Summer is almost over. I can't believe it. School starts in less than a week and I'm torn between needing my routines (and job) back, and mourning the loss of the lazy days where I wake on my own well before the alarm.
We've also been working harder on his gait trainer. In the past, when he's in it, he raises his legs, almost like, "hey, whose driving today?" He's very content just to hang there in the harness and let everyone else do the work. His therapist has gotten some braces though which make it so he can't bend his legs, ensuring that he's bearing weight. We use them in the trainer for a while and then take them off, and he will try to push against the floor! He's moving! Even if it's just a little bit. This exercise also has the benefit of strengthening those chicken bones he calls legs. Our bones grow and get stronger because of resistance, but his haven't really had any. His lungs are healthier for being upright and exercising. All in all, it's a very good thing.
On Saturday, we went to a family reunion at the "This is the Place" park in Salt Lake. Among exhibits is a Native American section where there was a medicine wheel. In the center is harmony and balance. I try to find balance. I know I get "off" a lot. I forget to stop, or at least slow down. I forget that there is more to life than just trying to make sure he's healthy. He's a little boy. He's got siblings, a family. And in so many ways, he's more like other kids than unlike them. He wants to play, to be with people. He loves back rubs and movies and stories. There's so much more to life than just doctor's visits and medicine.
Sometime I feel overwhelmed. Like there is no way I can do everything I'm supposed to. And you know, that may be true. I can't do it all. I'm not really meant to. But if I'm wise, if I'm careful, if I look to God for my strength, I can do the important things. I can be a mom, a wife, a sister, daughter, friend. I can try to be in tune with all my children, be a mom to all of them. I can reach for the student who is struggling and maybe listen just for a few minutes. (I don't get much more than that, I'm a substitute teacher.)
And I can find my quiet place, my quiet time, even for a brief period, and find my center, my balance, my soul, my God. And draw the strength I need.