Dekker is extra worn out at the end of the day recently, for obvious broken-bone reasons. He is struggling hard, but he’s SO clear about his feelings that its endearing.
Yesterday, as we were sitting down at the supper table, he became upset about something and started crying. When I asked what he was upset about, he shouted that he was just in a really bad mood. I went over to him and tried out something that works sometimes but sometimes makes it worse. I ever so gently teased him.
“Dekker. Are you on the struggle bus?”
He rolled his eyes, but I saw a smirk crack before he switched back quickly to a frown.
“Wait. Are you driving the struggle bus?”
And there it was. He laughed and said he was. I told him I, too, was on the struggle bus. Laela jumped into our conversation and said she was the passenger on the struggle bus, though Dekker was quick to correct her that buses didn’t have passengers in the front the way cars and vans did. Rowan said he sat in the middle of the struggle bus, and Solly shouted that he “sat in between dad,” whatever that means. The message sent was that we all ride the struggle bus sometimes 🤷♀️
During supper, the struggle bus broke down and there was a bit of a desperate situation there. But Bus Driver Dekker managed to repair the struggle bus, just in time for it to break down again 🙄 That is one unreliable struggle bus we operate over here.
I thought it was all a pretty adorable exchange.
Today, I have hopped onto the struggle bus in full force. My pain has rejected my outing yesterday, and is insisting I stay relaxed and seated as long as possible. Tomorrow’s OB appointment is cancelled. My mom’s dentist appointment for this afternoon is cancelled. Plans with friends are cancelled. Everyone is coming around me and my weak, sore, nauseated body, and I’m humbled and embarrassed and disappointed and angry and choked about it.
I’m trying to listen. But the struggle bus bumps along pretty loudly.
🚌