Dancing Through the Day

Micah awoke on Monday with an ear infection. If he was a normal kid, I'd have probably sent him to school, thinking he was trying to get out of going. I reminded him half a dozen times to get dressed, and he groused at me louder and more vehemently each time. As I stooped to help him with the chore that was obviously too much for him, he pointed to his ear and started sobbing. While totally bogus in any of the other 3 kids, Micah knows no guile. If he's complaining of pain, it's legit. So I flagged his van on and we headed to the pediatrician.

I am convinced that every eighth kid in the county was sick. I have never - in 17 years of parenting - seen the waiting room that crowded. And we got to sit beside That Family. You know the ones, we all do. Obnoxious, loud, whining about work on their cell for everyone to hear, and yeesh the smell. Since the waiting room was crowded when we got there, and we took the last remaining seats, I knew the wait would be long.

We waited, and waited, and waaaiiiitttteeeeddddd. Another family came and was called back before we were, and by that time we'd been sitting for an hour. Another half hour passed (and a query at the receptionist's desk) before we were seen. My time schedule for puppy feeding was being heavily infringed upon. I was getting quite impatient, despite the fact that I made a good inroad on a new book.

Micah, who is notorious for his lack of patience in situations like this, was a reminder to me that I should just chill a bit. He was actually glad to be there, pointing to his ear and asking for help. He watched a movie on the iPad, and played games, and watched TV in the waiting room. He never grumbled or tried to run out. He didn't even resort to somersaults across the waiting room floor. He was one sick puppy, poor kiddo.

When we finally got into an exam room, Micah was thrilled to be that much closer to being seen. He chose to celebrate by hosting a Dance Fest for our special benefit. He chose every dance scene on every video on his iPod and broke out every move he knew. Twice. It was pretty awesome. And then my boy was the most cooperative he's ever been, even impressing the doctor. (She knows him well, she does.) He was so compliant, and happy to be there, and grateful for the help.

And then I rushed home to feed puppies before running back into town to pick up antibiotics, and the frustration level kept rising. It wasn't until I was home (again) that I sat down and reviewed my day. Why am I so stressed by deadlines and time schedules? Why do I let life get me down sometimes? Micah was so sick he willingly let a doctor look in his ears, and he had to wait nearly 2 hours for the help he needed without complaining. In fact, he chose to dance instead of grumble.

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Micah awoke this morning with the stomach flu. Because he's Micah, he simply soiled himself while dancing. (Literally) I chose to follow his lead. Despite being a little more tired than usual due to the loss of a few sleep shifts and a whole lot of stress yesterday, I sallied on with my day, just glad that he felt well enough to dance instead of laying around feeling miserable. I may be too tired to dance on the outside, but I danced right along with Micah on the inside today. We live a good life, and my disabled son reminds me of that every day.