Wanting to simultaneously cry, bang your head against the wall and have a panic attack: motherhood in a nutshell.
Oh, and love, pride and joy, too.
And I'm not just talking about when your toddler eats rocks despite your adamant protest, climbs on the tables repeatedly and refuses to leave the mall peacefully. We're, quite thankfully (no really, thank you Jesus) over the toddler stage, but even though Caroline can tie her own shoes, brush her own teeth and doesn't eat rocks anymore ( I think), in instances such as these feverish times, I still feel like crying and banging my head against the wall.
I always feel on the verge of a panic attack, so that's nothing new.
In case you haven't guessed, Caroline is still sick with the same cycle of cool in the morning/ hot in afternoon/evening feverishness. Two trips to the doctor have yielded the same diagnosis: 'it's a virus.'
I really hate those words.
I've witnessed and cared for Caroline through every illness she's ever had. I know that she doesn't typically get 'just a virus.' Lengthy fevers, usually without other symptoms, always end up being some sort of crazy infection. Unfortunately, mother's intuition doesn't come with an MD, so my input is useless.
I'm taking her back to the doctor tomorrow and fully intend on being a pest. I don't like to be a pest; in fact, I generally dislike when others are pests, but I've reached my near breaking point.
Missing school hasn't phased Caroline one bit; her teachers aren't concerned about it either. She's a capable student and can easily catch up. However, I can't help but feel horrible every morning when I send an email to the attendance secretary informing her that Caroline won't be in school again. And no, not because that means I can't go to the gym.
It's not my fault she's sick. I haven't done anything to make her sick and I clearly can't do anything to make her well, but I still feel like a big fat failure. That part will never make sense; I think it's a mom thing. Or perhaps, it's just a Crazy Alison thing?
I don't know.
Stupid mom guilt.
To further add to the guilt, I have a race on Saturday. A race I'm so excited to run; a race I paid $85 to run. I find myself thinking 'please get well Caroline so I can run.' It's selfish and very unmother-like. Or, at least what I presume would be unmother-like
But it's true.
Stupid mom guilt.
But really, what more would you expect from me?
Selfish, guilt ridden and panicky: Alison in a nutshell. ;)