Here are the books I read in January 2012.

1. Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer
This book was on my list for a while before I finally decided to go ahead with it; seeing the trailer for the movie finally pushed me to buy it and read it before I somehow ended up seeing the movie. (I hate seeing the movie before reading the book, you miss so much that way.) The content seemed a little heavy; a boy who loses his dad in the September 11 attacks and then narrates his journey through grief is not exactly light reading. But I loved it anyway – I thought that the 9 year old as narrator worked, and I loved all his little quirks and the way he looked at the world. I will never be able to get the phrase “heavy boots” out of my head, as I found it to be such an apt description for sadness. I really wished that there was a happy ending, but that was maybe the point of the book – that sometimes everything isn’t happy, it doesn’t tie up neatly, but it still ends okay.

2. We Need to Talk About Kevin by Lionel Shriver
So, right. If you ever want to be terrified of children, buy this book. It was excellent – really well written and very thought-provoking – but it was creepy and scary in ways that I hadn’t anticipated. I actually stayed up until 1:30am to finish this book, just because I sort of wanted it out of my head. The portrait that the author paints of Kevin is completely compelling and terrifying in that watching-a-horror-movie way – you want to jump into the book and stop the inevitable from happening.

3. Come Back To Me by Melissa Foster
So, to continue January’s cheer-fest we have a novel about a war photographer who goes to Iraq to shoot a story on the lives of Iraquis in the midst of war. Predictably, there is a helicopter crash that the photographer survives, and following that we see his journey home to his wife. It ends in an utterly unexpected way, though – one that depressed me. I am still not quite over the lack of a happy ending.

4. Half a Life: A Memoir by Darin Strauss
This was… another non-cheerful book. It was a totally absorbing read, however. This memoir takes a look at the life of a high school senior who strikes and kills a bicyclist who is a member of his same senior class. He spends the next “half” of his life attempting to live for the both of them before reconciling what happened. Absorbing and thought-provoking, but also sad. (Sheesh I need to get off the memoir kick.)

5. Last Summer by Theresa Weir
This was a fluffy romance that went pretty much like most romances do. I won’t go into details in case anyone wants to read it, but it was rather entertaining despite the fact that it was pretty formulaic; the “antagonist as celebrity” worked well here.

6. The Underside of Joy by Sere Prince Halverson
I loved this book. I couldn’t really put it down until it was finished; when it was finished I was bummed because I wasn’t yet through with the characters. The book is based on the passing of the main character’s husband, after which his ex-wife re-enters the picture to contest custody of their children. It was fast-paced with lots going on, but it never felt all that far-fetched. I only wished I’d gotten more of the couple together in the beginning before the husband’s passing. I look forward to reading more by this author.

7. Love in a Small Town by Betty Jo Schuler
Another Kindle-freebie romance, but I enjoyed this one. The plot was typical of romances, with lots of will she/won’t he back-and-forth, but I loved the setting of the book – it was set in the Midwest, and you don’t come across books set here very often.

I’m not really on target for my goal for 2012, but I’m enjoying trying to get there!

Allie is too busy to mull over such things, however; she’s busy babbling and pushing over blocks and reading books and scooting along as fast as her little arms will take her.

I have loved watching all my nephews and nieces grow, but there is nothing to compare to the experience of seeing my own sister become a mom, of seeing her be that perfect-just-right person for my niece. I know that Allison will grow up learning the same stories that exist in my childhood memory bank; I am sure that our daughters will one day likely be rolling their eyes at the very same stories and one-liners, spoken by mothers who got them from their mother.

In much the same way, I’m looking forward to Allie and Maddie sharing much of their childhood – playing games and Barbies and fighting and whispering secrets. It’s been one of my hopes ever since my sister told me that she was having a girl – that in some way, some of Madeline’s memories of her childhood would be like my own, surrounded by family and laughter and noise and a best friend who was family, too. Maybe someday these two will have daughters, and they’ll tell them the same stories and use the same one-liners and more eyes will be rolled because really, Mom. Really?

But as usual I’m getting ahead of myself – today, Allison is nine months old. She is beautiful and smart and busy, and I am so excited and grateful to watch her grow… but Allie, you can slow down. Just a little! Your auntie Beth likes your snuggly hugs.

The line was long, like it always is on Sundays; the market serves delicious chicken dinners on that day only and it’s not uncommon for the counter to be entirely lined up with the after-church crowd. Though our list was short, our wait in line to pay was long. As usual, Madeline sang to herself while waiting in the cart; she is oblivious to her surroundings unless anyone stops to talk to her – that’s when she’ll clam up, suddenly realizing she’s not alone in her living room.

Of course, someone did stop to chat. An elderly man got into line behind us and began talking with her; shockingly, Madeline chatted right back. It seems that she may have inherited my affection for conversations with old men. ”What’s that song you’re singing?” he asked.

“Well, it’s my song, you know? One I made up about princesses.”

“That so? Do you know ‘Happy Birthday’?” he asked, smiling at her. He scooted closer to hear her.

“Well, yeah.”

“Oh. I’ve always liked that song,” he told her. “It just might be my favorite. What’s your favorite?”

She thought a moment. “Princess songs. I love princess songs the best.”

“Well, sure,” he said, nodding. “I don’t know those, though, I don’t think. Do you like ‘Happy Birthday’? We could sing that one.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t think so. It’s not really my favorite.”

“Maybe it’s his birthday,” I prompted her, worried suddenly that it was and that there was no one to sing to him. “Maybe you should sing!”

“Oh, no, it’s not my birthday today,” he told us. “Soon, though. This week,  I’ll be 87. And married for 65 years!” He shook his head. “Can you believe that? We got married on my birthday so that I’d never forget! I’ve had some good ideas and that was one of them!” He chuckled at his own trickery.

Madeline gawked openly at him. “Eighty-SEVEN?” she cried. “That’s A LOT.”

“I know it!” he laughed. “I know it!”

And then it was our turn to pay and he and Madeline waved bye-bye; we wished him happy birthday and happy anniversary and many more. I wanted to hug him, tell him I was happy for him – 87 and out and about, buying groceries, smiling - if only to stop the feeling of unfair that was crawling up my throat where it always rests in moments like these, causing a lump that makes it hard to swallow. Sometimes it tastes bitter, and others only bittersweet. Sunday, seeing Madeline giggling with him, it was only bittersweet.

Pushing the cart out to the car, I gave Madeline several kisses on the forehead and thought Grandpa would have love, love, loved you. He would be so damn delighted to talk to you, sing with you, swing with you. He would have laughed and laughed at the things you say.

I buckled her into her carseat and straightened back up in the winter air, meeting Jimmy’s eyes as he finished putting the groceries into the trunk. He knows me well, and he knew where my thoughts had traveled. He smiled and said, “My grandparents would have loved her, too.”

We know that they do, from near and far and wherever they are. Still, seeing what could have been in the here and now: bittersweet.

The Bad (aka the easy list!)

1. I am AWFUL at math. AWFUL. I get sweaty and panicky just remembering high school/college math courses, and nothing can make me feel more idiotic than being confronted by a sales rack and attempting to figure out where 30% off will get me. I struggled my way through Elementary Statistics and that is IT. Never again. (Until Madeline has to learn fractions and multiplication and I will somehow have to hide my own terror while attempting to help.)

2. I am awful at communicating frustration or upset. Most times I would rather chew my own hand off than tell someone that I’m unhappy/displeased/angry/frustrated. If it’s uncomfortable, it’s likely that I’ll avoid it. This is not a good trait to have in any area of your life, let me tell you, and I’m working on it.

3. I am bad in unfamiliar social situations. Some people are born to work a room and improvise, but not this girl. I have attended several networking and public speaking seminars and each time I have been intensely uncomfortable the whole time. Give me my friends that I know and love, please don’t stick me in a room of strangers and expect me to make friends, because the whole time I will be fretting over my hair/outfit/the idiotic thing I just said. I no longer have the capacity to create relationships out of thin air; I think I get more and more socially ackward as I age.

The Good

1. I am good with words. I like to write, and I like to think that I’m pretty decent at it. Creating original copy is actually part of my job description, so I feel pretty lucky that I get to do something (at least some of the time) that I enjoy. I’d like to write a bit more, and things that are more “my own” someday – and I’m working toward that this year. 2012 is the year of action!

2. I am a decent cook – that’s another thing that I enjoy. I love finding new recipes (hello, giant Pinterest board!) and trying them out, and I especially love it when they work and are something I’d want to make again. I love the happy litttle organizational routine of meal planning, even though I don’t do it every week – on the weeks when I do get it done, I feel very put-together.

3. I am good at keeping routines in place. Appointments, schedules – I am good with making sure that my family is where they need to be and get done what they need to get done. It’s not necessarily always on time (gosh, timeliness would be a good one for the “bad” list, I am not great with arriving on time) but I like to think that I’m mostly able to keep everyone ticking along as they should. I take a lot of pleasure in the night-before-school routine that Madeline and I have: packing lunch, backpack, bath, laying out clothes… it just feels great to get a head start on the day. (I imagine that this will wear off once she’s on a 5-days-per-week schedule.)

There! That wasn’t so bad. As Sara noted, it was much harder to come up with the “good” stuff.

(It was very difficult not to use entirely sarcastic answers for the good list, such as “I am excellent at eating ice cream” and “I totally excel at the Disney Princess game on the Wii.” Although that last one might be valid, have you tried to repair Cinderella’s clock tower? Sheesh.)

“You should be more like my ANIMALS!” she told him, gesturing to the menagerie crowded onto her bed. “They don’t even talk to me and they don’t tell me NO MORE NECKLACES!”

Wait, did I say four? Maybe I meant fourteen. Either way, here it comes in all its sassy, independent brilliance.

:::

Speaking of sassy… MAN do we have it in spades at our house lately. It is hysterical except that it’s not, because you really don’t want to hear your child howling things like “YOU RUINED MY LIFE!” in public, you know? So we’ve been working pretty hard on curbing it.  This has meant a lot of tantrums and time-outs lately, and a lot of talks about kind words. So far, we’ve noticed a marked increase in the use of “please” and “thank you” – words that had fallen by the wayside, unfortunately – and an immediate realization when she has said something that qualifies as sassy.

This morning as we left for school, Jimmy handed Madeline her backpack. When she saw it, hanging in mid-air between them, she sighed and said “Just give it to Mom.”

“Madeline!”

A quick look, then another sigh. “I will carry it, then. Was that sassy?”

“Yes,” I said, biting my tongue against the I am not your servant that was bubbling up in my throat.  

:::

However, for every one of these four-going-on-fourteen moments of sassiness, there are several full of sweetness and silliness. The other morning as I was getting ready she brought her Oh Say Can You Say Di-no-saur? book into the bathroom and sat at my feet (literally on my feet), reading quietly. Then she piped “Look! You are the maiasaura because of her nest and her babies, and I’m apatasaurus, and Daddy is the brontosaurus with the long neck. We’re a family!”

She’s been reading so much, more than ever, and she has a few books memorized – most notably Too Purpley, which pretty much perfectly describes our morning routine of getting dressed. She knows most of her numbers and letters and shocks me daily with the things she suddenly knows – right before my eyes, she really is counting and recognizing some of her sight words. She is writing several letters like a champ, and has the M-A-D part of her name down pat. (We’re still working on E.)

We’re still working on a lot of things, but you know what? I think I’m going to love four. If history holds true, then I will love this coming year even more than the ones before… sassiness and all.

“PANTS?” she sighed. “I don’t like to wear pants.”

“I know, but it’s cold.”

“Emma doesn’t like it when we wear pants. And not jeans. If you wear jeans you can’t come to the party. Dresses are so much better. And boys wear jeans!!”

I sigh. I know. I have heard all of this before. “And what are you supposed to say when someone says something like that?”

“That we include everyone. And I wear what I like. And so does she. An’ everybody else too.”

“Right.”

“But I’m wearing my jammies tomorrow anyway, I’m not wearing any of those clothes.”

Um, news to me? I go into the kitchen and pull last week’s memo from my growing to-be-filed-or-tossed list. Nope, it’s still just Teddy-Bear Day, like I’d typed into my Outlook; they were to bring their “favorite bear” and slippers to wear.

“Maddie, no jammies tomorrow, maybe later this month for Catholic Schools Week.”

“What’s that?”

Why did I say that out loud? “It’s a week where you celebrate your school spirit… like how you like going to your school.”

“Oh. But Mrs. T. says that I can wear my jammies,” she insisted.

We went back and forth for several minutes. “Look, Maddie, I’m not sure, but I will pack some jammies in your backpack and if we get there and it’s jammie day I will take you in the bathroom and help you change, okay?”

“Okay,” she conceded, satisfied.

:::

Guess who was right when we got to her classroom today?

Madeline, of course.

Her classmates were running around in their jammies and slippers, and Madeline, clutching her bear, turned to me with a patient smile, the kind you reserve for naughty children or people who are clearly not getting the obvious. “MOM! See!!”

Her teacher laughed and told me that the kids had been so excited about slippers that she made the concession to jammies; there had been no time for a memo. “But it’s not required, or anything, just for fun,” she said.

I told her about Madeline’s insistence and apologized for not believing her; clearly she’d delivered the message just as her teacher had asked. Then I escorted Madeline to the bathroom where she quickly donned her bedtime gear. “It’s okay, Mom,” she consoled as she pulled her shirt over her head. “Everyone makes mistakes, you know? And you brought my jammies anyway, so that was a good job. We just haffa listen to each other, you know?”

(I always love these impromptu performance reviews, especially when I hear my own words repeated back to me – that line about listening is a classic of mine.)

The kids were so adorable playing in their jammies and slippers, and were clearly proud to show off their bears. Madeline’s choice was a “Peace” Beanie Baby that I’ve had for years; out of her whole motley crew he claimed her affection for the day. “He’s very colorful and beautiful,” I heard her explaining to a friend. “He was my mom’s but she gave him to me for good.”

:::

It’s sort of a good thing that it was jammie day in her classroom, because when I got her dressed today her clothes didn’t fit.

I’m not kidding, it was an overnight thing. I’d always thought that parents exaggerated about their children growing out of things “overnight,” assuming that they just weren’t paying attention. But there she was in front of me this very morning, all wrists and ankles in an outfit she’d just worn without issue last week – maybe Wednesday or Friday? It hasn’t been long, she loves the kitty shirt.  

“Madeline, you grew! Look, your pants are getting too short! I can see almost all of your sock!”

“So? I like these lacy ones.”

“I know, they’re cute, but you’re not supposed to see all of your sock with your pants on. You can’t wear those, you have to wear your jeans, those are way too short.”

This created a lot of huffing, because of all the clothes that one can wear to school, jeans are at the bottom because boys wear them too. ICK!

Anyway, jeans present a whole other set of difficulties in our household – you see, she really needs a belt with her pants depsite the adjustable waist (oh how I love the adjustable waist, thank you Children’s Place!) but I can’t do that to her just yet. She would have a really hard time with it in the bathroom, and I’m supposed to be fostering independence in that area, not burdening her with more snaps and buckles. Anyway, jeans require a long shirt/tunic to avoid wardrobe malfunctions, and once we found one we were good to go; however, she only has a few. Looks like we’ll be going shopping this weekend; I really cannot believe that I need to buy 5T clothes. That’s the last toddler size, isn’t it?

“How did this happen?” I wondered out loud, helping her into the jeans. ”I feel like I just put away your 6 month outfits.”

“Mom,” she sighed, “you know how this works. I eat my food and I sleep like a big girl and then – I grow! I grow bigger and bigger and bigger.”

“I know. We’ll have to get you some longer pants this weekend, okay?”  

“I can just wear my dresses,” she offered helpfully. “I don’t really need to have any pants at all. Or ever!”

Oh, my girliest of girls.

Everything about these pictures makes me so happy. Her pictures from her first Christmas, when she was just 10 months old, are still hanging on the wall of photos; seeing this big grown-up girl next to that chubby, smily baby chokes me up a little. She is growing so fast… but her smile is still the same. I love that smile.

• Read 150 books. (I have no idea if this is possible, but I did make it to 100 in 2011 – just under the wire – so I’m trying it.)
• Get rid of the weight. I have no specific number in my head, I just know that the number as it is currently is not healthy/happy for me. I joined a “Biggest Loser” style competition at work, and since January 3 I’ve lost 4 pounds. Perhaps the old formula of, you know, not eating crap and working out actually works somehow. (This sort of makes me want to put my head through a wall, because really. I’ve been putting it off for four years now.)
• Drink my daily water like a big girl. (So far I’m doing really well with this. I’m also visiting the bathroom a LOT.)
• Have the pictures of my grandparents framed. Seriously. This has been on the list for three years now.
• Order some of our wedding pictures. (See above… also been on the list for three years.)
• Have the hard drive from our old tower cleared so that I can put the pictures on it somewhere safe (another external?) and not tainted by viruses.
• Meet our house down payment goal.
• Spend more quality time with Madeline, actually making memories. I have lots of things planned for her this year; four is going to be amazingly fun.
• Make a Snapfish or similar book of Madeline’s scanned artwork, etc. from pre-3. (I will keep some of the more “special” pieces but WOW are we swimming in art.)
• Either finish Madeline’s scrapbook of her first, second, and third years (YIKES) or succumb to digital and do it that way.
• Do something awesome for my husband when he graduates in May… I can’t speculate about this much here because he does read occasionally.
• Meet and spoil new babies!!! My friends Jess and Kayla are both expecting, and I can’t wait to meet their new little ones in May and July.
• Trip to Florida to meet said new baby? And you know, Disney World is there too… I’m just putting that one out there, Universe.

So that’s a start for 2012… what are your goals for the year?

1. What did you do in 2011 that you’d never done before? Became the mom of a preschooler, which meant dropping Madeline off with a roomful of kids I hardly knew. Craziness! I also got to spend some time in the classroom with all the kids, which has been so fun and inspiring in ways I didn’t expect. Many sundry work-related things.

2. Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year? I… sort of? Looking at this list shows that I did accomplish some of my goals, but it seems that some were left behind and – if we’re being honest – totally forgotten. However, I did make my book goal for 2011 – I read 100 new books!

5. What countries did you visit? None. I have never been farther from home than Canada, which is something I’d like to change someday but not a high priority on the to-do list at the moment. (This question makes me feel lame every year.)

6. What would you like to have in 2012 that you lacked in 2011? More time, that money tree. A finished manuscript? (That one is up to me, isn’t it? Not some hypothetical.) More clothes that fit (oh hey, another one that’s up to me!).

7. What dates from 2011 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? April 29, for Allie’s birthday.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? Maybe reading the 100 books? There have been a lot of little things along the way that have added up to a pretty good little life, and that’s a pretty big achievement.

9. What was your biggest failure? I am still fatter than I should be, and it’s no one’s fault but my own, dammit.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury? Nope! Hurrah! Unless you count the Preschool Plague that has descended upon our house since September, which has certainly caused much suffering. Croup, colds, coughs, pink eye, and vomiting… oh preschool, you are such a mixed bag.

11. What was the best thing you bought? Preschool tuition – I have loved seeing Madeline blossom within her school.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration? My family’s. Several of my coworkers. My friends. I have a lot of good people around me!

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? Politicians. So many terrible awful things happening right now and I sort of hate them all for it.

14. Where did most of your money go?  Bills. Happily, a lot of it went into savings, too.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? Madeline, and all her little firsts and discoveries. Allison’s arrival. The end of the Harry Potter movies. Laughing with my husband again.

16. What song will always remind you of 2011? Anything from Mumford & Sons.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
a) happier or sadder? HAPPIER
b) thinner or fatter? About the same, regrettably
c) richer or poorer? Richer

18. What do you wish you’d done more of? Exercise. Girl’s nights. Time off from work without being attached to my laptop/cell phone.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of? Fretting about work/life balance… somehow it all gets done regardless of how much I worry about it. Eating crap food.

20. How did you spend Christmas? With my family, opening presents at home, making breakfast, and then at my Gram’s to finish up the night. It was a pretty perfect day – I think the only thing that we were missing was the snow!

21. Did you fall in love in 2011? I always answer this the same way, I think, but definitely more in love/in different ways with Madeline and Jimmy. I also fell in love with my new little niece Allison.

22. What was your favorite TV program? Oooh, yes. The Office, without question. NCIS and NCIS: Los Angeles. I also love The Big Bang Theory even though I only ever catch reruns because it’s on smack in the middle of bedtime.

23. Do you hate anyone that you didn’t last year?  Eh, no. Various new people have made me furious, I’m sure

24. What was the best book you read? Oooh, so many here! I loved the entire Hunger Games series, and I loved Alexa’s Half Baked and Matt Logelin’s Two Kisses for Maddy (even though it made me sob). Olive Kitteredge, Swimming, the The Girl With series, I Don’t Know How She Does It (even though it initially made me ragey, I came to love it)… I read SO much this year and looking back through my Kindle to answer this question is giving me a happy little thrill.  I already started on my 150 book goal for this year with Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close (which I’m pretty sure everyone else already read last year, but hey, I’m getting there).

25. What was your greatest musical discovery? Eh. I am not really a music “discoverer” unless you count me listening to whatever my little sister Laura recommends. I would have to say Mumford & Sons, for sure, and maybe Adele but I didn’t really fall in love with that. I have to be in a bad mood to listen to that cd, you know?

26. What did you want and get? Oh, just about everything. Even a new coat that I didn’t really need but just wanted.

27. What did you want and not get? Nothing off the top of my head… I am blessed.

28. What was your favorite film of this year? Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2, of course. I don’t know if I even saw anything else in the theater, since I haven’t yet even seen the hot mess that is Breaking Dawn. I think HP was a foregone conclusion for me… I loved every second of it, even the awkward hug between Voldemort/Draco at the end. (Except for the wand snapping. WHY??? WHY???)

29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? I turned 27 and went to lunch/shopping with my sisters and mom; also, it was the first year that I got a paid birthday holiday which made the whole day even nicer. Hurrah!

30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? Endless supplies of money and magical calorie-free food? A teletransporter so I didn’t have to drive? This has been, overall, a super year.

31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2011? Or my lack thereof, you mean? I have a red coat now, which is very fancy. And I bought boots to play in the snow. So… umm… let’s try to do better in 2012? Maybe that’s the thing.

32. What kept you sane? My sisters, my friends, my mom, my husband.

33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? Meh, I’m not really a celebrity fancier, much… Seeing Taylor Swift in concert made me love her even more than before; she is SUCH a great role model for girls. Also Emma Watson, for the same reason.

34. What political issue stirred you the most? Oh, maybe not a specific bill but how about the slow siphoning of rights, civil and otherwise? I am turning into a cranky old man over all this, honestly.

35. Who did you miss? As always: my Grandpa. Also as always, in a less permanent way: my little sister Laura. Minot is too far.

36. Who was the best new person you met?  Allison!

37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2011. A year from now you’ll wish you’d started today.

38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

And after the storm
I run and run as the rains come
And I look up, I look up
On my knees and out of luck, I look up

And I took you by the hand
And we stood tall
And remembered our our land
What we lived for

There will come a time, you’ll see
With no more tears
And love will not break your heart, but dismiss your fears
Get over your hill and see what you find there
With grace in your heart and flowers in your hair

(Mumford & Sons, “After the Storm”)

The thing about the timing of this surgery and all the doing was that it allowed for very little time to think about anything. The night before the surgery – the night of Madeline’s Christmas program – I had gotten behind at work and was trying to wrap up and complete my handoffs before leaving the building and was literally sweating when I barrelled into my boss’ office with a stack of papers and files to hand off. It was 5:15pm and I was supposed to get home to take Madeline to the school with Jimmy and I needed to have her at school at 6:00pm and it takes me 20 minutes to get home from my office and and and. She asked how I was doing, if I was at peace and ready for the surgery in the morning, and I burst into tears.

(That is, unfortunately, not an uncommon occurence for me. This probably sounds like a bad thing unless you know my boss, and if you do you’re nodding in understanding. The woman gets me like few other people do, and accepts all my neuroses.)

“I’m fine,” I said, wiping away tears and then laughing at the idiocy of that statement. “I’m scared, and I’m running late, and I don’t even have the headspace to worry about my husband because I don’t even want to think about it. I’m not thinking about it. It’s just – it’s not a big deal, it’s routine, and I’m not worrying about it because it’s fine and I’m late and I don’t have time to talk about any stupid anxiety.” I felt stupid, because even Jimmy was entirely calm and nonchalant about the actual surgery aspect of this process. It was only me who was scared.

After we both got done laughing at the complete stream of ridiculous that had just poured from my mouth, we talked through my fears a bit and I left the room feeling much better – if not yet totally at peace with the events that were to unfold the next morning, a bit better at least. I called my husband and asked him to meet me at the school and I repaired my makeup the best I could and I arrived shortly after they did, to find Madeline waiting and grinning with excitement in the school hallway. She ran at me and Jimmy was laughing; I realized then that this was what I was worried about, what I feared losing. Just these little moments. It’s an undercurrent with me, something running behind the scenes rather regularly, but the idea of anesthesia and pain somehow brings it right to the forefront.

It’s funny – we have done the surgery thing before. In the course of our relationship, this is actually the third time that I’ve sat in a hospital waiting room, hanging out until he wakes up. However, this time was the first that I was waiting for him while our child waited for both of us to return home. That fact alone made a routine surgery feel far riskier than it ever had before.

The morning of the surgery was quiet and calm; Madeline had spent the night at Ahmie and Grampy’s house because we had to be at the hospital at the unholy hour of 5am. Jimmy was his usual calm, collected self; he is distinctly difficult to ruffle, even in the face of surgery. We hung out and chatted in a small room while waiting for the nurse to take him to pre-op; various people came in and out with forms and different preparations for him, including the always-hilarious-to-me marking of YES across the affected shoulder. I mean really… nothing like a Cliff’s Notes of “Where To Cut” to instill supreme confidence in your surgical staff, right? (I know that it’s necessary, but it never fails to make me laugh.) We both dozed a bit; suddenly the knock on the door came and he was off. I kissed him goodbye in the elevator and rode the remaining three stories down to the waiting room alone.

The waiting room was fairly empty; it was only 6:30am. A few people waited alone, like me; in the center of the room was a knot of  family that looked pale and shocked and I was flooded with gratitude for the reason behind my wait. My wait was scheduled, ordered; theirs clearly was not. I prayed for them while I waited, hoping that their Christmas would be more miraculous than they could ever have planned.

The time passed quickly; at 9am I got a call from Jimmy’s surgeon saying that everything had gone really well, although they’d found more damage than the MRI indicated. All had been cleaned up and should be well after physical therapy.

:::

Soon after the call I saw a happy face next to Jimmy’s pin number on the patient-tracking monitors and was given the all-clear to go upstairs. I found my husband, as cheerful as he always is just out of anesthesia. “Helllllooo!” he cried, waving at me with his good arm. “Nice of you to JOIN me!”

“It’s a party in here,” the nurse said, laughing. “Is he always this chatty?”

“After anethesia, always,” I replied. “How did he come out of it?”

“Okay, he’s doing well if he’ll stop talking to eat,” she laughed.

“I told EVERYONE downstairs what you are getting for Christmas,” he told me, conspiratorially.

“Oh really? What’s that?” I asked.

“AH HA HA HA NOOO. I’m not THAT out of it,” he said.

Well, good to know. I was grateful for the light atmosphere of the room, for the ease of this day. I was grateful to be on the other side, although I knew that the work was really just beginning for him.

He’s doing well, off his pain medication now and taking on physical therapy like a champ. He’s just concentrating on getting well, as he should be, doing what he needs to do to put this behind us. I’m so proud of how strong he’s been, and how he’s taken care of me throughout the whole process. That sounds awful, doesn’t it? I’ve been doing my best to care for him, too, but when these things happen I tend to get scared and turn inward. He keeps me talking, keeps me turned out. We keep talking through it, which is a significant change for us. I daresay we might be growing up. I’m proud of him, I’m proud of us.

:::

We hadn’t said much to Madeline about the surgery. Rather than trying to explain it, which we knew would scare her, we told her that Daddy had to go to the doctor to have his shoulder fixed. We said nothing about the hospital; after her experience with Croup! we knew that the h-word would be met with panic.

When I picked her up from her dayhome that day, I told her that Daddy couldn’t wait to see her. She was sad that he wasn’t in the car, but at that point he was in too much pain to go out wandering with me. All was well until another mom, picking up her daughter, asked what hospital had done his surgery.

“HOSPITAL???” Madeline shrieked. “HOSPITAL? Is Daddy still there? What’s surgery? Where are my boots? Is he okay?”

“Daddy is fine, he’s absolutely fine, he just has a very big band-aid and we have to be careful with his arm-”

“WHY? What did they DO to him? Did he have BLOOD? Did they make him drink that yucky stuff??? OH NO, is he OKAY?”

All the way home she fretted and cried, and she sprinted to our front door only to be foiled. “OH NO, IT’S LOCKED!! DADDY!! DADDY, I’M COMING!”

Once I’d gotten the door unlocked she burst through, then stood there staring. He was sitting up, arm in a sling, bandage visible. ”Hi, munchkin,” he said. 

“Oh NO Daddy, what did they DO?”

We distracted her quickly with the job of helping me fill his ice pack, and eventually she braved up enough to sit next to him and tentatively touch the bandage. We sat there on the couch, talking about her day, and I thought: this. This is what I want, right here. Safe and whole.

Lucky, because that’s what we have. The undercurrent of worry, for now, is still.