When I sat down to write today, this is what came out, "I hate this". I stared at that for about twenty minutes. Hoping to find inspiration to write about anything other than this. But I got nothing. Because this is what's on my mind. I "know" that this is considered common. I "know" he will eventually be fine. I "know" that as far as surgery goes, there are kids and parents dealing with much much much bigger fish. So why am I stuck here? Why can't I write about anything else? Because no matter what other people's reality is, this is ours. This is our big fish for now. So my parenting in this situation is uncharted territory. And I am not a fan of the unexpected. I'm a thinker. Sometimes to a fault. Just ask Daddy Pants. I've been known to throw out probable outcomes like some people consider their lunch order. But instead of vacillating between the turkey club or the rueben, I move between scenarios and prepare for them. Before our recent vacation, I voiced perhaps a million times to Daddy that there "will be meltdowns" and that we needed to go with the flow and not expect too much. Not force things. Just go with the flow. Sometimes when I really get going I can almost hear him thinking, "DUDE, I know." It would seem it's time to take my own advice. Because there is no way to fully prepare. So I have to just parent on the fly.
I know he will be ok. At some point. It would thrill me to know exactly when, but I can't know that. So today I am focusing my plan on comforting him. Bringing comfort. Being comfort. Because that is something I know how to do. It's funny how we know our kids, isn't it? There will be looks that I understand. Words he will say to me that only Daddy or I can interpret. Gut feelings that will tell us how he is doing. An understanding of him that no nurse or doctor can tap into. Instinct that will guide us to help him recover. That is where I am putting my focus now. And as I came to that place this morning, it occurred to me that it's where I start in all of my parenting. I know my boy. I know this is going to be very hard on him. And because of that, it will be very hard on me. It's the price of parenting, isn't it? We feel our kids' pain. We'd trade places with them in a heartbeat. But because we cannot, we are given the blessing of that punch to the gut. It's in taking that and using it to know how to bring comfort that I am counting on. One week from today. One week from today, we tackle this. And I'm going in with no concrete plan. Realizing that concrete plans are never as concrete as we think they are anyway. And that revelation as I typed it just now, has helped me be ready. Daddy and I will be as ready as we can be. Armed with the best tools we have in our tool box. Knowing our son. Understanding him. Loving him. And also popcicles.