Friday, 11 December 2009

This and That

It's 3.15 am. Shannon's up at the hospital with Maggie. I've just finished feeding Alice. I'm waiting for her to drop off so I can go to bed. Sleep? Pah. I laugh at sleep. As does Shannon. We're constantly laughing.

I was going to sort out some photographs and write something about what's going on at the moment. But I'm too tired and fed up with it all.

But here's a thing: Shannon bought Maggie this dopey plastic sheep thing that can be strapped to the side of her cot. It lights up and plays a selection of tunes. A standard baby toy that I've seen a million times before. Shannon played it to me this morning - Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star - and I cried like a baby. Because it reminded me that, despite all the damage and all the crap surrounding her at the moment, she's still just a little baby girl. Our baby girl. It's hard to explain but I bet the parents out there know what I mean.

We were talking about Xmas today (note secular spelling) and have decided that we will have one. We've got the kids - Louie and Isaac - for the new year so Xmas Day will just be me, Shannon and the girls. But, of course, Maggie will be at the hospital. Which explains why we've been avoiding talking about it. If you were going to wish a shit Xmas on someone you couldn't do better than wishing them a child in hospital. Still, I'm sure we'll find a way of pretending that it's all okay really.

Ah, self-pity. In the early hours of the morning. I'll be reaching for the Jack Daniels next. Actually, I think I will. Hold on.

That's better. Jack Daniels on the rocks.

Self-pity *and* self-indulgence. Excellent.

Actually, in lieu of me writing anything meaningful I'll direct your attention to another blog about another little girl with cerebral palsy. Her name is May. She's six-and-a-half months old. Her mother, Stacie (who writes the blog), is American (or was American) and is married to a British fella. So there are a few similarities that go beyond our daughters. Anyway, it's a great blog. It's well-written (almost as well-written as this one), informative and entertaining. Yes, entertaining. Stacie (Lewis) is a proper published writer you see, so she knows what she's on with.

Like us, the Lewis's have their ups and downs. They too have run-ins with medical people. So you can see that it's not just me and my funny ways. Her most recent post is about the crap she got from a pharmacist. A pharmacist! If you imagine what it must be like to be the parent of a disabled child, it'll make your blood boil. It's a good illustration, I think, of how you can just get so worn down with unnecessary crap from other people.

The other thing about her blog is that it gives us a little insight into where we might be in a few months' time. That is, where May is now, Maggie will be soon.

Maggie and May. Maggie May. They should form a band.

It's here: Mama Lewis. Have a read.

Finally, music. I tell you, it's become that much more important and thrilling now that we know Maggie can hear. So this is for her - one of my favourite Beatles songs and one that is often overlooked. Smashing vocal by John. Go on, brighten your day by grabbing two minutes of loveliness:

1 comment:

  1. Almost as good! I'll have you know I'm a published author!

    BTW - May wants in on the band. She's particularly into monkey sounds at the moment. But, she has one stipulation - it's May and Maggie. Not Maggie and May.

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