In the course of any given 24 hours I always pride myself in finding a balance in who I am be it mother or wife, daughter or daughter-in-law, or someone’s employee or friend, etc. I’m always “Jun”, but just like everyone else I’m a lot of other things to a lot of other people. If you were to make an actual list of things you are to someone else, today, it’d be longer than you think because it’s not something you necessarily think about consciously.
With little Noah down and out and all around chickenpox’d, he and everyone else in my current household are drained and feeling helpless.
There’s little worse than watching a baby suffer for the sake of immunization, or for any reason for that matter. I’ve been crying a lot these last few days, not heaving “I can’t breathe” tears but annoying leaky little “I feel so helpless” ones. I realize my tears are 90% exhaustion and 10% the natural drama queen in me, but 100% struggles in finding a balance.
I’m not ashamed to admit that this morning, after a few sleepless nights of caring for Noah’s aches and itches, I found myself struggling to find that balance between being a good mother and wife, and daughter too. Knowing full well I can’t do it “all”, I always want to do it all and well.
With my mother visiting, I’m both relieved and remorseful about this last week. I am grateful for her loving heart and extra set of helping hands, but I feel bad that my mother’s been relegated to staying in and playing nurse and maid during her trip. She, of course, would rather be caring for little Noah than seeing sights and touring old Europe. But I can’t help but feel guilty that this trip isn’t more of a vacation for her, and that last night I snapped at her.
Davy and I had been up for two hours trying to comfort Noah, and when my mother came to check in on all the fuss at 3am I was harsh with her. I apologized to her today and she answered, “I know.” Those two little words touched my heart.
“Don’t worry for me, you taking good care of Noah,” she said, “and don’t forgetting having sex with Davy.”
And she told me how I should never stop being a wife to Davy, no matter how sick Noah was, and that I had done the right thing accompanying him to his laser surgery yesterday leaving Noah at home with her. My mother then told me how proud she was of me for being so “capable” of so many things she didn’t think she could ever do, and how my father must be so proud watching over me. And she said this all with a straight face while fat tears rolled down my face.
So then I told her sex was something Davy and I did not ever forget to have and that we had a quickie earlier, in the garage just for fun, while she was upstairs playing with Noah.
“Good. See? Everything good.” she answered.
And in that moment, everything became good and I felt a sense of balance all over again. But I can’t promise I won’t be a hormonal hot mess all over again tomorrow.