Late night self care

Recovering so I can heal others and fight on another day

Hi Dangerous People!

What happens in the kitchen stays in the kitchen.

Sometimes after a hard day, I need a way to unwind that does not involve screens, my brain, or other people.

Today, I’m angry and heartbroken. E, my 15-year-old daughter, is hurting—physically and emotionally. She’s always been our most independent spirit. She doesn’t want help—and truthfully, often, she doesn’t need help. She’s an incredible problem solver. Math is intuitive for her. She is a better writer than I was in high school and a much better visual artist than I am currently.

She’s struggling with a host of health issues, and getting the right treatments has been an uphill battle. She’s missed a lot of school.

Tonight she broke down sobbing.

Somehow, this brilliant, brilliant young woman doesn’t feel smart.

She lets me hug her, something she rarely allows anyone to do these days.

I want to hold her like I did when she was a baby. But while she will always be my baby, she is not a baby. She’s more adult than so many grown-ups I deal with regularly.

She is feeling immense pressure from school, and some of her teachers are being unreasonable about her excused absences.

the teachers prepare
my children for a world that
no longer exists

The house is quiet and dark now. E and all the other kids are in bed. Becky is at work at the hospital. I make myself a steaming hot cup of hot chocolate, pull out a twinkie to dunk, and listen to a soft playlist.

Tonight I rest and recover so that tomorrow I can ride into battle.

Be the weird you want to see in the world!

Cheers,

Jason