My girl. Have I told you today how brave you are? I must have. Because you continue to amaze me. You’re staring down the barrel of your fourth (fourth!) kidney infection in as many months, and aside from the odd groan or unhappy wake up we have barely noticed you’re ill. We talked to your teacher, she said kidney infections are worse than delivering babies med-free. I’ve delivered two babies med-free, Nik. You are my hero.
I often hear people remark about you. How you speak, your unique look, your inquisitive nature, your odd sense of humour. I can’t blame them…even as your mother I am often caught in awe of you. When I heard you might be switching teachers, I got immediately scared to tell you. Scared you would be upset and how would I assure you everything would be ok when I wasn’t sure myself? I summoned up all the courage in my body and sat you down. Your response? “Do I still get to take the bus with Bella?” “Well, sure kiddo.” “Ok.” And off on your merry way. Chalk one up for Annika, you won that round, sweet thing.
Your grace at an age where you should be a bull in a china shop, it leaves me speechless some days. You handle change quietly, with some reservation…and always with questions. You need to know the details, you want to know the truth. We answer only what you ask and it seems to satisfy the curiosity enough to quell the fear.
Dad & I have been remarking over the past few days how awful it is that you can now predict your own kidney infections. You tell us, you know what the outcome will be and you flow pretty easily in it’s wake. Flip your head side to side while at the pediatrician’s office so she can check your ears. Remark how this time the cups you have to pee in are white instead of orange. Comments like, “I know I have to drink this juice, but I really don’t like it. How bout when I finish it, you get me a glass of chocolate milk? Deal?” (sidebar: Cranberries: Y U NO taste good?)
Trust me, sugar, we are trying. Mommy is making sure you don’t slip through the cracks of paperwork stacked at a doctor’s office. We promise that every test we make you endure is for a purpose and not to fulfill a blind checklist. If you keep being strong, Mommy just might be able to borrow some of that courage through osmosis. (yes I know you don’t know what osmosis means. Let’s Google it.)
Sweet little girl…such a mystery to me. I don’t mind. I’ve got all the time in the world for you, Nik. I’ll understand when you’re ready to show me…piece by piece.
I love you. Every single part.