Today I wish I were more of that sympathetic-type mom. In reality, I’m pretty sure it is me who deserves the sympathy. In fact I asked Super Dad for combat pay for today. He agreed to double my salary…which is easy when you start with zero…grin!

LuLu is having an upper and lower GI scope tomorrow. So today is “clean-out” day. LuLu is both very excited and anxious about tomorrow’s procedure, as anyone would be. But with her degree of trauma background, excited and anxious takes on a whole new meaning. All week long she’s been way off-kilter. I question whether telling her over the weekend that this Friday was the day was a wise idea or whether it just set me up for more days of pain. However, with LuLu, having something this big sprung on her at the last minute would have been cause for an earthquake of the largest magnitude on her part.

Instead, the week has been a slower, consistent torture. Yesterday was our pre-op meeting at the children’s hospital with the anesthesiologist . It was near-disastrous. Being shut in that tiny exam room with LuLu was a bit like being caged with a starving lion who was also terrified. She bounced all over the room, both physically and emotionally. And just communicating with the other adults was nearly impossible. Her anxiety about yesterday caused her to awake at 4:30 am (groan). This morning, she slept until a whopping 6:30, even though I kept her awake until well after 11, with hopes that she would sleep through much of this morning. Doing school work is out for the next couple of days…she wouldn’t remember it anyway.

So, now you understand our pain.

But, still, I wish I was more of a true caretaker. I am not very good at being a loving nurse-type mom. I wasn’t with the older kids, and I most assuredly am not good with LuLu, especially if her ailments cause an escalation in behaviors (which they often do). So, I feel a bit guilty as I hear suggestions from others (both nurses and moms) about how to pamper my little darling during her rough “clean out” day. Guilty that I didn’t think of these things on my own, much less have the desire to do them…especially when she becomes snarky.

So, even though I have her favorite flavor of Jello on hand, a box full of popcicles, and Lion King plugged into the DVD player, I’m still not feeling the warm, fuzzy sympathy I wish I could feel. Instead, I feel more like suiting up in full body armor and standing guard. Or taking a nap, because the storm will be even bigger tomorrow!

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