(Almost) Two years later…

Yup, still not writing every day. Still not a perfect mom. Charts are gone (although occasionally G will bring up the idea) and we are basically doing the best we can. I recently had a little nervous breakdown of sorts and one of the things that came out of it was that I really need to start writing again. So THIS time, I’m really going to do it. It will be my nighttime routine. OR early morning moment. OR lunchtime stress reliever. Whatever it is, I will write a bit each day. Even if it is to somehow reach that other single mom of twins, or single mom of single child, or working married mom of several, or stay at home mom of one…we are all in this adventure of mommyhood together; for better or worse. I know that I find comfort in reading other blog posts and it certainly helps to know that we are not alone.

This week has been tough. C had tonsillectomy/adenoidectomy last Friday. The doctor filled my head with these great thoughts of how far the procedure has come in the last 15 years and how they don’t dig into one’s throat anymore to remove the tonsils and that they just gently shave it down and there is a natural skin barrier left protecting the roots and the blood vessels in the throat allowing for quicker healing and less risk of profuse bleeding. AWESOME! Sign us up!

C was diagnosed with sleep apnea after a long, painful (for me) process of trying to figure out why this kid was SO DAMN STUBBORN in his awful meltdowns and impersonations of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde where he would turn from this helpful, sweet, funny, sweet, clean, organized, sweet, loving, fun little boy into a crazed, screaming, stubborn, flailing, inconsolable, unreasonable, sometimes mean, and somewhat unrecognizable kid that would usually end his EPIC meltdowns by falling asleep. He would also constantly complain in the mornings whilst I was trying to rouse him that he was “too tired” after 10-11+ hours of sleep and man, could that kid snore. Sometimes, when he found his way into my bed, I would be knocked out by his flailing and then would lie awake listening to him. Snoring like a lumberjack for a while and then silence until i would look at him and try to figure out if he was still breathing until he’d snort and sputter and come back to life. Yeah, he has obstructive sleep apnea. I was a bad mommy who ignored the signs until the behavior got so bad I didn’t know what else to do.

Anyway, we went to a lot of doctors and did a lot of tests and last week ended up at the surgery center to have the tonsils and adenoids out. He did brilliantly. I wish I had had the wherewithal to bring my camera and capture how stinkin’ cute and brave he was in his 3x too big gown and his little surgical cap that his nurse tied in a little knot by the side of his head to make him look like a pirate. He charmed the entire staff and was the model patient. I won’t bore you with the details of my nail biting  and pestering the office manager regarding when I would be able to see him. I was basically told it was for my own good and that children coming out from anesthesia was something that a “parent doesn’t need to see”. Nor will I dwell on how I listened to another boy wheeled in from surgery who was FREAKING THE EF OUT and sobbing and miserable and how awful I felt and how I squeezed C just  little bit tighter and hoped that wasn’t how he was when he woke up. But from what he remembers, I was there when he woke up. And from what I remember, I was so relieved to see my sweet little boy with nurses fawning all over him as he said “thank you” in his froggy little voice as they brought him an ice pop that I forgot all about my prior stress. It was only after he had fallen back asleep and I had climbed into the bed with him at his request that the tears flowed with the knowledge that we were going to be alright.

Of course, the recovery hasn’t gone as we’d have liked. I was prepared for a couple days of misery and for him to be back to school on Tuesday. However, regardless of how encouraging the first anesthesia and tylenol with codeine filled day went, the recovery process has been slow, wrought with fever and listlessness and much mommy worrying. And today, my rays of hope that he was actually getting better after a good 6 or 7 fever free hours had passed were dashed to the ground as his fever spiked higher than the low-grade 101 that the doctors assured me not to worry about and into the “call your pediatrician” realm of 102.7. He is resting in his tylenol with codeine comfort and we will see what happens tonight. I’ve been trying to work from home and take care of him and I’m feeling pretty tired myself.

I guess, in the end, I’ve learned (again) that when it comes to taking care of the boys…I know how to rally. And when this is all over, I will work on taking better care of myself so that I am the best mommy I can be. After all–I’m all they’ve got.

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