Not Always So Sweet

How are Gemma and Joshua doing?

Really well. The thing they have going for them is that, like all children, they are extremely self-centered. As long as they feel secure that all is right with their parents, they are all about themselves. They must be pretty secure, then, because they are as self-interested as ever.

It helps that it's summer, and that's the season of friends! They love being outside with the neighborhood children and Gemma's solitary goal these past 3 weeks has been to play with someone. And my neighbors have been so kind and helpful to have her over often for playdates while I've rested at home. Joshua has taken a lot of naps lately, which is his contribution to my recovery. (And probably his way of registering and managing the stress.)

But as for the title of the post. My 2 Gemma and Josh entries thus far portray the sweet side. Here's a little picture of the cherubs when they're not at their best:

2 days before the surgery, we got home in the afternoon following our consult, with the pressure of the srugery vs. chemo first decision newly upon us. Plus, I was about 2 hours away from the start of my sugar reaction to the glucose, and so was already feeling icky.

Mom had suggested we go out to dinner as a family--you know, before the surgery while I was feeling great. We expected a long and painful recovery from what was supposed to be a very severe procedure, so we figured we'd have our fun early.

This is why, when Gemma's next-door-neighbor friend, Kate, invited her over to prance in the sprinkler, Grandma told her "no." That is, we would be heading for the restaurant in less than an hour, soon after Mom and Dad returned.

Plus, Gemma had told her that morning that she had a sore throat. Mom didn't want it to get worse given that she was going to stay at Miss Betsy's the next night for several days. Why not send a healthy kid instead?

Bryan and I, a little stressed out, walked into the scene of Gemma having just been denied a sprinkler dance with her friend.

And she was ticked.

I got the scoop from Mom and figured
a) Got to back Grandma's play--especially since she'll be in charge of the kids for the next 2 weeks and
b) Gemma had developed the habit, back in October when I broke my ankle, of complaining of fake maladies, often imitating whatever pain I was having. Man, it was going to be a long year if she was going to keep doing that. I knew the sore throat thing was not real, so this would teach her to pretend!

When I told Gemma that Grandma was right, there would be no sprinkler action, she freaked out. Started yelling and stomping her foot as she--to her exquisite frustration--searched for the right words to convince me: "But I want to play with Kate SO BAD!"

There's no reasoning with a child in this state. And I felt her frustration. And I felt amused at her foot-stomping. And I remembered being the child throwing the fit.

And in the midst of this, Joshua, the little brother who daily puts up with mothering from Gemma got right up in her face and said, in his older-wiser-too-bad-for-you-voice "No, no, Gemma. You cannot play outside. You cannot play with Kate!"

Gemma stopped her yelling. Stuck her hands on her hips. Pursed her lips and narrowed her eyebrows at him.

He continued with the lecture, "Mommy says you have to stay inside. You cannot play outside, Gemma!"

She reached out and pinched his cheeks in one hand. Pinched his mouth shut. He has big cheeks and his lips looked like a fish and he seemed not to mind his sister's hand on him.

Silence.

Then she let go.

Then he said, "No, no, Gemma. You cannot play with Kate. You cannot play outside. . ."

Then I burst out laughing.

And that really ticked her off.

It ended with her in her room until she could calm down. And my call to Kate's mom to assure that, yes, tomorrow, if it was hot and sunny, they'd do the sprinkler again. And our decision to opt out of the restaraunt because by then no one was in the mood. And then my sugar reaction started, to I was glad not to have wasted the meal.