There are days when as soon as I wake I feel it beckoning. Reaching to me with outstretched hands, welcoming my misery, telling me to indulge and give in. A migraine, though off on the distant horizon, is trying to come back. Sneaking its way into a weak moment. After a restless night, where I couldn’t string two hours of sleep together at one time, it makes its move. And it’s appealing. The thought of giving in, having an excuse for crabbiness, an excuse to lay on the couch and try to ignore the duties that come with being a stay at home mom. It whispers sweet nothings of how it’s going to try to help and get me to close my eyes for a few minutes more, that the pain will be worth the rest. Slump your shoulders. Close your eyes. Ignore the world. It’s worth it.

But it’s not. Nothing is worth that pain. And the pain that comes after realizing how many minutes, hours, days have gone by where I’ve succumbed and have let my kids watch movies all day long. Have said that I did not have the strength to be their mother. Have let my mind and body gone to waste because it was the easy way.

So this morning, after few moments of sleep and consoling a crying baby were patched together, it beckoned. And I was this close to taking it up on its offer. I put off my shower, waiting until my husband left for work to decide what today would bring. It wasn’t a shower.

We packed up and went for a drive.

I love driving. Strapping the kids into their carseats, stopping to get a hot drink and a treat, hitting the road for a few moments where the kids can’t reach each other and I’m in control of the wheel. Music, beautiful scenery, and a little bit of peace. Moments to think and pray and compose. Thankfully my children are the best passengers, occasionally drifting off for a few moments, but most of the time they watch as the world goes by. We look for train tracks, Christmas lights, and horses. We drive through the more populated areas until we reach our areas country, speckled with horses wearing blankets to keep warm, and haystacks with a slight snow covering. We drive the loop which our car could take us without anyone behind the wheel. We drive until the fear is gone, replaced by clarity and a plan for the day.

Strength doesn’t always come easily, or at all at times; but when it’s there and I have a choice, I chose to drive.


Filed under Uncategorized

12 responses to “Drive

  1. hisfirefly

    What wisdom is displayed in your choice today! May you be blessed with His comfort and peace as you continue to seek His face and His will for each moment.

    As for me, I’m about to go out into the frigid air that surrounds us, and… drive.

  2. Aw, honey. I’m sorry you’re dealing with migraines. We should email – I had them years ago but not anymore, thankfully.

    Beautifully written post, my dear. Be well.

  3. liz

    well done, mama! good for you for taking care of yourself…that has been the hardest lesson for me to learn; that i must take care of myself before i can take care of others. try not to beat yourself up over days on the couch, you do deserve those as well. and allow yourself to feel proud of your choice for today! you rock!!!

  4. It’s too bad you have migraines. I didn’t realize you could fight off the pain with your will. That’s a pretty good trick you have. Usually, with my migraines, the only thing that works is a dark room and absolute quiet. I’ve not found that pain killers work well for migraines, and usually driving (especially in bright daylight) makes it worse. Good luck with the migraines. I’ve also had Evan sit in front of too many movies due to bad Fibro days, but sometimes there’s nothing else to do. Take care.

  5. This is a beautifully written post, Corinne. I’m sorry to read about your migraines. To me this story was also more fundamentally about the choices we parents make every day – to put away some part of ourselves (whether it be a bad part, like a physical ailment, or a good part, like an interest in reading something other than Dr. Seuss) and make our way through the day as a parent. Because the choice isn’t always there to lay down and give in, is it?

  6. Oh how I hear you today, my friend. I’ve been taking deep breaths all day, trying to make the choice to just keep going when I feel awful. I’ve totally lost my cool a couple of times, but for the most part, I’m pulling that “going for a drive strength” from somewhere and I’m thankful to not give in.

    Beautiful post.

  7. I understand that pain all too well. Stupid migraines. It seems I battle them more during the wintertime. I also love drives and fresh air helps more than anything (well, Excedrin helps too, but I try my best not to take it).

  8. Migraines are NOT fun…I get them too. I hope you are feeling better soon!!!

  9. Oh, how we stay-at-home mothers know this feeling (although being a working mom now, I feel that way about my job). I’m glad you found something nice to do instead. 🙂 You wrote this so beautifully.

  10. I’m so sorry to hear that you’re still stuggling with the migraines. =( I’ve only had a handful in my life, but they put me down for the count when I do get one. Being able to push through it, and to continue to do what you need to do as a mother despite the pain, is so admirable. I’m afraid I’d just be sacked out on the couch.

    On another note…I love the times Sean falls asleep in the car, and I can just drive. Just drive, think, pray, breathe, and be.

  11. I admire you for being able to push through! Sometimes, especially in the winter when I’m feeling lousy, I just want to let myself lie on the couch, but when I choose to get up the day is always better for everyone. Thanks for that reminder. And could you repose in January during the time when it’s really hard to make the right decision??!

  12. Pingback: I wasn’t going to complain… « Trains, Tutus and Twizzlers

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s