Kind Of Like Vacation

It’s Monday.  That means this week is now real and surgery is imminent.  I’m going through my mental checklist.  (When will I ever learn to write this shit down?  My Mom brain is a virtual sieve.)  Get to the grocery store, the dry cleaner, and… damnit, I already forgot the rest of the errand-y things.  I want to layout the big girl’s school clothes for the week because it will make it that much easier for everyone to facilitate the morning routine.  I need to organize the snack cabinet and the refrigerator, throwing out old things or the healthy crap I bought in the hopes that my kids would all of the sudden enjoy fruits and vegetables instead of cereal bars and pretzels.

But I don’t want to spend my time doing any of that stuff.  I want to be with my girls for the next few days until I go back into the drug-riddled home that is the electric recliner in my bedroom. I can stress about all of the minutia, but it doesn’t do anyone any good.  I know that all of that stuff can be done by my incredible support system (my husband, my parents, my mother-in-law, and the family and friends who have all so generously offered to do it all for me).  

I used to worry about how the girls would react to having me incapacitated for a week or two.  When I told my big girl this weekend that “Mommy is having surgery again this week, so …”, she finished the thought for me (quite animatedly, I must say). “So… you’re going to sit here in the chair and maybe in bed sometimes.  And Nanny and PopPop and Gammy are going to come and take care of us, right?!?!”  She knows the drill.  The little one, who is super attached to me, might not enjoy this as much as her big sister, but that’s the great thing about kids.  They are adaptable.  They might fight the change in the beginning, but it doesn’t take long before they accept it and then make it fun.  She will soon realize (as her sister obviously already has) that Mommy having surgery means going to the frozen yogurt store pretty much everyday, new toys to play with courtesy of her grandparents, drawing with markers instead of furniture-safe crayons, and loose bedtimes.  It’s like vacation with the added comfort of knowing Mommy is just one room away.  Sounds kind of awesome for everyone.

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