Things for Which I Am Thankful

You know, I just read a story on msnbc.com about a woman who lost her 7 month old son to bacterial meningitis. I don't know the woman, but her story made me very sad. *gasp!* I am human after all.
When my precious Golden Boy was born, there had been a complication. A major one. For days, we had no idea whether he was going to make it. Not that we'd admit doubt at the time. He was in the NICU, hooked up to many machines and tubes. We couldn't hold him, some days we couldn't even touch him because his blood pressure would shoot up. It was a horrible, terrible time. Needless to say, we didn't sleep in those weeks. Even when he pulled though it, we were told there may have been organ damage, and given a laundry list of potential developmental delays he may have to contend with.
Aside from asthma when he was very small, he's had absolutely no problems. Whew, right?
That scared the holy hell out of me. I'd never been so scared in all my life. Scared me so much that it took me five years before I was ready to try again.
That second time, everything was perfect. I got to hold my baby, keep him in my room, and take him home the next day. It was sheer bliss, I tell you. I wouldn't let him out of my sight.
Then when he was 7 weeks old, he woke up with a very high fever. Off to the ER I went, lugging my burning baby. Initial test came up negative. I helped curl him into a ball on his side so the doctor could do a spinal tap. That was bad. The news was worse - elevated white blood cells, indicative of meningitis. The moment they said that, I feared blindness, brain damage and ... oh my... it can be fatal. Then people came in with full body suits and masks to take more tests. They said the suits were for their protection. I had kept it all together until then. That's when I started to cry, when I had to call my husband and tell him what was happening. They started IV antibiotics, and called the CDC. It was a nightmare. Days went by. Again with the not sleeping. The woman from the CDC visited with him, and he smiled and gurgled at her. They pronounced it VIRAL meningitis, not bacterial. It cleared up and went away. He's as healthy as a ... ummm, well he's really healthy now.
Whew.
Parenthood is not for the weak.

We had two close calls, and every day of my life I'm aware of that. Women who have lost children are a mystery to me. There's some kind of strength there that I'll never understand (and don't want to - that's one club I don't want to join) When I was just a kid, a distant cousin died when she was 14. I remember saying to my mom that it would be so hard to have a child for that long, then lose them. She said that it doesn't matter at what point you lose a child, it's still hard. *Here comes my oblivious kid nature* I said, If you lose a BABY though, you barely know him or her, so it wouldn't be as hard. (Did I mention my mother did, in fact, lose a baby?) See, the things you don't understand as a child! So, I know Mother's Day just passed, but maybe this is just a reminder that mothers who have lost children - at ANY point - are still mothers.

(Almost) Wordless Wednesday

Honest, I was going to just post the pic. Then I decided to tell you know what Belly said when he got mad at me later in the day. He crossed his tiny arms over his little chest and said, "I want to take back the black shirt that says Mom. I don't like it anymore."
This rotten treatment - on Mother's Day, no less - simply because I wouldn't drop what I was doing to take him to Blockbuster. Grrrr..... But Golden Boy came to my defense and asked his little brother how he'd feel if Momma decided she only wanted one kid. Of course, Belly assumed that meant I'd be sending his older brother away.

Fat chance, kid.

A Mother's Day Story

Here's my first re-post.... Does that make me a tired old blogger??

*Mother's Day*

The day began at 10am and as it was Mother's Day I was given the rare privilege of sleeping in. I woke to the scents of coffee and breakfast. I got up, put on the fluffy robe that had been thoughtfully laid next to my bed, and walked out of my freshly vacuumed bedroom, pausing only to blow out a cherry scented candle that had been lit for me. I went downstairs into my gleaming clean kitchen to see that the table had been set for me with fresh flowers. My 2 beautiful children ran to hug meand give me hand made cards and drawings that express their love and gratitude for their one and only "Momma". I went to take a bubble bath, with only the sound of Mozart softly playing in the bathroom. I came out and effortlessly pulled on my size 4 jeans and a top that made me look adult and cute at the same time. My family was ready to go when I came out, with a fully stocked diaper bag and plans to head to the Art Institute and lunch at a trendy new outdoor cafe. After a pleasant day out, I returned to my home to watch a Disney movie with the kids while my loving husband said "Don't worry about laundry or bills or anything today. I've got it covered. Oh, and dinner will be ready in 20 minutes."

In actuality I will wake up to the shrieks of my 18 month old as he tries to escape his play pen/prison. My 7 year old will whine about not being able to play video games, not having his friends over, and not being leader of the free world. My husband will burn the coffee and my room will be covered with whatever my dog decided to shred in the 5 seconds she was left alone in there. I will get 1 Hallmark card that no one remembered to sign. Bubblebath will be replaced with showering 2 small children and then being left with only cold water for myself. And wish as I may, those jeans will still be a size 10. After an hour of standing at the door shouting "Come on guys LET'S GO we don't have all day" we will finally leave, only to get 2 blocks away and realize there are no diapers in the diaper bag, and my 7 year old has to use the bathroom. Sidewalk cafe lunch turns into Denny's, and all our orders will be wrong. Frustrated, I will walk into my house and realize I have no clean clothes, the kids have no clean clothes, and the dog has shredded my checkbook. I will have thrown dishes in the dishwasher and forgotten to start it, so there will be no clean dishes either. My toddler will be overtired and threatening to blow up, so I will collapse into bed with him, thankful that Mother's Day is only once a year.

Threat of Bodily Harm

Here's a heartwarming story, just in time for mother's day.

Last night Belly was over tired and very sensitive. Kind of like me lately! Anyway, he kept crying over every little thing. Told him to finish his dinner, he cried. Told him to go brush his teeth, he cried. I went upstairs to check on his progress, he was standing in front of the toilet, pants around his ankles, crying. He'd started crying when he was preparing to pee, and GB started laughing, which only made him cry harder. Then he went to jump on my bed, started crying and said he only likes to do that when he's happy, but not when he's sad.

Eventually I ended up holding him like a baby, in the middle of my bed, rocking him and telling him how much I love him. Nice, warm moment, no? My mother had been using our computer, so she comes in to ask a question. She tried to distract Belly, and challenged him to a race back to the living room. Belly doesn't turn down a challenge. So off he ran. She said, "Come on, we'll beat your Momma!" and do you know what he replied?!

"Okay! Beat her with what?"

The little guy went from being comforted in my lap to threatening to beat the hell outta me. WTF? Where did such violent tendencies come from?!

Just so you know, when he realized what Grandma meant, he came back to me crying that he was sorry. Poor little guy had a rough day. I forgave him. But I'm watching my back now.

Rats AKA Soft as Mashed Bananas

Oooohkay, I'm here to tell you guys just how idiotic I really am. Our neighborhood is battling a rat problem. The city has put out poison, which leads to dead rats all over the place. Seems our best defense is to keep all openings around our garage blocked off. See, they tend to stay in the alley, not in the streets, back yards, or houses. Thank god, could you see me running around after rats all day? So, they burrow and gnaw their way into the garages on our block, I guess looking for food or someplace warm and dry. Who knows how rats think??
Since this is NOT healthy for any humans, we have been looking into ways to stem the rat tide. We put out glue traps, figuring it wasn't poisonous (don't want our domestic pets getting sick) or messy. I fully expected to come out one morning and find a dead rat on a glue trap. THAT, I can handle all by my lil old self. Use the shovel and dispose of it's dirty little corpse.
What I did NOT expect is what I saw when I got home with Belly today. A tiny little rat, stuck on the glue pad, facing a corner, sitting very still because it's terrified. Belly noticed it, too. It only took me about five seconds to decide there was no way I was throwing the trap with the rat into the trash. So what did I do? Go ahead and laugh now - I used the shovel to help the little thing get out of the trap. As soon as I started trying to free one of it's feet, it started squeaking. It didn't turn and attempt to bite the shovel (which I expected) but instead it just fought harder to try to get out. As I got one little rat foot at a time out of the trap, it stopped fighting so hard, stopped squeaking, and kind of just waited. When the final foot came loose, it shot away through a small hole in the corner.
I threw the trap away. Then Belly asked me if the "mouse" was okay, if it got to go home to it's mom and dad. I said yes.

What kind of lunatic sets rats free? This one, apparently. That thing is damn lucky that I'm running on hormones this week.

Pulp Fiction Explains Friendship

Received phone calls this morning from two old friends. Both were part of the very small group of 3 that were with us when we got married, all those years ago. One kind of drifted away, and we stopped talking. We’d been extremely close for a period of time, and I suppose it just fizzled out. She’d show up every now and then, then she’d be MIA for months. Eventually she became MIA permanently. Yes, I know the phone works both ways and I could have called her. But I didn’t. Anyway, she called to invite me out for her birthday this weekend. I said I’ve already got plans.

The other is a childhood friend. We’ve been through a ton of shit together. We’ve annulled our friendship many times over the years. I’ve heard you don’t really know your friends until you get into a fight with one. By that measure, we must be great friends. He’s one of the few people I’ve stopped talking to and actually started again. But we were always able to pick up where we left off. Lots of friendships can’t survive that kind of thing. And the other thing that's exceptional about our friendship: we can just sit and be. You know that scene in Pulp Fiction, when Vincent Vega and Mia Wallace are at dinner right after they meet?

Mia: Don't you hate that?
Vincent: What?
Mia: Uncomfortable silences. Why do we feel it's necessary to yak about bullshit in order to be comfortable?
Vincent: I don't know. That's a good question.
Mia: That's when you know you've found somebody special. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably enjoy the silence.

(Long before we got married, my husband and I spent many hours just sitting together, doing nothing, talking about nothing, just enjoying being in the same space. It's one reason I know I married the right person.)

So, this morning I heard from two old friends, both unexpected calls. The major difference was in my reaction to the phone calls. In the first, I was pretty quiet, made polite inquiries as to the health of her family. In the second, instead of being guarded and wondering how long it had been since I’d talked to this person and why they were calling now, I said, “Hey, I’ve missed you! Whatcha doin?”

The fragility of friendship has always interested me. You don’t always need a big reason to stop being friends with someone. Sometimes, you need a big reason to remain friends. And when it comes down to that, I’d say your friendship has just expired.

My Bedroom

Both of these pics were taken from my bedroom yesterday. The tree in front of our house is in full bloom, and it's LITERALLY right in front of the window now. Yeah, I could have it trimmed, but I enjoy it too much :) The other is my demented and defective cat, Clementine, being annoyed by my picture taking interrupting her nap.
Gave Eva dog a bath yesterday. Poor thing looked at me as if to ask, "What did I ever do to you to deserve such treatment?!" She looks (and smells!) much better now.

This morning Belly came into the kitchen furiously rubbing one eye and crying that it hurt. I stood him on a chair to better appraise the situation, but he kept rubbing -mashing, more like- that eye with his tiny fist. Tried flushing it with water, couldn't even get him to open it, he said it was burning. Finally his eye opens and it's NOT FACING THE SAME WAY AS THE OTHER ONE! I got nervous because I was sure he'd severed some optical nerve, but it turned out it was because he was trying so hard to close his eye again, not because it was preparing to drop out of his skull. Spent twenty minutes flushing his little eye with cool water, extracting eyelashes from said eye, that had obviously been rammed in there by his fervent eye rubbing. Checked his vision, proclaimed him a-ok. Lemmetellya, no one is more vigilant about eye health than yours truly, after almost going blind from some rare and hard to pronounce disease. Kids were quite late for school after that. Ah, must be a Monday.