Quick question. No, wait. Two questions.
1) WHYYYYYY DID I BUY THEM THIS
2) How long before the batteries die a malicious early death and I can claim that oh, sorry, those are SPECIAL batteries that we don't have and need to be special-ordered and delivered via yak from Malaysia, meanwhile, why don't you leave Simon with me and also, bring me a hammer. For reasons. Unrelated.
Other than the beep-borping-insanity brought on by that damn thing, I'm doing pretty well. I still hit the occasional rough patch where either the depression or anxiety spike, but since I finally have the ability to know what life feels like WITHOUT those dueling bastards, I can actually stop and recognize that okay, time for some self-care or mindfulness or deep breathing or sunshine or whatever the fuck.
It's been a really, really long time since I could even tell the difference.
The kids are doing really well too -- they're all such funny, matter-of-fact sorts who are just like, okay, Mom was sick but now she's getting better. She takes medicine and goes to a lot of doctor's appointments to stay better and out of the hospital. Yay Mom!
I'm hoping that if there is any upside to this whole disaster (besides me being like, alive), is that they've developed a healthy, helpful understanding that yep, brains can get sick just like any other body part. Noah takes his ADHD medication, Ezra takes allergy medication (for dust/pollen/basically all of nature), Ike takes....well, Ike takes a multivitamin, because he's as healthy as a horse despite eating the calorie intake of a gnat. Mom takes stuff now too.
Not to mention that they're already deeply familiar with invisible brain and neurological differences, so hearing that their mom struggles with something too wasn't deeply frightening or jarring. It was more like Moms! They're just like us!
(Ezra, being the lone "typical" kid stuck in the middle, proudly announces his status as an empath whenever the topic of his brothers' diagnoses comes up. Noah has ASD/ADHD, Ike has dyslexia, and "I have empathy," he says. "I feel other people's feelings and it's a lot of feelings to deal with sometimes.")
Lest I get too smug and comfortable about how great everybody is dealing with everything, however, kids are kids and love getting in the occasional, out-of-the-blue gut punch.
I came back from a therapy appointment and Noah was taking the garbage cans out. He asked where I'd gone and I told him. He nodded, walked down to the curb, and then turned around and hollered up the driveway at the top of his lungs, " I FORGET. WHAT ARE YOU DEPRESSED ABOUT AGAIN?"
I made everybody fruit salad the other day and spent a little extra time making the bowls pretty, then topped them with some whipped cream. They were delighted, and then Ezra said,"I love when you make me food, Mom. You stopped doing it for awhile, you know."
(I know, I know. The eggs. I didn't make you eggs.)
And then Ike, randomly, last week: "You remember that time you went to the hospital?"
Yes, I remember.
"I didn't like that time."
No, I didn't like it either.
"It felt like I didn't have a mom anymore."
Ohhhhhh, buddy. I am so sorry. But you do have a mom! Thank freaking goodness, you still do.