Halfway down the Danube

In sickness and in health

I think it was Laura from Apt. 11D who once commented on how challenging it is to be a mother and a patient at the same time (I hope I'm not misattributing here; in any case, Apt. 11D is always worth a look or two). When I still lived at home, it would puzzle me no end why my mother was not able to adhere to doctor's orders and stay in bed when she was running a 40/100 degree fever. She was feeling lousy, shaky, and horrible, but there was no keeping her from getting up at her usual time in the morning to prepare breakfast. I actually used to be quite indignant about this -- did she not trust me, at the age of 9, 13, 17, to work the coffee machine?

Now that I'm a mother myself, and on strict bedrest, I finally understand.

Doug is a wonderful father and he's well able to get the boys through a day without my help. However, he does do things differently than I and while I am able to cope with this when I'm out of the house (out of sight, out of ear-shot), I'm completely unable to deal with this when I'm in the same house.

It's not a question of not trusting him, it's a question of wanting to have things done my way. Over the years, I've worked out a way of dealing with the kid(s) and the household which minimizes my efforts. Like, I pick up things as I walk around and don't less them mass up. I find it much more time consuming to clean up a big mess than to bend down ten times in the course of an hour while I walk past. It's a habit I've developed but not one that Doug has. So, he lets the kids play to their hearts' content, strewing toys and kitchen cabinet contents all over the first floor -- living room, dining room, kitchen, pantry... after a while, it gets hard to walk without stepping on things.

I suppose I could just let it happen. I'm upstairs, I could just close my door. Also, since I'm on bedrest, I'm not expected to walk around, thus not being in any danger of stepping on things. Doug will eventually make Alan pick up everything. But am I able to do that? No. Why? I can't explain this any better than my mother was able to explain the coffee machine mystery to me.

Also, apart from strict bedrest being organisationally impossible (Doug being at work all day, I have to get up at some point and cook or my kids will starve, etc.), it's psychologically stressful. Lying in bed listening to one of the kids whine because Doug is paying attention/feeding/changing the diaper of the other kid, is really hard. It's much easier to ignore whining when you are the one paying attention to the other child.

All this can be summed up thusly: Advil is your friend.

Posted by claudia at March 17, 2004 09:46 AM