Come on Mommy, Dance!

Two Mondays ago, we spent the day at AI duPont Children’s Hospital, confirming that Catherine needs surgery. Not just any surgery. A surgery where they will cut her bones on both her hips and one of her legs. A surgery that anticipates enough “discomfort” that Catherine will have to be out of school for a MONTH! And then – we’re told she she should be completely “comfortable” in 3-6 months. What? It makes my skin crawl.

“Discomfort,” of course is a euphemism for pain. And I really bad one, I might add. I just can’t let myself think about that much pain for my little girl. I say, “Bring on the drugs!” Not just for her; for me. Two weeks later, and I still can’t stomach it.

Thankfully, Sarah has a way of providing her own drugs for the pain.

When I come home at night, Brian frequently has music streaming through the TV on Pandora. We still play our game as I walk through the door:

Whoooooooo gets kisses first?

Daddy!

Whoooooooooooo gets kisses second?

Cackie!

Whooooooooooooooooooooooooooo gets kisses third?

Sarah!

Giggles and squeals still make this a perfect end to any sort of day. And now there is a new addition.

Sarah starts to wiggle and jump and run around in circles and then yells as loud as she’s figured out her lungs will allow:

Come on Mommy, Dance!

And so we dance. It barely matters what the music is, though fast is always better. We dance and giggle and spin and hug. And the reality is that this drug will do… for now.