One day Anni was twirling and singing one of her original compositions.
"It's my gift!" she declared.
Dizzy, she fell with spectacular gracelessness.
Laying on her back on the tile floor she began flapping her arms and legs
as if she were making a snow angel.
"Falling down is also a gift!" says she.

Friday, June 24, 2005

The Most Ludicrous Reason to Sob Big Fat Tears of Sorrow

That last entry really took it out of me. Hence the weeklong silence - although I did discover that leaving those entries up there for so long sometimes draws out some new commenters (breaking the uncomfortable silence?). So I was a bit sad and also a bit busy. We had the filming of the organ donation PSA here on Friday. I had envisioned having lots and lots of post-transplant kids frolicking joyfully in our background (filmed through a vaseline-smeared lens, of course), but in the days before the actual filming, all the kids cancelled except for Joey, a boy about Annika's age, and Jorie, a fantastic woman who was transplanted as a child 21 years ago! Wow. Of course, that's the way it goes when you're dealing with post-transplant kids. Your situation can change overnight. And it's not just your child's health, although that does always feel like a tightrope act, but also all the emotional and financial stress that just naturally come along. Still, I was disappointed, and a little worried that so much would now depend upon Annika saying something that didn't make it sound like standard post-transplant care includes putting kids on LSD or other mind-altering substances (standard Annika quote: "You have the Pusky Power!" or "Darn it, Bandit Me!"). Luckily the other 4-year-old, Joey, was not camera-shy in the least (once his parents left the room, that is), and didn't display any tendency to speak in his own private made-up language. And he was just unbelievably cute and dimply. Annika avoided looking at the camera as much as possible, and completely freaked when they tried to put the microphone on her (I should have explained that one to her beforehand, as she has the typical overly-hospitalized child's fear of people attaching things to her person). The (reporter?/producer?) T.V. woman was quite good with kids, though, so she just put the microphone on herself and sat on the floor near Annika, while still remaining out of the shot. Annika was not being very cooperative until we hit upon the idea of having her "read" her favorite stories for Melinda (TV woman). Finally she seemed to forget the camera was there and, although her stories were sometimes a bit disjointed, she did look up and give the cameraman a big smile as she pronounced, "And they lived happily ever after!" Now if they can't use that in a PSA designed to emphasize the happy success of organ transplants (which is how Melinda explained her concept to me), well then I don't know what to say.
Annika's going to swim lessons 4 days a week. Yes, 4. But I was pretty sure that was the only way she was going to make any progress, as the 6 once-weekly lessons that we took at the Y seemed to have no impact whatsoever. She has already passed to the second level, and even went off the diving board last week (when I didn't have my camera with me - can't they just implant that thing somewhere in my arm or hand?) after only 7 lessons and she was the only one in her class brave enough to take the plunge.
Linguistics Degree at work (No, those weren't wasted years! They weren't!): Frankie's begun pronouncing Consonant-Vowel-Consonant clusters. So, for example, "milk" has gone from "muh" to "muhk". Actually, it has gone from "muh" to "muhccccccchhhhhhhhh," with that last consonant sounding like the back-of-the-throat gargle of the German "ch," as in "Bach," but pronounced by an American who is way too concerned about staying true to the correct German pronounciation and so drags out that last sound much too long for comfort. That's what she sounds like. Yay, Frankie!
Finally, a special section called The Most Ludicrous Reason to Sob Big Fat Tears of Sorrow (age 1 1/2): Your book won't stay open (OPEN! OPEN! OPEN!)when you remove your hands from the pages. (age 4 1/2): Your mom tells you that you will be on T.V. ("But how will I get out? I want to stay with you! PLEASE!") (age 34): Tie: Your $20 MP3 player, which you have been anxiously awaiting and bragging about for days like the loser cheapskate you are, doesn't actually produce any sound detectable by the human ear, although the display is nifty. OR Someone sends you an email denigrating your suggestion for a textbook as "inappropriate" on the same evening that you watch that PBS special that again trots out the (accurate, but nonetheless painful) assessment that adjuncts are bad for the University system in this country. (Yup, I'm an adjunct with no prospect of non-adjunctness.) Alright, I didn't actually cry about those last two. The first two, though, are actual genuine tear-producing events of cataclysmic proportions. So, anyone have any other good ones to add to the comments section?


Blogger Sarahlynn said...

Age 1-1/2:
You've recently learned to climb up onto all the furniture, and the mean adults will not let you dive off sofas, chairs, or beds head first. How rude and frustrating.

6/25/2005 1:40 AM  
Blogger Bettie Bookish said...

Someone put your mi-ult in the cup with out the handles, the pink one when y ou wanted the green one WITH the handles, and then, AND THEN, they had the nerve to put the top on when they KNEW you wanted to DO IT YOURSELF!!!!!!!!
Did I mention this was Age 2? Did I have to?
Age 36:
You skipped lunch because you were really busy and now it's after 6 and you look in the refrigerator and there is not one single ounce of the hummus you thought was there.

6/25/2005 7:48 AM  
Blogger Moreena said...

Oh, those are good! It's funny how I think it is so amusing how upset my kids get over the silliest little things, but then I take a few steps back and realize that I still do it myself, too. Still, the examples from the kids have the added bonus of following a logic that is beyond our grasp.


6/25/2005 9:22 AM  
Anonymous candace said...

Age 13 months:

The cat MEOWED at me when I pulled her tail. For the tenth time. MEOWED. Never mind that she has all her claws and could have done much worse, she MEOWED at me!

6/25/2005 10:34 AM  
Blogger Moreena said...

Yes! Frankie does that one, too! And when the neighbor's dog so much as glances her way she exclaims "Ow!" and puts my leg in a death grip.

6/25/2005 11:10 AM  
Blogger Phantom Scribbler said...

Age 11 months and 28 days: What do you MEAN, I can't eat Daddy's glasses?

Age 3 and 23/24ths: Sunscreen. Just... sunscreen.

Age 35 and 2 days: Omigod, is that what I look like in my bathing suit??

6/25/2005 2:32 PM  
Blogger liz said...

Age 3yrs, 4months: Mommy wants you to eat your dinner BEFORE eating oreo cookies for dessert.

Age 36yrs, 3 months: All my favorite bloggers keep taking week-long hiatuses. I MISS YOU. COME BACK!

6/25/2005 8:56 PM  
Blogger PPB said...

oooh. I got nothing, but this is a great question.

6/25/2005 9:51 PM  
Blogger Moreena said...

I totally stole the ending with a question thing from you, PPB!

6/25/2005 10:24 PM  
Blogger trisha said...

Age 36:

I have to clean my room???!!!

6/25/2005 11:31 PM  
Blogger Sarah said...

(age 2 months)"mommy, you really should have had my bottle ready the minute before I knew I was hungry!"
(age almost 4) "But I'm not ready to leave the pool yet"
(age amost 8) "you will only let me check 6 books out from the library, your the meanest mommy!"
(mommy)"you mean I can't use the bathroom without being interupted!"

6/26/2005 10:01 PM  
Blogger Yankee T said...

age 53: Your daughter turns 17 but she's in Australia so you can't wake her up with the birthday song. Wah.

6/27/2005 8:01 AM  
Anonymous Laura said...

Age 13 months: You are eating a few Cheerios while your parent mixes your morning oatmeal and when you see what's going on, you must immediately begin to cry because otherwise said parent will not know how incredibly hungry you are.

6/30/2005 3:21 PM  
Blogger Scrivener said...

Wonderful question.

Age 2 and 1/2: You're home with daddy for the day and he's going to the bathroom when you ask him if you can have some juice. He answers, "Yes, you can have juice--just as soon as I'm finished I'll fix you some." Your response: "Welllll, you told me no!" and then huge sobbing tears.

Age 34: The only time I've "sob[bed] big fat tears of sorrow" recently was after reading your previous post. But that doesn't seem so ludicrous.

7/07/2005 11:11 AM  
Anonymous FB said...

I have to clean my room???!!!

9/24/2009 8:45 AM  
Blogger beautiful said...


11/06/2009 11:41 AM  

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