To Be The Best Caregiver I Can Be

November is National Family Caregivers Month. My fifteen-year-old son Tate has autism and my youngest daughter has special needs as well. Currently, I am also helping to care for my elderly parents. I was asked to write a post about being a caregiver. I took a stab at it and read it back to myself. I had written an essay that sounded like I was having a pity party about the all the time my kids’ disabilities have stolen from me. So, I tried again. The second attempt was an essay comparing the amount of time and energy I spent raising my typically developing children to the amount of time and energy it is taking to raise my special needs children. It really did not reflect the way I feel about being a caregiver at all. My third attempt was also sent to the trash bin.

It occurred to me then: I had been trying to write about the hardships of being a caregiver. There is no doubt it is hard. Everyone knows that. But what good caregiver dwells on all the negatives involved? Did my own parents keep track of all the times I woke them at night? Or vomited in my bed? Did they begrudge the money they spent on my education? Of course not. Good parents are not keeping score of all the difficulties they have with their child, or the sacrifices they make.

A good caregiver is a good one because he does the things he needs to do willingly. So I made a list. I made a list of the things that help me to be the best caregiver I can be in hopes that it might encourage others to be the best caregiver they can be.  

1 Laugh. I laugh when things are funny, and they often are. There have been times I have laughed to keep from crying. Remember to laugh. A sense of humor can make all the difference.

2 Smile. It’s hard not to be happy when I have a smile on my face, and it is hard to become angry or be unkind when I am smiling. A smile can totally change another person's response too. 

3 Sing. Just like smiling, it is so hard to be anything but happy when I am singing. Music is such a valuable tool. 

4 Cry. If laughing, smiling, and singing are not going to work today, a good cry might. But if you find yourself crying often and unable to cope, talk to a professional. 

5 Share. Find someone who will listen. Online support groups can be helpful when no one is physically close. I blog and have built my own sort of support group of followers who help me far more than I help them. 

6 Find a cheerleader. I have many cheerleaders. Some of them are part of my physical family and some are part of my church family. Some are online friends. Do not go to discouragers for advice or for cheering up. Do not go to the support groups that mostly talk about the hardships and the negatives when you are in need of encouragement. Surround yourself with positive people. 

7 Set goals, but set reasonable ones. It is helpful to have short-term goals. Some of my goals are very small and easily achieved in a day's time, while others might take a few days. It might even help to write goals down and be able to cross them off as they are completed.

8 Prepare yourself. It is much easier to prevent problems before they develop, than to fix them after they occur. I try to anticipate the things that might go wrong, and put a plan in place for the “just in cases”. When it is time for appointments or meetings, go prepared. Make and take a list of questions and concerns.

9 Control yourself. I cannot control others, but I can control myself and how I react to others. Remember that you are responsible for you.  Do not make matters worse by speaking in anger, or saying something you may later regret. There will be times when those around you who you had hoped would help, will not. There may be times when you feel resentful, if not because your child is disabled or your elderly parents are sick, then because the ones you thought you could count on to help, do not. But the kids still have to be fed, the sick still need to be looked after, and the trash still needs hauled out to the curb. It is up to you. You cannot control those around you, but you can control yourself.

10 Dismiss yourself. Sometimes I need a few minutes to regroup. When everything around you seems to be falling apart, take a deep breath, count to ten, say a prayer, bite your tongue, or walk away.

11 Forgive yourself. I make mistakes. I make a huge mess of things sometimes, and you will too. Nobody is perfect.  ♫ Let it go. Let it go. ♫  

12 Do not lie to yourself. Face your truths. Dwelling on the things you wish you could change will only make you miserable. Also, pretending problems are not really there does not work. Roll up your sleeves and do what you can to make things better. The grass is not really greener next door. That neighbor or friend who seems to have the perfect life with the perfect kids and a pocket full of money, has his own struggles too. 

13 Reward yourself. Whether it is something small like a soda, or something more substantial like a night out, I find that it helps if I have something tangible to look forward to at the end of the day or at the end of the week. 

I'm not an expert. I have made plenty of mistakes, but these are the things that help me to do what I do best. Perhaps these things could help you to be the best caregiver you can be too. 

Writing this has helped me to remember that being a caregiver is a privilege and a worthwhile and fulfilling job.

If you liked this post, you might also like this one...  Stepping Up To The Challenge

Take Another Breath Daddy

Take another breath Daddy! Because as long as you are still breathing, you are still here with me. Take another breath.

Take another breath Daddy. I need you here. You are always strong when I am weak. I’m not sure I can be strong if you are not here to shore me up and encourage me.

Take another breath. I need to be able to ask your advice. I still have so much to learn from you. No one else’s opinion will matter to me in the same way yours has. I need your wisdom. Take another breath Daddy.

Take another breath. I cannot do all the things you do for me. I rely on you! You help me with things that are small to you but huge to me. You fix my broken furniture and change my flat tires. You help me take my dog to the vet and kill snakes for me. You plow the snow from my driveway. You have always been ready to come to my rescue with a ladder, a mower, a chainsaw, or your tool belt.

Take another breath. I have taken you for granted in the past. What will I do without you here? When you are watching I try hard to make you proud. Will I try as hard without you here? I’m afraid. Take another breath.

Take another breath Daddy. I need to hear your stories. I haven’t memorized all of them yet, even the ones you tell often. I need to hear them all again. I want to hear more about your childhood and your time in the army. I want to hear more about your years of farming and the adventures you had as a mechanic. Lately, you’ve told me a few I’ve never heard before! You might have a few more you haven’t shared with me yet. I need to hear more! I want to remember them all.

Take another breath. You need to make me laugh. I love your silly rhymes, and poems, and songs! They’ve made me smile my whole life. How does one guy have that many witty lines memorized? You have one for every occasion. And yesterday, when you were told what a short time you have left, you did it again. You joked with me about a silly regret and made me giggle in the midst of my grief. Please. Take another breath. For me. Take another breath.

Take another breath. Talk to me. I need to hear your voice. What if I forget what you sound like? You’ve always been just a phone call away. Take another breath.

Take another breath Daddy. I have been watching you for these past few days as you struggle to get enough air. I need you to take another breath because I am not as brave as you are. You do not cry. You are not afraid. I cry. I am afraid. I need you here to be brave for me. Take another breath. I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never lost my daddy before. I need you to help me get through this. Take another breath. Please. Take another breath.

Note: At the end of March, 2016 my dad was diagnosed with lung cancer. We were told he had weeks to live. He has defied the odds. This update is July, 2017 and the end is very near for him.

Mom and Dad's hands, April 8, 2016

Sydney and my dad at a cattle sale

My college graduation, 1985 

If you liked this blog post, you might also like these two: Choosing My Nursing Home and Don't Blink 

The Mother I Was and The Mother I Have Become

Have you ever heard the Indian fable about the seven blind mice and the elephant? Each of the mice explored a different part of the elephant and they each came away with a different description of the elephant. There was a moral to the story is a bit different than the moral to the story I want to tell today but the idea is somewhat the same. Ironically I have seven children in my story. I play the part of the elephant. Flattering, I know. 

All seven of my children would identify me as their mother. However, I am really not the same person to each one of them at all. If they were each asked to think back to their youngest memories and on into their elementary school years, they would have very different descriptions of their mother, yet they all had the same one. And if they were asked to describe the roles I play in their lives today, being all different ages, the descriptions would be vastly different.

My oldest four kids have memories of an energetic young mom who played kickball in the front yard, had Nerf gun wars, and could sit crossed-legged on the floor to dress a Barbie or build with Legos. They will remember a rule about movies. We only had G rated movies, no others were allowed. Their mom always seemed to have a toddler on her hip, and a baby on the way. She was always sleep-deprived and often grouchy because of it. The oldest would tell you that mom was strict and wanted to be obeyed immediately.  A clean house was very important to their mom and she cooked six nights a week.

The younger kids would probably listen to those stories and wonder just where their brothers and sisters had lived back then. These kids have never seen their mom kick a playground ball across the yard and run bases, shoot a Nerf gun, or sit cross-legged on the floor. The younger kids know an older mom who has issues with arthritis and moves pretty slow. They will remember a lot of nights when supper came from a can, a box, or a drive-thru window. And they will remember being able to watch a few PG rated movies while they were still in grade school. (Scandalous, I know.) Having an older mom is not the worst thing that could happen to a kid though. The younger kids will definitely remember a more patient mom who did not become stressed when the house was not clean or the kids did not obey the first time. Sure, I am the same person but… not really.

To two of my children I was a tutor and helped them with many of their assignments while the other kids will have little memory at all of mom sitting with them to do homework. It was not necessary. They managed quite well without help. Some of the kids loved to read and loved to be read to. Those children will recall lying in mom’s bed while she laughed hysterically at what Junie B Jones had just done. One of the boys was passionate about dinosaurs and he will remember that we spent a whole lot of time discussing those great beasts and trying to pronounce their names correctly. One of the girls was/is passionate about cows and tractors and we have spent many hours pouring over fun facts about farming and sitting at the cattle auction just for her pleasure.

The oldest children and the youngest two will remember a mom who volunteered in their classrooms in the primary grades and was often at the classroom parties. The children in the middle will not have those memories. The girls will remember a lot more play dates than the boys will as they played so quietly and did not require me to repair anything at the end of the day. The boys could definitely holler “discrimination” about this.

Five of the kids played baseball or softball in the summers when they were young and will have a picture in their mind of a mom in a lawn chair at practices, games, and tournaments. Two of the children will never associate their mother with a ball field at all. The oldest children will remember their mother having chickens that they had to help feed but not the younger ones. The older children will remember their mom taking them to swimming lessons but the younger children will remember a mom that taught them to swim in the pool we built in the backyard. Two of these kids might remember their mother with a joystick in her hand trying to learn to play video games. The rest of the children would say their mother had probably never held a joystick in her life. A couple of the children would remember a day their mother brought home eight different brands of hotdogs so they could have a blind taste test to settle a very important debate. Only one of the kids will have a memory of getting a pony on their birthday. That girl’s mom really came through for her!

All seven children will have some very similar memories. They will all be able to hear my voice in their mind, singing from the rocking chair. They will all remember their mom as their first Bible class teacher. They will all remember a mom who was crazy in love with their daddy.

I gave all seven children a good childhood but they did not all have the same childhood and I am learning to be okay with that. Not all my children had the same opportunity nor will they have all the same memories and has to be okay. I cannot recreate the older children’s childhood for the younger children, nor can I turn back the clock to make sure the older kids get every experience the younger children have now. Recently one of my oldest children returned home for a visit. He saw Lucky Charms in the pantry and did a double take. My rule for a lot of years was that I would not buy chocolate cereal or cereal containing marshmallows. He looked at me and said, “Mom. You’ve changed.” I said, “Yes. I have.”

I usually blog about autism or FAS but occasionally I like to talk about something else. If you liked this post then you might find the following to your liking as well. What Does A Good Mother Say?