Archive for May, 2005

May 31, 2005

I will probably be doing a lot of yoga breathing–and a LOT of drinking

In January, I wrote about how Henry had four cavities. FOUR! CAVITIES! Oh god. And how he was going to have them filled, in June, the day before his birthday.

Friday is his birthday. Thursday is his surgery. Tomorrow is the ‘pre-operative visit’ with the dentist.

There is not enough wine in the world to take the edge off this.

The plan for the next few days is this: Henry and I will go see the dentist at 8:00 tomorrow morning. My parents (god love them) are flying in tomorrow afternoon (ostensibly because it’s H’s birthday and of course we need some help with Charlie on Thursday, but let’s face it, my mother is as freaked out about this as I am. I can tell from her voice on the phone every time we talk, which has been EVERY DAY for nearly the last week. For no reason. Except that we are both overwhelmingly worried about this whole thing). On Thursday morning, H and Wade and I have to be at the hospital at 6:30 am. We opted for the early EARLY check-in time because Henry is not allowed to eat or drink ANYTHING (not even water! or they will cancel the proceedure! or so they keep telling me! very firmly!) after midnight. His ‘proceedure’ will start at 8:45 and will last about an hour–BUT, because they have to put him under, we are planning on two or three hours in recovery after that.

And thus the locus of my worry. I’m fine with the teeth (well, not FINE fine, but he actually only has two full-blown cavities, and two coming on, so really it’s not all that bad–the dentist will remove the dead stuff and ‘cap’ the teeth with silver caps–very chic–and he will be good to go) but the anesthesia–that’s a different story. And right now I don’t even know what the hospital proceedure is–can I stay with him until he’s asleep? Will they give him something orally to knock him out before they start an IV? Will they give me anything to take the edge off? (Okay, I suspect not, but I can hope, yes?)

Then there are my really big fears, about all the things that MIGHT happen while he’s under, things I am so afraid of that I can hardly even think about, and certainly can’t write about. I had a horrible dream on Sunday night that I went to get a haircut and spent hours chatting with the stylist, and lost track of time and forgot to go pick Henry up at school, and then when I finally realized I was late, I couldn’t find my car, and . . . and just at the absolute worst part of the dream, when I was fighting to wake up, Henry came and got in bed with me, and pushed me off my pillow and said, ‘Let’s get up and make french toast and see what’s on TV’ and I was so very happy he was there.

So I’m trying to think about Friday and his birthday and his Spiderman cake and the cd player Wade is out buying him right now and not about what might happen. But forgive me, Internet, if I don’t write much the next few days–it’s pretty much all I can do just now to keep it together from one moment to the next.

Posted by Susan 6:25 pm • Uncategorized • 2 Comments

May 29, 2005

the Zen of children

Recently I’ve been blathering on about spending THE ENTIRE SUMMER with my children. In response to one such blathering, M&Co wrote, ‘I admire your plan for the summer. Some days I don’t even like my kids very much and can’t imagine spending all day every day with them.’ This, as they say, got me thinking.

I love my kids, a lot, let me just say that up front. And I feel very fortunate to be able to stay home with them, especially since we are also able to do things like pay private school tuition and the have the lawn guy and the housekeeper and drink Starbucks coffee every day on one income. I have, as a total stranger pointed out recently, a very nice life.

But let me also say that the company of small children is not exactly the most intellectually challenging or stimulating. My kids are almost-five and almost-three; they talk about superheros (which superhero wears what; which superhero has what power; which superhero could beat which other superhero in a race), the antics of Bob the Builder and his crew (Henry likes to recount the plots of videos we have JUST WATCHED TOGETHER ten minutes ago, FOR THE TWO HUNDREDTH TIME), and what animals might bite you if you got too close (somehow Charlie got the idea that birds bite, so now he goes around our yard yelling, ‘Hi, birdy! Don’t bite me!’). Small children (or at least the small children who live at my house) like repetitition–the same stories over and over, the same puzzles over and over, the same games–played the EXACT same way–over and OVER. It is wearing and, frankly, often unpleasant.

I think I have written this before, but I’ll write it again: there is a kind of Zen to life with small children. Repetition of mundane tasks can be an opportunity for mindfulness, which is a step on the path to enlightenment. I believe this about many everyday things; for me, there is a real Zen quality to laundry, for example, especially ironing (I love to iron–I find it soothing). And I can see how this is true of caring for children. After all, meeting the basic needs of a child is both mundane and thought-provoking (why is Henry so fascinated by the order of narratives? why DOES Charlie think birds bite?). But to try to be mindful at EVERY SINGLE MOMENT with these children is, for me, nearly impossible (I’m out after about fifteen minutes of structured meditation as well). Eventually I just want to be alone, or at least to have some quiet. I don’t want to create thoughtful answers to their questions or help them get a drink of water or try to recall the details of the last scene of The Incredibles. I just DON’T WANT TO.

And so sometimes I don’t really like my children either. I love them, and my heart would break if anything happened to them (my heart does break, in fact, every time they are sick or hurt or sad or angry or . . . ). And that makes me sad, because they are wonderful children, and I wish I could like them all the time, not just most (98%?) of the time.

But I suspect I am not alone in this, although I wonder how many mommies will say, ‘Sometimes I don’t like my kids.’ I am impressed with M for saying so in her comment on this site.