Migraine for Mom

As I rolled out of bed this morning, my head lingered behind. As I made my coffee, I wasn’t sure it was even attached to my neck. When I concentrated on it I recognized the pulsing thump, thump, thump, right above both eyebrows spanning low across my forehead.

Back when I was a twenty-something, busily spinning my wheels against other twenty-something rats in the race, a migraine (the worst kind of headache) would come along to knock me backward in my boots. At the time I didn’t equate exhaustion (and burning the candle at both ends) with the pain. It would be years before I saw my body as a connected part of my whole being.

Eventually the migraines went away, and for over a decade I’ve been migraine free.

A migraine is something you never forget.

Though there’s lots of information about the cause (certain foods and additives, direct or bright lights, sleep disturbances), mine always resulted from stress, and possibly hormones, too.

But denial about this morning’s obvious prognosis led to three cups of coffee, a less than enthusiastic blog post, and four Advil, before accepting that I was in for a rough day.

I went back to bed and slept from 9:30 to 1:00.

I drove to the store to pick up some healthy foods, and then sat in the car pool line, never taking off my sunglasses.

When the kids got home we all got into pajamas and climbed into bed. The three of us fell asleep from 4:00 until six (thank goodness for full day Kindergarten).

We ate dinner in bed, and are currently plugged in as the sun goes down; more sleep is on the horizon.

I thought I was doing just fine.But yesterday as I withdrew my ATM card and receipt, and then drove away without my money, I could have predicted today’s less than stellar outcome.

I’ve got three businesses going. Kids to care for. Bills to pay. It’s a juggling routine, but all of my balls have been flying high.

Nothing had gone splat until today when mom went splat, and everything else had to be put on pause. Maybe if I were honest I’d admit that I’ve been eating in my car way too often (bad), and not exercising enough (bad, bad). Maybe if I admitted that I knew I’d been putting myself last (bad, bad, bad), but my fear of letting the other balls drop would lead to uncertainty and possible failure when there isn’t room for such things.


Mom needs to take care of herself. Mom needs to slow down, and not worry so much. Mom needs to put herself first before kids, or money, or work.  

No more migraines for mom.

Just thinking about it gives me a headache.