I am the Bubble Popper

There are days I hate being a realist…Sometimes I wish I could just let go and sail through life believing that no matter what happens, everything will be okay. Being a realist makes it hard to surrender to my faith, which, in turn, makes me feel guilty. Well, more guilty, because the realist also gets to feel guilty about being the one who pops everyone else’s bubbles. I don’t pop bubbles out of meanness or jealousy and definitely not joy. It’s not a job I relish and certainly not one for which I ever applied.

Sometimes the bubbles I get to pop are quite small and are easily forgotten, others are pretty huge and leave messes behind, no matter how careful I try to be. We have a couple pretty large bubbles growing around here right now…Jen may have an opportunity to live in Italy for over a month this summer. Free. She’s also started working as an Arbonne Consultant to raise funds for the foundation she created for kids with invisible disabilities. I’m working really hard to keep these bubbles cushioned, and trying to figure out out to support them so that they eventually get unbreakable shells. I often fear that Jenna is afraid to let bubbles even begin to form. It’s easier than having them popped and feeling disappointment over and over again.

Yesterday I had to choose between lying and popping a bubble…talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place. Jen wanted me to agree that she’s had a really good week. I wanted to, but I just couldn’t. You see, she has no recollection of the seizures that render her unconscious or cause the amnesia that have her trying to run away from me. Bless her heart, for her, a good week is one that she gets out of the house for a few hours here and there, that her pain level is manageable, that she is able to read/write/comprehend when she wants to, that she is able to talk on the phone and spend time making plans. A “good” week is all relative when you’re only used to having bad weeks.

Is keeping her grounded in reality fair to her? Should I keep reminding her that right now she’s no where close to being independent? I think deep down she knows it, but she wants so much to be done with this episode in her life and is so incredibly hopeful and determined. I am her mom and I want her to be happy and to see a life beyond the Lyme-colored nightmare that has already stolen so much from her. But, I am her mom and I have to look out for her and keep her safe. So what do you do?

Right now, I’m choosing to be the realist and I pray that someday she’ll forgive me for popping her bubbles. That doesn’t mean I won’t help her try to protect and save some bubbles or even try to form some new ones…After all, I am her mom, and realist or not, my most important job is making sure my kids are happy.


1 Response so far »

  1. 1

    Leslie said,

    I can identify with so much that you write….Although my daughter suffers greatly, she does not have seizures or amnesia. I feel for your daughter- and you!

    I somehow gave you the wrong address for my blog. Here is the correct link:


    Take care!

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