When I feel overwhelmed, I just want to shut down. Can’t keep my eyes open. Its hard to breathe deep and I want to hide in my bed. This feeling scares me, because my usual response to stress is to jump into action. But not with overwhelm. We are only 10 days into this crazy month. The end of May means the end of school, end of Campbell’s hockey, many less commitments, projects, appointments and activities. Perhaps being overwhelmed this early is going to give me perspective for the rest of the month.
I’m fine. Everything is fine. Just sharing with y’all, because I know some of us are in the same boat. I’m here with a life vest, and an afternoon caffeinated beverage.
Most recently, I’m defined as Cooper’s mom. Before that I was just Campbell’s mom. Before that I was Brian’s wife, a daughter, a sister, a cousin - you get it. Life has changed. My 5 year old son Cooper has a rare, degenerative, genetic disease. My 8 year old daughter Campbell is our “typical” kid.
Here I am addressing all the stuff that goes through my head as we progress on our rare disease journey. It’s mostly the hard stuff. The fun stuff is in all the pics on Instagram and stories and check ins on Facebook. Here is where life gets real.
Last summer I saw Andy Grammer in concert for the first time. It was an upbeat, super-fun show! At one point he slowed down to perform “Good Parts”. And I couldn’t help but cry when I heard it. That’s it. “Show me where it hurts, but don’t leave the Good Parts out.” I needed to show where it hurts. If you’d like to see the Good Parts too, follow me on Instagram, @caktippett
View all posts by Christine Tippett
Rare Mom Life 