While we were sitting in the waiting room at 6am, I realized not for the first time that my children are very different. In the 20 minutes we were just sitting there, Adrianna alternated between sitting on my lap and standing right next to me, and the loudest she got the whole time was while singing the ABC song. I am quite certain (by which I mean, this is what happens every other time we do stuff like wait in waiting rooms in the last 5 years) that Kristina would have been running all over the place, climbing all over the furniture, and throwing at least one fit in that same amount of time of not-directly-entertained waiting. And I should probably admit that this difference wasn't a particularly bad change of pace for me that morning.....
As a parent, this was my fourth time going through the song and dance of surgery with a child, and therefore I wasn't nearly as freaked out by the conversation with the anesthesiologist as I had been the first time when Kristina got her tubes in. I don't know if the part of "mom freaks out less when they say you could die" is a perk or not from being the second child.
However, Adrianna did manage to be uniquely and ridiculously adorable when she convinced the nurses that her Little Mermaid doll also needed a hair net as part of surgery prep.
She also convinced the very same nurse that her ears REALLY hurt post-op, despite the standard issue Tylenol suppository she got, and managed to get a dose of baby Vicodin before being released.
Thus she spent most of the car ride home singing Old McDonald Had a Farm with nonsense noises for the animal sounds and laughing hysterically at it each time. I'm still not sure whether I was a good parent or a failure for not capturing this on a video just because I was "driving" during it.
Once at home, I took her out of her car seat and stood her on the ground for a moment while I reached back into the car to pull out the rest of our stuff. She promptly fell over and bonked her head on the car. Luckily, she looked more confused than anything, and then started laughing hysterically again when I suggested I carry her into the house.
(Good news world! She's going to be
After getting into the house and showing off her intoxicated state to my parents, I managed to convince her to sit on the couch and watch a movie (since she wasn't exactly having much luck with the whole standing/walking thing right then).
And once the Vicodin wore off, she seemed to be back to her normal not-taking-a-nap-despite-mommy-wanting-one self. A couple days of antibiotic drops and occasional pity dose of Tylenol saw her signed off as all better, with a follow up ENT visit in a few weeks just to make sure placement is set for the tubes themselves and to discuss when to re-screen her hearing.
The best part, however, is that one of her preschool teachers already said she's noticing an improvement in her language skills. Here's hoping...