Open letter to "happydog"

Thanks for writing. I always appreciate insightful comments and criticisms from people who comment on my blog. The open communication is part of what makes blogging so enjoyable. It's the anonymous people who offer up criticisms that I find irritating.

I typically ignore people like you, but since you brought up some emotionally-charged fodder, I had to reply. So let me break things down:

• Pity Party...

I'm entitled to a pity party anytime I like. That is one of my rights as the mom of two young kids, who--like most kids--have the ability to be naughty. Just today, for example, Preschooler in Chief thought it would be a good idea to saturate the family room with the hose. It was hot out, so I can see why he thought it might be a good idea to cool things down in the house. But in actuality, it was a bad idea. Soggy books, drenched toys, and a wet wool carpet contribute to the overwhelmed feelings that I wrote about Sunday, which in turn, prompted your comment.

It is my kids' jobs to push the envelope as they learn boundaries and figure out how they fit into our family and our society. And, yes, it my job to reel them in and help them understand right from wrong in a loving and supportive environment. I can love my kids and hate my kids at the same time. It's mommy multi-tasking. It's a complexity of the human condition. And, by the way, it's totally normal.

• A Little Gratitude...

Your lame suggestion that perhaps I need a little gratitude shouts that you know nothing about me. While I am currently frustrated and tired with the mundane parts of parenting, I'm filled with gratitude. If you've read much of my blog you would have found countless posts that acknowledge my generous husband, our supportive family, and our network of amazing friends. You would have found posts that find humor in my kids' quirky behaviors. You would have found forgiveness and glimmers of goodness squeezed between hospitalizations and medical drama.

• Thanking My Lucky Stars...

I, more than anyone, know all about my son's medical condition and how lucky and appreciative and thankful I am for the technology, the surgeons, the friends, family and medical staffers that have helped my family through hours, days, weeks, and months of being in the hospital and being surrounded by the possibility of death. I, more than anyone, know all about being grateful that my kid is alive. That my kid has been out of the hospital and has led a relatively healthy and normal life for more than a year. I, more than anyone, know that everything can change in a minute. I, more than anyone, know that there will be more hospitalizations. That there will be more surgeries.

Because you don't really know anything about me, you can't possibly know what I think or what I feel or how I struggle with the life I've been given. I don't have the luxury to know what it's like to raise two healthy kids. I don't have the luxury to be blissfully ignorant about the future. I have never known--not even for five minutes--what it is like to be a mother without thinking that my son is going to die. And don't think that I don't know how all that knowledge makes all my frustrations and guilt that much more complex.

• Sad Medical Crisis'...

I specifically remember during one of PIC's hospitalizations that I was just constantly grateful that he was breathing, that his tiny body was still living, despite the massive trauma it had been though. I felt that way for several weeks after he was discharged too. And then one day, I got angry at him for something. I remember that moment as being profound because it meant that things were going back to normal. And that was a good thing.

Just because PIC has medical problems does not mean he gets a free pass. It does not mean that we'll never argue or disagree or that he'll never get on my nerves simply because I'm grateful he's alive. It doesn't work that way. I'm doing my best to treat him like a normal kid. To praise him no more and no less than a kid who has not had five heart operations. To punish him no more harshly or less harshly than his heart-healthy little brother. I'm doing my best to treat him as normally as possible. So that means I have the right to get annoyed with my kids and the mundane and repetitive part of parenting. It doesn't make me a bad person. It makes me human.

Finally, thanks to everyone who offered support and advice. It has been a rough couple of weeks, but I'm taking steps to get out of this slump.