Thursday, May 13, 2010

Mission Monkey & Staying Sane

I’m not going to lie, on a normal day, I have no problem dropping Samantha off at daycare. And especially when she was still in the infant room, all they really had to do was turn her away from me and I could leave and that would be that. I like to say that she has a memory of a gnat, so if you distract her, she promptly forgets why she was upset. I’m not saying some days she didn’t cry, and would watch me from the window as I got in my car and drove away, but I knew that within a minute or two, out of sight meant out of mind.

Now that she is a little older, (16 months to be exact) I know in my head that a couple of minutes is all it really takes for her to get over the fact that I have once again ditched her for the day. But now, she anticipates me leaving. My mother-in-law is watching her today, and I swear, when grandma walked in the door, Sam knew that I was leaving her. Up until then, it’s like she had hope that I wouldn’t. And she didn’t want grandma, she wanted me. Which is not usually the case. She wanted to be held, and hugged and kissed, and it broke my heart to have to walk out the door with her crying and whining, knowing that it was me who caused it. I hate the fact that I spend so little time with my daughter. A couple of hours at night, most of which is spent making or eating dinner and getting ready for bed.

Fast-forward 45 minutes to when I sat down at my desk and clicked on one of the blogs I read every day. And she has a link to another blog. A mommy blogger named Michelle who is raising money. Because her daughter, her 16 month old daughter, has cancer. Brain cancer. What is terrifying about this is that her daughter had a small lump on her neck which they thought was an inflamed lymph node, and then they got the real diagnosis. And I can’t help but think of my little girl, and would I even notice a lump on the back of the neck? When was the last time I squeezed her chubby little thighs? When was the last time I smelled her sweaty head after she threw a tantrum? Michelle calls her baby Monkey on her blog, and Workaholic and I always ask Sam what a monkey says and she will whisper oo-oo-oo. What is terrifying is that my dad just had 2 brain surgeries and a little girl the same age as mine has neuroblastoma.

I am not the type of person who likes to dwell on negative things. I don’t like to think about the fact that our plan was to sell our house 4 years ago, and had we done that, things would look much different financially today than they do. I don’t like to think about the fact that while my dad is home from the hospital and rehab center, he is still having trouble with his left hand. I don’t like to think about the fact that I am bringing another baby into this world and am not sure if I can handle it. I don’t like to think about the fact that my little girl could come down any day with a lump on her neck. So I will turn to my Target list, and try to just not think.

(please visit Michelle's blog, and also here, where the fundraiser was announced. every little bit helps another baby not get cancer)


Pamela said...

I have been absent from your blog, but you're in my thoughts, really.

First, I have to say, you referred to Samantha as a Gnat. That's a step up from a flea so I'm not going to come down on you too hard today! It made me chuckle.

Bad things happen to good people. Nobody deserves this. It makes me sick. Hold your girl a little closer and check her from head to toe now and again. I know I'll be doing it with my little X-Man!

How's that belly growing?

paige said...

It's things like this that make me appreciate how fortunate I am. I hope everything works out for them.

I remember not wanting my mom to leave me. No one else would do. :)