My rheumatoid arthritis has been getting really bad lately, and I’ve been feeling like an insufficient parent for Owen — not a bad parent, as I know I’m not, but just not up to the task.
He still likes to be rocked to sleep sometimes, and I couldn’t stand up out of the rocker with his weight on me. (I figured out that I can rock with my knees near the bed, then just tip forward and roll him onto the bed.)
Chasing after him at the park is nigh impossible. Errands with him along have transformed from fun to miserable.
Sometimes at home, because it’s been hard to get out of average to low chairs, I’ve parked our high task chair near the back sliding door and supervised his backyard play; he wants me to come be with him but I haven’t been able to stand for long or lift much or do much, and I was getting worried about his play connection with me.
So because I’m starting a new medication this week, I did a little prednisone pulse (which I’m already tapering off, but it was so necessary) to get me functional, knowing (hoping, anyway — I just don’t get a lot of help from most meds I’ve tried so far) that an end is in sight to this flare.
And … well, because I’m me, when he asked to go to the park today, I said “yes,” and he said, “really? ohhhh!” and off we went. And boy oh boy did he play, and I was hugely able to keep up, surprised my own socks off. I am so much better, thanks to lovely steroids, than I was even two days ago.
But I also way, way overdid it. I do hope I am feeling as well tomorrow as I do today, but I’m not counting on it.
Sometimes it’s just worth it, I’ve been known to (carefully, intentionally, safely) overmedicate to go see Great Big Sea play, because I can’t not dance. I’ve overmedicated when traveling, and for other important events that I want to enjoy. And this time, it worked out simply that I got to take my kid to the park and keep up with him.
He was so happy, all afternoon, and is so tired and happy now … or at least, I think his dreams are happy. He’s completely zonked out.