Celebrating my caregivers, the fabulous four men in my life.

I’m just recovering in my recliner.

This is the price I must pay for the weekend I have just had, and in fact, the price my lovely husband also has to pay. It is he who has just given up his Sunday mowed the lawns, weeded the gardens, vacuumed the whole house, cooked dinner and cleared away the dishes.  In a minute, he is going to bring me his home made rice pudding with ice cream.

I didn’t do anything to help.

I couldn’t.

My joints are throbbing, and I feel extremely fatigued.  My fingers are struggling to type this, so thank goodness for auto correct!  I’m recovering from the road trip down to Dunedin to bring our middle son home from University for the Summer.  And also from delivering our eldest son back to the airport to fly back to Wellington after he made a fleeting visit to Christchurch for a mates 21st this weekend.

My youngest came with me to Dunedin for the trip.  We stayed the night  before returning with the middle one the following day.  The little one carried my bag for me in and out of the hotel, and made me cups of tea while we were there.  He’s only 12.  My middle one insisted I stay in the car while he and the smallest made their way up and down three flights of stairs at the halls of residence carrying down bags and boxes.  My oldest cooked me dinner when we finally got home, and cleaned my kitchen.  During this time my husband, Max, was out playing gigs to earn extra money because  I can’t work any more because of stupid scleroderma.

So lets hear it for the boys, without them, I’d be really struggling, and that’s probably an understatement.

I’m loving the blessings the weekend brought though.

The drive down was awesome, golden yellow fields of canola, rolling green pastures, little brooks with funny names (dog kennel stream) and the quaint little shops lining the little townships of central Otago as we got closer and closer to Dunedin.  I really loved watching the smallest one take in the hotel (“wow Mum, we’re on the 7th floor”) and his wide eyes as room service delivered our evening meal (“so posh….our own personal waiter”).

Once home, It was awesome to be able to sit with all three of my sons in the same room for the first time since Christmas last year.  My eldest had arrived from Wellington, and as they were discussing life’s challenges together I sat back and admired the young men they have become (the two oldest) and are becoming (the small one).  I know they all benefit from the awesome example they have have in Max.

So yes, pain, fatigue and a fair bit of difficulty fighting feelings of inadequacy and the shame.  The typical feelings associated with being chronically ill and not being able to contribute towards the never ending domestic work needed to keep the household running.  But I won’t let it overrun me.  I have so very much to be thankful for, so many good things happened this weekend.  And I am so blessed to have these four beautiful males in my life….my smallest, middle and eldest, and my beautiful Max.