"Mommy, you're my best friend."
These sweet words from my two year old boy could not have come at a better moment.
I've been feeling pretty crappy the past week and a half. I think it's a combination of a nasty cold and a minor Behcets flare. Whatever it is, I've bailed out of more things than I can list and I struggle to get over the feeling that I'm a flake. There is a battle going on in my mind in addition to the one going on in my body. The battle is between believing what is true about who I am and feeling like what I do or don't do or what others think about me defines me. I lose this battle often and wind up feeling even worse.
On top of these deep issues of identity, I also feel bad about the kind of parent I am on these days. Today, for example, Wyatt and I did not leave the house. We watched gobs of PBS and a Curious George movie and only ventured outside to say hello to Fidel as he dumped our can into the garbage truck. We had smoothies for lunch and I let him hang out in his bed after nap for at least 30 minutes while I tried to peel myself out of my bed.
I don't want to feel guilty but still do. I want to be a mom taking my son on adventures, enjoying the beautiful day at the beach or climbing up a hill. I want to be doing fun projects together or even just eating ripe strawberries from our backyard. I want to not have the television on nearly all day and I hate the fight I know tomorrow will be as a result of Wyatt getting to watch so much today. I hate saying no to friends who want to get together because I can't imagine having a conversation and being a parent at the same time. And my house sorely needs a good, deep clean but I don't know when that will happen.
Tonight Garett stood over the mess of dishes in the sink and said, "I'm looking forward to you feeling better." What I heard was, "It's a disaster around here and we all pay a price when you're sick." Garett's not the kind of husband who needs a honey-do list in order to get things done around the house. He's the primary toilet cleaner, trash taker-outer and vacuumer so I don't think he's complaining when he says that. He's just acknowledging that it's hard on all of us when I'm sick and I couldn't agree more.
When Wyatt said, "Mommy, you're my best friend," tonight, my heart swelled and I tried to not assume he said that just because he got to watch TV all day.
You cannot believe how much joy this costume brings to Wyatt. Garett may or may not have spent five days building this garbage can which is a replica of ours. He assures me that it will be a toy for years and years to come.
