A little discourse and a poem...

Tomorrow Daddy Mac and Miss Sunshine head off to the big city of Chicago for her one year (that is now over eighteen months!) post-op and clinic with Shriner's.  This will be the first trip to Shriner's EVER that I have not gone with her.  Daddy is of course up to the challenge, but the control freak side of me is having a VERY hard time letting him take over here.  It is time, though.  He wants to be more involved, he wants to help me not have to deal with the stress all on my own, he wants THIS.  I need to let him have it.  I will not, however, be surprised if, when he gets home, he informs me he never wants to do this again!  I'm kidding, of course, he will be more than happy to handle a trip if I need him to.  She is, after all, his "baby doll".

The kids are having an amazing summer.  Last summer, I was beyond stressed.  Monster Boy was, well, a monster.  His behavior and attitude were horrendous.  Miss Sunshine was, well, a mess.  We were worried about her speech, her development, her weight, her growth, just her in general.   It was a very long and very stressful summer, for all of us.  THIS summer has been night and day different.  Don't get me wrong - I still frequently get a show of six year old attitude, but in general, Monster Boy has been practically angelic.  He is listening well, being so very helpful, doing what he is told to do, or asked to do, with little to no complaints.  Miss Sunshine, well, we aren't nearly as worried about her these days, so there is that weight lifted at least.  I sometimes think, though, that Monster Boy has been so good to give me a break since she has been so bad!  We are full on into the terrible twos, and at this point, I am DREADING the terrifying three's.  She was a late starter with the terrible twos, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that just maybe we have skipped the two's and she's getting the three's out of the way early.  Only time will tell, I suppose.

And last but not least, another poem for you.  I know you have been waiting with baited breath (or, you know, not...) so here it is.  This is a poem I actually wrote in college.  In fact, it didn't even start as a poem, but as a song.  I came across it the other day, and as I was reading it, instead of picturing myself in the poem like I did when I wrote it, I saw my daughter.  And I prayed that night, with all my heart and soul, that she NEVER feels this way.


Insecure

She spends 3.95 on a magazine
Trying to be what they say she should be
and she wonders why
She has no self-esteem

And every day she stares in the mirror
Looking at everything she dislikes

And every night she cries

She's so tired of having to try

And she wonders why
She has no self esteem

And as hard as she looks
And as hard as she stares
She never sees
The beauty that's there
And she wonders why
She has no self-esteem