Its not nice to stare

So I am awake and tired. I guess that is better than being awake and unable to sleep, but still the same outcome, a tired day tomorrow. There are things I have to do in the course of the day and unfortunately, I got behind schedule. Nighttime tube feedings are not my favorite reason for staying up late. If I could sleep I'm sure I would be having interesting dreams, I always do after days like today. See, today was a day of stares. Everywhere Maisy and I went today, it was constant stares, and not the happy kind. The grocery store, the fabric store, I even skipped errands and just went home because it wasn't worth it. I think Maisy felt it too, because she started to get upset and when I asked her if she wanted to go home she gave an adamant, "Uh!" A friend (who's husband had to work late as well) met us at for a fast food dinner and she noticed it too. The stares. I'm not sure why. I know it is different for me to be carrying my almost five-year-old, my back tells me every night. I know it seems strange when I use sign language and words to communicate with my child, she understands both, she just can't always give me a response. I know that it seems different, but a lot of things are different. Different isn't bad. I like different. In fact, I love different. I'm sure people don't mean anything by it, but today it bothered me nonetheless. So now I'm going to go feed my different child through a little tube in her tummy and kiss her slobbery cheek. I'll pull the blankets up over her and make sure to cover her purple toes. She'll give me a sleepy little smile, and then tuck her hands under her cheek. I'll disconnect the feeding tube and replace the blanket. Then I'll turn out her night light and rinse out the feeding bag. I'll get ready for bed and think about the day. And the things that stand out won't be the stares, they will more likely be the way Maisy covered her mouth and threw back her head with laughter. Or the fact that the zipper on her jammies was hilarious and I had to zip and unzip them over and over just to see her giggle. Maybe I'll remember the little shiver of delight when she realized it was just her and I in the car on the way to the store. Or her excitement at the Mickey Mouse fabric (followed by her tantrum that I wouldn't buy it.) So starers be gone. I love my girl and all the staring will never reveal her miraculous story.