HELP!
Most mornings, I’m up at 6 a.m.
- Back stretches.
- Pilates.
- Dog walk.
- Meditation.
- Meal prep.
- Kids’ training schedules.
- Work ready.
- House clean.
- Mind sharp.
- Body strong.
That was my rhythm. That was me — the matriarch, the organiser, the doer. Everything planned, everything prepped, everything under control.
Until now.
The Dingle Debacle
Every year, we head to Dingle — five families, a mess of cousins, noise, chaos, and craic. It’s a ritual we all look forward to. This year, there was a plan too: the girls wanted to jump off the piers — one of those brave seaside rites of passage. They needed wetsuits.
Oh, sweet suffering God.
You haven’t truly tested your patience until you’ve tried to get teenage girls sorted with wetsuits. The timing. The drama. The “I do have it” followed by “It’s not in my bag!”
And I’m stuck at home, orchestrating from a horizontal position. A mother on wheels and WiFi.
Motherhood Meets Recovery
It was one of those mornings full of dysregulation — on everyone’s part. Tempers flaring, voices rising, and me lying in the middle of it all, trying not to scream.
Trying to get a preteen and a teen out the door with the right gear, in the right mood — while lying down and watching the chaos spiral — was like trying to conduct a marching band from under the floorboards.
They said they had wetsuits. I asked them to bring them in so we could check.
- “I DO have it!”
- “Well then WHERE IS IT?”
- “It WAS here!”
- “Shh!”
- “Ugh.”
Stomps. Eye rolls. Door slams.
Grumpy faces were followed by sudden hyper bursts of energy. Bickering. Then hugging. Then bickering again. I felt like I was standing in the eye of a very hormonal storm.
Recovery Isn’t Just Physical
Maybe that’s the lesson here. Recovery isn’t just about the leg, the cast, or the crutches. It’s mental, emotional, and logistical. It’s about holding the centre while everything else is shifting.
It’s surrendering to the mess. It’s finding the flashes of connection, humour, and humanity amid chaos. It’s remembering that even when the morning feels like an emotional rollercoaster, the small wins — like finding a wetsuit — are still victories.
And if I can survive the teenage drama, pre-trip panic, and wetsuit hunt while lying on a hospital bed, maybe I’m doing okay.
The Chaos and the Connection
Family life during recovery is like a pendulum — swinging wildly between highs and lows. One moment, you’re laughing at a ridiculous argument over neoprene. The next, you’re ready to pull your hair out.
And that’s life. Recovery doesn’t pause for your family, your trips, or your routines. It keeps moving. But so do you. You adapt. You survive. You find humour where you can. And you realise: the chaos isn’t the enemy — it’s the backdrop for connection, growth, and resilience.
Lessons from a Heap on Wheels
- Recovery requires patience — for yourself and everyone around you.
- Humor is essential. You will survive teenage drama, lost wetsuits, and door slams.
- Connection matters. Hugs, eye-rolls, and even the chaos are part of family life.
- Mental strength counts as much as physical strength. Recovery isn’t just about the body — it’s about navigating the emotional storm.
So here I am: the matriarch, flattened on a skateboard, surviving Dingle prep one lost wetsuit at a time. And if I can find a wetsuit in that chaos, we’re doing just fine.
