Migraine Mama and the Monday Meltdown

I love my kids. And I would die for them. And it's a good darn thing because they are killing me. Slowly. Yesterday, parenting felt like being pecked to death by a horde of broke-beak chickens. (Sorry. I'm practicing for when we move to Possum Hollow Lane.) It was like being stabbed to death with a butter knife. Yes, that's how it felt yesterday.

I woke up not feeling so great. It happens. But since moms can't call in sick, usually you just try to do what you can to make yourself feel better and then get on with your day. Or on the rare occasion when your husband is home, you milk it for all it's worth by telling him it's something mysterious and "female" (which guarantees you'll be left alone for fear you'll explain in great detail what is ailing you). Or you tell him that you feel all "woozy" and that if you have to stand up, you are certain that you'll experience an episode of vertigo or syncope that will cause you to fall and hit your head and then he'll have to watch the kids for 3 days instead of just today. If he buys it, you've done your job. If he is still skeptical, perhaps it will at least buy you some time on the couch where you can parent from the supervisory position, instead of the usual hands-on one. Anyway, I knew it was going to be a tough day, and no, Jay was not at home.

I just didn't feel right. We tried to go ahead with our usual "stuff," but as the day progressed, I regressed. Then I realized why. I was getting a migraine. And it just happened to be on a day when no one could seem to get along, that breathing the same air caused weeping and wailing, and the mere suggestion of doing chores and picking up toys caused unbelievable hissy fits and rivers of tears. (I hate it when the kids boss me around.)

I used to hear people complain about having a headache, and I'd think to myself, take a Tylenol and be quiet already. Then sometime in my early twenties, I experienced my first migraine. Clearly neither Merriam nor Webster who defined migraine as an intense, periodic headache, usually limited to one side of the head, have ever actually had one themselves. They didn't even mention the nausea, blurred vision, sensitivity to light, absolute desperation to find quiet, and the propensity to think and/or say irrational things. Nope, I don't think they've ever had one. You factor in four kids, and things can get interesting.

You see, ideally, when one of these headaches from Hades hits, you pop whatever medication you normally take, lie down in a dark, quiet room and just sleep that baby off. And while mixing a cocktail of Benadryl and Nyquil certainly crossed my mind yesterday...on more than one occasion, so did hitting myself in the head with a hammer and lying down with my head underneath the garage door while the kids took turns opening and closing it, that way maybe they could just knock me out and be entertained at the same time. As tempting as these options were at times, I declined. Thankfully, two of the four kids are self-sufficient and also very helpful with the younger ones.

By the time dinner rolled around, I was seriously doubting my capabilities, and it occurred to me that perhaps I should have kept those squishy little orange ear plugs from my MRI. Not just for the noise reduction of the jackhammer in my head or to silence my offspring, but because I became convinced that this searing pain in my cranium must surely be melting my brain and that those plugs could quite possibly hold my now liquefied brains in place until I reach medical help...they'll know what to do; I also was careful not to blow my nose for fear of losing gray matter. I am so thankful I taught Ryan to cook grilled cheese sandwiches, which he does quite capably. It came in handy. About the time the kids sat down to eat their dinner, I told Ryan and Emily, "If I pass out, check for breathing and a pulse. If you find that I am breathing and my heart is beating, just put a pillow under my head, cover me up and call Daddy at his meeting. Everything will be fine." Then I felt the need to reiterate, put the pillow UNDER my head, because unfortunately my eldest son has inherited my husband's sense of humor. I did not want to be inadvertantly smothered just because I suffered from a terrible headache.

Well, somehow we made it through our day. No one got hurt, everyone got fed, some were even bathed, baby napped, toddler played, big kids schooled, and Mama 'hanged on' like a possum in a tree...for dear life and seemingly upside down for most of the day. I finally made it to that dark room sans the Benadryl or Nyquil and just slept. And just as I thought, today was a brand-new day, a chance to begin again. God is good like that. "Morning by morning new mercies I see..."

While cleaning up the breakfast dishes, I noticed the hammer on the kitchen counter. Maybe I was more irrational than I realized...