A Birthday, School, and Immobility

"How you feelin' this morning?" My reply: LIKE CRAP! But it's a beautiful Sunday morning. A day the Lord has made! And we should be greatful and REJOICE in it. Amen.

It was August 15th 2010 to be exact. With soooo much to do, remember? It was my youngest son's 7th birthday. And although I hardly if ever journey into their room to wake them anymore - my precious Abe had asked me last night to wake him up very first thing on his birthday. "Mommy, pleeeeaaaase!" he said. How could I not?

So even before Jason's alarm went off, I sit up on the edge of my bed to collect myself. Now where had that balance ran off to? Could he be hiding under my bed? Had him and the strength in my legs gone on a permanent vacation? Whether or not they are to ever return, their absence this day must be overcome. "God give me strength," I prayed.

Before attempting to stand, I survey the room to get my bearings. Although the windows were covered with shades and semi-shear brown curtains I could tell the sun was already up and hard at it because although the walls remained white the deep chocolate brown bed cover and dark cherry furniture that filled the room made the master bedroom easily the darkest in the house until about 8 o'clock AM these days. Thus, I'd better get a move on if we were to make it to church. "God give me speed," I prayed.

To my feet and nearly stable I call out to Jason before I set out on my journey. First, should I fall I wanted him awake to hear my cries for help. And second, I needed him desperately if this train were to have any chance of leaving the station on time. "It's time to wake up darlin'," I'd said. I imagine he may have woke long enuff to see me standing and talking sweetly only to return to sleep thinking it had all been a dream. No way, no how his wife would be standing, walking, and speaking sweetly.

First to the foot of the bed, then hands to the tall dresser and once somewhat steady my legs slowly, carefully follow. Then the door frame, the hall, turn the corner and any suspision I'd had about the sun being up were settled loud and clear. Even before I reached the always opened door the bright orange color from their walls met me smack in the face. The sun projected the vivid orange across the white hall walls and cream colored carpet. 'How could they still be asleep in all this light?' I wondered.

Although this room is officially Abe's - since it is the largest of the others both boys share it for sleeping purposes thus far. And I know I spoke of them being spoiled earlier . . . each of them sleeps atop their own set of bunk beds. Asa's has a full bed on bottom and Abe's did have at one point but has been removed to allow for more room to play. A fabulous idea by the way should your kiddo wanna tent or fort or dungeon or whatever.

Slowing a bit to give the 'ol pupils a better chance to adjust to the light I find myself grasping the tall dresser at the head of Abel's bed nearly nose to nose with Goldie the gold fish. Aside from the sunlight bursting thru the blinds there was a light heating the fish tank atop one dresser, a light from the television left on atop te other, and a bed side stop light lamp to boot. I mean what brightly decorated boys' bedroom with a traffic signs motif would ever be complete without one of those? C'mon, right?!

As ridiculous as an extra light sounded at this juncture, in the complete dark of night it does serve it's purpose showing their Daddy the way amongst the dirty clothes and toys scattered about the floor. Most helpful indeed in the prayer saying and good night kiss having bedtime rituals. I miss out on that stuff these days too. Really sux! Luckily though we have managed to change up our routine a bit. Now before they make their nightly climbs they swing by my room to kiss and hug me good night. And some of the time Asa even sneeks me up a snack. That's my boy!

A complete disregard of the rules as I prolly shouldn't be eating in bed, but he loves his Mama and she loves her snacks! Now to disregarding the stop signs and yield signs and CAUTIONS, I trudged forward feeling first along the wall, then dresser and finally to the top bunk where he had barricaded himself behind a mound of pillows. Wonder what on earth he had been protecting himself from? And even more mind boggling was how he'd gotten a hold of that many pillows? I didn't think we owned that many pillows?! Had he raided Aunt Jean's hotel? A mystery, for sure!

Finally, I reach the well-lit, pillow hoarding, fort building birthday boy. He awakens easily, and excited. Surprised to see me, the brightness in his gorgeous green eyes brightens the room even further. (Note to self: Next trip wear sungleasses!) He immediately asks, "Is it my birthday?" And holding tight to the upper bunk's railing I reply, "It sure is!" whilst reminding God of my prayer for strength and adding an addendum to said prayer - Also grant this bed and/or whatever other furniture I might later need to 'rest' upon strength to hold me up! Can I get an amen? All addendums need amens to work. You didn't know?

So next he gets to his knees and lifts both arms asking for a hug. Shouldn't be a problem. Didn't used to be a problem. Would it be a problem? And we hug. Such a tight sweet hug! I loved it. Standing free of all support but only my 7 year olds love and hug. A birthday miracle! And then letting go he asks for help down. Yikes! Used to I'd just reach up, take him under the arms and turn to place him gently on the floor. Hmmm . . .

Nope. Couldn't risk it. Not even 50 lbs. yet I should still be able to do it but didn't wanna risk injuring him or myself. I declined by telling him how big he'd got since the last time I'd done it. Still appearing unconvinced I grasped the railing for support again and continued, "but you're 7 now. You don't need Mommy's help." Still he looked perplexed. That little booger could see right thru me. He raised an eyebrow and commenced to a solo descent. I even offered to get Daddy in there as he explained to me it wasn't that he needed help. He rationed, "It's just for fun, Mom."

Had I just gone from Mommy to Mom in that dialog? Time flies I tell ya. No more story tellin' for me I guess. Next time I just lay out the facts: "Well baby cakes you are lucky I am in here at all. I feel as tho I'm about to fall and am already wondering how the heck I'm gonna make it out of your room let alone down thestairs and to church. MS sux, my man. Just plain sux. And I'm sorry. As bad as it sux for you that I can't swing ya down from bed like I used to, just know it sux a bazillion more times for me. There's so much more things I wanna do with you.

I wanna wake you up every morning. I wanna make you breakfast. And not just the quickie kind in the wrapper or cereal. I wanna fry eggs. Bacon. Make pancakes. Maybe french toast. I wanna see you off on the bus or better yet, even drive you there myself. I miss drivin'. I miss my car. I wanna be a room mother at school. Throw parties for your class. And help out where needed. I aced a children's literature class in college and would love to take part in some interactive story times. Heck, I'd even like to volunteer a day or two a week to help out with recess duty. That'd be cool, heh?

Why not everyday then? Well, I got alot of stuff needs doin' at home too. I wanna keep the house clean including the dishes and clothes. Daddy should never have to wash a dish again. And you guys . . . why should you guys have to waste your afternoons home from school pickin' up the living room? I don't got nuthin' to do all day, right? I could do it. I wanna do it, but CAN'T because of this darned MS. Sux! I wanna have lunch fixed for Daddy when he gets home. Or when he wants to go out he should be able to without worrying about poor 'ol mama.

He should play golf or go out or whatever and not have to come home to feed me and let out the dog. Silly really I can't perform those two little remedial easy peasy lemon squeezy tasks. And when you two arrive home from school I should have snacks and an afternoon activity ready to go. Time for homework should be set aside and I should be able to help. Fourth grade story problems shouldn't overwhelm me like they do. I used to be an honor student for pete's sake.

I pray, pray, pray each and every day that you two don't get this horrible disease. It sux not only for me. I know that. I get that. It sux for everyone I love too. So more to do after school? Screw the bus, let's say I come and get ya. I'd love to ya know? I might even bring Gooch along. Wanna get involved in any after school programs? I used to play basketball and volleyball, but I used to could throw a mean spiral too. And my cousin who used to rock at soccer showed me how to dribble thru cones.

Or, I know, horses! Why don't we start showin' horses? Anything you guys want. I want for you. And I wanna be a part of. An active helper. Coach. Assistant coach. Chaperoene. Driver. Whatever. I wanna Super Mom tights and cape. No mask neccesary as I want everyone to know my true identity. And really that's who I am. I AM SUPER MOM!!! I'm just trapped inside this body that no longer cooperates with me. She sure used to though. Damn! I'm sorry I cussed little man. I'm trying to stop, but you know that.

So after our afternoon activities whilst you all veg in front of the tv, I wanna fix supper. Yes me in the kitchen - all alone. Well maybe Gooch can come keep me company, but NO helpers needed. I know you wondering, 'can mom cook?' and as a matter of fact YES I CAN! I just so happen to come from a long line of cookers and am fairly confident I could do a fine job if I were able to stand, walk and tolerate the heat from the stove and or oven. From time to time I can churn out a delicious lasagna or casserole or cake, remember?

I think Daddy can vouch for me on this one. Waaay back when we lived in the apartment I used to have supper fixed for him. Me, yes. I used to fix supper. Mashed potatoes, peas, pork chops, etc. I'm not a one trick pony. I promise. Really. When I am capable of doing -- I do! That being said my dear birthday boy, I don't think I am capable of lifting you from the top bunk and safely placing you on the ground. PLEASE FORGIVE ME!!!"

That was quite a rant, am I right? Prolly a bit much for my 7 year old to swallow so early in the morning, if at all. Alas my saying whatever white little lie it was I'd said was much more fitting of the situation. Plus had I climbed upon that soap box we surely would have missed church. First because of the time the speech would have taken. And last and more realistically -- no doubt I would have fallen from said box and been unable to make it anywhere but the emergency room. Huh! Just sayin' . . .

Next order of business then was makin' it over to the big man's bunk. Option 1: continue to follow the furniture and walls back around to his bed. Geesh, this room is huge! Or, option 2: turn supporting yourself with Abe's rail and bravely make the one huge unsupported step it would take to reach Asa's rail. Yikes, right?! Or finally, option 3: just scream!

And can you guess which option Super Mom trapped in an uncooperative body chose? "Hey, Goose! It's time to get up!" she belted with gusto. Or not. Maybe I just raised my voice a little, but either way all of the birthday boy's commotion had already caused the big man to be wrestling about with his comforter. Dun, da, duhn, would it be the big man or the blanket who prevails? And both the kiddos were on their way down the hall to their bathroom as their Daddy emerged stunned from his room.

I wish I could have greeted him with a confident hand to his chest and say, "I got this!" Ha! Instead I reached out to him for assistance down the hall. (Note to self: Lose some damn weight lard ass, and maybe your hubby could just throw you over his shoulder and carry you around!) Once downstairs it all started coming together. Bippedy, boppity, boo! And we were out the door. Had the fairy godmother mistaken our house for Cinderella's? She was gettin' up there in years. It could happen.

As always, sunday school was great. Abel and Jason had even gone up front before service to be recognized for having birthdays. The entire congregation sang our church's birthday song to them. Me and Asa hands down sang the loudest. Then when it came time for church Jason and the boys headed home whilst I was left in the capable hands of Aunt Ann. Yes, I absolutely should have went home too since the cake still needed iced and decorated, BUT the Lord had a stronger hold of me. I wanted to stay. I needed to stay.

And I'm so glad I did. Sharon sang. Oh my. One of her regulars about 'no more sorrow, no more pain . . .' -- a tear jerker if there ever was one. Gets me everytime! And then one I'd never heard , or at least don't remember hearing. Wow! I didn't know whether to hug my sis sitting next to me or crawl over the pew to curl up next to Aunt Ann. It was about loved ones over there. My tear filled eyes looked back to meet Aunt Ann's tear filled eyes and I reached back for her kleenex clinched hand. Woe is me.

And the message, as always, spot on! Did I wanna re-join my loved ones in heaven? Well, duh Uncle Scott! I sure did. And what did I need to do to get there? An alter call. I wanna go! I always wanna go. But can I? Prolly best I stay sittin'. Maybe rest my head on the pew in front of me and just say a few words from there. A wise man (yeh, my Uncle Scott) once told me you can let the Lord into your heart absolutely anywhere you are! AMEN!

So on our way out to the car two different gentlemen of the church ask if they can assist us lovely ladies in any way. Why, sure, please, and thank you kind sirs! They folded my walker and placed it carefully in Aunt Ann's trunk. And then made sure I was in and comfortable before closing my door. Sweet, I tell ya! The only things missing were the red carpet and the paparazzi. And maybe some more elegant shoes than my ratty 'ol Pumas, but you can't really see 'em for my walker anyways.

So we go to Dean's for lunch. We, of course, meaning: Granny and Papaw (both mine and the boys'), Amelia and kiddos, Aunt Ann, and me and my three hunks. How'd I ever luck into such a gorgeous crew? I'm blessed. As crappy as I may feel and as down as I get . . . bottom line is I AM BLESSED!!! And days like August 15th 2010 are great shining examples of just how! Thank You Jesus for all You are doing in my life. For all You have done and for all You will do. Amen.

Examples, you ask? Well, here ya go: All of us together. My Mom joined us all after at our house. Celebrating a birthday. Cake that was iced and decorated just in the nick of time. Abe actually recognizing the free-handed drawing of the Pokemon character he'd asked for. (I'll post a pic later. I'm a wee bit proud even surprising myself with how it turned out!) All the presents and the presence.

And whilst trying not to sound too much like a mastercard commercial, having enuff energy afterwards to pick -up a bit and make it upstairs to bed - PRICELESS! OK, I admit it. I was hoping to sound like a mastercard commercial. Waaay better than the vikings yelling, "What's in your wallet?" Anyways, back to Sunday. We game and eat candy like gaming candy fiends. Then shower. Then go to bed. It had been a big weekend and a big day. And guess what readers? An even bigger day lurked.

"Wakey, wakey. Eggs and bakey!" Wait for it. Wait for it. "NOT!" It's time for school, turkeys! How's about a doughnut? Hustle, hustle, hustle! Bing, bang, boom. A whine here and a protest there. The screeching brakes of the bus and they were gone. Silence! What's a girl to do but snuggle with her pit bull? Poor guy awoke from several different naps that day to look around the house for the boys. Silly puppy! Could he have missed 'em as much as me?

When would 3 o'clock ever get here? "Six whole hours, Mom," Abel would remind me. He calls me Mom now. Bizarro! Anywho I told him it'd go by in a flash. Had I lied to him again? The day was creepin' along as slow as molasses. Another analogy? As slow as me! Ha! Now that's funny! But would I still be laughing at 3? Tick tock. Tick tock. Was that the bus I'd heard?

More next time on the first days and weeks of 1st and 4th grade. And guess who's playin' football? Hmmmmm . . . well, it ain't me!