Growing Pains

"Sometimes I just need my mom, OK?" - my son when he was sliding into my bed and woke me up around midnight.

Objection denied.  Snuggles it is. 

Which is just fine with me.  I love being that mom.  You know, the one that 30 years from now my kids still look forward to coming home to.  I took some benedryl and slept like a member of the Six Feet Under Club.  For systemic flair up purposes, not because I was drugging myself into a coma.  Friday night I got no sleep at all because the Universe thought I didn't need it.  After struggling to stay awake all day at work I napped for a bit and then took the boy to Pizza Hut for our monthly date.  Which during the entire dinner he complained about missing his sister.  "She just keeps our conversation flowing and she is funnier than I am.  Things just aren't the same without her here."  This time he actually wanted her to go and she just wanted to stay home.  They used to be inseperable and as much as they "complain" about each other they're still really close.

Then I dragged him to Goodwill to see about getting some more pants.  Seriously, he needs to stop growing.  He wears a men's small/medium athletic pant but they have to be hemmed.  Around Easter he woke up and fit into literally nothing in his closet overnight.  My mom did a 26 inch inseam and much to my chagrin trimmed the extra off so that they can't be let out.  Now he's a 30 inseam just over the summer from Easter to now and I have to buy more pants.  I'm not paying full price for pants that will be too short by Christmas.    And then his head grew, so he needed an adult size bike helmet and we had to go to Walmart to get one for his Scouting trip today. 

The kid is 12.

I'm amazed that I was practically unphased when his sister started taking my sneakers 3 years ago.  Something about the second (and last) child that kills you with every milestone.  And then there's the milestones they get individually because I have one of each.  I remember the time I bought my daughter her first deoderant.  I bawled like a baby in the middle of the store isle.  People looked at me weird until I explained what I was there for.  An elderly woman who understood hugged me.  My mom took her to get her first bra because I was a mess just knowing that she was at the point that she needed one. 

Physical therapy has been doing wonders for my knee.  I am going to start doing yoga in a couple of weeks after it strengthens back up.  Fibromyalgia sucks.  Knowing that this is something that I can consume myself with and give in to the near constant crappy feeling or keep busy and feel better is driving me to do better with my health.  I've had fewer crappy days in the past month than I did this summer which is nice.  The stress level being cut down at the knees would be nice.  Hear that Universe?  Any time now would be good.

Speaking of, previously mentioned near fatal health condition listed on my chart was put there by someone registering me for my procedure and was a fluke.  Even though the symptoms of said condition are actually my symptoms.  I'm beginning to hate the medical field in general. 

I am **finally** being referred to a surgeon for my Hiatal hernia, after of course fighting for years to get them to understand what is happening to me physically every time I eat anything.  It was found to have doubled in size and is the cause of 90% of  digestive issues and my doctor is certain that it's the cause of my near constant chest pain.  I understand EoE is something I'll have forever and it's not going to go away, but most of my troubles are from that stupid hernia. 

I'd like to feel at least almost human for a day.  I know that feeling totally human is way too much to ask for. 

I know that this flair was because I've been pushing myself too hard.  I should have called out of work yesterday instead of staying up.  I shouldn't have gone shopping last night and walked around for 3 hours like I did.  I could feel it coming before it even took over my body about halfway through Walmart.  But pushed I did.  I think I feel better than I would have if I hadn't taken anything and fought sleep for a second night, but my eyes were almost swollen shut when I woke up.  I feel like I'm walking through a sand pit with boulders in my pockets.  I have 3 alarms set for mornings that I have to work.  One for the time I get up if I want to look good, the one I have to get up for real and the time that I have to leave the house.  I woke up on the last alarm.  Thank Gods I cleaned my room so I can find things easily. 

I really dislike people sometimes.  Namely ones who meddle and watch.  Then they say things to "help" you when they might as well be saying "I want to high five you, but all I have is this bus".

And then there's still needing to put that stuff for Goodwill into my car and actually take it.  There's always that last 10% of projects that I struggle so much with to finish.  I'm always so worried that someone else that I immediately know could use it and I want to give it to them.  Oh well.