:45pm. He’s been runny since then. Asked for a bath, watched a few cartoons, got into his jew PJ Masks pajamas, went to sleep. He woke up less than 20 minutes later, crying inconsolably and touching his cheek and teeth. He kept sticking his tongue out and just leaving it out like he didn’t have room for it in his mouth. I gave him motrin.

Now here we are, five hours later and he radiates heat. Whether my kids are three years old or fifteen, that fever penetrates not only my skin, but my heart.

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What it all comes down to.

Wednesday I was going to write about my son’s birthday. And how when you turn 12, you request to light your own candles. (And that at 15, you request to light said candles for your brother, and your mom giggles at you that you still can’t work a lighter.)

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I was going to say how grown up he suddenly looks. And that cinnamon cake is the best cake.

Thursday I was going to say that birthday week always backburners all my regular mom things and that I finally got to clean out the fridge (only a week late) and that I never felt bad about myself for the delay. Just joy that I could have a nice time with my family. And a taaaad bit of regret that we didn’t finish those vegetables and the elderberry syrup.

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Friday I was going to tell of the sad tale of Harley killing a rabbit in our yard at 5am. (No picture.) And of skillful (read: accidental) pancake art.

And more tales of the dog being so. incredibly. dog.

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But I didn’t get a chance to share those stories this week, and now all I really want to say is that I can’t find my hair tie. Anyone got an extra?

 

 

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The outside turning in.

I haven’t written in a long time. Again. I don’t even want to be writing right now.

I have been actively participating in life. I have been staying on top of responsibilities. Actions that, in the past, have paralyzed me. Phones call to find three different new doctors/specialists for my kids. More phones to set up appointments and preregistrations. More phone calls when something comes up and the doctor needs to reschedule. Filling out paperwork. Going to new appointments. Navigating my daughter’s desire to have nothing to do with me. Navigating my son’s desire to have no confidence in himself whatsoever. (Okay, he probably doesn’t *desire* this…but also…kinda?… He’s a conundrum.) Also add in school supply shopping and orientations. And R’s eye exams and new glasses.

I’ve wanted to tell actual stories about all these things, but after accomplishing all these really hard for me things, I’m just too exhausted to sit and write about them.

And now that I’ve typed all this out I have to navigate the sadness that I haven’t found room to do both act and process. I will need to be gentle with myself as I find a way to balance back out before I burn myself out.

In the meantime, I’m going to sit here with L for the first quiet morning I’ve had in weeks.