Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Sometimes all you can say is "yes, my daughter is wearing Hulk underwear."

Sometimes kids irritate the crap out of me. Mine, yours, my patients, WHATEVER, they are children and therefore irritating. This doesn't happen often but when it does I just need to take a step back. A bad thing about being a pediatric nurse, at least for me, is the survivor's guilt. If Wonderboy is having a bad adhd day I tell myself "Jesus Tif, get a grip. I bet so-and-so's mom would be ecstatic with an adhd diagnosis instead of the one for METASTATIC CANCER, you ungrateful bitch." and when that happens I get hit with the bone chilling certainty that any child, any time, is susceptible to some sort of horrible diagnosis, accident, parent. And I feel bad on multiple levels-for them, their families, myself. Myself for always thinking the worst thing (leg pain? ITS CANCER!) instead of just chilling and enjoying my kids. Its not healthy to berate myself for getting irritated constantly because of what I see at work. Its not fair to my kids. It just freaks me out and makes the guilt/irritability cycle worse and causes 2 a.m. anxiety attacks where I cry for getting on to them-never mind that they deserved it-and I just want to pull their sleeping selves out of bed and kiss them and apologize.
But then somedays, most days, I look at my kids and just love them. And while I wish it were everyday that I was a better parent, I just have to remind myself that parenting, like medicine, is a practice. And kiss my kids and take pictures of them in their leggings and brother's underwear. Over the leggings. Because this is how we roll.
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

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