A couple of years ago, when Emma was in her coma, I was walking through the halls of St. Jude in my usual hurry/daze. I was always hurrying because I wanted to get back to Emma's side, but I was always in a daze because, really, I was out of my mind.
On this particular day I passed a mom and son. The son was pre-teen'ish and had apparently done somethig smart mouth'ish. His mom was letting him have it.
In that moment the desire to do anything so normal as discipline my child was so strong it was palpable. I wanted Emma awake. I wanted to see her blue eyes and hear her voice. I didn't care if she was being bad, horrible, wretched. I wanted her. I wanted things to be normal again.
Today I ate those feelings.
That's right. We went grocery shopping and a few minutes into the trip my girls starting fighting. Like hit-each-other-won't-stop-crying fighting. I was mortified and hurried through the shopping trip with little dignity. I was one of those moms, the ones with the rowdy kids.
I didn't lose my cool (good for me), but the check out lady, who was wonderful about the whole thing, told me my face was as red as Elmo. If you know me in person you know that she was correct, because I do turn VERY red when I'm embarrassed.
As soon as I was in the car I remembered that day in Memphis, and I laughed. Yep. I'm normal again, and I totally cherished the moment.
On that note, here is a picture from recently, of Emma with her first lost tooth (a very regular event). Yay for normal days!