Surviving Parenthood and a Health Battle: The Unseen Strength of Everyday Moms

Parenting can be one of the toughest jobs on the planet. Add a currently struggling with a health battle to the mix—complicates daily life—and suddenly, everything seems even more daunting. Even the slightest bump in the road can seem like I'm slowly falling off the side of the universe. Thats me the past few days, for lack of a better description, I feel like my physical body and mental mindset are crumbling; piece by piece......like a dry, old ass cookie!

This post goes out to all the mamas juggling their chaos like pros, even when life decides to throw a hailstorm your way, pelting you with ice chunks of craziness. We each have our own wacky adventures of parenting while dealing with health hiccups. But hey, no matter how crummy you're feeling, those kids of yours are always the top priority, even if you’re doing it while sporting the fakest smile!

I've discovered that being a parent is like juggling flaming torches while riding a unicycle—attention to detail, energy, and emotional strength are mandatory. Throw in some health battles, like in my case, and you've got a soap opera worthy of prime-time TV. Picture this: managing doctors' appointments, juggling 12+ different meds, and keeping up with treatment plans, all while holding down a full-time job. Add in after-school sports, a teenager with drama worthy of an Oscar, as she's being bullied and trying to heal a torn MCL... oh, and let's not forget the four-year-old. He's got a speech schedule, modeling gigs, boundless energy, and I'm over here winning the award for "World's Shittiest Wife" because seriously, where's the time for anything else?!

There's a lot to digest, and I promise not to turn this blog into an epic novel of my everyday life, besides my health saga, which I'll give you the quick version of in a sec. The real kicker that’s got me boiling like a kettle on overdrive is the bullying. My daughter attends a tiny private school, with fewer than 10 kids per class. Why? Well, she's Dyslexic, but that's just a tidbit for the curious cats out there. Anyway, I'm no fool—I know bullying is more common than a bad hair day, even among adults who should know better. But when did racism, body shaming, and vulgarity become the new normal at 12 and 13 years old? Screw it, I was still playing with Barbies and creating "shows" for my family to watch at 13 years old. Why is a school, parents or any adult letting this absurdity continue without teaching these kids to be decent human beings? Or heck, just teach them what #kindness means! Let’s face it, these kids aren’t inventing racist and sexist remarks on their own; they’re picking it up from someone nearby—maybe even at home. I might ruffle some feathers here, but my final verdict on this chaotic conundrum is: if you can't raise decent citizens, maybe rethink the whole parenting gig!

After a whole lot of head-scratching and pacing, I realized my best move is to be her cheerleader while keeping the school on a short leash. I'm on them like a squirrel on a nut, and you can bet your last cookie that if things don't shape up, this mama bear is going straight to the parents and the school's executive VP! Anyone else been in a similar situation and got tips on how to back up my cub, roar a bit, but not turn into a full-blown grizzly? On my steroids, I go from 0-100 in seconds.....fastest performance car on the road!

To add a little more drama to this blog's soap opera, today I finally had a rendezvous with the rheumatologist, since my grand escape from the hospital on Friday. My methotrexate is back in action, I'm still riding the steroid rollercoaster, and now for the plot twist—they think the meds and Sarcoidosis might have turned my muscles into jelly. That's why my knees are doing the cha-cha, and I'm getting surprised zaps of pain all over. And guess what?!? MORE TESTING! It's time for x-rays and scans galore, but hey, at least I've got some pain meds to hopefully help me snooze instead of spending the night sobbing on the couch; don't judge my rear until you've been there! I wouldn't wish this whole #hotmess on my worst enemy. These days I feel like hiding at home, the steroids have changed my entire body, I am a huge ass round faced Pillsbury dough girl, a badass one, but still, I look in the mirror and don't recognize myself. What do I do? I will do what I have to in order to keep pushing and get answers, even if it's a huge pain in the ass and leads to additional mental breakdowns throughout (God bless my husband, children, amazing friends and family). I need to be here to watch my children grow up and finally retire with my husband for some peace and quiet. I cannot let this destroy my body, mind and soul. I have to stay in the game; my now fat ass, thanks prednisone, has to balance and walk that tight rope till I am on the road to recovery and able to build myself back up.

If you know me, you know I'm about as bendy as a steel beam, but this experience has taught me that I need to twist like a yoga guru given my current social, emotional, and physical circumstances. Routines can pull a surprise backflip thanks to health hiccups or kids' events, and going with the flow is the secret to keeping stress from turning into a monster. Trust me, the monster still comes out because I thrive on organization and schedule. However, I am starting to set expectations for chaos at the start of each day, so that the disappointment doesn't always take over.

We moms must switch to survival mode, like secret agents on a mission, retraining our bodies, minds, and souls to respond in various ways to do what's best for ourselves and our beloved children, whether they're little or not-so-little, especially those wonderful kids. I've discovered that being open about health issues, especially with my teenage daughter, is like giving her a VIP backstage pass to life. She feels involved and "in the know." Like me, she thrives on consistency and routine. So, I prepare like a chef on a cooking show, but sometimes you end up in the ER at midnight, and there's nothing anyone can do about it. Sharing age-appropriate information can help them understand and empathize instead of becoming little angry volcanoes. It doesn't always work, but I'm learning to share this information delicately instead of delivering it with my usual blunt, emotionless sarcasm.

Parenthood feels like joining the Olympics of chaos, especially when facing a health challenge. Celebrate every small victory—honestly, if I get some sleep tonight, I'll be doing a victory dance in the morning! And remember to acknowledge the support team around you. Let others take the lead sometimes; you don't have to handle everything alone. I dislike admitting I can't do something or feeling useless, but at this moment, I need to teach my mind to relax—this is just a pause, not the end point.... easier said than done. Trust me I know; you can often find me pondering these concepts in the middle of the damn night.

Let's face it, even on my best days, life wasn't exactly a flawless ballet, so why on earth would I expect it to be now?! I'm still going to rise to the occasion, showing up for my kids (whether we're chilling at home or having adventures outside because my immune system is a bit of a diva right now). I'll keep pushing myself despite my current hiccups. I want my kids to think, "Wow, Mom's got this under control!"—maybe not with the speed, precision, or clarity of a ninja, and sure, she might need a few more naps these days, but I need to drum into their heads that my stubbornness brings hope and consistency to their lives.