Bottle of Wishes
I have spent the last few hours wishing that things weren’t the way they were. We have a good life and even for the crap that goes wrong it goes wrong in what seems like the best possible way. It happens that someone is at my house who has nothing else going on for the day and can drive me to my kids’ school because my oldest just had a seizure during P.E. class and can also watch my girls for the afternoon while I go with my oldest to the ER to have drug levels checked and try to get an idea of why he had a seizure during P.E.
But that is not good enough. I still want perfection. And that is not needing to have a friend over at the right time so that I don’t have to navigate the freeway while my body is fighting some kind of panic attack. I want there to be a clear cut happy ending that is obvious. I’m tired of a good 6 months. I’m tired of a good 18 months. I want a good forever and I want it now. And not just for myself…although I am self centered and aware that I really do want it equally for myself. I want it for my oldest child.
Indulge me for a little while I name a few things I would like for my son:
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to be able to stay home alone while I run to the store for a few minutes
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to be able to go to the water park with his classmates rather than hang out with his mother because of a fear of his drowning
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to be able to drive when he turns 16 without worrying that he will kill or injure himself or others if he had a seizure while driving
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to be able to go on the light rail by himself next year when he’s in the 7th grade and he’s had plenty of practice riding it with his family
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to be able to go off to college someday
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to be able to have a beer someday
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to be able to look back on this someday and say, "what a crappy situation, glad it’s over now" and really know that it’s really over
A mother can dream. A mother just can’t make any promises.
