Well, boys and girls, it's time for my oft repeated, least favorite activity - trying to determine what is eating me. When some people get upset or stressed, they take to bed, or shop, or drink. Me? I find myself on my knees - but not in a good way. I'm in the bottom of the pantry digging for remnants of chips or cookies. And then after a day - or three - or forty-three, I start to wonder, "Why am I eating all this junk?" Because I am just that self-aware. And you know what I determined today? It's Rich People Problems.
Originally published on Feb 4, 2013
Now, the fact that I have Rich People Problems is nothing new. My close friends and I gently hold each other accountable to some measure of gratitude by reminding each other when we are whining about Rich People Problems. The house is always messy - if you have a house, it's Rich People Problems. I can't seem to loose weight - too much food is Rich People Problems. I can't figure out this program on my brand new computer. RPP. What did occur to me today is that Rich People Problems bleed over into the area of my life labeled "special needs". You see, my mom friends that have typical children don't give me any flack for complaining about the ins and outs of having a medically fragile, special needs child. It doesn't give me permission to complain, mind you, but they can't relate, so I tend to get away with it. But if you have followed this so far, see if you can hang with me a little longer as I tie all these loose ends together.
During my introspective time, I decided that Shelby's impending back brace was weighing heavy on me. I am feeling a little sorry for myself because she has scoliosis on top of EVERYTHING else that she has to deal with. Now, here is a big admission: I am really not that worried about how she will handle the back brace. She is so easy going and has a high tolerance for discomfort. Either she will wear it or she won't. And the outcome will be up to God. One thing that has never faltered for me during her many ups and downs is my faith in God. I have never doubted that God will take care of her and that His will for her life will prevail. But that doesn't keep me from feeling sorry for myself and for the hassle it will be for me and my husband. (I may have to stop blogging because I'm not sounding too good here). So what is the bottom line? Rich People Problems. We have the insurance and other resources to have her fitted for a brace that could help her avoid major surgery. We have access to brilliant minds who will pain-stakingly measure her and create the device, and I'm worried about having to strap her in it every day? My message to myself? Get over it. If only it were that easy.
On to "problem" number two. We had an ARD meeting for Shelby last week to plan for next school year. The meeting went well. Too well (huh?). For the first time EVER, Shelby has not shown any regression in the course of the school year. First time EVER. Wow. This is huge. What could I possibly have to complain about? For the first time EVER, Shelby doesn't qualify for summer school. This scares me on so many levels. 12 weeks with no formal instruction? How could she not regress? 12 weeks of no scheduled breaks for me? 12 weeks without time to go to the grocery store or get my hair cut alone? Oh my word. Panic has set in. Panic over Rich People Problems. I live in a country that believes in educating people like Shelby. In some places she would be locked away, neglected and possibly abused. But Shelby goes to a great school. She has teachers and aides who adore her. They nurture her, teach her and love on her. And I'm complaining because she will have to take a break from that for a few weeks? RPP.
My goal for the rest of the day? (Yes, taking it one day at a time.) No more complaining. No more pity. And no more chips and cookies.