Last month, I had my final wisdom tooth removed. The procedure also included a bone graph and an abutment. During the consultation, the oral surgeon offered me the option of getting knocked out, but I chose to not only remain awake but only to receive Novocaine so I could drive myself back and forth. That afternoon, while trying my best to get through the discomfort, I explained to Mike that doing this made me feel pretty badass.
This part of the quarantine seems more challenging than the original round. Liam has no interest in going for walks. When cases were declining, he was able to play baseball and tennis. His school is trying its best to remain in-person, but positive cases in his class have him quarantining, which removes the routine he needs to thrive.
He’s done with this but trying his best. He’s putting so much pressure on himself to get perfect grades. In trying to wrap my finger around why this is his new obsession, it reminds me of my go-to method of dealing with stress: cleaning. Both are ways of controlling our environment. Despite always telling him that we want him to try his best, he has been putting so much pressure on himself, asking multiple times if we are disappointed if he earns below an “A.” I keep reminding him that his goal for this year is to get through it.
In the meantime, I feel like I am barely treading water. My knee is progressing, but I keep having moments of overdoing it and not doing enough. When I can practice yoga and go for two-mile walks a few times a week, it feels almost fine. Being up five to eight pounds- a result of not running juxtaposed with being on a soft-food diet while my mouth heals- is not helping my knee. After weeks of ten to twelve-hour days, I’ve made myself back away from school and search for a sense of balance between home and work.
The afternoon of my appointment with the oral surgeon, Liam brought me a small Post-It note. AS he handed it to me, he explained, “I know I’m not supposed to say it, but I think you are.”
This is the note he gave me:
When I feel like I’m failing at everything, I think about the fact that Liam believes I’m doing okay. When Liam feels like he is failing, I remind him that our current goal is to get through. I may not feel like a “Bad Ass Brave Mom.” I’ve been up since 2:30 am. I couldn’t tell you the last time that I did my hair. I never made it to the grocery store last week, which led to us eating chicken nuggets, ramen, and cereal more times than I would normally admit. But we finally finished The Good Place, I ran for the first time in ten weeks, and I played catch with Liam every afternoon this week. To Liam, that is pretty badass.