This is not a post about Michael Jackson

Yesterday was my daughter’s last day of 1st grade. She cried at school and then she got off the bus with tears in her eyes. I thought her sad mood would last a lot longer than it did once we got inside. Then she found out who her 2nd grade teacher was going to be and she got all interested in looking at the pictures in the yearbook. We went to the library (nothing cheers you up like a good Mary-Kate and Ashley book!) and then for pizza and saw a friend from her class there. They had a hilarious conversation in which they estimated the ages of the 2nd grade teachers. They’re probably all younger than me. Her friend said that one teacher was probably fourty, like that was the biggest number she could come up with. I decided not to tell her how old I was. I didn’t want Piper’s friend to think her Mom was a Golden Girl. I was pleased to see that she was able to get happy and not dwell on all the goodbyes of the past week. A year ago, she had a much harder time dealing with all those pesky goodbyes but then again we had a lot of other stuff to deal with. One year ago today I had an appendectomy and ended up in the hospital for 4 days. Remember, I told you about it here? Piper has been SO freaked out these last couple of months. I knew she was worrying about the end of school but I thought she was taking it a little too far. Now I’m thinking it might have been because she associated the end of Kindergarten with a very scary event in our family’s life. She saw the end of school coming and got very anxious about it. Why didn’t I see this sooner? Doh!

I was really really sad that I missed her getting off the bus on her last day of Kindergarten. Glenn brought her around to see me in the hospital the afternoon after my operation. They were sweet, they brought me magazines and some DVDs from home. I was groggy and sore. I remember trying to watch WALL-E and struggling to pay attention. I just kept nodding off. I started to get antsy as soon as I started feeling better. By Saturday into Sunday I was done with the whole thing and really wanted to get out of there. To prove how well I was feeling I was determined to get myself up and out of bed without asking for any help. This was a little tricky when they moved my IV from my left arm to my right arm. The IV pump plugged into the wall on the left side of the bed but they had to move the pump closer to my right arm after the switch. Getting out of bed to take a walk or go to the bathroom meant that I had to first gingerly get up on the left side of the bed, unplug the pump, toss the cord across the bed, walk slowly and carefully around the end of the bed making sure to bend and extend my right arm as far to the right over the bed as possible so I wouldn’t pull my IV out, all the while trying not to rip out my stitches in my incision. When I returned from my walk or bathroom trip I’d have to repeat the whole dance in reverse and collapse on the bed in exhaustion afterwards.

Piper and I are both so much better than one year ago. For this I am thankful.

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