One year ago today, my daughter had two organ transplants that saved her life. After four long years of constant medical intervention, we lived in fear (and still do, to some extent) for another 365 freakingly long days, wondering if every fever was a portent of rejection and every malaise was a sign of horrors to come. How is my little darling celebrating this milestone, you ask? By running around the house, half-naked, shrieking at the top of her lungs to demand that the toof fraary play with her. I know my daughter, peeps. Shes not interested in an equal exchange of quality time and interesting repartee. Oh, no. Really, she just wants that elusive little flitting fairy to bring more toys. My husband says we should watch ourselves at night. Our new fear is that our crazy child will probably try to pull one of OUR teeth in order to trade it for whatever Tinkerbell has up her translucent sleeve. He has hidden all the tools and kitchen gadgets. Oh, what a difference a year has made. Bunny is five and as close to healthy as we can get right now. Hide the pliers and hear her roar. Crazy Two (who has a hell of a lot to be thankful for this year!)
Posted on: Thu, 20 Nov 2014 12:56:56 +0000
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