the many guises of happy sad

Ah, the many guises of Happy Sad. This past week has seen a sick, hand foot and mouth HS. A HS who totally duped her mama into rushing her to see the doctor. It itches mama! Owie! followed by frantic itchy body rubbing on the sofa. No appetite. Grouchy.


Even though we'd read everything online, it seemed time to bring her into the doctor. Not her normal doctor who was out of town, but some other lucky fellow. Now don't forget, HS LOVES the doctor. The elevator. The waiting room. The whole shebang.

By the time the doctor came in, Els had already charmed the pants off the nurse and earned herself two lollipops and two stickers. The complaining and itching was replaced by smiling and extreme articulation. When the doc arrived, Eliana proudly introduced herself:

Hi, I'm Eliana. This is my mommy, Gillian.
Wow. My two year old boy barely speaks. She's incredible.
Oh, is that your stethoscope?
Um, yes.
Oh! And that's the clean white paper on the examination table?
Well, yes.
Oh! And that's your otoscope too?



By this point I was equal parts in love and furious. I wanted a diagnosis. A prescription. An answer. I had taken the afternoon off from work because Eliana was too sick. Eliana hopped off the doctor's lap and happily played with toys on the floor, reading the ABC's off of some toy, again making the doctor pause and remark.

She looks absolutely perfect. It's a little virus. Tylenol three times a day and she'll be perfect.


And such is life with Happy Sad. My little bright light, totally dialed in to how to inflict the utmost pleasure. Until I open her gummy fruit pack from the wrong side. Or I give her the pink spoon instead of the blue. And all hell breaks loose.

I love those parenting books that tell you to just ignore a toddler's tantrum. How does one ignore that kind of ridiculousness? Eliana isn't really one to throw herself down on the ground and thrash about. It's not that simple. It's all vocal.

You NEVER do that mommy! Never Ever! You NEVER do that to me!

You mean I never open your gummy packet that was a special treat that I never should have broken down and bought for you at the check out because they were just sitting there, on special, those goddamn organic gummies?


NEVER mommy!

And perhaps at this very moment, after a four a.m. bedtime due to extreme pregnancy discomfort coupled with extreme pregnancy active mind, after fetching Happy way too many stalling snacks, reading too many books, singing too many songs, it's easy to vent a bit about the Sad side of our little spitfire.

But this is just a tiny blip. Like our weekend, when the spots went away and the energy returned and she found herself blissed out on a pony at her buddies birthday party or racing around the park for hours with a posse of children she adores. She's such a kiddo now. So down to play hard and not wonder where I am. I actually parked my large loveliness on a blanket in the sunshine and rapped with my girlfriends for two hours while Els ripped it up with the dudes on the equipment.

Last night our colleagues had a little shower for us. Eliana approached Baby Brother's gifts with maturity and an open-mind, helping me unwrap tiny blue and brown onesies. She's developing sweet rituals with him these days. Washing him multiple times in the tub. Singing him songs. Though tonight when Jeff asked what her what she was going to do when she met her brother she said, Throw him on the bed! with one of her wild eyed grins. Perhaps their newfound tackling funfests are not exactly the best for cultivating a gentle child.


I seem to be marooned on this island in my home. My island is calm. Mildly uncomfortable. A bit hazy. Extremely grounded. The rest of the crew (Lucy included) are amp-ed up, ready to wrestle, play chase, and talk extremely loudly. Ah. Thank god for this moment at the computer, headphones filling my space with beauty, no movement in my periphery. Perhaps that's why I stay up all night long. But then I have to take deep breaths to deal with the collective snoring of dog and husband because even in sleep, they never seem to be quiet. Of course, I deeply love that snoring cacophony, so rich in it's uniqueness, it's irony. I do love that all more than anything in the world. And even a large, exhausted woman needs to get goofy, remember to roll with it, because time is certainly not waiting for me to rest up. The adventure has fully begun.