July 21, 2014
The Little Things
I am, as they say, just a tad overwhelmed.
I always promised myself I’d “tell it like it is” here, and I’m doing so today. We’re into week six of summer chez McCafferty, and both kids have been experiencing some rather daunting issues. Justin’s stomach has been plaguing him off and on for over a month, forcing us to consider diet changes and reinstitute scheduled potty breaks we haven’t had to do for years. We’ve also had to witness tremors that aren’t seizure-related halt him in mid-stride, which are agonizing to watch. His “people” are on the situation, and we’re exploring med changes and have had tests done to see if we can figure out what’s going on.
The truth is sometimes he’s suffering, and I hate it.
After a six-week stretch with Zach this spring that made me eternally grateful for the invention of wine we finally struck gold with a new medication, only to have it render him an insomniac and throw us back to the drawing board, which is where we now dwell. Considering how boring I am in my need to sleep more than a few hours a night things have been challenging (and mommy has been very, very grumpy.)
And yet, it’s the little things that get me through.
In the midst of the chaos there is this. My youngest son completed two weeks of acting camp with only one brief meltdown, enabling him to perform as a dinosaur, a dad, a cat and a “guido” respectively to a deeply appreciative audience. He crawled into a hotel bed with my mom after their flight to Kentucky had been cancelled, and told her “it doesn’t get better than this,” accepting the drastic change in their itinerary with ease.
He’s mad at me if I don’t schedule multiple playdates for him a week.
Yesterday my eldest son got spruced up in his “fancy clothes” and performed in a horseback riding show with the air of an old pro, which was fabulous in and of itself. Even more wonderful was the huge smile breaking out on his face as my mom and step-mom pulled into the space next to us, and his obvious pride afterwards as he gently held up his ribbon and beamed into the camera. At our celebratory trip to Great Adventure afterwards he made it through a rainstorm and a twenty-five minute wait for a burger (just two more minutes Ma’am, really) with nary a complaint.
He kisses me at least a dozen times a day for no reason.
It’s so easy to get completely bogged down by the big things, the ones that claim a hold on your heart with a grip like a vise that will never let go. I get tangled up in the detritus of their need, enmeshed in their suffering, and at times I lose the light.
But if I remember to look, there is almost always the light.
Sometimes it’s big and messy and glorious.
Sometimes it’s in the little things, the ones that tap gently on your shoulder that can be so easily missed.
I am so grateful there is still light here.
Grateful, as always, for the little things.