Hell week, yet Grace wins

This has truly been the most insane week since even when the kids were first born. Beyond the merry go round of doctor appointments to determine why Dad was only peeing at night, why his hand was all puffy, why he was barely walking, and why he was more rigid and uncooperative than before, were the conversations. Conversations with the home health agency to reassess Dad's needs, conversations with his primary care about whether he needed to be admitted to nursing care, conversations with Mom and Mike about what Mom really wanted for Dad going forward. And then there was the new experience of taking care of someone who is for all and intents and purposes, suddenly no longer ambulatory. I don't think I ever fully appreciated how strenuous and dangerous nursing care is until this week, when Mom and I had to get Dad cleaned up, dressed, and out of bed each morning, when we tried to toilet him, and when we had to get him washed up, toileted, and changed for bed each night. It has been grueling.

Now, if this was the only thing going on in our lives, it might have been fine. But of course we have 3 young kids in the house, who also get up early, and need to get ready for school. So in parallel with the rodeo of getting Dad ready, was the packing of lunches, doing of hair, and general bustle of getting everyone out for the bus. Not to mention the walking and feeding of the dog. On day 2 of this ordeal, it was clear that Dad's new condition was no longer just noise in the background for the kids, it was having a direct negative impact on them and their lives. It took a meltdown from Sparky over the simple fact that she couldn't hold Mike's attention long enough to ask him a question to show us that. Day 2 was also the day that a bucket of soapy water got knocked off a stool while we were trying to get dad off his bed and into his wheelchair so Mom could wash him off. "This is a disaster," said Mom. And it was, as only a professional job done by two inexperienced non-professionals can be.

We are now set up with help to come in each morning, and are almost confirmed with help to come each evening. In addition we are hoping to get some medical equipment so that transporting Dad from here to there won't be so difficult. Even so, the unusual number of appointments Dad has had this week has turned our days into a treadmill that ends only when he goes to bed and the adults collapse at the table with dinner and a drink. By yesterday I found myself hoping fervently that this wasn't the new baseline because it wasn't sustainable. I have suspended some of my community commitments because my schedule is now unreliable. The kids come home and do their homework, I assume. Only Sparky gets checked on and this is because she still asks me to help her, if I'm home. Otherwise Amah helps her.

Before we left for vacation two weeks ago I was starting to feel like I was letting the kids down somehow. I was not as attentive, even when I was present. The kids had to ask and ask for me to do something for them, because I would start, then get sidetracked, then forget. I don't normally feel like I'm a bad parent, because I believe in good enough parenting. But lately I've been feeling like it really hasn't been good enough.

But today, though it was actually the craziest day, ended grace filled, for reasons that didn't have anything to do with me other than that I was the recipient. From my FB:

"As Mother's Day approaches it's not for the first time that I feel like my parenting had been slipping lately. This week, for first and second time, I have missed the afternoon bus because I've been at a doc appt running way overtime. Luckily a neighbor took the kids in, and later gave The Gift a key so she could get into the house to change for ballet. I got home in time to take her, 20 minutes late. As I followed her in, my eyes fell on her bun, which she did by herself for the very first time, once she must've realized I wasn't going to be able to do it. (It wasn't regulation, but it was perfect) Happy mother's day to me, sniiiiiffffffff"

And after:

"Another sign of Grace. The Gift was wondering if Miss Ashley would be mad at her for being late to ballet. I said I'm sure she won't but I'll explain to her after class. When I opened the door we only had time for a quick, "I'm so sorry!" before I had to run. I explained after class where I was and she was like, "Don't even worry about it. We were like, 'Where's The Gift?? She's not here, she's always here! And if she wasn't going to be here, her mom would've said so! But it's no problem, please, don't worry about it at all, she's fine.'" My goodness, they were worried. Hurried to get back to the car before I burst into tears again."

One of my friends commented on the first post, saying, " Great Job! You have been pruning her wings!" And I thought, no I'm not, LIFE is doing that to her. This is what happens when families go through intense challenges. The kids grow up, because they have to. For better or for worse. Usually for the better. For the second post, I was honestly surprised. I guess you never know how others perceive you until times like this. 

And so as our family continues down this very hard road, I open myself to Grace, even when it comes in the most unexpected ways.