My Mother’s Day weekend was pretty awesome. I did some sewing, went to Goodwill (a thrift store) for their half-off everything sale and my hubby and children got my first garden plot ready. We went to my Mom’s for dinner yesterday, and thanks to a caramel mocha iced latte, the fatigue didn’t hit me until we were thinking of leaving. I dozed the entire hour and a half drive home. I wore purple, as did my Mom and my three-year-old. My nine-year-old started out in purple but five outfit changes later, the purple didn’t last. She did paint her NAILS purple with purple f’ s. My eleven-year-old son owns no purple and the hubby wore his purple shirt the day before. Maybe if we started a tradition, somewhat like St. Patrick’s Day, where you get a slap to the back of the head for not wearing purple on Fibromyalgia Awareness Day, more people would go along with it. Maybe not. Something less violent, perhaps? That would probably hurt us worse than it would hurt them.
I have to tell you about my trip to Goodwill. I had purple and butterflies on the brain, for obvious reasons. I always check out the sheets because fibromyalgia has forced me to do more re-fashioning than from-scratch sewing. Sheets allow me to make skirts that already have a hem, so I just have to do side seams and elastic. Easy-peasy. I found a sheet set that is purple with butterflies on it. The angels sang in my head when I saw them. I was thinking of making infinity scarves for all my fibromyalgia friends. When I got them home, I studied them more closely, and realized they were more worn than I originally thought, so I’m now thinking maybe bags instead of scarves.
I also always check the men’s shirts because men’s Hawaiian shirts make great skirts. The material is soft, the colors are bright and all I have to do is chop and sew down the sides and top to fit my waist. I found some Hawaiian shirts, but my really exciting find was a t-shirt. It is blue, but it has a Spartan stabbing through a lavender ribbon on the front with “Warrior” underneath. The back has a pretty design and it says “Fighting for a cure”, also in lavender. My hubby thinks it was meant for cancer. Well, guess what? Now a fibromyalgia sufferer owns it, so it’s for fibro. I’m going to refashion it into a tank top for summer and maybe paint the ribbon a darker purple.
When we returned from our shopping trip, I realized that my planned outfit of purple tank top and butterfly t-shirt was dirty. Instead of washing those, which would have been a lot easier, I decided to make myself a quick skirt. It didn’t take me that long to do a circle skirt with a simple waistband. The best part was that I could make this without a pattern. Pattern sewing is nearly impossible for me because cutting out the pattern, then pinning the pattern on the fabric, then cutting out the pattern, then following the pattern-maker’s instructions, is just too much time with little reward. I was really glad that the next day was Mother’s Day because I needed the rest badly after that undertaking.
Besides getting the garden ready for planting, my daughter loaded and unloaded the dishwasher and swept and mopped the kitchen floor. I haven’t mopped in weeks, so this was quite the task for my skinny little nine-year-old. In years past, I would’ve probably hinted that I didn’t want to wash dishes on Mother’s Day and my hubby would’ve told me not to worry about it and would’ve made me breakfast, making a huge mess. Then, the day after Mother’s Day, I would’ve been cleaning the dishes and the rest of the kitchen myself. Not that I wouldn’t appreciate the gesture, but it used to drive me crazy. It shows how much my family has learned and adapted since my diagnosis. I love them to pieces and I know I’m so fortunate to have such understanding people in my life.
Fibromyalgia Awareness Day took a back burner to Mother’s Day for me. It was more important for me to spend time with my family and be able to enjoy all their hard work for me and bask in the love of my family. I ended the day with pain, depression and fatigue. I felt guilty that I hadn’t blogged. All the activity of the weekend caught up with me. It hurt to move, and my skin was overly sensitive. Today, I’m feeling overwhelmed because I have my garden ready to go, but I hurt still and I don’t know if I’ll have the energy to plant seeds. There is laundry to do. It’s a beautiful day, but I’m still on the couch. I’m not sure how blogging turned into this massive freak out. Blogging is supposed to help me, not make me more anxious.
Excuse me while I talk myself through this. It is not quite eleven in the morning. If you don’t get things planted today, that’s okay. If you don’t get laundry started, that’s okay. Relax and breathe. Turn your relaxing music back on. Breathe. If you felt well enough to do something else, you’d be doing it. Be kind to yourself. Open the shades, let in the sun. Breathe. Stop gritting your teeth. Relax.