I was glad to have coffee with my fantastic friend Nat this evening. I did so without having read her most recent blog post, which involves a scary trip to the hospital with The Boy and his new friend, Mr. Asthma Attack. This happened only two days ago, and the feelings are still very raw for poor Nat. Seeing your child that sick, with machines monitoring his oxygen levels and a mask full of medicine to help him breath, is one of those scary situations a parent hopes to never find themselves in. Well, she found herself in it, and I didn't realize when I walked into the coffee shop how much I needed to be there for my friend.
I'm so glad I could be there.
It's yet another example of how a bad situation - like Spawnling's illness three months ago, Gutsy's stay at the hospital for pneumonia 18 months ago, and Intrepid's exciting broken femur episode 2 years ago - can be manipulated into a positive. As it turns out, I've become an unwilling expert in the field of childhood injuries and illnesses requiring prompt emergency treatment and hospitalization. I do not like it, Sam I Am. But it is what it is, and I sure am glad to lend that ear and tea (which was free and provided by my distraught friend who was too upset to realize she buys way more than I do).
My company costs about $2.50 an hour. The Maven is a cheap whore. Spread the word.
How interesting that I would happen to write yesterday's post about Spawnling's traumatic experience changing me for the good, and then find myself with someone going through something similar tonight.
Ethereal forces, you keep me smiling.
I wanted to say thank you, once again, to everyone who has been so amazingly supportive over the last few months. I don't think I can say thank you enough times or in enough ways. Whether I know you in real life (lucky you) or only online (in which case you really should put "meeting The Maven" on your bucket list, trust me) your kindness has helped heal this huge gash in my heart. I'm no idiot: the sole reason I've been able to be a strong mom for Spawnling is because I have good backup. A ton of sidekicks. Dozens upon dozens of Robins. Thank you, and if you ask nicely I'll let you use the utility belt.
That's the way the world works though, doesn't it? Give and ye shall receive, and whatnot. It's that whole karmic circle thing: My life was shit on toast, people helped me make new toast that didn't have shit on it, I ate that instead and felt better, and now I'm helping someone else with their choice of breakfast spreads.
That was, by far, the worst, and yet, best analogy I've ever come up with. I don't know whether to pat myself on the back or delete my blog altogether because I don't deserve to call myself a writer.
We had a perfectly good day today, my herd of gremlins, co-shepherd and I. Spawnling and I went to playgroup and he only pushed one little friend, and only because he was overwhelmed with joy (that's my story and I'm sticking to it). We had our friend Jacob over for lunch, and then The Madre over for tea, after which I passed the shepherd's crook over to her for a little while so I could clean the kitchen.
I made one of the world's laziest dinners: sandwiches coupled with a piddly amount of baby carrots on the plate so I can say it comes with a serving of vegetables.
Then I went out for coffee with Nat, and now I'm back here, blogging about nothing extraordinary. Just another example of me being awesome, people around me being nearly as awesome, and shit on toast.