I have spent most of the past couple of weeks fluctuating between moments of mild insanity then counting my blessings. Trying to help Molly in her twin casts, trying to make sense of it all again.
So pretty normal for my world.
The casts on Molly’s feet aren’t working. She still complains of pain, Calpol and his buddy Ibuprofen don’t seem to touch the sides. The consultant is puzzled. There is no plan B.
Unless it isn’t Severs.
We have been referred to rheumatology for tests. I started to look at Google but to be honest when the phrases chronic and ongoing pain started to reoccur down the search string, I lost my temper and slammed the lid down.
I simply cannot be arsed with this anymore. I don’t want to look for what *may* be our future.
I thought about crying for a moment, but then the kids started squabbling behind me and I forgot about their woes.
Later that evening I started to write a blog post in my head. It was all a bit depressing. So I decided to pick Play Doh out of the carpet for a while until I could fix the tone and focus on something a little less needy.
Play Doh picking is remarkably therapeutic.
For those wondering how to manage this feat, first, you need to smash Play Doh into the ground with the force of a pre schooler and stamp on it with little feet. Repeatedly.
Then leave it to dry for at least a day; in our case a month.
Then grab a knife, one you use to spread butter, or stir tea in absence of a spoon will do just fine.
Bend over on the floor, lift your rump to the sky and start to flick coloured lumps out of the coloured pile.
It takes forever, creating lots of time to muse over things.
When I had removed the yellow and was about to take on the green I had found my inner calm. By the time green was no longer embedded in my rug I had found my happy.
Its not always easy being us. Molly’s diabetes scares the shit out of me daily, and I fret about my smallest based on all her medical ails. But we have all survived 3 months with a baby in a cast, we manage diabetes daily. Although we seem to visit hospital more than many we know all the best places to park. Silver lining in every cloud as they say.
It ain’t that bad really.
And the kids take it all in their stride and we can learn a lot from them.
Molly placed her casted legs in my lap last night, placing her much loved crutches to one side.
“Well mum,” she said, “I’ll certainly appreciate trousers and swimming again after four weeks in cast.”
“And when I walk I will feel as light as feather – won’t that be cool.”
Monty Python would probably be as proud of her as I am.