Friday, February 20, 2009

Comic relief

Yesterday certainly had its share of frustrations. Like when we drove a half hour down the interstate and pulled up in the parking lot of the teacher supply store so Lanie could get her reward stickers, only to find I left my purse at home. And had absolutely zero cash on me.

Or Lanie's frustrations at differentiating between coins and their values. Or getting the half-hour right in telling time. We've been working on these for several weeks with some luck, but by the next review, she's at square one and frustrated again. (I try to mix in other math things to keep her feeling like she's moving along.)

Then a friend shared some bad news with me about a project we had worked on together several years ago, coupled with some issues of my own that I am too proud to share, just was making the day feel like it was bringing me down.

And the lung doctor called. "How are you?" I asked him. And after his answer, I asked him, "Ok, so how am I?" Inconclusive, but not cancer. I'm going back to the CT scan (w/out dye injection this time) to get a better look at my lungs. But something is definitely going on. March will be a busy month with tests.

So at the end of the day, I looked forward to reading with Lanie and just savoring the moments of being her mom. Nothing like a glimpse at mortality to give you a greater appreciation for the now. We finished reading our chapter in Farmer Boy and said prayers. I decided to use this moment as a reminder to Lanie to say "excuse me" when she burps or toots around others. I sense this is behavior that gets great reaction and applause from her peers, but around the dinner table, not so funny.

I shared a story with her about the time I was working at a job and this man walks into my office and starts talking to me. I was a young twenty-something at the time, but you'd know even then I was destined to give birth to a kid like Lanie.

"So this guy is talking to me, and all of the sudden he toots," I tell her, wide eyed. "Then he says, 'Excuse me' and keeps on talking like nothing happened."

I study her face for reaction. She is captivated.

"I tell you, it was all I could do not to start laughing. I thought it was the funniest thing that he tooted and then kept on talking. I sat in my seat and thought about how he tooted and all I wanted to do was laugh about it. I could hardly pay attention to what he was saying at that point."

I start to laugh a little because Lanie starts laughing.

"Did it smell bad?" she asks. She starts laughing harder and tears are in her eyes. I've never seen her laugh that hard before. Nothing like bodily functions to lighten the mood. Still, I'm not giving her anymore Fiber One bars to snack on.

1 comment:

Lisa said...

Don't sweat the telling time frustration. Kate was in 3rd grade before she really got both time and money.