Cranky Mom Blues

          So as I type this, we are sitting in the middle of a dentist's office watching Feisty Pants act as if she is being waterboarded.  She just loves the dentist. Goo is busy wrestling her into a good position where she is accessible to the dental assistants and yet cannot slug/pinch/kick them.  At least in theory. In reality, it's more akin to wrestling a squid, a squid that can bite, pinch, kick, thrash and screech.  I perform my usual oh so helpful task of guardian of the suction machine, holder of extra paper towels, and temporary office decoration.   This is a great dental office, so they will be kind and quick and not even complain when her aim is true.   And yet no matter how long it takes, it certainly feels like eons while she thrashes and shrieks.  

             I have not much to do, except sit here feeling unhelpful.  So I have time to think of all the things I wish the universe has but doesn't. Like changing tables for kids bigger than 35 pounds. (Go ahead try to change a kid in pull ups when they are 12 years not 12 months.  Bathroom floors are disgusting. I won't put my purse on one, let alone my kid.  FP passed getting changed on my lap 11 years ago.)   Toothpaste and fluoride treatments in flavors my kid likes. (They make vodka in whipped cream flavor.  Why not fluoride?   You can get latex gloves in banana flavor. Why not toothpaste?)  Mostly I sit around in moments like these and wish the medical profession as a whole researched cures instead of treatments.  I long for the day when there is either a stem cell treatment for CP or, at the very least,  a quick solution for the spasticity that contorts her muscles and limbs and makes her life painful on top of difficult.  I also wish for a roomba like coffee maker, that would follow me around and dispense lattes on command no matter where I am, kinda like a labrador crossed with a barista.  (We try to schedule appointments first or last thing so we give up less sleep.  This one is unbearably early.  I am so cranky I don't even like ME right now.)

              Really, I am just whiny.  It's a dentist appointment not an ER visit.  She is not even close to sick.  They are not hurting her.  Feisty Pants is merely pissed at the world and not afraid to let us know.  But some days just seem longer than others.  In a few hours, we will be home, done with this for at least six months and almost caught up with our daily routine.  But I do want those who don't travel down life's roads with a special needs kid to know that sometimes it is a wee bit tiring.  So, please, have a little mercy on us. Kindness doesn't cost a thing and saves us cranky parents a lot of bail money.