Happy to see you

You wouldn't believe me if I told you that my children are bright and amazing. Moms always lie about such things. Once you have a child, you understand this because watching a little person progress from being a crying, sticky, often stinky, blob to a complex human with a new and interesting perspective on the life you share with them is truly an awakening experience for anyone involved in the raising of a child. Seriously, life is beautiful and rich and it is no more evident than when your own flesh in blood with whom you will share your life and love shows you who they are and gives hints as to what really makes them tick.



So, rather than saying that my children are amazing, I'll share what a nurse told me about my oldest the other day. Of course, you must believe this unidentified nurse and every detail I provide because I'm truly unbiased and a completely objective party in this story. I'm not sarcastic either.



Seriously. Ok, well....



Anyway, the other day two of my darlings had to have tubes put in their ears due to chronic, recurrent ear infections. Although I knew the procedure was relatively simple and done repeatedly all over the world on tons of children, I wasn't completely excited about having two of my babies under anesthesia and under the knife. The procedure seemed unavoidable and a good solution for the never ending discomfort the boys were experiencing so we agreed to have it done in order to help the boys out.



Other than the concerns regarding my children both being under anesthesia at nearly the same time (within 15 minutes of each other), I was concerned about my oldest reigning holy terror on the poor unsuspecting, innocent physicians and staff of the hospital. Not to mention that I was hoping that my father-in-law wouldn't witness a ridiculous scene of crazy child, crazy mama. It didn't help that the information provided to me by the surgeon warned of the side effects of coming off of anesthesia being unusually cranky behavior. I could only imagine what unusual cranky behavior would look like in my children. They seem to have it down quite well enough without any extra help.



Prior to the nurses wheeling the boys off for the procedure, we were visited by the anesthesiologist, a quite amusing chap with a British accent who quoted Monty Python to us as he examined the boys. He quickly determined that Dylan (our 16 month old) was perfectly calm and needed no help with relaxation. Conversely, and as feared, was able to see that Neil would need some good drugs to behave. Neil wasn't behaving horribly but he made it very clear that he did not want "them" to put the hospital bands on him nor did he want the oxygen monitor taped to him either. My anxiety level began to mount as I worried about what was to come.

Then entered the "goofy juice" as the sedative was called. The very skilled nurse quickly administered the sedative before he realized what was happening. As we watched over the next few minutes, Neil slowly began to relax and became a silly, little dude. The funniest moment was when he was playing the "give me 5" game with his daddy. (In Chris' version that he plays with the boys he says: give me 5, on the side, in the hole, you're too slow.) After Neil had managed to maneuver enough to give his daddy 5, he slowly moved his hand, with his index finger and thumb touching in the shape of an "o", toward his face while saying, "toooooo slowwwww". It was so cute it almost made me cry.

So, Dylan went into surgery first then Neil. Dylan did fabulously. He was calm from the beginning until the end. He looked adorable in his Looney Tunes cartoon hospital gown as he gripped his tiny little duck (which we washed the day before the surgery). Dylan recovered amazingly without a fuss and was his usual busy self once he got home.

As I sat and rocked the slowly awakening Dylan, a nurse wheeled Neil back into the recovery room and announced to us that Neil was a prodigy. Here I was worried that he would be a crazy tyrant and he turned out to be a prodigy. She began to tell us how he said his ABCs and informed them that "apple" started with an "a" (after being offered apple juice). I thanked her graciously and tried not to sound like I wasn't surprised that he was saying those things.

There is a fine line between expressing how you're proud of your child's abilities and sounding like you're bragging. It's just simply a fact that Neil likes to learn and he's incredibly enthusiastic about it and always has been. Anyway, Neil has been saying his ABCs (all of it) since he was 18 months old, he has been talking forever it seems, and he started reading when he was 3. My mother-in-law, who is a retired 1st grade teacher, told me that Neil reads better than some of her 1st graders did. Obviously, I'm pleased that he's doing well but, again, I understand that all kids are special as are my other two dudes and other children I know. They're all special in their own ways.

Anyway, the next day I spoke again with the nurse and she told me how she woke up before work that day and couldn't stop thinking about how special Neil was. She said, "we see children all day long, every day but he was special. There was something special about Neil." Of course, I hated to hear this. . . not. She then told me how he was not only smart but very pleasant (this is where I asked her to repeat herself since I wasn't sure I heard her right). She told me how Neil turned to one of the nurses and said, "What is your name?" to which the nurse answered, "Carrie." Neil replied in a stutter, "C..c..c..carrie. Carrie starts with a "C". It's nice to see you, Carrie."

Oh my. He's even good with the ladies! I couldn't help but recall another amusing incident where his pick up line was, "What's your favorite letter?" which he directed toward a cute, older girl. He was disappointed that she didn't answer and walked away which I didn't find surprising since her mouth-breathing, blank expression didn't give me the confidence that she even knew her letters in the first place. (Totally tacky of me to say but it's easier to say than to face the fact that she was totally unimpressed with my child.)

So, my little prodigy has recovered nicely from his surgery as has little Dylan and I am relieved that they both did so well. Perhaps next time I have concerns regarding Neil's behavior in public, I'll remember this time or I'll simply go and get me some goofy juice.