Why I Sometimes Hide From Super Cute Moms

Why I Sometimes Hide From Super Cute Moms

May 23, 2016 | Posted in: Chronic illness and relationships, Chronic Life, Parenting and Chronic Illness

I see you super cute mom. I do. I see you rocking those new highlights and those trendy clothes. I see you volunteering at the school party and preparing to sweat it up at the gym. I see you heading out for coffee with friends and making your Pinterest-perfect crafts. I see you enjoying your “girl’s day” at the nail salon and kicking butt and taking names at work. And, yes, I also see you see trying to start up a conversation with me and, “wondering if our kids might get together for a playdate?” And, yes, I am hiding from you.

Super cute mom, it’s not you, it’s me. I mean, clearly you are awesome. But right now, you remind me of everything I’m not. You’re in my face awesomeness can be a little bit painful for me at times. Don’t get me wrong: I love to see you playing your note, doing your thing. It’s just my life looks so very differently than yours, so much differently than I thought it would. And sometimes, it feels impossible to explain.

Remember a couple of years ago, when my youngest started preschool? You saw me in my pajamas at drop-off and thought they were work-out clothes? In your defense, I suppose most people do actually wear them for yoga and not sleeping. Anyway, you were so sweet and chipper, with your invitation to join you for your kickboxing class at the gym. I mean, wasn’t that where I was headed, after all, the gym? But remember how I was actually headed back to bed because chronic illness runs my life and that’s what I did every day after drop off? Oh, but remember how I didn’t know how to explain that to you so instead I just awkwardly declined and hid from you for the rest of the year? Super cute mom, I promise it’s not you, it’s me.

And super cute mom? I see you at the kid’s appointments, too. You’re everywhere–– in your polished, professional clothes or workout gear, so awake, alert, and present. I know you wonder why I look so bedraggled or if I’ve even brushed my hair today. Super cute mom, I’m embarrassed to say, the answer might be no. Sometimes it takes all I’ve got to get us out the door. Sometimes I’m counting down the minutes and seconds until this appointment ends and I can go back to sleep. I’m sure you’re lovely, but I’m just too tired to make conversation.

And, yes, your kid is awesome, too. I bet she would play great with my kid. But I don’t know if I’ll be able to drive next Tuesday. It’s up to my body. She’s the boss. The beach? Well, yes, I used to love the beach. But, my body can’t handle the heat or the distance now. I’m sure another super cute mom would love to go with you!

Oh, and super cute mom? I used to be one of you. I wasn’t always like this. And maybe that’s part of why I’m hiding from you.

 

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4 Comments

  1. Stacey Patrick
    May 24, 2016

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    I love how I am not alone in the struggle. I hide from others due to illness. I can’t handle the heat (like, at all). I wish I could say it was ‘less guilt and more grace’ led though. Perfect timing for this post. Trying to psych myself up for a local chronic illness get together.. But I don’t know about it – just yet. Everyone seems so put together, despite illness. If only, I could push through like they do…

  2. Stacey Philpot
    May 24, 2016

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    I’m not sure pushing through is all its cracked up to be. I think many times it hurts us in the long run. And deep down, we both know appearances don’t mean anything.

  3. Ruth Campos
    May 27, 2016

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    During the five years that I lived with chronic fatigue, wondering why God was letting me go through that, I was doing well if I kept the baby’s diapers changed and got supper on the table most days.
    The Lord brought me through to the other side through a very difficult diet change which I never would have been able to stick with had the five years of suffering not been so intense and long and drawn out.
    And looking back at those dark days, I know that the waiting and the suffering were necessary for me to grow in my faith in God and to come to the place where I understood what it was like to be disabled. I personally needed that suffering to have a gracious and understanding spirit toward others who were suffering some sort of handicap.
    When you’re in the middle of that crisis, sometimes you just have to do what you have to do to make it through another day. And that’s okay. God understands even when others don’t, but maybe some of those super cute moms have a story of suffering of their own that they have not shared with you, and maybe they would understand. Katie Jo, in her friendship post, seems to suggest that it might be worth a try.

  4. Kelly S
    May 28, 2016

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    So very Stacey and so very helpful. I love the way you give us a peek into what it’s like to be you. It helps me to understand how chronic illness affects those I care about. It’s not a mind over matter thing. You can’t make your body do something it won’t. Thanks for your transparency!

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