My day with Miss M:
First, she yells for me this morning and I'm busy and kind of ignoring her and then I realize she's yelling, "Mommy, I can't walk!" I run to find her hunched over on the stair landing and she says her legs are "wobbly" - our word for paralyzed. She experiences paralysis in her left arm after seizures for a minute or two, but having it in her legs is different. I carry her down and she sits with me for a few minutes until she feels better, then we proceed with our morning: off to the donut shop.
As I'm driving her to school, I lament that we'll have no time for dinner since we pick C up from school at 5:00, deliver M to occupational therapy at 5:45, then N to dance at 7:00. I'm horrified that we'll have to eat dinner in the car. "Oh yeah, just like breakfast," she points out, donut in hand. Yeah, thanks, Dude. Am I really feeding my children twice today while driving? (At least I'm not breastfeeding while driving.)
After school, she's playing Wii and I tell her I need to walk down to meet N's bus, and I'll be right back. I walk down and wait for the bus and greet N, who it turns out has two older kids as escorts and didn't need me at all. Then I turn around to see that Miss M has joined me at the bus stop, having crossed two streets alone and traveled the very sketchy street (the one we live on!) that I don't want her older sister to walk alone. She's feeling pretty good.
Tonight when I run N to her dance class, I tell Miss M she can watch an episode of Glee. When I return home 15 minutes later she asks, "How did that cheerleader get pregnant?" If you watch Glee, you'll understand why I think she's asking about premature ejaculation in a hot tub and the consequences thereof. I quickly realize she just needs the basics. I ask her first if she knows what sex is and she gives me the definition of monogamy, "It's like when you're in love but just only with that one person. Alone." OK, nice start. I reel it all off: penis, vagina, naked, touching, fun, feels good, love, sperm, egg etc. - I have to cover it quickly to retrieve N from dance on time.
At bedtime, I read to her a chapter in which one character is identified by the name Polack. Because he's Polish, yo. That teachable moment comes and goes with no comment from me. Time for lights out.
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3 comments:
Tough day. You're a trooper. Erma's got nothing on you.
None of my usual smart-assery for this post. You're simply the gold standard for mothers, and I love you.
That is so scary! I think about how much I freak out any time I see Rosie just getting a cold sore on her little lip (I know, pathetic), and my heart goes out to you and Miss M.
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