Thursday, March 6, 2014

A Salute to Boring


                      Saturday is Feisty Pants'  birthday.  She'll turn eleven this year.  We'll have a small dinner with cupcakes.  (Cupcakes are the official food of celebrations according to Feisty Pants.)  The party will come later on when the grandparents come up from out of town.  We will celebrate both girls birthdays with a pizza and ice cream fueled family gabfest then.  We never were ones for those ginormous parties with clowns or ponies or anything.  First of all, all that crap is expensive and silly (and clowns are SCARY to children.  Whoever came up the cockamamie idea that kids like clowns in the first place???  That was some old fart who thought some kid would think it was cool.)  Secondly, it always seems to me that those elaborate parties are about the parents' egos and not the kids having a good time.  Kids will have a grand old time with some balloons and pizza.  We've never had a kids only party for FP.  When she was little, it was too difficult to arrange anything in advance. We simply never knew when she would be in a hospital.  I dreaded the thought having some other kid's parents change their crazy schedule around, only to call at the last minute and go "nevermind".  We did that enough with everybody else- therapists and doctors and our grown up friends.
                      Which is basically why we have come to like being boring.   Exciting is helicopters and CPR and paramedics and ambulances and policemen.  NO thank you.   I am truly grateful for every single contraption and procedure and awesome human being who played a part in rescuing and saving my youngest child over and over again.  I am grateful in depths that simply cannot be expressed in words or actions.  You all literally saved my baby and , in doing so, my very heart and soul. Repeatedly.  But if I never have an exciting moment again, I am okay with that. If you never have to come to my house and do it again. I am really ok with that.  My idea of a good time is sitting around at the end of a boring everday kind of day arguing over what to watch on netflix.  I crave those quiet in between moments where the most pressing work is finished and the next round hasn't started yet. Those moments when the daily chores are done, the kid is in her pjs and (in a perfect world) the animals are cuddled up to us and snoozing. That's heaven to a special needs kid's parent.
                       And, to the tell the truth, Feisty Pants, likes knowing things have a regular routine.  All kids do to some extent.  But if it was hard for us to never know when we would be calling the ambulance or packing to go to some out of town hospital, I cannot even really imagine what it must feel like to be her in those instances.  You feel like hell and can barely breathe- scary enough for someone who is just a little girl, but now there are sirens and strangers poking you with needles and sticking instruments in your face.  Worse still, they often take you away from your parents and don't understand you when you talk or cry.  Even more horrible, they wear masks and you can't even see their faces so maybe they are not even people after all.  (Ya know, I just think I figured out why she is obsessed with aliens.  A scary hospital stay must feel just like an abduction experience.)  So, I don't think she minds so much just sitting at home having people she knows and trusts come make a giant fuss over her.  Especially when they clap and sing and bring her cupcakes.  Although, now that she is older, she is much more interested in "stuff out ou Ummy".  (Stuff without YOU, Mom.)  So I should wait and see if she asks for a kid's only party.  If and when she does. she'll probably get it.  But no clowns.  Those creatures have got something WRONG with them

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