waiting for the touchdown dance

Okay, I haven't gotten off to a good start on this blog as I haven't written anything since Jan. 11! Wasn't my New Year's resolution to write more??? Anyway, I have a good excuse for the last few days at least. My 21 year old son had to have a needle biopsy on an enlarged lymph node in his neck. Needless to say, my mind goes directly to the most dire worst-case scenario and I'm back in full mother mode. There is no way this mothering thing is ever going to get any easier. And every time I'm silly enough to convince myself that I'm almost done with all the worrying involved in the tangled mess that is parenthood, I'm brought back to reality that nothing short of my demise will free me (and even then I'm not so sure). Seeing your child hooked up to IVs, enduring a painful procedure that you can't do a damn thing about humbles you. It's at those vulnerable moments that I can't help seeing him as the rambunctious five-year-old that jumped into my lap begging me to kiss his latest boo-boo to make it all better. That I could then and can't now is a killer.