A sense of accomplishment

Earlier this week I had one of those rare days where you feel like you have your shit under control (well, they’re rare for me anyway- can’t speak for anyone else).

I’d done grocery shopping, picked up these beauties that I won on ebay:




I’d dropped forms in at school ready for September- hell I’d even bought my 4 year old’s book bag, even though he’s not going to have a book to go in it for another 2 months.   All with two kids in tow, and with playtime and lunchtime inbetween…I really felt like I was On Top Of Things.

Then I made the mistake of going in the kitchen:






Someone should really do something about that, I thought to myself…oh wait, that would be me then. Damn it.

See, this is how it is.  Pick any two of the following three and I can do it:

1. Tidy house

2. Happy children

3. Sanity intact

But for all three to exist at the same time I’m gonna need help, and by that I mean paid help, in the form of a cleaner and a chef and possibly a nanny…as well as a dishwasher and an extra few hours in the day.

Later that same evening, when the boys were asleep in their beds, Chris was out at work and I was wearing my pyjamas (or, you know one of Chris’s clean work t shirts…whatever) I went into the bathroom and discovered that at some point we had also completely run out of toilet roll.

So much for having things under control hey?!

The thing is though, 9 months ago, just the fact that Chris was able to go out to work and I was able to walk around and take care of the kids solo would have been a miracle in itself.  Back then fastening my own bra was an achievement, as was showering by myself, and walking to the toilet and back on two crutches under the watchful eye of three physiotherapists.

So I am kind of torn.  Because on the one hand, life has moved on, and everyone (including me!) is expecting a bit more from me these days than just being able to mobilise around the house.  And that’s awesome and I can’t lie, I definitely get a kick out of surpassing other people’s (and my own) expectations of someone with CIDP, otherwise I wouldn’t have just taken part in 4 charity runs/walks in the space of  about 6 weeks would I?!

But, on the other hand, I am still not over how amazing it is to be able to get a shower by myself.  To not have to ask Chris to wash my hair (unless, you know- I wanted to for some reason), to not need crutches every time I leave the house (I haven’t used mine since February)  I kind of expected the novelty to wear off, and for me to begin to take it all for granted again, and yes there are definitely days when I let the everyday grind get to me, and forget that months ago I would have fantasised about being able to do incredibly mundane stuff like take my kids around Aldi for the week’s shopping.  But on the whole, I have somehow managed to hold on to that appreciation that I felt the first time I took steps unaided.

So while other people might applaud my achievement on walking 10k (or they might not, and might just wish I’d quit bugging them for sponsorship money) I am able to feel a sense of accomplishment over even seemingly insignificant stuff, like having control over my own limbs at any given moment (well, most of the time anyway…)



Any thoughts?

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