ABCs

Idea courtesy of Wired Monkey. Because I am utterly incapable of original ideas.

A: Adenoids. We need to get Sam's adenoids checked out, and if they need to be removed, then we get to play the oh-so-fun game of when should we do the surgery, right away or wait-and-see if he needs a second set of tubes. It's a minor surgery, very low-risk, but I'd wager no parent loves the idea of their kid going under the knife.

B: Bronchitis. BAIN OF MY FUCKING EXISTENCE. There is not a year that goes by that either my kid or I don't get bronchitis, and it is usually both of us.

C: Complaining. Because Mary Helen's C was Cancer, and although I bitch a lot, I honestly never lose sight of the fact that I am so goddamn lucky that I get to complain about things like bronchitis and potty accidents rather than things like my kid having cancer. And I am so incredibly lucky that when I worry about surgery it's adenoid surgery and ear tube placement instead of brain surgery.

D: Dog. I want one so very very badly, but between the small house and the aging cat this just isn't the time of life to do so. I told that to my brother, and he snorted that he got TWO dogs with his pre-existing cat in a smaller place than mine, to which I replied, "Yes, but I actually LIKE my cat." He conceded the point.

E. Elephants. Sam's current very favorite animal.

F. Facebook. I just spend way, way too much time over there.

G. Garden. What I cannot wait to get back to.

H. Help. I'm getting better at accepting help for what it is and not seeing it as a judgment. This is one of the hardest lessons I've learned.

I. Intelligibility. The past 10 months have, to a lesser or greater degree, revolved around diagnosing and getting help for Sam's intelligibility issues. His language is fine--he understands everything (and I do mean everything) you say, and his expressive language is pretty much right on track. But due to having fluid in his ears when he was acquiring language, and also because of some developmental delays surrounding oral motor function, he has some significant articulation issues.

J. Jokes. Sam's really starting to crack jokes, and there's simply nothing that has come along that can't be made better by a Sam-joke.

K. Klingons. Because I'm getting really worried that my child's father is going to start teaching him Klingon phrases. And everyone knows that if you're going to teach your kid a made-up language it should be Elvish.

L. Lightning McQueen. Everything in my child's life can be related to the movie Cars. Oy. Vey.

M. Miss Moira--Sam's amazing speech teacher. She comes to the house once a week and works miracles with my kid.

N. Nothing. Which is what my kid will condescend to eat. Our very worst battles are over food, and although I try valiantly to deny the battle and remain neutral, man, is it tough. One thing I've discovered is, regardless of what anyone may say, you cannot force your kid to eat. If you think you can, trust me, your child is not as stubborn as mine.

O. Oranges, or rather, clementines. There's half a box sitting in my kitchen. I need to eat them so I can be a little better on the whole fruits & veggies thing. This is a recurring theme in my life.

P. Preschool. For which I need to register my son.

Q. Quixotic. I think this may best describe my parenting style.

R. Robots. I'd love a Robot to clean my house. Even just a Roomba.

S. Sam, obviously. But also speech therapy.

T. Thistle. My other preshus, my sweet kitters cat. She hates us with the fire of a thousand burning suns, but we do feed her wet food, so she'll overlook our myriad grievous faults. In all seriousness, though, she is one damn fine cat, and so much more patient with the boy than anyone has a right to expect.

U. Unicorn. Because why not?

V. Violence. Which I wish primarily to perpetrate upon whosoever is responsible for Thomas the Tank Engine teaching my child horrific grammar. You "feel badly," Thomas? I'm sure you do, since you have no fricking hands. Or skin. Or nerve endings. However, MY child has all of those, and when he is upset about something, he should feel bad. Seriously, fuck off.

W. "WIPE NOSE!" The pathetic battle cry of the sick child. It strikes dread into my heart.

X. Xanadu. I've always had this shameful desire to see it.

Y. Yoga, which I'm finally making a priority again in my life. Thank god.

Z. Zoo. I'm debating getting a zoo membership this year to either the Reston Zoo or the National Zoo.