Surgery successful. 🙂 Figuring out mobility and stimulation for a frightened girl on the spectrum much tougher. This is a mish-mash of my thoughts in connection.
Too tired to articulate much.
Feel like my life has been
More or less sucked
Down a long, narrow hole.
Scrambling to stay up,
Dirt breaking beneath my
Snatching desperately at pieces of
Routine to buoy me,
Only to have them snap off in my hand
Like flimsy blades of grass.
Love and pain and helpless worry
Swell in my heavyish heart.
Feel so selfish to want for peace
Over what should be matter-of-fact sacrifice.
Isn’t this motherhood, after all?
Where is my willing patience
And brimming bowl of sage advice?
Instead, I am full of prickliness and
Overpowering waves of inadequacy.
Terrible to fixate on my own feelings.
What about hers?
She is the stuck one, after all.
But, oh, every hour now is reduced to
How do we survive it?
Every moment is extra sets of mindfulness
I struggle to possess.
Offers of help just
Make me cringe.
They are just full of churchy obligation,
Not genuine friends.
And I feel the urge to swipe out with a teeth-gritting,
This is our challenge.
Take your simpering faces and
Your steaming, unappetizing
And let us alone.
We have to figure it out our
Preserve independence another day.
All I can hope for is it all
Getting easier over time.
All we can do is look down the weeks-long tunnel
And know betterment lies on the other side…