“I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious Ambiguity.”Gilda Radner

Thursday, April 19, 2012

A Little Ray of Sunshine

It's been a pretty loaded April for us. The month began with my umpteenth kidney stone surgery--rock on, kidney stones (get it??? rock/stone??).  This surgery did not end well. It ended with the promise of more surgery, which never gives a good sense of closure, you know? Then we missed out on Easter (almost altogether, though the Bunny was generous) because the boys had a nasty flu. We've canceled Noah's birthday party twice, first because of the flu and then because of vacationers (wtf, vacationers!), which was really okay because his birthday isn't until late in the month, anyway. But still. How many times can you promise a little boy there's going to be a party for him and then let him down? So the party is happening Sunday, come hell or high water.

Yesterday I had a meeting, if you will, with my urologist, who has lately become my least favorite person. There are a lot of reasons for this, my general hatred of kidney stones notwithstanding, but I think the biggest is that he has a bit of a God complex. I've had a lot of doctors in my life, seriously. The number of problems I've had, counted with the number of problems I've feared having, adds up to a large sum of doctors. And none of them have ever been as bad as this group of urologists. And it seems to be that they have some sort of urological monopoly going on in the area, because I can't find a new one who isn't affiliated with the old one. I play along in the meantime, pretending to the face of Dr. X that all is well and I'm having a great time (because we all know kidney stones are a real barrel of fun), but really, this man gives me nightmares. I actually had one last night where he was conducting my surgery in an old, old house with lots of rooms, and every time it was time for my surgery I couldn't find him. Then when I did, he was all angry and bothered and yelled at me. It didn't help matters that Joey and Noah were in the dream, too, plugging up toilets and wreaking other types of havoc in the old, old house.

But just as with everything, there have been a few rays of sunshine poking through at us. Two are just the smiling faces of my boys because they are more awesome than any other children anywhere. One is that my son Joey is reading fluently at what I can only guess is a college level. He's really magnificent, and Noah isn't far behind him. Noah is already identifying sight words and spelling simple things like "toys" and "hop on pop" and "Bielecki."  As an English teacher, my literary cup runneth over. As a mom, I say, well...it's all to be expected. I mean, have you met my husband and me? We are so, so wonderful.

The greatest high point of all, however, came at the ironic moment that I arrived home from my evil urologist's office yesterday. I could see from a mile away my children playing in the driveway with my husband, our house lit up on a little sunny hill in the distance. That picture alone could fill anyone's heart, but as I came closer, I saw with shock what was REALLY going on.

Joey was riding a bike with no training wheels.


I pulled carefully into the driveway, stopped the car, and hurled myself from it to attack him with hugs and kisses and obnoxious teeny-boppy-worthy squeals. The scene almost seemed Photoshopped, but for the fact that it was happening before my eyes. My little boy was just pedaling along, free and loose, taking curves and turns like a champ. Well, until he crashed headfirst into Daddy's car, which was mildly hilarious. (Daddy didn't think so.) I know he's six and half, and that's late to learn to ride a bike by some standards, but I didn't learn until I was eleven and have completely defied the law of "It's like riding a bike! You never forget how!" So to me, this was a feat akin to moving mountains. I stood back, watching my children doing small things that somehow seemed like miracles, and I looked at my husband, who had been there to make it happen, and I thought...Things aren't so bad. I have an awful lot of good.

And I kept on thinking that, right up until I went to bed and had that nightmare about Dr. X. Curse you, kidney stones!!

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