When I don't act like the person Mr. Rogers believes I can be

Coming back home to myself

In the last 30 days, my husband or I have taken our children to the urgent care about 25 times. Mostly my husband has taken them.

Some variety of children in this house have tested positive for strep, RSV, Covid, pneumonia, ear infection or just been diagnosed with the common fucking cold.

Even the baby tested positive for Covid, and she had a pretty rough go of it.

It is no one’s fault that we are this sick. It is cold and flu season, and we have 6 elementary age kids in our blended family.

But I. Am. Exhausted.

We are exhausted.

Fatigue is something else in sobriety. When I was drinking, fatigue was like a challenge. If you let on that you’re tired, I would think, you will have lost. You’ll have to admit maybe the drinking is maybe having a negative effect.

But now, what do I do with this fatigue?

In short, I have not acted as the person Mr. Rogers believes I can be.

I have the phrases that I know : this too shall pass, for instance. And yes, in my bones, I suppose I know this too shall pass. But fucking when, I want to know.

We have been at urgent care and Walgreens and ordered so much Zarbees and cough and cold and vitamin C gummies and kids multivatmins.

We have distributed so many saltines, so much Ginger Ale, so many Goldfish crackers, so much juice, so many Capris Suns. There are socks and crumbs everywhere. Everything has been on hold.

If I have to come up with one more meal idea for these kids, I said to my husband. I am going to lose my goddamn mind.

PB&J all around, we say. Breakfast for dinner (frozen waffles have been coming in clutch). Surely Doritos counts as a full meal. Fruit and whatever else you want.

Even when I was drinking, so long as I gave the children fruit, all was well.

It was what I held up as the thing that meant I couldn’t have a problem. The kids ate fruit. I went to work. A problem couldn’t exist, I thought.

But I was always scared.

I’m not scared today, not of that.

Even so, being fully present is exhausting.

But at least I don’t feel like I have a shadow chasing me, that something horrible is going to happen, that I have this unbeatable thing that I just can’t quite get down.

I am sober, so all is well. It is always worth it.

This, too, shall pass. Even if I think the divine timing is obnoxious as hell.

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And then, as it is, unfortunately (or fortunately) what I have learned to do, is turn to the most basic and simplest concept of all : I just do my best. My honest best.

I ask the universe to show me the next right thing.

To learn the difference between what is mine to carry and what isn’t : my entire life’s work.

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When I try to come home to myself, to be the person Mr. Rogers believes I can be, I have to go back to basics: meditation. Self care. Living in gratitude.

I am still working on gathering my self-care tools. I do love a bubble bath. I light candles. I listen to music. I ask to be shown the next right step or action.

But here I am : over two full years since my last drink, and I am still gathering my most basic tools. I go to meetings. I text my sponsor.

I say, to whatever force is out there in the universe that makes the sun rise and set and the trees know when to drop their leaves and put on buds, I say: please in the morning, and thank you at night.

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This morning, the baby wakes up happy. She is still snotting everywhere, but she is getting better. There is a chance of snow this afternoon, and the kids are excited.

My husband sits with the baby on his legs, singing patty cake to her. She giggles. My husband smiles at her. I am so lucky to have him, I think. A man who loves to sing to our daughter. He is a good father, a good man.

He dotes on our daughter, on all the children really, and he dotes on me, too.

Here I am complaining, and I have what I have wanted my entire life : a man who dotes.

I snap at him sometimes, part of this fatigue.

This is how I speak to the nicest man in the world, I sometimes say, joking, after I’ve lost my temper.

Outside, there is so much dark shit happening. So much outside my control. It is unfair, really, so much of what is happening here in my tiny reality, to my sweet family (sickness aside), our community, on a global scale.

Inside, our kids are coughing. We are coughing. But we have medicine and we are all on the mend. We are on the upswing.

We have been so lucky with the kids not getting sick while the baby was so little. She is 10 months old now. She waves hello and goodbye. She is so strong.

The baby didn’t get RSV. To whatever makes the sun rise and set, thank you.