I had one of those days. You know the kind of days I’m talking about. Those days when you just can’t take one more thing going wrong. One more piece of bad news, one more ant in your kitchen, whatever. Sometimes when this happens I tell Mark I have to go to my sister’s. It is rare when I go to my sister’s because of a fight like you see couples say/do on tv. However, am I glad I have one of those sisters that I can just run to when I need. Thing is sometimes, again unlike tv, I cant just drop everything and drive up the nearly hour to her house. She works, I have 2 young children and right now we only have 1 car. More on that car thing in a minute. So what do I do? Most the time I just do what most Moms do, just take in stride. We do what we have to do because we have no choice. We have our children to take care of, they always come first. Although rare, there are times it still gets too much for even us Moms to take and we breakdown.

For some reason I think I have to be hard as nails when it comes to my Chiari. I am more often times angry than sad or depressed. When a doctor tells me that my spinal cord is permanently damaged I get mad instead of cry. I’m always nonchalant about how I am feeling, like it’s no big deal when really I would like to just crawl in my bed and have Mark hold me til I fall asleep. I’m like that with a lot of things. I know it’s not good to hold my gloomy emotions in but I don’t mean to do it on purpose. Also Mom’s just do that for their children, like I said before they come first so we take our problems and hold them in. I can minimize Chiari for the boys. I have to go to the hospital because of it, its no big deal. I can be the strong one so they don’t have to to be. There was no mistaking I was far from strong Tuesday, and maybe that was okay.

I was going on my 3rd day of a progressive migraine. This is where the migraine just stays with me the entire day and night, and instead of getting better it just gets worse. The trigger? The zoo. Now I was a little mad about this because I had taken the wheelchair even though as you all are aware now I hate the dang thing. However, I used it, the entire time, only getting out of it for bathroom breaks. The day wasn’t even that hot, so weather shouldn’t have been a trigger either. But I know it was the zoo because I was feeling horrible as soon as we started driving home and immediately took a 3 hour nap when we arrived, missing a family dinner. So there I was in nauseating pain on a Tuesday morning chasing my dog around the house so I could put some ear drops in his ear. I had finally cornered my 4-year-old German Shepherd and was trying my hardest to get the stupid drops that are more like goo in his stupid ear, but he was so much stronger than me. I finally got on top of him, put all my weight on his upper body, to put the damn medicine in his ear so I wouldn’t have to pay “a couple hundred dollars to put him out” so they could scope it.  That is when his front paw scratched me and he squirmed away. That was it. That was all I could take and I started bawling. It was not a pretty sight. I’m in basketball shorts and a Utah t-shirt, on my hands and knees sobbing like Id just lost a loved one. I didn’t care. I couldn’t hold it in anymore. I cried for the dumb dog not knowing I was just trying to help him, I cried for the already $100 I spent for the medicine I was giving him, I cried for not being able to take care of my dog when my husband could. I cried for not having my own car since June, and how every week it was something else wrong with Marks car and more money it was going to cost. I cried for my migraine and how I did everything right and I still got one, I cried for my pain pills not working anymore.  I cried for not having a yard I can play with my kids in. I cried for not feeling good enough to clean my own disaster of a house, and the fact that my kids have to live in this mess. I cried for not making dinner more. I cried for being stuck in a rut and not having more energy. I cried and cried and cried.

What I didn’t realize before then was being strong means being able to pick yourself up after something like that. Its being able to admit when you are defeated, then come back and try again. I was whooped that day, beaten, flat-out embarrassed. Sure everything is still the same but I needed to savor the loss just like you would savor a win. People talk about ‘Pity Parties’ and I do that all the time but I don’t think it works unless you really truly let yourself feel  the emotions and let them out. I learned a few other things this Tuesday, like be grateful for small miracles Such as my boys being to caught up in their own world to even notice Mommy is in the kitchen having a mental breakdown. 😉 I learned that crying can refresh your batteries almost as well as a couple hour break. That it’s harder to admit that you are having a hard time than pretend everything is fine. I also learned never to take on a German Shepherd, they will always win.

This is 'Blitz' being silly