I was taking a shower. There were no small people trying to open the curtain or sitting on the toilet, talking to me. It was remarkably quiet and steamy in the bathroom. The children were in Frances's room, playing.
Huh.
It happened again today. After my shower, I got dressed and brushed my teeth. I went downstairs and cleaned up our breakfast dishes. I collected library books to return. I put in a load of laundry. The children played on! What was going on? I became suspicious. Or maybe I was getting a little lonely, and feeling neglected. How is this even possible, having longed for more time and space for myself, and for more independent children? The mysteries of motherhood...
So I poked my head into my bedroom, where I found them on my bed.
What are you guys doing up here? You've been so quiet.
Without looking up from her work on Artie the aardvark, Frances muttered, that's because we've been doing surgery for five whole days.
Gabriel was the nurse/surgeon's assistant, and he was taking the job very seriously. There was a lot of measuring involved.
I asked Frances to tell me what was wrong with Artie, and here is what she said:
There's a serious cold down her throat that pushes her lungs back. The white cells are trying to get in. She could get so sick, and very ill. She could die! So I'm trying to push the white cells out, back into her arms, and let the red cells be in her body. So. I'm going deep down into her throat and helping to get them out. I need her to be still. Perfectly still, for about one and a half days.
Gabriel stared at Frances and nodded in agreement during this explanation. Frances was a little irritated to have to break it all down for me. I suddenly realized I was getting in their way, so I left.
Huh.
(But not before documenting some post-operative snuggling.)
3 comments:
I'm so glad I wasn't there to witness this as I am laughing so much right now. I don't know if I could have stifled it all. I hope Artie survived. Orange ardvaarks must be an endangered species so we can't afford to lose him. But he certainly has the best medical care and I feel sure he is going to pull through - even though it is hard to stay still for one and half days!
Awesome! It is truly the sweetest feeling when you see your children friendly together. Maria told me this when I was pregnant, that this is the brightest moment of parenthood, and I think she's right. This sounds kinda morbid, but I think maybe it reassures us that we have birthed a new generation that will survive after we're gone. There's something about the love and self-sufficiency of the two children together than makes me feel superfluous. In the best way.
Oh yes, I completely agree. The fact that they belong to each other, play on the same team - it is extraordinary for me. I always have to stop and watch. I wonder if it will ever become old hat, to see them play that way. I just hope their intimacy continues to grow.
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