Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Letting go of the dream

When I was pregnant, or really before that, I had these visions of pushing a stroller, as a size 4, with my hair done, in heals with a cooing baby. Gone are those days. Today my dream is getting a shower in before noon, wearing matching socks, with hair that has been cut in the last four months and a shirt that does not have medicine or vitamin stains on it. My house is not as I would decorate it with chic vintage finds and dust-free knick knacks. It it littered with medicine syringes, oxygen tanks and a pediatric stander that looks like a torture device. My kitchen is littered with dirty dishes almost constantly and my room looks like my closet threw up my clothes all over the floor--all the time.

Over the past year I have quietly but staunchly held the view that having a special needs child does not make my life different than other mothers.Yesterday and today through books and conversations that view has been shattered and I am in the midst of building a new and more accurate view and goal for my days. I read my first book about parenting a special needs child. I guess even the name "special needs" means different. I just didn't want to admit so. All these parents say that they can't keep their house clean either. The difference is that they admit it. Now I am too.

Here I am world. Kelly Key. I am a mother to a wonderful girl who is about to turn one year old. She does not operate physically above a 3mo olds standards and requires constant attention when awake. My husband is wonderful but absolutely busy. We have the best friends and family in the world. My house is not clean. My floors are muddy from the dog (who is the culprit for the hairy couches), there are medicine bottles and oxygen tanks everywhere. Most often I do not put makeup on in the morning because the physical therapists do not care. I make a good dinner maybe twice a week and my car is a disaster. But I am proud of my life and my family. And where I would not accept help, now I require it. I am a constant work in progress and mostly a complete failure, but I try the best I can at everything I do. And when it is not enough, I will now learn to call someone else and ask for help. And that is okay. It will have to be okay.

7 comments:

  1. hi kelly. i found your blog through a friend's and am pretty sure i went to college with your hubby. (was he at arkansas 2001-2005??) i've not been able to stop reading your story since i found your blog last week. i'm amazed and inspired by your incredible family. my sophie and i have been including the sweet key family in our night-night prayers, and i just wanted you to know that. y'all are a precious family, and i love love love this post. hope you have a wonderful night!

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  2. Hey Kelly! I have been following your blog and just want you to know that I think you are doing an amazing job. Olivia is lucky to have a Mom like you! Hope to catch up soon!

    Megan Stines

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  3. Kelly I have known you as a strong person since high school. Nothing that came your way EVER sidelined you. I have no fear in saying that you are an amazing mother, wife, friend, sister, daughter...the titles could go on. I read every time you post and as a mother of soon to be 3 children, I find faith in the fact that God has given you and Brian amazing strength as parents - strength most will never know. (Including myself.) I pray every day for your family and that Olivia continues to get better. Just remember that He is always with you, and it IS okay to cry on his shoulder and ask friends and family for help. There is no shame in it, "special needs" child or not.

    Keep your head up kid.....just remember you have alot of people that love you and are praying each and every day.

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  4. i think you rock your "new normal" well.

    and olivia is lucky to have a mom like you. i bet she could care less about the mess. :)

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  5. Thanks Jami, girl! Thats the spirit. I am feeling better about being myself already today. A little vitamin D at the park will do that. Bringing your part-tay invitation to church this weekend. Flag me down!

    Jill, Brian DID go to school from 01-05. Thats how he knows the Younts. Thanks for reading and, of course for praying. We are doing wonderfully!

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  6. Dear Kelly and Brian,
    Being a care giver to a family member is the toughest job there is. As Kelly knows, I speak from experience. The MOST important job in all of this is to take care of yourself(ves) first. It sometimes is hard to do that because it seems wrong but you can take much better care of Olivia if you take care of yourself first. A messy house is unimportant in the long run. As long as you keep yourselves fed, that's a success! You are not a failure- you are wisely adjusting your priorities in life.

    When my body was younger, I could run marathons and a rule is that to finish a race, it is best to slow down at the rest stops and replenish yourself. You guys are in a marathon-have your friends take care of Olivia for a while or if there is a service that supplies trained people that you can take advantage of, do it. Kelly, you should try to get an hour every day for yourself to do whatever you want. Clean the house if you want or go for a bike ride, read a book-do what you WANT to do. It is a water station in your marathon. Allowing yourself to be replenished will make you an even better Mom for Olivia. It is not selfish, it is good care-giving.

    And don't worry about the make-up unless it makes you feel better. If it helps you, then if you can at all, find time. If it is not important to YOU, then it is not important.

    Sometimes, putting yourself first is not being selfish. Please think about that because I know it goes against what we are taught but you feeling a little more rested and a little less stressed is a gift to Olivia.

    Take Care of Yourselves!
    Mark Storey

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  7. Kell - I am not sure there are many families prayed for more than yours. Thanks for what you write and the glimpses you give us into your heart. God is good all the time -- All the time God is good. You are proof. Love you, Jane

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