Its minus fifteen and you lost your hockey game and the graters blocked the driveway to the Brown Jug with a three foot pile of snow so you have to pull an illegal u-turn with your cans of Pabst (b/c you are cutting expenses and Anchorage stopped recycling glass) and when you finally make it home, as you struggle to plug in your Subaru, with your felted wool mittens, you think, what a perfect ending to a Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day.
Your Mom says some days are like that, even in Australia, where the days are long and you don't have to wear three to four layers of clothes just to walk out the door.
Most Alaskans, even those of us who moved here for the snow, fall down at least once mid-winter and find ourselves raging against the thermometer as we long for the ease of sandals in grass. We dream in every shade of green as we trudge through white and grey. We question our sanity as days pass with air so cold it never reaches above zero. The sun taunts us with its brilliance but doesn't warm us with its presence. We hunger for the heat of clouds.
You don't really want to move to Australia, but you do want respite from the icicles that surround your heart. From the fear that no matter what you do for your son it will never be enough. Or it will be too much. That you can't enter into his world and he can't join yours so you will always be communicating from different poles. You expect him to understand North when he needs you to step into South.
And as much as you love him, you are not of him; and a thousand appointments with specialists can leave you knowing nothing. You force him to be still, to wait, as the the Dr. looks at his chart, but even you have forgotten what he is looking for. You want to do nothing and you want to do everything. You want to say yes to every suggestion from every therapist but if you were to implement every request you would run out of breath.
And you just want to breathe.
And so you write because you know you are not alone. You know that all over the world there are people having Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Days. Far worse than yours and better.
Even in Australia.
I find that a nice cocktail helps turn the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Days in semi-terrible not as bad as I thought kinda bad days. Mostly b/c that cocktail helps me sleep better and then it's the next day that hopefully won't be as terrible horrible. Cheers!
Posted by: Brooke | 01/19/2012 at 06:36 PM
I agree with Brooke. get a nice bottle of wine and a good book and curl up beside Nick on the couch.
Also: You are doing enough. You are helping enough. And...you DO visit each other's worlds now and again, I have seen it happen in stories and photos. And you will be okay.
And don't forget to write.
Hug.
Posted by: danielle in zurich | 01/20/2012 at 01:31 AM
You are saner than most Christy and if the winters in Alaska didn't bother you at all, I'd be worried. I know it is hard to stay awake past your kids these days but when Elias fall asleep tonight, look at him. Breathe him in and even rest your hand on him if it won't wake him. You may just feel that you are in the same worlds after all. Then have that glass of wine!
Posted by: fleming | 01/20/2012 at 08:58 AM
Beautiful comment Fleming. You are a great friend to Christy. Hope all is well.
Posted by: Mom | 01/20/2012 at 11:24 AM
Have you ever considered moving? :) I live in Chicago and can barely stand the winters here!
Posted by: Kristine | 01/20/2012 at 02:29 PM
Wow! Are those Fahrenheits? I am an impressed Canadian! Down here (!!) the days are getting longer, it does give us a boost. I don't know much either, but Elias is your life companion so all therapies must be aimed at making him a good one...
Posted by: Ellie | 01/20/2012 at 06:16 PM
De-lurking to assure you that we do have some terrible no good days in Australia even though we never need four layers of clothes :-) Your blog is inspiring and I appreciate the honesty of your writing as you share both the victories and the struggles of your parenthood journey.
Posted by: Michelle | 01/20/2012 at 08:09 PM
Michelle thank you for de-lurking and for appreciating my honesty. Sometimes I feel bad about my hard day posts, as if I'm suppose to be more inspiring and "feel-good" all the time and yet I personally feel better after writing about the hard shit. Especially when my readers respond. Ellie, yes, F not C, it was -17 when i woke up this morning. It hasn't risen above zero for a week. After two days of indoor recess we started letting the kids outside for just ten minutes, even at -11, just to get some energy out, but we are all feeling a little bit of cabin fever, especially b/c we have so much beautiful snow to play in but need the temps to warm up a bit to enjoy it. And I love the "life companion" comment, so true. Kristine, every Jan or Feb or consider moving and then March comes with our 12 hour days and skiing and sunshine and I fall in love with Alaska all over again. Flem, i read your comment at work and you made me cry and I had to pull myself together to go out to recess and then I read it again in the afternoon and again tonight and thank you is all I can say. And love you friend. Danielle, Nick and I shared a bottle of wine last night, just like you suggested, and we talked and vented and planned and yes, i felt better afterwards. Thank you for seeing our cross-world connection in my stories and pictures. Sometimes I need to be reminded. And Brooke, that evening beverage always helps, as much as i love my children I long for them to go to bed at night so I can be an adult before we start it all over again. I raise my glass to all of you and wish you a happy Friday.
Posted by: Christy | 01/20/2012 at 09:17 PM