We had the worst family meeting ever yesterday. Most of the time when we have a family meeting, someone is struggling the most and we balance the load differently so that person has greater ease until life settles down a bit.
That’s not an option right now. I’m really struggling with the fact that everyone is at capacity.
I want to, but I won’t get into the laundry list of health issues my kids struggle with. I feel really guilty about the genetics they inherited. Noah and I had too much in common. He was freakishly hypermobile, but he had no pain from it. Just a bunch of the weird add on EDS stuff. He was like, the last Zebra standing in our house most days. He was more sturdy. The rest of us are not. Our joints melt like butter on a hot day. They simply don’t function as well as one might hope. I don’t want to get into all the rest of it in super great detail. Vertigo, passing out, immunocompromised… this is the vague overview.
I live in a house full of people who rarely have days when they feel 100%. The baseline entry for us leaving our house and going anywhere is a lot of exercise. Table stakes for entry into community is a high level of fitness that we hold on to with our fingernails.
I am not getting to my personal fitness building these days. I have too much to do and I’m exhausted. It is showing in my decreasing ability to socialise because my body can’t get there.
And yesterday our wonderful cleaning lady quit. I get why. She was so scared we were going to be mad at her. Of course not! You are moving on to do the job you would prefer to be doing. You have spent a long time in training and now you don’t need to supplement with cleaning. Yay!! Good for you!
Shit fuck. We are screwed.
Honestly she comes about once a month because she’s terrified of being exposed to any kind of illness so if anyone in my house is even vaguely contagious she won’t come so sometimes we go 9 weeks without seeing her. So, like, we probably could find more reliable help. Maybe.
Hiring help is incredibly hard and I am not good at it. I did not come from the class of people who got help. Either you do it for yourself or you do without. Those are the options.
I can make everyone in this house work more. It is technically an option. If I force them to do a lot more cleaning they will have less ability to access their social life because they are so tired. Do you know what is incredibly fucking mentally abusive to young adults? Locking them in the house to clean more instead of having a life.
I literally, physically can’t do it all. My hands stop. If I push too hard I can’t do things like hold forks. It gets bad.
So at the end of the meeting yesterday we were all crying and not sure what to do. We were really upset and then half an hour after we stopped trying because we were too activated to look for solutions, that’s when we found out our help is quitting.
I am struggling with feeling like I have not done enough to “deserve” help. I haven’t fought my way to the top of NHS waiting lists for myself and my kids. I don’t have the full diagnosis list explanation for why some of sometimes spend a day in bed with vertigo so bad that we will fall and cause a head injury if we push our luck with walking. I am not so rich that I won’t notice the money being gone–I will have to make choices at this point to not pay for other things, but it seems like a good trade in many ways.
I have tried many times over the years to hire babysitters/cleaning help. I have had one really great babysitter and one really great cleaner out of more than a dozen attempts to hire people. This is harder than finding people to date like whoa.
In the past Noah and I fought about cleaners. I don’t want to have the kinds of kids who are incapable of cleaning up after themselves. Fuck that bullshit. My kids need to fucking know how to be a competent adult, thank you very much. Thing is, they know how. It just uses a lot of their sparse energy. On days when we catch up and do a lot of cleaning I can watch the fog of exhaustion settle over their faces and I know they won’t be doing any kind of intellectual work for the rest of the day. They can’t focus.
What are my real priorities? Making sure they know how to clean no matter how terribly they feel? Or do I want them making progress towards work that might be more fulfilling down the line that will allow them to pay for the help they need. I think my kids will always need some help with the physically rough parts if they want to be capable of doing fun parts.
This is all hard to sit with. I don’t feel like I do enough work to justify an assistant. I only have 3 full time jobs, what a weak, whiny, ball sack of a human.
I had been feeling like things were going pretty well. Turns out me trying to cover for the folks who weren’t doing enough was failing to conceal how much was falling off the “done” list and the other people are getting upset about balance. Oh, well.
What we all want is for Noah to pick up his share. We would be fine.
We will never be fine again.
We need help and getting it is a high stress, time consuming activity. I am overwhelmed as fuck. I don’t know where in my schedule I am going to manufacture the time and energy to find help. It usually doesn’t go so great.
The last not quite fit was someone who was hard to schedule with every week and he’d show up and do about 40% of what I asked him to do and he did such a poor job I had to redo that 40%. I’m sorry when my kids clean more effectively than an adult by the time they are 10, I don’t want to pay the adult.
I don’t feel disabled enough to “deserve” the amount of help it would take for me to have a life where I got to actually relax at times. I don’t work for pay so spending family money to be even more useless feels like the kind of thing I want to eat the rich for.
I feel caught between a rock and a hard place.
The funny thing is, if the NHS was able to say, “Optimally for your disability it would be good if you had x hours of help because you need more rest” I would pay for it. It’s not that I need the help to magically arrive and be free. I just don’t know how to A) feel like I deserve it and B) find it.
I would be a better mother if I didn’t turn into an anxious mess at the thought of hiring help.
Sometimes, if I am feeling flippant, I think about the Scots who have told me how much they hate Trump and his mother. His mother was a Scot. She played a lottery game with the folks in her village. When she won big, she didn’t share the winnings as she was supposed to, instead she skipped town and went to the US.
I don’t want to steal a job from a local. I bought a house no one local was stupid enough to buy because it needs so much work. I am employing local crafts people. I would like to send even more money dubiously earned in the US over generations back into the Scottish economy.
Maybe there is some acceptable symmetry here?