Cafe Mocha, Rich, and Perfect Snowman Snow Falling
It's a snow day. No school. I'm supposed to be at work, writing a very important report that will hopefully garner the family I am working with (who have 5 children, one of whom has severe autism) about $20,000/year so that they will be able to keep their sweet little wild boy at home. That is what I should be doing. I could have stuck my children in front of the TV and written the report though it wouldn't have been as cohesive as if I'd written it at work. What am I doing?? I am sitting in the local hippy coffee hangout writing on my laptop and my children are outside building a snowman with a babysitter. It is going to cost me $25 to blog today and it will cost me another $25 to write the report later. It's a very expensive snow day for me who makes almost no money. But I feel more present than I have all week, so it will be money well spent,
I didn't blog this week because the only topic I could come up with was, My Seratonin's Fallen and It Can't Get Up. Back to work this week all I could feel was how wrong it was for me to be there. Wrong for my mental health, wrong for my physical health and especially wrong for my family who I had LESS than nothing left to give by the time I got home. And I didn't enjoy my clients- wished they would take care of their own problems and leave me alone. Worse than that I wanted THEM to help me. I wanted SOMEONE, ANYONE to help me. Social work is not a job for the depressed. Usually work is like a tonic- it gets me right out of myself. There's nothing like the tragedy of someone else to remind you how very very lucky you are. My clients usually inspire me- they remind what is best and strongest in people. I am amazed at the love that people find in their hearts in the worst of situations. But this week I couldn't stop thinking about myself, my kids, my heart...
Speaking of which. I haven't had time/space to process this yet but the test that went very well Monday also showed heart disease in 2 locations. I am starting lipitor today and will be working with the cardiologist to decide whether to do a heart catheterization to determine the exact extent of disease. Bottom line is- lose weight, lower cholesterol, reduce stress,get more rest, exercise, exercise, exercise. Which would be a totally fabulous idea if only I could walk up a set of stairs without feeling in danger of cardiac arrest.
I am whining. Which is not helpful, and definitely not appealing. And I want you to read me so let's see... I am going to turn my life around. I am thinking positive, I am hopeful, optimistic, determined. I am going to do it. I am going to get my heart so healthy I will become the Heart Association's Poster Woman- the If-She-Can-Do-It-You-Can-Do-It-Too inpsiration. I will be running marathons before you can say "are you friggin' kidding?" I will manage to do something drastic- even miraculous- this time, that I couldn't do any of the countless other times I've been scared shitless about the state of my body. And I will do it not just because I don't want to leave my beloved children orphans but because I value my own dear life, my own fearfully and wonderfully made body, my very cells which hold the image of God. That would be a miracle: to truly believe even a fraction of any of what I just wrote.
For today the miracle is that I am here blogging. That blogging is worth $25 I don't have to me. That I am sitting in front of some of my very favorite chocolate cupcakes whose frosting I will not begin to describe because that seems as self-defeating as reminsiscing about the intimate details of really great sex when one is trying to keep a vow of chastitity. So I will just thank God for the miracle of a new sitter who just loves my little boy with Down Syndrome, for the perfect snowman they'd scultped by the time I backed out of the driveway and for his angelic little voice which slaughters everyone's names, giving them a semblance only of their last syllables. So that as I drove away Walker was standing next to his snowman- complete with wooden heart- waving his royal wave and shouting, "ankyou coming mommy. ankyou Rich play snow". Rich, is all he can get of his new sitters last name. It kept rolling off my tongue making me laugh, "ankyou Rich play snow"... Walker so often feels rich- rich in rain and snow, rich in music and his wild guitar strumming, rich in sloshing in our old mildewing bathtub shrieking, "Mommy- I swim, I swim!", rich in friends and family. Rich in the love of his very dearest 6 year old friend Sophie. (Mommy, I marry Soph today?" he asks every Sunday putting on his tie for Sunday School where he will get to see his true love). Walker is rich. And he reminds me (OK, especially when I'm driving away from him!!) that I am rich.
Thank you God for unexpected blessings. Like Walker. Like heart disease??
11:12:48 AM 
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