Skip to main content

Like a fly....

Trapped. Held. Stuck.

No possible way out no matter how I struggle.

I'm so tired of beating my wings against the immovable.

So exhausted, heart and soul.

Trapped.


****************************

And in other areas of my heart...
I was thinking tonight about a lot of things. I wonder if I'm doing enough or am I doing too much for Ashley? I talked to one of the moms at the hospital this week about the things she has her daughter doing. She's a right sided hemi just like Ashley and she's knitting and playing piano.

Knitting! She has made a couple of scarves and she is taking piano lessons from a teacher who has written one handed music for her to play.

I'm not doing enough. Not in those areas. I feel so inadequate. I feel like a failure. I'm failing her.

And then....am I doing too much for her in other areas? Helping her dress? Feeding her? I have had to do more in those areas since we began this difficult therapy but am I doing too much? Giving her too much help? Not making her work hard enough? Where do I draw the line?

There has been a fine line between allowing her to attempt things on her own and my desire to help her and make all things right for her.

I can never make all things right for her, no matter how hard I try, or cry or pray. I simply can't.

I can't.

How much do I push and how much do I step back and just let her struggle? Let her fight her way out of things?

I've often wished these little souls came with an instruction manual with a check list of things that I could cross off as I did them so I would know I was doing it right. And even when I think I've done it right...it's never turned out the way I hoped.

My heart just hurts tonight.

Comments

  1. Oh man...you'll always meet someone that will make you feel that way. I think you're doing a marvelous job, and she's a great girl. Don't let it get to you. Some people are simply always doing something more...it's enough to drive you crazy.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Go ahead....tell me the truth :)

Popular posts from this blog

Ahhhhhh

Ally and I just got back from the gym. I went every day last week and even though it's Spring break for the kids and me this week, I promised myself I wouldn't fall off the wagon. No, not that one. I've fallen off so many times I've got callouses and other assorted damages from hitting the ground. We'll see how this works out this time. One day at a time, right? I can't do more than I can do. Whoa, how profound is that? You're right. Not very. I'm fighting a cold right now---scratchy painful throat, ears that won't unplug and a heavy feeling in my chest that I fear does not bode well for the rest of the week. Not that we're taking a vacation. We'd love to of course, but what with times the way they are and the things we need to get done here, it simply wasn't an option. So what are we doing for our spectacular spring break? I'm glad you asked. We're cleaning! Yes, you heard right. And my kids (Ok, the younger ones at an...

Wheeeeeeee!

Today I was awakened to the not-so-delightful sounds of enormous dump trucks, (you know the ones that are a dump truck and they haul a trailer behind?) dumping truck load after truck load of dirt behind my house. Then the most incredibly noisey and squeaky (do they not grease the tracks on those things??) grader began shoving the dirt and rocks around. I had to fight the urge to throw a can of WD40 over the fence to the driver. It wasn't even eight in the morning. It wasn't even 7:30 yet. So I reluctantly arose from my bed and cleaned up the kitchen. After it was spotless, I went back upstairs to my freeze-zone (the only room in the house with AC) to do some online banking and make calls to check on medical bills, etc. As I was finishing up, in walks my husband! At first I had a moment of Oh-no-he's-lost-his-job terror. Then it passed after he smiled. Seems they ran out of work for the day. Odd, but then that's Boeing. So hubby was roped into going school cloth...

The Boy

Will Soon Be Graduating From High School This means, in some small measure, I have successfully managed to get him through 12 years of school and to the age of 18 alive. No small accomplishment, that. Today he called for a ride home after he rode the bus most of the way to our house. As it was about 90 degrees outside, I obliged. I'm a good mom, plus it got me out of a very hot house and into the sweet deliciousness of my air conditioned vehicle. My oldest and youngest daughters went along for the ride and they spotted The Boy before I did. "What's up with his pants?" Indeed. The operative word for his pants was up . He wears those extremely skinny jeans and he'd rolled them up to about knee level and he was walking towards us with a grimace on his face. He was in pain. You see, five hours earlier, in the throes of near heat exhaustion, he rolled the legs of his pants up and then his legs swelled up. He was unable to remove his own pants or roll down what he...