I’m late. Sawyer’s birthday was yesterday. I had promised myself that I would always get their birthday blogs posted on, or before their birthday, and for 9 years, I made that happen. Seems like a silly rule, especially because they won’t read these for almost another decade, but I know my kid. He will notice, he will say something. I WILL get called out, someday. But today, I’m practicing a little grace for myself. I tried to stay up the last few nights to write this, but exhaustion got the better of me, and I decided quality was better than timing. So, I’m late, and that’s just… life. Murphey and his law have set up camp and seem to have pre-paid for an extended stay. So, as we wait out his stint of pure chaos and stand by as he sets off random bombs at random times, we live on alert, with back up plans to our back up plans and take life day by day. We’ve learned to forgive tantrums, from the children and adults, as well realize that what gets done, gets done, and if that means rooms are messy, dishes are left, lessons and deadlines get missed, it is what it is. Only the most important things get handled, and what’s considered important today is very different to what was considered important 12 months ago.
The other night, the house was finally quiet. I was alone in my room around 11pm and the day had been a blur. Honestly, the last 2 months have been a blur. I’ve barely stopped moving, thinking, planning, doing in almost 18 months now, but the last 2 have been particularly stressful. I sat down, I closed my eyes and I exhaled and realized that I couldn’t. My chest was tight, it hurt to breath, exhaling fully wasn’t an option. Neither was inhaling. My vision narrowed and things got a bit hazy as I felt my heart rate escalate and I start to shake just a little from the inside out. I was starting to have a panic attack. The day was over, I was alone in a quiet room and the panic set in because I’m not supposed to fully exhale. ever. I’m no stranger to panic attacks, they don’t send me spiraling or create some onset of concern. They just are. They are a physical response to stress, fear, exhaustion, or excess adrenaline. Once they are over, I feel like I ran a marathon, and I’m tired. Sometimes for days. My chest feels the discomfort that you get when you inhale on a cold day, and the icy air fills your lungs, and you can feel that strain. That feeling will sit with me. It travels through to my back and I can breath, but it will stay there to remind me not to fully exhale. It’s my body telling me that it doesn’t know what to do if I stop holding my breath, if you relax completely, Murphy could leave his rented room, and decide to take a hammer to the pipes, or set the curtains on fire, and you could get caught off guard, because you’re too busy breathing. Stand at attention, be alert, be ready for action. Like a wild dog half sleeping outside it’s den, one eye slightly open, always ready. Just in case.
When I was younger, I would have these attacks while in the moment of the stressful event. During the test, while running late for your first day at a new job, in the middle of an argument with someone. They would come on as the adrenaline in my brain would spike. These days, its less common to have them in the moment of crisis. They tend to happen after, when I take a moment to be OK, which is better. It gives me the ability to handle them. Allows me to not make a crisis moment worse than it already is. Maybe it shifted with maturity, maybe I just learned to use the heightened chemicals to power through instead of panic, but that excess hormone needs to be used up eventually. It needs somewhere to go. I’m not clear on the science behind it all, but what I do know is that they are easier today than they were at 20. They don’t suck less, they are just easier. I don’t panic because of the panic. I consider that a win.
I suppose that’s a sign of adaptability, in it’s own way. Fact is, my brain over produces certain chemicals and daily medications sometimes just aren’t enough, and coping mechanisms sometimes are needed, or Xanex. Coping is healthier. Adapting is something humans do. Not because we want to, we most certainly don’t want to. But, we do evolve, sometimes individually within our lifetime based on experiences, and sometimes over generations, but it does happen to all living things at some point. It’s inevitable. I think the key is to accept that fact and try to practice some sembelance of grace with ourselves and others and their current abilities, because adaption will happen and it’s not always at the pace we want or need it to be. “This too shall pass” always seemed like a futile statment to me. It seemed like something people said when they didn’t know what to say, or were dismissing your crisis, as a crisis. But, maybe it’s more of a statement to wait for abilitiy to handle it, for the moment to panic and process, for lull between storms to regroup, for something to alter your perspective and alter whats considered a crisis. It’s a statement telling you to wait for the next the time that Murphey drops the buttered bread, but instead of being upset that its buttered-side down, assume it will be, have a reliable carpet cleaner on hand, and be happy it wasn’t peanut butter.
Sawyer,
This year, you looked at me and told me you hated life as virtual school dragged on, you went on medication for ADHD and had to handle side effects and moods swings and bordeom you didn’t know was possible. You watched me have panic attacks, and saw your dad get sick, and had to realized your parents are humans way earlier than most children do, and you froze when you saw your dad tear up in fear and frustration for the first time in your life, never knowing he had the ability to cry or that dad’s were even capable of being scared. You fought tears for no reason and struggled with understanding why there were feelings when the day had presented no real reason for them in that moment, and you had to accept changing plans and routines and responsibility you had never had before. You learned to wait, and you felt feelings of resentment and anger, and you learned to power through. The other day you made a statement that was both heartbreaking, but also pride-inducing, as our plans were cancelled once again, and as I braced myself for a melt-down from you, you simply said ” it’s ok… I figured that would happen. We’ve had nothing but bad luck for like 2 years.” It broke my heart that in the thick of your childhood, you have to do anything but just enjoy being a kid, but I was also proud of your for being able to accept the situation immediately, and although you had feelings, and you didnt ignore your disappointment, you were able to control it and find a way to understand the reasoning behind it and think about the other people involved and how much we are all doing to simply get through each day. In that moment, I simply said that ‘bad luck doesn’t last forever, this too shall pass.’ And although, I can’t predict the future, and I can’t tell you when or how, I do know that simply your ability to slowly tackle what’s infront of you and power through will make each of Murphy’s tricks less tricky as time moves along.
As you turn 9, my wish for you is that this next year is easier, not just by our luck changing, but by you finding your own coping mechanisms, whether they are 11pm panic attacks, or diving into a ‘Dog Man’ comic book to find a reason to laugh when life gives you nothing to smile about. It’s for finding a way to realize that sometimes Murphy shows up and he can be a complete asshole, but that accepting him as a part of life allows us to be better prepared in the wake of his destruction. This too shall pass, and when it does, don’t forget to take a few minutes to reflect, learn and know that it’s OK to not be OK for just a little while. Crying is a human response, regardless of your age or gender, and you don’t ever need a reason in the moment to be upset. Sometimes, you’re processing something that’s already over. Keep your world filled with things that make you laugh, and go to sleep reading or remincing on those things or moments, because that’s what will allow a bit of happy that will ultimately provide clarity to better handle Murphy and his bullshit tomorrow.
Your growth and maturity this year, especially the last few months, as been noticeable and impressive and I’m so proud with how much better you handled this year than you would have only a year ago. As you find your voice, sarcasm, coping mechanisms and happy moments, remember you’re never alone, we will always be here to help you clean up Murphy’s mess.
Happy 9th Birthday kiddo, you’re one of a kind and so much stronger than you know.
Love you to the moon and back,
Mom
Enjoy Life; Eat Candy 