My low today began with this:
I turn off the cleaner, gently unwind her hair and by this time, she is hysterical and me, shortly thereafter, I was too. Felt like a crap mother number one. Should have seen that coming but mostly, the reality, of it was this. Zoey was clueless and helpless. She could not call for me and she could not help herself in anyway. Like I said ... helpless. Which is true across the board, the truth be told. I could leave her in a room for instance. Unattended for an extended period of time and that would be that. She could not do one thing to help herself. She would more then likely not 'say' a word. At least not anything that would be understood by anyone. I cannot leave her on a chair or the couch and certainly cannot leave her 5 year old body in the tub for even a second. She is, simply put, a 100 % dependant on another human being, severely disabled child. It wasn't really about the vacuum. It was about that kick in the gut reality check that comes from time to time. An unwelcome reminder. I got over myself fairly quickly and moved on with my day. Cuz that my friends, is how I do it.
As for the high:
It would have to be this child. My handsome rocker boy. Who hates to shop but was so loving going to pick out an outfit this evening for his student concert jam session tomorrow night. He knew just what he wanted, my little anti-shopper. Black Levis with a solid black dress shirt. Found them immediately. He walked out of the dressing room with this air of confidence.
And might I add, walked out looking so grown up all of the sudden. I looked at him, my 11 year old newly contact lense wearer, beautiful boy and my heart nearly leap from my chest. Realizing, 12 years ago exactly, I boarded a plane and headed to Chapel Hill, North Carolina for a tubal reversal that would result in the blessing of not only this child, my first son, but two other unexpected gifts. The last being Zoey. The one we say we waited for all of our lives.
The same child who thankfully still is sporting long and flowing locks. No thanks to me. Scratch me off the list once again for that Mother of The Year award.