Arthritis Mom

We are finally home! The trip was good, my RA flare finally took that hike and just in time. I had my normal aches and pains but noting that knocked me off my feet. My stepson was an awesome help. We were at the airport 10 minutes when he turned to me, holding a bag, two pack n' plays and pulling another bag on wheels while I pushed the twins in the stroller with the diaper bag and a second bag, and asked me "How exactly were you planning to do this by yourself????" I told him I had no idea but it was obviously a crazy idea and I'm glad that his father had the good sense to realize that.

The babies did fairly well on the plane rides. It was really hard to land and take off two times each way, and changing plans in the middle was no easy task either. My general policy was that my stepson got to pick whichever baby seemed the happiest to sit with him, and a couple times we switched off when the baby he had got too cranky. There was only one of the four flights that we ended up one row apart from each other, so most of the time he was on his own dealing with toys and bottles. If we were keeping score I'd give him an A+.

I often get comments on the twins are or people ask questions like "are they really twins?" but it was interesting in the airport we didn't get much of that - I think most passengers were anxiously looking at the two babies and thinking to themselves "please don't let them be on my flight!" My stepson is over 6'1" so many times he was mistaken for being a new father. One flight attendant kept referring to him as "daddy" although he did his best to correct people along the way. One seat mate asked his age and commented "wow, you are really starting young!" and it took him a few minutes to realize what he meant before he said "wait, no, this is my little brother!"

My stepson got to see a little of small town Oklahoma life - he found a bike and went bike riding, he found some fishing supplies, made some of his own and caught a few fish - one was a 14" catfish! He went horseback riding, met some local rednecks and we showed him what a "double-wide" was.

It was happy and sad to see my grandmother. She's 93 years old and not doing too well. She did not recognize or understand who my sister and I were but she did notice we brought two babies and she loved seeing them. She tickled their feet and talked to them and went on and on about babies - I am glad she got to see them even if she doesn't know who they are. It's interesting and difficult to see the similarities between infancy and the end of life. They both need help for even the simplist self care tasks, their daily activities are dependant on what everyone around them is doing or planning, they have difficulty communicating, most of their communication is through yelling, crying, smiling or laughing. I was glad to see my grandmother mostly laughing even if I was not sure what she was laughing about.

I would have liked to see her more, if only we lived closer. But it felt great to get home last night - I love my home and my family. Having a chronic illness has made me appreciate life a little more (especially the good days) and given how long some of my grandparents have lived, and the fact people in general are living longer these days, it looks like I have a lot of living left to do.