I’ve branched out with my renovation effort, but this is more about vengeance.
My daughter is now 28 years old. Where, oh where, does the time go? I remember her being wrapped snugly in a blanket and handed to me. She was born with a head full of hair. It looked like a shag rug. All the nurses made comments.
She was also born with another distinctive trait. I noticed it right away. They took her to the nursery. As we’re sitting there waiting, I said, “There comes Merissa.” My husband questioned how I knew. That cry. It was high pitched, nearly an ear-piercing screech. How he didn’t recognize it I couldn’t understand.
I was instinctively that momma bear. If you doubt that’s a real state of mind, I can assure you that some of us take motherhood very seriously. While some may say too seriously, I say not. Children didn’t ask to be, so they deserve a parent, and hopefully two, who’ll be there and who cares, sometimes with a vengeance.
Being a mother had its fun moments.
When she was about 2 years old, I’d sit by the bed and she’d come running at me. I’d lift her up, flip her over my head and she’d land flat on the bed bouncing. She wanted to do that over and over. We might have shook up some brain cells. It was fun, though. That was before everyone had trampolines, and I assume our flipping sessions were similar to that thrill.
Being her mother had its stressful moments.
When she was a baby, she started breaking out. It was a rash that just kept spreading. I took her to about four doctors and received four different diagnoses and treatments. I took her to the emergency room, just to see if they knew more than family practitioners. Nothing helped. By that time, the rash covered her body.
I was determined. Made an appointment with Dr. Mann, who walked in, took one look at her and immediately diagnosed her with milk sensitivity. She wasn’t throwing up, so other doctors dismissed it. He changed her milk and the rash went away. After months of stress, crying and effort, it was finally over. I was so relieved.
Fast forward to today. Last week my daughter stubbed her toe on a five-tier shelf rack I have in the hallway. Apparently, she has done that before. This time was a bit more painful, which prompted her to mention it to me.
Momma bear habits never go away. Bumped to the top of my project list for this weekend is renovating that area so I can remove the offending piece of furniture, take it outside and smash it with a hammer. Vengeance is mine. That thing must go and the sooner the better.
Standard reporter Lisa Hobbs can be reached at 473-2191.