A New Normal.

Sometimes I wish parenting came with a handbook. So I could use it to whack my kids over the head. Just kidding.


It would be nice to have special chapters to turn to when you are in a pinch. There have been many times I would like the "how to respond when your child says something humiliating in public because she is brutally blunt" chapter. Or the "how to fix the toilet when your kid poops a pea-sized turd and follows it up with an entire roll of toilet paper" chapter.


Ahem.


But what I would've really liked to read in the last year is the "how to cope with having a chronically-ill child" chapter. Its really too bad that handbook doesn't exist. However... you are in luck. Because I have learned a few things the very hard way... and am willing to share them for a small fortune. Or free to anyone who still reads my blog (I see that hand, thank you sir.)


1. The single most-important thing I have learned is that you just have to accept that this is the new normal. I spent a lot of time trying to "fix" things and make things return to how they should be, or what I wanted them to be. And it ain't workin'. So take it from me, sister, life is so much easier when you just accept that this is the way things are. So what if the hospital nurses know you and your entire family by first name and your pediatrician is your friend on facebook? Its the new normal. Who cares if when you travel its usually to a hospital? This is the new normal. You carry a whole host of medical supplies in your diaper bag just in case? Its the new normal. You talk to therapists more than your friends? This is the new normal. You have to cancel things, miss church, and never get to exercise because your child is always sick or hospitalized? Its the new normal. This is how things are now...healing doesn't always mean things going back to how they were... sometimes it means getting through the messy parts of life and having a little character to you afterward. And its okay.


2. Embrace sloppy success. Its okay if your house gets half-cleaned, if you cooking dinner consisted of ordering pizza, or if you got your makeup on but didn't wash your hair. Life is crazy, and you are doing the best you can. So drink another cup of coffee and don't beat yourself up. All of those people with the perfect clothes, spotless houses, and gourmet dinners didn't spend half of the day at the lab.


3. Enjoy your new perspective. Crises give a richness to character. They provide empathy and compassion. You'll no longer see the marker on the wall as a catastrophe... its now an accomplishment (did you see that pincer grasp?!). You've been freed from freaking out about the small things. There are much bigger problems out there than your preschooler who wanted to wear boots, a tutu, and a swimsuit to church.


4. Laugh often. If you don't, you'll cry. So look for the humor in every situation. Like when you've had to take samples into the lab so many times that the NP asks you at a visit, "You don't happen to have any of her poop with you for us to culture, do you?" Oh yes, I carry some in my purse. Or when your husband says something about a "search and seizure" and you wonder why they are searching someone who is seizing... and then you realize its not THAT kind of seizure. Just giggle... it'll be fun.


5. Remind yourself of how far you both have come. Think of all of the goals met. Look at where you were a year ago. Look at how much more you know and how much stronger you are! Look at what you have survived. Focus on all of the positives.


6. Take breaks often. You aren't meant to endure that high level of stress so constantly. You'll get burned out fast. Find a reliable, well-trained sitter, and go get that mani-pedi. Wonder around Target uninterrupted. Take a nap. Watch a chick-flick. Spend time NOT thinking about medical issues. And don't feel guilty.

7. Smile at ignorant people and don't let them ruffle your feathers. Some people just don't know better and don't understand. So just give them your best southern smile and keep on walkin'. Or let your 4 year old answer their dumb questions with her brutal honesty and then find the humor and you've achieved a lot in one scenario. ;)


So there you have it, my million dollar advice. If you sell it, please split the profit with me so that I can buy cute shoes.