Some days, the head, the belly, and the rest of the package don't align. I'm just saying, that's all. I used to hate the idea that stressors could contribute to migraines, that if only I made better appraisals I wouldn't suffer so many migraines. I felt it a personal flaw, a weakness.
I'm older, though, and either gained in wisdom or simply gotten more tired, but I no longer blame my appraisals of stressors for migraines occurring. No doubt, many of my migraines occur because situations demand more than my body can or wants to deliver, but that isn't weakness. I firmly believe I can face the challenges ahead, even when I don't want to face them. My body and my brain don't always agree with my mind's assessment, though.
My kids aren't the only ones who don't deal well with changes. Whether I was always as bad or not, I'd rather not admit. :-) Let's just say that five days off from school was not an easy transition for any of us. Rosie and I struggled with too many empty hours without clearly defined tasks and start and finish times. We don't do at all well with empty times. And if you know me, the more full my schedule, the happier I am (as long as these things occur inside my comfort zone!).
Last night and this morning were really tough on Rosie in particular, and Lily to a lesser degree. People did not want to go to bed. People did not want to get up, and one little one in particular did not want to go to school and get homework (Rosie). After we said she could wear her "A Monster Ate My Homework" tee, she was much improved in mood, though still not inclined to go to sleep. After nine at night, my patience for 'I'm lonely, I can't sleep issues' decreases, suffice it to say. After cuddles at 9:30 and a strong admonition that her little bum best not be seen outside her room again for the night, Rosie finally went to bed.
The morning rituals went about as expected, with itty-bitty meltdowns interspersed through the morning, and that was just me (I kid; it was mostly Rosie), and the girls got off to school on time with their dad dropping them off while I got ready for work, my migraine already in full swing. I'm just glad it's not the horrendous in-bed, non-functional one I had a few weeks ago. Instead, it's the typical hug-the-commode, hope-the-classes-go-by-fast kind (and make the most of the breaks in between).
It's an expected migraine, in other words, brought about by the change in schedule and demands. It's my Monday migraine. Fridays when the schedule shifts again, I'll almost certainly have one, too: my Friday migraine. Like clockwork, they signal to me that I, too, do not cope with change well, that my body, brain, and mind seek constancy, thrive on it, demand it. The migraines remind me that constancy is impossible: life, though rhythmic, can not be chained to a clock. We must adapt and learn to flow.
The irony that my autistic children with their need for constancy force me to loosen my need for constancy and be fully immersed in the moment is never lost on me. I wish, though, that I could deal with this looseness, this lack of constancy, with something other than migraines. Hah, perhaps that's my body's way of saying, here you go, here's your constancy: Monday and Friday migraines at your service!