Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Impending Arrival

On a recent visit to the hospital, I found this sign posted in the elevator.

"If you are displaying the symptoms of feeling dizzy, nauseous, have a headache, or a fever, please do not visit the hospital. And do not even think about it if you are under 18."

That's not exactly what it said, but it was close. I was lucky to be feeling well enough to visit the hospital. So if I had a fever or a headache and was there to see a doctor, would I have seen the sign in the elevator and turned and walked right out of the hospital? Or would I have whistled nonchalantly until I got to the doctor's office before I started sneezing? Where should I go if I really were sick? To the mall or the movies?

And Summy isn't even allowed to step into those doors. Thanks to H1N1, suddenly children are treated like litte germ-carriers. Which they are. But I'm still disappointed that Summy won't be there to see her baby brother right after he arrives.

She is the one who's waiting to see him, more than anyone else. She never passes by me, even when in a hurry, without a kiss and a hug for my tummy.

Two more weeks to go.

Friday, December 04, 2009

The Incredible Hulk

Today I was reading a headline on the computer about what kinds of people are the angriest. The first thing I thought was "People who have kids?"

It's ironic. They're the joys of your lives.

Mine definitely is the joy of mine. I was infinitely patient with her when she was a baby and a toddler. But as she grows up, I am much less so.

She is little, but has big feelings. She is defiant, and does not like to stand down from a confrontation. She is also a sweet, affectionate angel. But that is hard to remember sometimes when this pint-sized stubborn package stands up and defies my orders, and even does the opposite of what I ask sometimes.

It is futile to have a power struggle with this one, and infuriating.

I clicked on the headline about which kind of people are the maddest. Sure enough, the second on the list in the article is people who have children at home. I don't usually believe anything I read, but I believe this one :).

It's not the kind of constant anger that eats you up, but the kind of sudden explosion that comes when you find a child who is supposed to be cleaning up her room, dumping more toys on the floor instead.

I am happier than ever, but I have also done more yelling about trivial things in the past three years than the rest of my life. I know I'll regret it. I regret it already. I know better and I keep trying to be better.

But meanwhile, when I find my veins popping, my color turning green, and in general starting to look and sound like the incredible Hulk, at least I know that I am not the only parent who is doing it. Am I?

What do I know?

I am writing a story for Summy (don't ask, it's a long story). As I finish a chapter, I read it to her.

So I was reading the first chapter, and I came to this line I wrote. A little girl is thinking it: "Mother knows a lot of things, but most of the time she does not know what I am talking about. A lot of grown-ups are like that." I was surprised by how vigorously she nodded and agreed.

I had just written down what I remember thinking when I was a kid. I did not realize that Summy thought it too. History apparently does repeat itself.