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I am a below knee amputee. More importantly, I am also Mommy to two boys, a very active 10 year old (Robby) and an mischievous toddler (Timmy). I have learned that being a parent with a disability can create some unusual and sometimes humorous situations. This blogger is available for hire! Let's talk and learn how a blog can expand your business.

Tuesday, June 10, 2014


Yesterday was not my best showing in the mom department. Both boys were extremely needy, and by the end of the day I felt as if I had no more to give. They both exhausted my already limited reserves, and it took all my internal strength not to barricade myself in the treehouse with a box of Ho Ho's!

I don't know what was wrong with Timmy, but he was inconsolable all day. He spent the majority of the day fussing and screaming. I desperately tried to calm him down only to be reminded that my mothering abilities were wholly inadequate. I am amazed that a little baby could go so long without sleeping. A few times I thought I had lulled Timmy to sleep only to fall for his "I'm not really asleep and when you put me down I'm going to scream" ploy. Apparently I'm a slow learner, because I fell for his little trick more times than I can count!

The only moments Timmy was calm and comfortable were when I was walking with him. According to my Fitbit, I logged over 13,000 steps trying to soothe my little cranky cherub. Perhaps it was the fatigue meshing with my limb pain, but I began to wonder if my sweet little baby has a sadistic streak. Demanding that I walk constantly felt like cruel and unusual punishment. 

Fueled by the distress of his baby brother, Robby took the opportunity to become a never ending pit of need. I love my little Koopa. I really do. However, yesterday he pushed me to my limits. He picked a heck of a time to reintroduce Robby Rotten! 

The highlight of my day was overhearing a phone conversation between Robby and my Mom. After a particularly long screaming fit in which Timmy was red faced and sounded like an wild chimpanzee, Robby picked up the phone and called his Nana. I overheard him ask why his baby brother hated his Mom, and then he proceeded to tell her in great detail about Timmy being difficult. I would like to believe that he was venting, but I am more inclined to think that he was trying to get his little brother into trouble.

My prosthetist called yesterday and between Timmy wailing and Robby interrupting our conversation was cut short.  Being a parent himself he was able to laugh off the situation, and offered a sarcastic beacon of hope. "Just think, in a few days you'll be in the hospital. It sucks, but you will be able to sleep for several hours without being disturbed."  Unfortunately, he is correct. I am dreading the surgery, but the prospect of nobody wanting or needing anything from me for an afternoon is semi-appealing!

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