No spunk. No spirit. No sass.
She's just a sweet little cling-a-roo.
Everywhere I go in the house, she trails after me pathetically crying -
"Mama. I want lap. Mama. I want Mama lap."
My lap has apparently become a mecca of healing and comfort.
(As any worthy lap should be...)
I actually take her incessant desire to sit on my lap as a huge compliment, despite the fact that it is really inconvenient when I need to say - use the bathroom, or wash the dishes. There have been a lot of meltdowns to manage this week.
The whole thing is just sad. Anyone that knows our two year old in person (and even most of those who have been reading this blog during the last year!) knows that she is typically a little ball of fire and fun.
I hate seeing her so peaked and wan. She's lost a lot of weight this week and you can really see it in her face.
Tomorrow morning I'm due to take her in for another chest x-ray.
If it turns out that she does have yet another pneumonia, that will mean treatment - and hopefully a fast turnaround.
Either way, I'm pulling for her to feel better asap.
* * *
What I've noticed this week, with not one but two of my children feverish and feeling ill, is how much calmer I seem to be about all of this than I would have been a year ago.
I remember this post I wrote last December, when I was literally sitting next to my daughter's bedside with tears in my eyes writing about her first bout of pneumonia. Almost out of my head with worry about her.
Yet one year later we're staring down the third time she's dealt with pneumonia... and somehow I've learned to take it all in stride.
The urge to freak out isn't really there right now.
I believe that my kid is going to be fine.
I'm not worried about taking her to the local Children's hospital... I've had to rush a child there three times this year (my son) and at this point the drive just seems par for the course. Not a big deal.
In fact, the more we've dealt with health issues over the past few years, the less importance they've had in my mind.
I guess I have always feared the things I did not understand.
The Unknown.
I have feared the unknown and harbored tremendous anxiety about situations over which I had no control.
Maybe this is because I grew up pretty white-bread and didn't really have any significant challenges as a kid.
Real life lay a little bit outside of the boundaries of my personal knowledge then. My brushes with it as a youngster - like when a close 15 year old friend died of leukemia - made everything I didn't understand seem so mythical, intense, dark and surreal.
Two decades later though, I guess I've finally wrapped my brain around the reality of some of the situations that I've dreaded the most:
- Death of a close friend
- Rejection by a lover
- Death of a parent
- Undergoing surgery
- Dealing with the injuries and illnesses befalling my children
- Grappling with serious challenges to my own health
- Facing an uncertain future
...and somehow, in every situation, the band plays on.
Not to say that everything has always worked out in the end.
That would be a big fat lie.
A lot of bad things have happened. A lot of endings were sad, not happy.
Yet, here I am... and things are okay.
Better than okay, in fact ~
I'm actually so grateful, so blessed by all of the hardships that have come my way in 35 years.
Each one of them served to make me a better person. A more devoted partner. A more patient mother. A more genuine friend. A better listener, and a woman of deeper faith.
Is it cheesy to admit that I needed this growth?
I would never have wished to learn so many hard lessons in such a short span of time... but I can guarantee that I really needed to go through every single challenge.
When my children are older and read through this blog, I hope they will not only feel that they've gotten to know me better - understanding my particular set of beliefs, idiosyncrasies and quirks - but that they can actually track my growth as a mother and woman throughout an entire calendar year.
We've all grown this year, as individuals and as a family.
Tonight, maybe because we've simply experienced more of life, the unknown seems less bleak and severe... more hopeful and friendly.
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