May 6, 2010

Foibles of Motherhood

Hi readers! This is the latest post in the series of wanting to hear more from you. Meet Amanda, a friend of mine I've known since middle school. (And considering the ugly duckling stage of life that is middle school, that's all I'll say on that subject). She's been struggling with an injury lately, and is here to talk about the good and bad of it. Take it away Amanda!

I love my son. He is the center of my world. I feel a little guilty admitting this, but my hubby has taken a bit of a (hopefully temporary) back seat in my heart to this little bundle of giggles. Any mom out there will be nodding her head in agreement. It happens to all of us at one time or another.

I love fútbol (soccer, for all you Americans). It is a big part of my world. I have a passion for this exhilarating sport; if I had a shirt made, it would say “F-Ú-T-B-O-L is my yoga.” It is my time to be free, to sync my mental, physical, and emotional simply EXIST. As much as I love my son, I cannot wait to get back on the field and get reacquainted with myself.

Spring has arrived, and two games into the first glorious season back with my team, I'm out for the remainder with a baffling injury. (Torn Achilles tendon, if you're curious. The summer prior to 'making a baby' I played for 7 teams. IN THE SAME SEASON. Running upwards of 20 miles, 7-10 games a week. Didn't even get nicked).

Now, fate has stripped me of both of these great loves. I will not be able to play again until the fall. My immobility is keeping me from being a mother to my child ::insert movie clip of melting Wicked Witch:: "what a world, what a world!" I've been brutally (and unfairly, might I add) removed from the day to day workings of my own life. My husband is trying to attain 'superdad' status; feeding, bathing, and caring for our son, washing dishes and laundry, cooking and sort of kind of cleaning, and attending to my major needs. (I prefer to take care of the minor ones myself). He is looking listless and rundown more often than not.

I have been lying relatively helpless on the sofa in the living room for the better part of the last few weeks. My baby has been reduced to tubs of Gerber and jars of Earth's Best, cans of Similac Advanced, and wearing the same pants three times a week. I get to cuddle him when he gets home from daycare, at least until he's bored of sitting on the couch; then he's whisked away for dinner, a bath, a bottle, and bedtime. (We live in a two-level townhouse - the evening routine is not much of an option for me).

I've had a lot of time to reflect on my current situation, and I've come to three very important conclusions:
1. Life is less like a box of chocolate, and more like a full box of Frosted Flakes with a corner of milk left in the carton because your husband is on a waffle kick.
2. If at first you don't succeed, think long and hard about how much it'll hurt to hop up the stairs again.
3. There is no substitute for friends, especially the kind that comes to pick you up just to see there's no way you're ready to leave the house and instead of getting mad they have sushi delivered to eat in, their treat.
Amanda's son - isn't he adorable?

What do you think dear readers? When was the last time you were laid low? Can you recall a time when you had to rely on someone else to help you make it through the day? Do you have a friend that would come to your rescue, even if it meant sitting on the couch and watching corny movies with you? Be sure to check out Amanda's blog!


Lisa from Lisa's Yarns said...

I hope she recovers from her injury soon - how frustrating. I have not been completely laid up for quite a long time. I had some knee trouble this winter but the injury seems to have gone away (knocking on wood and hoping by saying that I haven't jinxed myself).

I have been really sick a few times, though, and I am kind of on my own. I think if I asked my best friend to help out, she totally would, but I am not very good about asking for help. So I usually lay in bed in my condo when I am ill and wallow over the fact that I don't have anyone to go buy gatorade for me. Then I stop feeling sorry for myself and go buy my own gatorade. Again - if I asked my friend to go buy me gatorade, she totally would! Because I would do the same for her!

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