My head finally won. The pace of two darling toddlers is a wee bit faster than what we have at home. Both boys sometimes crave the attention as badly as I do. Having only one daughter, I’m thoroughly enjoying the interaction of two little guys close in age. My parenting was much different in some ways because of this. Stephanie does a fabulous job.
Ollie, all of 21 months, is my climber. These feats amuse me all the more since my own blonde offspring was also part goat. Ollie prefers the view from the top of the kitchen table. He hasn’t yet discovered the passage to the roof, but I feel assured such antics are coming this way. That goofy grin of accomplishment demands giggles from any adult viewer.
Teddy, the elder brother, will be four in December. Teddy ponders problems to a greater extent. I imagine that he will fashion the exact path to the roof for Ollie to scamper. His comments, questions and worries should be compiled so they may be treasured at a distant date.
They love rough housing. Teddy could be having a serious discussion with me, stating his one and only knock-knock joke when Ollie, with a basket over his head runs full-steam ahead to tackle his older sibling. Loud screams of enthusiasm are soon heard as the two entertain themselves and anyone watching.
Anyway, yesterday was a busy time. We were eating a scrumptious dinner. I was trying to talk with both boys while answering Bob’s questions of future fishing expeditions. When my head swivels, my brain decides it’s time to tackle. The pressure on both of my temples finally imploded. The pain is spectacular when this happens. (The discomfort is unfortunately not unique to just Connecticut.) We had just finished dinner, and I thought that I calmly left the table without disrupting the evening for everyone else. I hoped to sneak upstairs, but I hadn’t considered my little shadow who lovingly stays within 2.189 inches from my side. I made it as far as the landing on the stairs before it felt like my head was totally exploding. Cold bars of pain shot from the top of my head in a psychedelic deluge. I wanted to scream! My vision turned very blurry while my vertigo slammed me against the wall. Soon the torrent of tinnitus screamed its entrance. My mask of peace and comfort flew off my face as I tried to hide my tears from my Teddy. His mom was soon gently at my side, providing me with some of the relief I needed. She always has been excellent at knowing my pain level and possible ways to lessen the blow. Her calm voice and gentle attention helped ease the pain.
After medication and quiet seclusion, my maternal calling to see the boys overrode my discomfort. It’s now about 24 hours later and my temples are still quickly vibrating. There is a cold barbed rod jammed up my back to my cerebellum. In other words, I still feel cruddy. My brain is even more fuzzled than normal. That’s hard to fathom; I know.
My daily devotional from a chronic pain site was perfect for me today. God surely winked at me. It stated how despite my agony, God is with me. Even when words can’t form a complete thought, God knows my prayers and can clearly decipher my pleas.
I can hear certain readers thinking that I am once again trying to join on the pity parade. They assume I want the sympathy. Oh well! They obviously don’t have chronic pain.
I got up early thanks to little fingers shaking my frame and even babysat them alone while my daughter once again started her busy schedule. It was fantastic. Stephanie took this time to attend a lengthy Bible study at a local church. A free nursery is provided, but I wasn’t about to give up any time with my toddlers. She came home to make lunch complete with her homemade apple butter and strawberry jam. Then she was off and about for her weekly bell practice at her own church home. God is firmly implanted in her heart and the Holy Spirit has completely encased her home. My grandsons know Jesus loves them.
My chronic pain gives me opportunities to visit the kids and witness their home. I am sometimes on the giving side of this relationship providing free babysitting and storytelling. More often, I am on the receiving side of support. I am blessed with a family who loves and supports me. Life is good.
Chronic Pain Can Prove Life is Good:
- Survival of horrid headaches reminds me that I really can be tough.
No comments:
Post a Comment