The Sir

Sir's surgery went well. And actually, the house is really quiet now. And ya' know, I don't know how to handle it. Mom said to me, "Ya just don't know what ta do with yourself, do ya?" NOPE! I don't know how many of you know this, but Sir has been a fussy, nosy, outgoing, social busy-body since he was conceived. Having been sick the entire pregnancy, I should have known the type of baby he'd be--a fussy, nosy, outgoing, social busy-body. When I brought him home from the hospital he REFUSED to sleep...EVER!...Unless...he was nursing. He nursed all day around the clock; and would still do the same today if I allowed it. Even now he doesn't nap (never has) and isn't excited about bedtime (he's just too pooped to put up a fight). As an infant he fussed all day; as a toddler he fusses the majority of the day. Fuss, fuss, fuss.

So you'd think I'd be overjoyed that he's still knocked out from the drugs and unable to get around because of the epidural he had today. In truth? I'm just plain confused and have no idea what to do with this free time. So here I sit. Typing.

Having been in and out of the hospital with my nephew's sickle cell anemia, I am very used to the Children's Hospital (plus Sir had been once before). But this visit was even more enlightening as a grandmother described the 9 hour surgery that her granddaughter was having on her heart. I turned to mom and said, "Wow, some of these kids are REALLY sick." And mom thoroughly understands sickness, being a cancer patient herself (having undergone Chemo, radiation and now sickening drugs that she takes everyday). But to watch the little ones suffer brings my life, and Sir's, into a great contrast and divide and I realize that...

Shit ain't that bad
(pardon that one, I needed to let that out).

So as we rode home with our fussy, nosy, outgoing busy-body, I tried to forgive all the crazy drivers and all the mean and nasty folks around us.

Shit ain't that bad.

And now, I'm trying to refocus and appreciate the wonderful and crazy life I've created for myself.

Shit ain't that bad.

And I pray that the little girl heals well and fast. I pray that her heart continues to beat on well and beyond her 90s. I pray that all of our ill babies receive the proper healthcare and treatment they deserve. And I pray that we grown folks treat our bodies with the care and respect they deserve...cause shit ain't that bad, but if we ain't careful...

... it sho can be.

Now go...