Seems I have a case of the blues. I'm not sure why things are deciding to resurface now but here they are and they're punching me right in the eye sockets. We had a wonderful Thanksgiving and are SO looking forward to Spencer's 1st holiday season. But things creep in. Pain. He is totally unaffected by anything. He is happy and growing and thriving and sweet. But I am feeling pain for the both of us and I need it to just STOP. I wasted so much time being sad when he was in the hospital. That is time I can't get back. I don't want him to ever feel sad when I'm around him. I want him to feel like I am his Number 1 Fan, because I am. I never want him to think that I'm sad because of him...not BECAUSE of him but sad on his behalf.
I have to shake this. I have to just cry when I'm not around him, get it out of my system, and move on. Christmas is going to be amazing with Spencer, I know this. I don't want to miss a minute of it because I'm stuck in my own head.
Yesterday he started physical therapy to help with his muscle tone. He's not behind yet but he's a risk to lag. Well, he kicked ASS. His therapist saw incredible improvement from when he was initially evaluated. She was happy and encouraged with the progress she saw. Everything she was hoping he would do, he did. So we left with some simple exercises to work into his home routine to give him a little boost. He wants to hold that head up for longer periods of time. He keeps trying to sit up on his own. He wants to see the WORLD. And damn it, I'm going to make sure he does.
He kicked cancer's ass. He's going to kick therapy's ass.
And he's going to kick my ass if I don't get it together. I've always been his pal. Constantly at his side, pushing him, playing with him, helping him, loving him. He needs me to help him be the best he can be. And I truly believe he's going to "show" everyone and be totally mind-blowing. I think he's going to blow my mind and I ALREADY think he's exceptional.
I just need to get over this hump. I have to think positive. I have NO OTHER CHOICE. I look at the 12 pictures of him on my desk at work, his smiling, goofball face and smooshy cheeks staring back at me and I swear, each one is saying, "Mom, everything's going to be cool. I'm OK".