Croup

Sunday night I woke up to the telltale barking cough coming from Timmy's room. I put my leg on and began to move in one swift movement, anxious to help to ease his breathing. We sat in the humid bathroom for almost an hour until the barking resided and his breathing was no longer labored.  Last night we repeated the cycle of sleep, barking, steam and sleep several times.

I remember waking up with croup when I was young. The terror of not being able to breath clearly, coupled with being forced to sit next to a steaming shower etched strong memories. Although I now know that my Mom was never going to throw me into the shower, I remember being scared of the hot water. I suspect that Timmy has the same fear because he begins to scream from panic as soon as the water is turned on. Curling up in the corner of the bathroom floor and quietly waiting for him to come and sit down next to me isn't comfortable, but it seems to be the best way to keep him calm.

His cough is still barking this morning, and he sounds extremely congested. I worry about my little guy, but I know that croup is more scary than dangerous. I'm going to try to keep him quiet today. I wish he was interested in cartoons, because it would be the perfect day to cuddle on the couch and watch Paw Patrol. Instead, I'm going to be trying to keep him off the trampoline and off the cat. 

Canceling Mother's Day

Many years ago I realized that the commercialized version of Mother's Day is both unrealistic and unattainable. Expecting a day filled with doting from your children and husband only results in disappointment when they fail to reach the Hallmark ideals. Not long after coming to terms with the non-existent Mother's Day in my fantasies, I lowered my expectations to thwart disappointment. Unfortunately, this year I am afraid I didn't lower the bar enough.

All I wanted for Mother's Day was to sleep in, to have Robby deliver me coffee in bed and to go to the farm for a day of family fun.  Despite my being vocal about my wishes, I found myself pulling a squawking Timmy out of his crib before dawn. Not willing to wait another 4 hours for Robby to wake up, I made my own coffee and quietly entertained Timmy by myself.  So much for sleeping in on Mother's Day!

When Scott woke up he could tell that I was disappointed with his failing to wake up to take care of Timmy, forcing me to abandon the first of my Mother's Day wishes.  Frustrated and feeling hurt, I left to do some grocery shopping before the stores became busy. To his credit, Scott must have heard me when I expressed my disappointment in my Mother's Day morning. When I came home, the traditional "World's Best Mother" banner was hanging from the porch.

Unfortunately, it was filthy, wrinkled from being balled up in the garage and hung upside down. Any sentiment that was meant to be communicated was lost by the careless execution of the gesture.  Robby finally rolled out of bed around 10. I was greeted with a request for pancakes to be delivered to him as he played a computer game. So much for his waking up to make me breakfast!  

It was perfectly clear that nobody in the house was concerned with honoring me on Mother's Day.  I was quite relieved when the dirty covered banner finally fell off of the porch, almost as if it was the universe granting me permission to cancel the holiday.  I called time of death on Mother's Day and decided that the day would continue as a normal Sunday.

The key to a happy #mothersday is to keep expectations to a minimum.

A photo posted by Peggy Friedman Chenoweth (@amputeemommy) on May 8, 2016 at 5:37am PDT

Mother's Day Weekend

I survived my first yoga class! Despite my instructor's concerns about my abilities to participate and complete the moves, I did not have any trouble.  When I arrived and realized that there was only one other lady signed up for the course, I began to understand my instructor's pleas for me to disenroll.  I suspect that she was frustrated that she was obligated to teach a class to only two students for six weeks. If I had heeded her advice, she would have had cause to cancel entirely. 

I'm sore this morning, but looking forward to the weekend. I have learned a long time ago to keep my Mother's Day expectations low. At this juncture, instead of gifts and doting I am going to be grateful if I am allowed to sleep beyond 5.

I'm sure that Scott and Robby dig my "World's Best Mother" banner out of the garage and hang it from the balcony. The pair will both try to abide by my "no fart talk" decree, although I'm not terribly optimistic that they will be successful. Not only are they banned from discussing flatulence, but I have put a moratorium on talking about all bodily functions. An entire weekend without "guess that smell" and "pull my finger" is going to feel luxurious! With their topics significantly stymied, I suspect that the pair are going to have a difficult time maintaining conversations.

On Sunday I registered to take Robby to the Mother's Day brunch at our local club. Scott is going to stay home with Hamlet, allowing me the opportunity to actually enjoy a meal without the stress and chaos that ensues when we take the little tornado into public.  I predict that my diet will be derailed slightly, but special occasions warrant splurging. I'm sure I'll get back on track on Monday morning, when life returns to normal. In the meantime, I'm going to enjoy the ban on bathroom humor and the extra sleep.

Happy Mother's Day Weekend!

I'm Special Needs?

Tonight I am doing something completely out of my comfort zone. I've been wanting to try yoga for a long time, but being self conscious about both my body and my abilities has always held me back. I finally mustered the courage to give it a try, and tonight is my first class.  I figured that I'm almost 42 and it's about time I stop letting vanity interfere with my activities. 

Yesterday afternoon I received an email confirming the class and asking for my contact information. Apparently the yoga instructor wanted to speak with me. I assumed that she was calling all participants, so I didn't really think much about it when I responded with my phone number.

It turns out that she was not calling everybody who enrolled, but was concerned about my possibly being an amputee.  (Considering that my email is amputeemommy@gmail.com, it was a fairly safe assumption.) The instructor was worried about my ability to participate in yoga and actively tried to discourage  me from taking the course. She explained that this was not a "special needs" yoga course, and that I would be responsible for adapting all of the moves because she wouldn't have time to help me.

I must admit that I was taken aback by the entire conversation. The more she spoke, the more adamant I felt that I was taking the course. I have never been one to back down from a challenge. Only now I don't feel challenged by trying a new activity (yoga), I feel determined to prove the instructor wrong. I may not be able to do every move, and it may not look pretty, but I'll be doing yoga with everybody else tonight.

Bad Weather Blues

The dreary weather of the past few days has been wearing me down. While we haven't experienced steady rain, the pop-up thunderstorms have been working to keep everything ugly and wet.  I keep trying to remind myself that "April showers bring May flowers," but in all honesty the rhyme is offering little solace. I miss the sun and I'm tired of the mud and muck from the rain.

Timmy has been wreaking havoc around the house. He is certainly an outside kid, requiring room to run and move. Trying to keep him contained and occupied has been utterly exhausting. It turns out that it is less work running after him outside than trying to entertain him inside the house. After a few days of Timmy confinement, my house has become a chaotic minefield of toys and crumbs. 

Looking for the positive, I haven't experienced the phantom pain that many times accompanies these weather patterns. For whatever reason, my leg has been feeling fine. Dealing with the mud, downed tree limbs and an energetic but bored Timmy, I will count my leg comfort as a blessing.

Hopefully the weather will break soon and we can blow all of the dirt and gunk away. In the meantime, I think today is the perfect day for a jumping adventure. Hopefully he will be able to jump some of his energy away.

Riding

Robby and I have been thoroughly enjoying training for the Great Cycle Challenge. Each night after dinner and after we tuck Hamlet into bed, we hop onto our bikes and meander through the neighborhood. He talks as he pedals, allowing me a precious insight into his world and thought process.  Between his new bicycle and more time in the saddle, he is turning into a strong rider. 

I have always loved riding my bike and being able to share this activity with Robby has only enhanced my enjoyment. When I became an amputee I was convinced that I would never again feel the exhilaration that comes from riding. I settled for a stationary bike out of a fear which had grown to irrational proportions. I became so paralyzed by my fear of falling or of my leg falling off while pedaling that I refused to even try for almost a decade. It wasn't until I saw Robby overcome his fear of the bike that I realized I needed to follow his example. 

Riding with a prosthesis feels almost identical to when I had both biological legs. I'm decidedly more cautious, but at my age that probably isn't a bad thing. After all, falling off a bike in your 40's could be considerably more painful with a lengthy recovery than when I was Robby's age. 

I'm so happy that I overcame my cycling phobia. If I had let my fears continue to hold me back, I would be missing out on this great quality time with Robby. He is at an age where he would rather spend time with his friends or on the computer. The fact that he asks to go riding with me is something that I don't take for granted.  (Rest assured, little Timmy gets plenty of riding time. I frequently stick him into his baby buggy and pull him around the neighborhood when the weather is favorable.)

Weekend Wrap-Up

Friday afternoon I packed up the boys and headed to my Mom's for the weekend. We didn't have any grand plans, but the prospect of just relaxing and hanging out for a few days was enough motivation to drive.  Scott opted to stay in Virginia so that he could enjoy some "bachelor time" while lounging around the house. He often chooses to not accompany us on these trips, which is fine because I think that an occasional weekend apart is good for everybody. 

My cousin came to visit on Saturday. Her baby girl Aleena is just a few months younger than Timmy. It was a lot of fun watching the two interact, trying to figure out what to do with another little person in the room. Both kids are accustomed to being the baby of the family, and sharing this role was difficult for them to navigate.  Eventually they figured it out, assuming that their respective mother did not pay too much attention to the other child.

Yesterday I came home, and returned to the reality of dishes in the sink and laundry piled on the floor. Oh how I wish I had a Fairy Godmother who tackle all of the household chores with the wave of her wand. I've tried to conjure some magic with Robby's magician wand but only resulted in looking foolish and nearly knocking over a lamp. 

Lacking any magical intervention, I suspect that I'll have to buckle down this week and whip this house into shape. Visiting with my Mom was considerably more fun than cleaning...