LG is sick again. We had a very brief hiatus of illness over the summer. By brief, I mean that she had very minor colds over the summer, but not eliminated completely. We’re barely into August and she gets another horrible chest cold. To which I say, “can’t we just fucking at least make it until September?” I mean seriously already.
My sister had a baby at the end of June. She was born prematurely, with some complications. She’s fine and that’s really all I’ll say on the situation since it’s not really my story to tell. But I can’t tell you how excited I am that I’m an aunt for the first time, even though my sister is still in Japan and it kills me that plane tickets are far too expensive for me to afford to go see her.
But as we talk on a near daily basis, her emotions running crazy due to the situation and also hormones, she told me how she was jealous that I had my babies healthy, and full term. Not an abnormal reaction and one that I get fully. Being that we’re both anxiety ridden, I told her that obviously no one has it easy, and my kids have had their issues. The Mini with his developmental delay, LG constantly being sick. The allergies, the asthma. RSV, ear infections. You tend to feel as if you’re being dealt some sort of shitty hand, all while knowing that you have it so much better than others and how can you justify that? She has become a mother and now she gets my crazy. Her anxiety has shifted to constantly worrying about her daughter and being torn between wanting to be a laid back parent, or wrapping her in bubble wrap. It’s her job now.
The Mini’s occupational therapist, who is one of the most brilliant people I know, asked me how things were going with LG. And I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about her developmentally. I had her evaluated at 6 months, just for my own sanity. She was early or on target for just about everything. While she’s maintained her average status as a kid, there are…things that we’ve noticed. She can’t sit still (beyond the toddler norms). She doesn’t seem to care about discipline. She doesn’t listen. She sounds like a typical three-year-old. I know. All things aside, she is pretty typical. She loves unicorns and ponies. Rainbows and cats. Her favorite colors are pink and purple. And god forbid if you don’t know any of that.
And while I’ve felt OK with her, where development is concerned, more so than the Mini, at any given time, there’s still a nagging feeling about some things that she should be getting by now. And I owe it to her to do as much for her, as I have for him. As much as she needs. And so we’ve set up to have her evaluated for ADHD.
As I sat there tonight, holding her now giant three year-old body in my lap while giving her a nebulizer treatment, I was hit with this exact memory of her as a baby. Struggling to catch her breath while coughing uncontrollably, I thought about my sister’s words: “I just want to get past this part of my life so that we can start living a normal life.” I didn’t have the heart to tell her that with kids, it’s always something. I’m still waiting to put off of this behind so that I can begin my own normal life.