When I walked Birdie into kindergarten the other day, I noticed his friend Evan sobbing with his head down in his arms. The teacher's assistant asked him why he was crying and he sniffled, "I miss my mommy."
"Ay, everyone misses their mommy. I miss my mommy too. My son, he misses me. But the mommies can't stay with you all the time since they have to go to work. Valerie's mommy is going to work. Birdie's mommy is going to work. Shane's mommy is going to work," she explained in her gruff voice.
I stared at her for a second. She was not really helping to stop Evan from crying, but she was telling him the truth. There is nothing wrong with telling the truth, even if it is not the kindest response. Evan cried on.
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Saturday, March 28, 2009
3 Ironies
1. I get disappointed that people do not read this blog. Why bother writing if no one is reading? Yet I worry about concealing my true identity; I don't want people in my real life to connect me with my virtual life. Go figure.
2. I am so busy all day, yet so much remains undone. I am up early washing and feeding kids, making sure clothes are ready for school. I bring home much paperwork which I slog through when I should be sleeping. At the end of the day, I am tired. And I remember I forgot to file the income taxes. For 2005. Again.
3. You only get one chance to be a good parent. Yet you get that same chance over and over every day. Then suddenly the kids are big, and you hope they are not helpless, homeless, heartless, hopeless, due to your missed chances.
2. I am so busy all day, yet so much remains undone. I am up early washing and feeding kids, making sure clothes are ready for school. I bring home much paperwork which I slog through when I should be sleeping. At the end of the day, I am tired. And I remember I forgot to file the income taxes. For 2005. Again.
3. You only get one chance to be a good parent. Yet you get that same chance over and over every day. Then suddenly the kids are big, and you hope they are not helpless, homeless, heartless, hopeless, due to your missed chances.
Monday, March 2, 2009
Touchy Feely
"I have the perfect gown we tailored just for you," the nurse practitioner said today. "It is a Vera Wang and you are going to look fabulous in it." She pulled out the standard hospital gown and stroked the threadbare cotton as I chuckled. It felt good to laugh. The condition I need to have checked out does not seem serious, but I still felt anxious.
Gertie was practicing her empathy skills, I guess. She took my medical history, which is mostly fine, then began to examine my breasts. She said, "you are feeling very worried but you have come to the right place. The doctor is so good, and she will take care of you."
Later on, she commented, "You're sweet." I was startled and responded, "I am?" How does she know? Then, when the exam was over, she HUGGED me. I am not too touchy feely, but the hug just seemed human and caring, and to be just what I needed then. I said, "thanks," sincerely.
I am switching to this clinic, too. They made my day.
Gertie was practicing her empathy skills, I guess. She took my medical history, which is mostly fine, then began to examine my breasts. She said, "you are feeling very worried but you have come to the right place. The doctor is so good, and she will take care of you."
Later on, she commented, "You're sweet." I was startled and responded, "I am?" How does she know? Then, when the exam was over, she HUGGED me. I am not too touchy feely, but the hug just seemed human and caring, and to be just what I needed then. I said, "thanks," sincerely.
I am switching to this clinic, too. They made my day.
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