It's been approximately 6 weeks since Drew had his brain surgery. Time flies when you're trying to keep an active boy inactive.
Which is why Drew and I were SO excited as we drove to school Friday morning. Since he returned to class, his only limitation has been that he had to sit out of P.E. and recess until he returned from Thanksgiving break. But in a moment of generosity, I decided that the day before Thanksgiving break was close enough. I jotted out my permission on a scrap piece of paper. He clutched the note tightly in his hand and jumped out of the car.
"See ya, Mom!"
And ever since I signed my name to that little piece of paper, my son has gone from this:
I'm remembering the words of warning our surgeon gave us several months ago. About how he may become even MORE active once the Chiari Malformation was corrected.
Those telling words rang in my head when my son took a flying leap off the swingset at the playground this morning. They echoed as I watched him run sprints back and forth across our backyard for no reason at all.
As I sit here and type this post, he's running back and forth between my room (where his shows are on T.V.) and the living room (where I'm watching the Amazing Race), all while donning a pair of underpants on his head.
I'm exhausted just watching him for the past few days, and I shutter to think of what the next week of "vacation" from school holds.
Ah... If I only had superpowers of my own...