Chaos in wobbly motion

This year for Lent I've given up fluid mobility. Well, actually, my brain has decided to give that up, and since I really liked being able to walk normally, and would find it a large sacrifice to give up normal ambulation, I'll just go along with my brain's decision. 

You know life, that beautiful crazy unpredictable beast?  Well life plopped down in my lap this past week, grabbed my face with both hands, and said, "Have I got a SURPRISE for you!!"

I've told the sequence of events no less than 2 gazillion times at this point, and just don't have it in me to repeat so I will give you the long and short.  What started Tuesday night as face spasms, like a tetany of the side of my mouth, has evolved and changed into a wonky Funky Chicken-like walk.   My ability to move steadily, effortlessly, and smoothly has decided to take a vacation, due to some yet to be diagnosed reason.  The sun seems to bright, the sound of silverwear being put on the table sounds like cymbals, and I find myself withdrawing from my own son's voice (which breaks my heart) because it sounds like he is shouting.  

Anyone who is a Mom, knows that Moms are not allowed to get sick, much less removed from the helm of the household ship.  But life has sort of picked up the house, turned it upside down, shook all the players and pieces out, and we are now trying to figure out how things work again.

My children's true colors have shown brightly through this experience. The youngest, the comedian just giggles and giggles when he sees me walk, because he thinks I am trying to be funny, and that I walk like Spud from Bob the Builder.

The middle, our daughter, the one who is already far too concerned about what people think, said, "What if people see you walking and think 'Wow! She walks funny!' and make fun of you?" and My oldest, the tender-hearted of the pack, offers me a shoulder to help me walk to the bathroom.  Their unique responses to this has just made me smile.  

Now should you find yourself, with your world turned upside down, I've compiled a list of people "must-haves" I've discovered you will need.  First you need really amazing people, strong people, people not afraid of a challenge to whom you will hand your children over to.  Managing them is A LOT of work, I know, I'm their mom and some days I just want to quit.  They have to manage playing taxi, checking homework, brushing teeth, building train tracks and all those important daily activities of childhood.  People you trust with your whole heart to care for your minions. These people are usually called grandparents.

You need family and friends.  Like apples, they come in all varieties. These are the varieties which I suggest you stock in your crisis pantry.   Friends that want to make you food.  Me wielding a knife to prepare a meal is probably not the wisest decision right now, since I'd probably be like the Muppet Swedish chef,  so friends that bring food are fabulous.  

 Next, you really can't have to many of this variety.  Acutally the more, the better.  Family and friends with faith, who will offer prayers, good vibes, and positive thoughts up on your behalf. There is no "too much of a good thing" when it comes to these friends.

Make sure you have at least one friend that is totally fine with a comfortable silence. The kind that will just sit on your couch and look at you, let you look at them and nothing has to be said.  They will just curl up next to you and let you be. Because there are some moments you'll find you don't know what else to do, but be.

You need at least one (but more are better) really funny, sarcastic, slighly warped people who will send you funny texts, emails and Facebook messages to make you laugh.  

They will bring you coffee and celebrity gossip magazines.  And, you need a couple, maybe two or three, who will let you just say some bad words because you just need to. Because they know you are angry, mad, scared, confused and/or hurting and sometimes you just need to let out a string of profanities. And they will just let you, without judgement.

I'm sure there are many more, but lastly, this person is probably the most important. You need a rock, someone who will hold your hand because you literally need it.  He will show strength despite his own fears.  He will fill you with reassuring words and soft kisses on your head. He will advocate for you and protect you.  He will love you and make you believe it will not always be this way.  For me, this person is called Husband.

Lent is long. 40 days.  Most years I hope and pray that I can make my sacrifice last all 40.  This year I'm really hoping I fall short.