Dear Ex-Pediatrician,
The last time I saw you, you broke my heart into a million pieces.
When you said you were moving across the country, I forgot how to breathe.
You came into my life, when I had given up. I had no hope. While the other pediatricians told me I was an over anxious first time mom, you listened to me, and addressed my concerns. Instead of rolling your eyes at me, you looked through the charts and saw my reason for concern.
Because of you we were pushed through to see the specialist and get the necessary tests. Without you we probably never would have had the chance for Alex to get the surgery he needed.
You helped renew my faith in medical professionals.
After you left, we bounced from one pediatrician to another. We saw big ones, we saw small ones. We saw old ones, we saw young ones. After another visit of being bullied and ridiculed, I would sigh deeply and say "I wish Dr. P was still here.".
But then we met someone. Someone else who listened and addressed our concerns. When we choose to do something outside of the mainstream way of thinking, she helped us achieve our goals. I stopped wishing you would come back.
Then today, as I gingerly walked through the crowded pediatric lobby, praying that my healthy children would hold their collective breath and not touch anything. I saw you. I have to admit, you looked familiar, but I couldn't put my finger on who you were until I looked at your name tape.
Excitement coursed through my body as realization hit me.
You are back!
Visions flashed through my mind. First of you ordering Alex's allergy tests, then of our current pediatrician ordering donor milk for Spain. Examples battled in my mind as I grappled with the dilemma: Stay with our current pediatrician, or try to get you back.
All day long I deliberated. I thought I had decided, and then I would change my mind.
Finally I made a decision. What we had was wonderful. You restored my faith in medical professionals, and because of you, my son can breathe... Literally.
It's been three years though, and we've moved on. We're happy in our relationship with our current pediatrician. I can't throw that away.
You'll always have a place in my heart.
Thank you for everything.
Showing posts with label alex. Show all posts
Showing posts with label alex. Show all posts
Friday, September 7, 2012
Sunday, September 2, 2012
Musings from a mother
I often wonder how much value is placed on our children. I don't mean how big is their life insurance pay out.
I mean, how much do we value their contribution to society?
I chuckle when I hear the term "Life skills". Life is what is happening every day. From the moment we are born we start learning and assimilating skills . We study our environment consciously and unconsciously. We learn how to respond to social cues and situations. It's an ongoing process that we never stop cycling through.
When Alex was born, he relied on Sweet Husband and I for everything. In one very short year he could get from Point A to Point B on his own. He could feed himself, and he could communicate with us in broken English.
Two years after that, he could use the bathroom by himself. He understood the other people had feelings. He could still communicate with us in broken English.
Four years after that, he is starting to learn multiplication. He can grasp concepts in physics. He can read books by himself. He can write a letter by himself.
Every year he continues to grow physically and mentally. He is maturing and picking up new attitudes and behaviors. Every year he is evolving into the man he will become.
I have to constantly remind myself that Alex is not three years old anymore. He has new capabilities now, and if I don't allow him a chance to exercise these new attributes, I cannot expect him to become a contributing member of society.
As his parent I need to allow him the opportunity to explore and expand his skills.
One day Alex will be an adult. It will not be a rapid transformation, but a slow metamorphosis.
My hope is that he will be able to interact with people, regardless of their culture or age. My prayer is that he will never stop seeing the humanity in other people, and that he will value their contributions.
I want my child to interact with people that are much older than him, and with people that are much younger than him. I want to learn first hand about compassion and teaching. I want him to hear firsthand accounts of life before the internet and cable tv.
I want him to know that we can celebrate our differences.
I want him to have the confidence to think for himself.
I want my child to interact with people that are much older than him, and with people that are much younger than him. I want to learn first hand about compassion and teaching. I want him to hear firsthand accounts of life before the internet and cable tv.
I want him to know that we can celebrate our differences.
I want him to have the confidence to think for himself.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Three things
March has been a rough month for us.
Just when I started to think that we had found a groove of normalcy, both of the boys had health issues pop up. We discovered that Spain stopped gaining weight whenever Sweet Husband deployed.
We had a blood test run to check his iron levels, which turned into a horrifying string of events. The phlebotomist kept uttering "This has never happened before." and "I don't know what to do." Which is never reassuring, and even less so, when they have a needle inserted into your child's arm.
The tubing for the needle was defective, so his blood kept bubbling in the tube. Spain ended up with a blown vein, a deep seated fear of needles, and we never got the results of the blood test. The lab forgot to run the tests.
We scheduled another appointment for a few weeks later, and I turned on my "Jewish Grandmother" charm. I began to offer Spain food ALL. The. Time. I did "normal" things, like buying avocados by the case. And crazy things, like making breast milk yogurt, from our freezer stash. A pediatric dietitian I spoke with suggested I give Spain butter, just little slices of butter occasionally. Like a dutiful mother, I obliged. I discovered that Spain LOVES butter, as long as he can eat it directly from the package. Every time I gave him a slice of butter, he eyed it suspiciously and then would fling it behind his booster seat.
Finally our follow up appointment arrived. We gleefully discovered that Spain gained a pound. Unfortunately after a slightly less horrifying blood draw, we also discovered that Spain is currently iron defiecent. We've started him on an iron supplement, and I'm hoping that once we get his iron levels back to normal, the weight issue will resolve itself.
Not to be outdone. Alex has developed new allergies. We don't know to what yet, just that it's environmental. The poor child has been covered in hives for weeks. He doesn't even notice them anymore. Which does not leave me feeling warm and fuzzy.
During a particularly rough week, I decided I needed to choose happier thoughts to dwell upon. Three things. I told myself Find three good things that happened today.
At first it was difficult. I would strain to think of three good things that had happened each day, but now I'm finding it easier every day. The biggest perk though, is that I don't feel like a unwritten Edgar Allen Poe poem anymore.
Which is good. Because I'm surround by vibrant colorful scenery, and I really should stop and enjoy it. I'll only have this year once. Spain and Alex will only be young once, and if I'm only focusing on surviving this deployment, I'll miss it.
Today my three things are:
1. Alex lost his fear of water he can't stand in. We spent a couple hours at the pool. He kept swimming back and forth
2. We went on a nature walk, and spied flowers, windmills and butterflies.
3. I'm going to bed before midnight.
Just when I started to think that we had found a groove of normalcy, both of the boys had health issues pop up. We discovered that Spain stopped gaining weight whenever Sweet Husband deployed.
We had a blood test run to check his iron levels, which turned into a horrifying string of events. The phlebotomist kept uttering "This has never happened before." and "I don't know what to do." Which is never reassuring, and even less so, when they have a needle inserted into your child's arm.
The tubing for the needle was defective, so his blood kept bubbling in the tube. Spain ended up with a blown vein, a deep seated fear of needles, and we never got the results of the blood test. The lab forgot to run the tests.
We scheduled another appointment for a few weeks later, and I turned on my "Jewish Grandmother" charm. I began to offer Spain food ALL. The. Time. I did "normal" things, like buying avocados by the case. And crazy things, like making breast milk yogurt, from our freezer stash. A pediatric dietitian I spoke with suggested I give Spain butter, just little slices of butter occasionally. Like a dutiful mother, I obliged. I discovered that Spain LOVES butter, as long as he can eat it directly from the package. Every time I gave him a slice of butter, he eyed it suspiciously and then would fling it behind his booster seat.
Finally our follow up appointment arrived. We gleefully discovered that Spain gained a pound. Unfortunately after a slightly less horrifying blood draw, we also discovered that Spain is currently iron defiecent. We've started him on an iron supplement, and I'm hoping that once we get his iron levels back to normal, the weight issue will resolve itself.
Not to be outdone. Alex has developed new allergies. We don't know to what yet, just that it's environmental. The poor child has been covered in hives for weeks. He doesn't even notice them anymore. Which does not leave me feeling warm and fuzzy.
During a particularly rough week, I decided I needed to choose happier thoughts to dwell upon. Three things. I told myself Find three good things that happened today.
At first it was difficult. I would strain to think of three good things that had happened each day, but now I'm finding it easier every day. The biggest perk though, is that I don't feel like a unwritten Edgar Allen Poe poem anymore.
Which is good. Because I'm surround by vibrant colorful scenery, and I really should stop and enjoy it. I'll only have this year once. Spain and Alex will only be young once, and if I'm only focusing on surviving this deployment, I'll miss it.
Today my three things are:
1. Alex lost his fear of water he can't stand in. We spent a couple hours at the pool. He kept swimming back and forth
2. We went on a nature walk, and spied flowers, windmills and butterflies.
3. I'm going to bed before midnight.
Monday, January 30, 2012
It's the little things.
"Mama is 'Okay' with a 'k-o' or a 'c-o'?"
"O-k"
"No, how do you spell 'okay'?"
"O-k"
"MAMA! How do you spell 'okay'?!"
"It's an 'o' and a 'k'."
"Oh! Ok!"
I love moments like these! :)
"O-k"
"No, how do you spell 'okay'?"
"O-k"
"MAMA! How do you spell 'okay'?!"
"It's an 'o' and a 'k'."
"Oh! Ok!"
I love moments like these! :)
Saturday, January 28, 2012
Artistic Endeavors
Chances are, that if you've had a conversation with Alex, he'll slide the fact that he is an artist into the discussion. In fact, you may find yourself one of the lucky few who he offers to take under his wing, to help you too, become an artist.
It really should come as no surprise that sometimes I find myself wondering what life must have been like for the mothers of some artists.
Did Picasso's madre ever chastised him for drawing on himself?
Perhaps Pollock's mother discovered a toothpaste creation on the bathroom mirror.
Do you think Michelangelo's mama ever saw her washtub splattered with paint?
Maybe, just maybe Monet's mum revoked his pen privileges.
"Kill-Joy" Isn't my middle name. It's just part of my job description.
It really should come as no surprise that sometimes I find myself wondering what life must have been like for the mothers of some artists.
Did Picasso's madre ever chastised him for drawing on himself?
Perhaps Pollock's mother discovered a toothpaste creation on the bathroom mirror.
Do you think Michelangelo's mama ever saw her washtub splattered with paint?
Maybe, just maybe Monet's mum revoked his pen privileges.
"Kill-Joy" Isn't my middle name. It's just part of my job description.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Out of the mouths of babes
Sometimes it's hard to be Alex.
Especially when you throw an uncle who's younger than you into the mix.
Yes, you read that correctly. Alex has an uncle that is younger than him... Eleven months and three days younger to be precise.
It leads to an interesting dynamic when we go visit. Alex firmly believes that since he is older... And slightly taller, he should have the privilege of making more decisions, and choosing activities than his uncle. Whereas Uncle Uri believes that his position of "uncle" deserves the utmost respect and power, regardless of his youth.
On there hand, they manage to surprise me quite frequently. We were recently cruising the aisles of Target together. Uncle Uri and Alex were seating in the basket of the shopping cart speaking in low tones together while I was searching for something for Sweet Husband. I sudden;y caught a snippet of their conversation and tuned in.
Alex: Jesus is God. And God is good.
Uncle Uri: That's right. We love Jesus. I love Jesus.
Alex: And we need to avoid idols!
Uncle Uri: THE DEVIL IS AN IDOL!
Alex: Yes. The Devil is an Idol. And Idols are....
Both: BAD!!!
Uncle Uri: Say "NO" to idols.
Alex: Yes. Say "No" to Idols.
And then they began to sing "Let your light shine".
I never thought I would push a revival through the aisles of Target.
Especially when you throw an uncle who's younger than you into the mix.
Yes, you read that correctly. Alex has an uncle that is younger than him... Eleven months and three days younger to be precise.
It leads to an interesting dynamic when we go visit. Alex firmly believes that since he is older... And slightly taller, he should have the privilege of making more decisions, and choosing activities than his uncle. Whereas Uncle Uri believes that his position of "uncle" deserves the utmost respect and power, regardless of his youth.
On there hand, they manage to surprise me quite frequently. We were recently cruising the aisles of Target together. Uncle Uri and Alex were seating in the basket of the shopping cart speaking in low tones together while I was searching for something for Sweet Husband. I sudden;y caught a snippet of their conversation and tuned in.
Alex: Jesus is God. And God is good.
Uncle Uri: That's right. We love Jesus. I love Jesus.
Alex: And we need to avoid idols!
Uncle Uri: THE DEVIL IS AN IDOL!
Alex: Yes. The Devil is an Idol. And Idols are....
Both: BAD!!!
Uncle Uri: Say "NO" to idols.
Alex: Yes. Say "No" to Idols.
And then they began to sing "Let your light shine".
I never thought I would push a revival through the aisles of Target.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
A Christmas Box to Far Away
Sweet husband requested sheets and a pillow for Christmas.
How could I say to "no" to such a simple request? So the boys and I went shopping. We started with sheets. Alex found a set of High School Musical sheets.
"Mama, don't you think papa would like these sheets?"
I bit back a smile. I could almost picture Sweet husband's face opening a package f High School Musical sheets.
"Those are nice sheets. But papa really wants cotton sheets and those aren't cotton." Sweet husband could thank me later.
Alex put the sheets back. "Oh. How about these? Are they cotton?" he held up a package of Tinkerbell sheets.
"Not enough. Papa likes all cotton sheets."
"Oh here's Mickey Mouse! ....And some princesses..."
"Oh these one's are good." I held up a set of cream colored jersey sheets.
Alex looked at me expectantly "There's nothing on them..." he said hesitantly "Are you sure they're cotton?"
Then came the pillow. Alex tested each of them, before settling on a sweetly stripped damask pillow. Then his eyes fell on a solid red rectangle of fluff.
"Mama," he said reverently "it's a red pillow"
"Mmm-hmm," I grunted as I pushed aside a mountain of pillows in from me.
"What does the tag say?" he whispered.
I glanced over absently "It says "Allergy relief"."
Alex's eyes lit up. "Mama, I have allergies."
I raised an eyebrow "That's right."
Alex smiled sweetly, a halo appeared above his head and doves began singing.
"Mama, may I have a red allergy relief pillow?"
Now sheets and a pillow sound harmless enough. Wrap them up, throw them in a box and ship them out, right? Ha! I laugh at the idea of something so simple. First I had to wash the items, and of course, once laundered they grew bigger and puffier. Armed with a few bags, some packaging tape, the vacuum cleaner, and my own personal cheering/crying section (named Spain, for any of you who might be wondering), I attacked the fluffy pile of bedding. I spent more time than I care to admit (hours) folding, refolding, twisting, turning- essentially creating bedding origami. All so I could close the box enough to tape it closed. 25 yards of tape later, I had a box that slightly rocked when touched and was completely waterproof.
Muwhahahahahahahaha!
How could I say to "no" to such a simple request? So the boys and I went shopping. We started with sheets. Alex found a set of High School Musical sheets.
"Mama, don't you think papa would like these sheets?"
I bit back a smile. I could almost picture Sweet husband's face opening a package f High School Musical sheets.
"Those are nice sheets. But papa really wants cotton sheets and those aren't cotton." Sweet husband could thank me later.
Alex put the sheets back. "Oh. How about these? Are they cotton?" he held up a package of Tinkerbell sheets.
"Not enough. Papa likes all cotton sheets."
"Oh here's Mickey Mouse! ....And some princesses..."
"Oh these one's are good." I held up a set of cream colored jersey sheets.
Alex looked at me expectantly "There's nothing on them..." he said hesitantly "Are you sure they're cotton?"
Then came the pillow. Alex tested each of them, before settling on a sweetly stripped damask pillow. Then his eyes fell on a solid red rectangle of fluff.
"Mama," he said reverently "it's a red pillow"
"Mmm-hmm," I grunted as I pushed aside a mountain of pillows in from me.
"What does the tag say?" he whispered.
I glanced over absently "It says "Allergy relief"."
Alex's eyes lit up. "Mama, I have allergies."
I raised an eyebrow "That's right."
Alex smiled sweetly, a halo appeared above his head and doves began singing.
"Mama, may I have a red allergy relief pillow?"
Now sheets and a pillow sound harmless enough. Wrap them up, throw them in a box and ship them out, right? Ha! I laugh at the idea of something so simple. First I had to wash the items, and of course, once laundered they grew bigger and puffier. Armed with a few bags, some packaging tape, the vacuum cleaner, and my own personal cheering/crying section (named Spain, for any of you who might be wondering), I attacked the fluffy pile of bedding. I spent more time than I care to admit (hours) folding, refolding, twisting, turning- essentially creating bedding origami. All so I could close the box enough to tape it closed. 25 yards of tape later, I had a box that slightly rocked when touched and was completely waterproof.
Muwhahahahahahahaha!
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Room for Rent
Alex was recently introduced to the world of Pokemon, which brings an extra layer of joy to my life, as I can't even type "Pokemon" without rolling my eyes.
Recently we traveled across the Earth to visit friends and family, and all the while Alex would randomly ask "When we get home can I watch Pokemon?"
We got home two hours after bedtime. I marched the boys inside and ordered Alex to bed.
"You mean I can't watch Pokemon now?" Alex wailed
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Alex, you have to go bed. You are not watching anything tonight."
Sullenly he obliged.
Imagine my surprise to be woken up the boy begging to watch Pokemon. "Alex, you may not watch Pokemon today. I'm not sure it's completely appropriate for you to watch."
If life were a cartoon, a thunder cloud would have appeared over Alex's head. He glowered at me for a moment, then stomped out of my bedroom. He poked his head back in and announced that he was moving out.
"Where will you go?" I asked, desperately wishing I was not the only parent on duty at the moment.
"I'll buy a house. And live in it by myself!" He huffed.
"Oh. Okay..... How will you get there?"
He pondered this for a moment before answering "I'll have someone drive me."
I nodded thoughtfully. "I'll miss you. You are my favorite Alex."
Alex harrumphed.
"Spain will miss you too. You're his favorite brother".
Alex slammed my bedroom door in response.
I mentally waved good-bye to the idea of sleeping in and crawled out of bed. A few minutes later I was in the kitchen starting on breakfast when Alex reappeared.
"I'm going to have someone drive me to look at houses. Then I'll move out on my own. Without you. AND I'll buy phone that doesn't work so you can't call me. You won't be able to find me."
I nodded thoughtfully "I understand. I will miss you a lot."
He darted off as I called after him "I will still love you Alex!"
When I called him to the table for breakfast he trudged slowly and sadly to his seat. A lone tear trickled down his cheek. "I just don't like it when people laugh at me" he sniffed.
"Who laughed at you sweetie?" More than a little bewildered by this turn of events.
"People just laugh at my jokes, and I don't like it!" he sobbed.
I hugged him close, biting back a smile.
"Sweetie, jokes are things that people say to make others laugh. If you don't want people to laugh at your jokes, don't tell them any jokes."
"I just don't like it!" Alex wailed.
Naively I thought Alex had moved passed his desire to move out. As soon as he finished eating, Alex pulled a suitcase out of my closet. He opened it on the living room floor and began to bring armfuls of clothing from his room and dump it into his suitcase. He folded up the dividers that were in his drawers and stuffed them into his suitcase as well. The entire time he worked he sang a song.
"I'm going to move out.
I'm going to move out.
I'm going to move out.
I'm just going to move out"
I typed a quick note to Sweet Husband to update him on the situation, while Alex was packing. "Did you get your toothbrush?" I asked, trying to be helpful.
Alex turned his glare onto me "Yes. I'm also taking my toothpaste.
A few minutes later Alex found me as I was nursing Spain. Exhaustion rimmed his eyes and he looked ready to weep at the drop of a wrong word. He crawled onto the couch next to me. "I'll wait until after we go to Oma's house to move out."
I smiled and dropped a kiss on his forehead.
He left his suitcase packed in case he changes his mind though.
Recently we traveled across the Earth to visit friends and family, and all the while Alex would randomly ask "When we get home can I watch Pokemon?"
We got home two hours after bedtime. I marched the boys inside and ordered Alex to bed.
"You mean I can't watch Pokemon now?" Alex wailed
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "Alex, you have to go bed. You are not watching anything tonight."
Sullenly he obliged.
Imagine my surprise to be woken up the boy begging to watch Pokemon. "Alex, you may not watch Pokemon today. I'm not sure it's completely appropriate for you to watch."
If life were a cartoon, a thunder cloud would have appeared over Alex's head. He glowered at me for a moment, then stomped out of my bedroom. He poked his head back in and announced that he was moving out.
"Where will you go?" I asked, desperately wishing I was not the only parent on duty at the moment.
"I'll buy a house. And live in it by myself!" He huffed.
"Oh. Okay..... How will you get there?"
He pondered this for a moment before answering "I'll have someone drive me."
I nodded thoughtfully. "I'll miss you. You are my favorite Alex."
Alex harrumphed.
"Spain will miss you too. You're his favorite brother".
Alex slammed my bedroom door in response.
I mentally waved good-bye to the idea of sleeping in and crawled out of bed. A few minutes later I was in the kitchen starting on breakfast when Alex reappeared.
"I'm going to have someone drive me to look at houses. Then I'll move out on my own. Without you. AND I'll buy phone that doesn't work so you can't call me. You won't be able to find me."
I nodded thoughtfully "I understand. I will miss you a lot."
He darted off as I called after him "I will still love you Alex!"
When I called him to the table for breakfast he trudged slowly and sadly to his seat. A lone tear trickled down his cheek. "I just don't like it when people laugh at me" he sniffed.
"Who laughed at you sweetie?" More than a little bewildered by this turn of events.
"People just laugh at my jokes, and I don't like it!" he sobbed.
I hugged him close, biting back a smile.
"Sweetie, jokes are things that people say to make others laugh. If you don't want people to laugh at your jokes, don't tell them any jokes."
"I just don't like it!" Alex wailed.
Naively I thought Alex had moved passed his desire to move out. As soon as he finished eating, Alex pulled a suitcase out of my closet. He opened it on the living room floor and began to bring armfuls of clothing from his room and dump it into his suitcase. He folded up the dividers that were in his drawers and stuffed them into his suitcase as well. The entire time he worked he sang a song.
"I'm going to move out.
I'm going to move out.
I'm going to move out.
I'm just going to move out"
I typed a quick note to Sweet Husband to update him on the situation, while Alex was packing. "Did you get your toothbrush?" I asked, trying to be helpful.
Alex turned his glare onto me "Yes. I'm also taking my toothpaste.
A few minutes later Alex found me as I was nursing Spain. Exhaustion rimmed his eyes and he looked ready to weep at the drop of a wrong word. He crawled onto the couch next to me. "I'll wait until after we go to Oma's house to move out."
I smiled and dropped a kiss on his forehead.
He left his suitcase packed in case he changes his mind though.
Monday, December 5, 2011
It's the little things. Literally
I know. I've been quiet on the blog front. I apologize. I have a decent excuse, I'm just not ready to share it with you quite yet. It's a post in the making.
When you have children you know that situations are going to arise that are unpleasant, unbelievable, and uncouth. It comes with the territory, and even though we know we should expect such things, they always come as a surprise.
When Alex lost his first two teeth, he convinced me to let him keep them in a small clear plastic container by his bed so he could look at them. I'll admit, it's a little odd for me, but in the grand scheme of things it wasn't that big of a deal. The stipulation was that the teeth were for looking at only. Not playing with or touching. This worked wonderfully for several months, then one day as I was folding laundry in the living room, Alex rushed in.
"Mama, my teeth are gone."
"I know sweetie. Remember what we talked about. That's what happens. Your baby teeth fall out so the big ones can grow"
"I know that. I mean my baby teeth are gone."
"You lost more teeth?"
"Yes the ones that fell out. I lost them."
"That's what is supposed to happen."
"No. Mama. My teeth in the container are missing. I don't know where they are."
Just when I start to assume the conversation is destined to be redundant, he throws a curve ball.
We powered through the rest of the day. The teeth long forgotten in the abyss that my mind has become. Alex finally went to bed. Spain finally went to sleep, and I decided to do a quick power sweep through the house before I went to bed. I got to Alex's room, and suddenly I remembered the teeth.
That is how I found myself kneeling on the floor is Alex's bedroom sifting through a pile of debris I had swept up. Dog hair, paper bits and ....was that popcorn? When was the last time we had popcorn? Believe it or not many things can look like baby teeth on the floor. And several of them I could not identify. *insert shudder*
I found one tooth easily, and then I found what I assumed was the other tooth. It looked like a piece had broken off of it, making it harder to identify. I went through the pile again, before reaching the conclusion that the unidentifiable object in my mind was tooth like, and so was probably the missing tooth. It joined the first tooth in it's plastic prison.
I scrubbed my hands and arms like I was prepping for surgery. I'm not sure whether it was the fact that I had touched teeth, or that I had sifted through dirt and touched a lot of questionable items that my skin crawling.
After I was clean, I poured myself my into bed.
Then I remembered that he had lost two front teeth. I had found a front tooth and a "molar".
Oh Lord.
When you have children you know that situations are going to arise that are unpleasant, unbelievable, and uncouth. It comes with the territory, and even though we know we should expect such things, they always come as a surprise.
When Alex lost his first two teeth, he convinced me to let him keep them in a small clear plastic container by his bed so he could look at them. I'll admit, it's a little odd for me, but in the grand scheme of things it wasn't that big of a deal. The stipulation was that the teeth were for looking at only. Not playing with or touching. This worked wonderfully for several months, then one day as I was folding laundry in the living room, Alex rushed in.
"Mama, my teeth are gone."
"I know sweetie. Remember what we talked about. That's what happens. Your baby teeth fall out so the big ones can grow"
"I know that. I mean my baby teeth are gone."
"You lost more teeth?"
"Yes the ones that fell out. I lost them."
"That's what is supposed to happen."
"No. Mama. My teeth in the container are missing. I don't know where they are."
Just when I start to assume the conversation is destined to be redundant, he throws a curve ball.
We powered through the rest of the day. The teeth long forgotten in the abyss that my mind has become. Alex finally went to bed. Spain finally went to sleep, and I decided to do a quick power sweep through the house before I went to bed. I got to Alex's room, and suddenly I remembered the teeth.
That is how I found myself kneeling on the floor is Alex's bedroom sifting through a pile of debris I had swept up. Dog hair, paper bits and ....was that popcorn? When was the last time we had popcorn? Believe it or not many things can look like baby teeth on the floor. And several of them I could not identify. *insert shudder*
I found one tooth easily, and then I found what I assumed was the other tooth. It looked like a piece had broken off of it, making it harder to identify. I went through the pile again, before reaching the conclusion that the unidentifiable object in my mind was tooth like, and so was probably the missing tooth. It joined the first tooth in it's plastic prison.
I scrubbed my hands and arms like I was prepping for surgery. I'm not sure whether it was the fact that I had touched teeth, or that I had sifted through dirt and touched a lot of questionable items that my skin crawling.
After I was clean, I poured myself my into bed.
Then I remembered that he had lost two front teeth. I had found a front tooth and a "molar".
Oh Lord.
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
A musketeer and a sheriff Joe
The best part of Halloween is dressing up.
We are currently reading "The Three Musketeers", which came about after Alex decided he wanted to be a musketeer for Halloween. When asked which musketeer he was, he answered "Just a red one".
Sorry, Athos, Porthos and Aramis. He'd rather be a generic musketeer.
We are currently reading "The Three Musketeers", which came about after Alex decided he wanted to be a musketeer for Halloween. When asked which musketeer he was, he answered "Just a red one".
Sorry, Athos, Porthos and Aramis. He'd rather be a generic musketeer.
Monday, October 31, 2011
Potty Talk
WARNING: The following contains graphic material and may not be suitable for everyone. Read at your own risk.
We had just returned from our camping trip, and My dear friend Mrs X had stopped by to visit. Alex was running around like a crazy person, Spain was fighting an impeding nap, and I was just glad to be out of the car.
Mrs X and I were sitting on the couch talking, Alex had disappeared And Spain needed a diaper change. Suddenly we hear a frail "Mama" wobble from the hallway. The cry became frantic "MAMA! MAMA! IT WON"T STOP!!". The hallway was empty when I peeked around the corner, the commotion was coming from the bathroom. I rushed to the bathroom and my soul withered. Alex was standing next the bathtub hopping around the floor on small dry islands, as the toilet spilled over. Water rushed into the hallway as I took in the scene.
My brain suddenly acknowledged what was happening. I raced back to the living room and handed Spain to Mrs. X. I darted to the dining room table where my phone was innocently resting by a collection of our mail. Without stopping, I grabbed the phone and raced back to the bathroom. Water was taking over the entire bathroom and a nice expanse of the hallway. With one foot I leaped onto the Go Diego! Go! stool that I seriously doubted could support my weight, and the other foot I braced on the top of the toilet tank. I simultaneously leaned over the toilet to grab the plunger from the corner, scrolled through the contacts list on my phone to find the maintenance number, and prayed fervently for the toilet, for me to not fall into the toilet, and for the rapture to happen that very moment.
My hand wrapped around the handle of the plunger as I hit the send button on my cell phone. In my precarious perch, I nestled the phone against my shoulder, adjusted my footing, and plunged the plunger into the abyss. The toilet gurgled and the water immediately started retreating down the drain. As the water disappeared the perky lady on the phone.
I calculated the odds that they would come clean the mess up for me.
"Thanks, I think I resolved the issue myself." I absently said into the phone.
I'm not going to go into detail about the clean up. Let's just say, clean up took awhile and I was very very grateful to have a bottle of bleach on hand. As I found each hidden nook of dirty water, I muttered "I quit" under by breath. Just as I finished mopping the bathroom floor, the front door opened and Sweet Husband came in.
"I'm home" he singsonged happily.
"Really?!" I wailed "You couldn't have come home 20 minutes ago, when the toilet exploded?! I can't believe this! I quit! I'm done! I can't handle this!"
Sweet husband cautiously grabbed the leash from it's place behind the door.
"I'm going to take the dog out" he called as he and the dog darted out the door.
We had just returned from our camping trip, and My dear friend Mrs X had stopped by to visit. Alex was running around like a crazy person, Spain was fighting an impeding nap, and I was just glad to be out of the car.
Mrs X and I were sitting on the couch talking, Alex had disappeared And Spain needed a diaper change. Suddenly we hear a frail "Mama" wobble from the hallway. The cry became frantic "MAMA! MAMA! IT WON"T STOP!!". The hallway was empty when I peeked around the corner, the commotion was coming from the bathroom. I rushed to the bathroom and my soul withered. Alex was standing next the bathtub hopping around the floor on small dry islands, as the toilet spilled over. Water rushed into the hallway as I took in the scene.
My brain suddenly acknowledged what was happening. I raced back to the living room and handed Spain to Mrs. X. I darted to the dining room table where my phone was innocently resting by a collection of our mail. Without stopping, I grabbed the phone and raced back to the bathroom. Water was taking over the entire bathroom and a nice expanse of the hallway. With one foot I leaped onto the Go Diego! Go! stool that I seriously doubted could support my weight, and the other foot I braced on the top of the toilet tank. I simultaneously leaned over the toilet to grab the plunger from the corner, scrolled through the contacts list on my phone to find the maintenance number, and prayed fervently for the toilet, for me to not fall into the toilet, and for the rapture to happen that very moment.
My hand wrapped around the handle of the plunger as I hit the send button on my cell phone. In my precarious perch, I nestled the phone against my shoulder, adjusted my footing, and plunged the plunger into the abyss. The toilet gurgled and the water immediately started retreating down the drain. As the water disappeared the perky lady on the phone.
I calculated the odds that they would come clean the mess up for me.
"Thanks, I think I resolved the issue myself." I absently said into the phone.
I'm not going to go into detail about the clean up. Let's just say, clean up took awhile and I was very very grateful to have a bottle of bleach on hand. As I found each hidden nook of dirty water, I muttered "I quit" under by breath. Just as I finished mopping the bathroom floor, the front door opened and Sweet Husband came in.
"I'm home" he singsonged happily.
"Really?!" I wailed "You couldn't have come home 20 minutes ago, when the toilet exploded?! I can't believe this! I quit! I'm done! I can't handle this!"
Sweet husband cautiously grabbed the leash from it's place behind the door.
"I'm going to take the dog out" he called as he and the dog darted out the door.
Friday, October 28, 2011
A photo-less post about photos
Alex is constantly trying to sneak off with my camera to take pictures. Sweet Husband came to my rescue by acquiring an older digital camera for Alex. Like magic, my camera lost appeal.
Mission Accomplished.
Unfortunately, I didn't foresee the problems of giving him free access with a camera. After three days with his new camera, Alex had already taken 786 photos and gone through two sets of batteries. Most of these photos involve me looking .... Less than human. Contrary to whatever Alex believes, I do not need documentation of how I look in the morning right after I wake up. I don't need documentation of how dangerous my laundry room has become or the current state of my closet.
I prefer to airbrush my memories instead of keeping photographic evidence.
Oh but it doesn't end there.
Alex discovered that his camera takes video as well.
Apparently he likes documentary style videos. He sets the camera on record and trains it on me as I go about my daily tasks. He's recorded everything from me talking on the phone with my brother to me drowning in laundry. Somehow, the laws of universe dictate that the worse I feel the more he records.
Last week I was nursing the "ICK". My head was floating two feet above my body, and I couldn't summon the energy to do anything other than lay on the couch with glossed over eyes.
"Alex please don't record me."
"Okay" he absently agrees.
"Are you still recording?"
"Yup."
I don't want to demand that he stop. He'll have evidence that I stifled his creativity!
Mission Accomplished.
Unfortunately, I didn't foresee the problems of giving him free access with a camera. After three days with his new camera, Alex had already taken 786 photos and gone through two sets of batteries. Most of these photos involve me looking .... Less than human. Contrary to whatever Alex believes, I do not need documentation of how I look in the morning right after I wake up. I don't need documentation of how dangerous my laundry room has become or the current state of my closet.
I prefer to airbrush my memories instead of keeping photographic evidence.
Oh but it doesn't end there.
Alex discovered that his camera takes video as well.
Apparently he likes documentary style videos. He sets the camera on record and trains it on me as I go about my daily tasks. He's recorded everything from me talking on the phone with my brother to me drowning in laundry. Somehow, the laws of universe dictate that the worse I feel the more he records.
Last week I was nursing the "ICK". My head was floating two feet above my body, and I couldn't summon the energy to do anything other than lay on the couch with glossed over eyes.
"Alex please don't record me."
"Okay" he absently agrees.
"Are you still recording?"
"Yup."
I don't want to demand that he stop. He'll have evidence that I stifled his creativity!
Thursday, September 29, 2011
A fish?
Alex slipped a note to sweet husband that read "can i ge[t] fish". With his hands clasped to his chest, he shared with sweet husband how he desperately wants a pet fish to call his own. "...I'll feed it two times a day, in the morning and at night. Please!" With this last plea, he raised his clasped hands to his chin, earnestly looking at Sweet husband with his big brown eyes.
Sweet husband melted.
I came into the room a few minutes later. Sweet husband handed me the note Alex had left and tried to appear nonchalant. My spidey-senses tingled. Sweet husband had that twinkle in his eye that told me he was already trying to decide between a fresh water fish tank or a salt water fish tank.
"Um... Fish are a big responsibility." I said.
Sweet husband nodded "Alex said he was ready for it. I told him I would talk to you."
"Oh. Okay. He tends to forget to feed Matrim and Ginge, fish aren't as vocal when their hungry."
Sweet husband nodded slowly, the fish-fever slowly fading from his eyes.
"Maybe in a few months. IF he can keep up with feeding the animals we do have."
Sweet husband gave a satisfied nod. "I think that works."
The next morning Alex came into the living room with his fish note. "Mama, I'm ready for a fish."
I sat down on the couch, and pulled Alex toward me. "Sweetie, I know you think you're ready for a fish. Fish are a big responsibility though."
Alex cut me off "I'm ready! I really am!"
"Alex, you're going to have to show us that you're ready for a big responsibility like fish. You need feed Matrim and Ginge, every day. And do school. When you do these, you're getting ready for bigger responsibilities.... like fish."
Alex glared at me. "I hate school. I hate this day. I am ready for fish!!"
"Alex," I said slowly "Have you fed Matrim and Ginge today?"
Alex's glare softened "Not yet..." he inched backward.
I raised an eyebrow. He spun around and raced down the hall where the food dishes lay. "I'm feeding them now mama. See? Do you see me? Mama, can you see me? I can feed them! Now am I ready for a fish?"
I decided to go back to bed. Sweet husband can take over Fish Talk 2011.
Sweet husband melted.
I came into the room a few minutes later. Sweet husband handed me the note Alex had left and tried to appear nonchalant. My spidey-senses tingled. Sweet husband had that twinkle in his eye that told me he was already trying to decide between a fresh water fish tank or a salt water fish tank.
"Um... Fish are a big responsibility." I said.
Sweet husband nodded "Alex said he was ready for it. I told him I would talk to you."
"Oh. Okay. He tends to forget to feed Matrim and Ginge, fish aren't as vocal when their hungry."
Sweet husband nodded slowly, the fish-fever slowly fading from his eyes.
"Maybe in a few months. IF he can keep up with feeding the animals we do have."
Sweet husband gave a satisfied nod. "I think that works."
The next morning Alex came into the living room with his fish note. "Mama, I'm ready for a fish."
I sat down on the couch, and pulled Alex toward me. "Sweetie, I know you think you're ready for a fish. Fish are a big responsibility though."
Alex cut me off "I'm ready! I really am!"
"Alex, you're going to have to show us that you're ready for a big responsibility like fish. You need feed Matrim and Ginge, every day. And do school. When you do these, you're getting ready for bigger responsibilities.... like fish."
Alex glared at me. "I hate school. I hate this day. I am ready for fish!!"
"Alex," I said slowly "Have you fed Matrim and Ginge today?"
Alex's glare softened "Not yet..." he inched backward.
I raised an eyebrow. He spun around and raced down the hall where the food dishes lay. "I'm feeding them now mama. See? Do you see me? Mama, can you see me? I can feed them! Now am I ready for a fish?"
I decided to go back to bed. Sweet husband can take over Fish Talk 2011.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Gone fishing
Spain isn't the only one in our household charging forward to grow up.
We took the boys camping this past weekend. The last time we went camping, Alex was a year and half old. Alex was completely captivated by camping. Almost as soon as the tent was up, he was "ready for some shut eye", just so he could stay in the tent.
By dawn the next morning he was ready to go fishing.
Alex was crushed when he found out we had to go home. "I just wanted to stay for a week" he sobbed before he fell asleep in his carseat.
We took the boys camping this past weekend. The last time we went camping, Alex was a year and half old. Alex was completely captivated by camping. Almost as soon as the tent was up, he was "ready for some shut eye", just so he could stay in the tent.
By dawn the next morning he was ready to go fishing.
Alex was crushed when he found out we had to go home. "I just wanted to stay for a week" he sobbed before he fell asleep in his carseat.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Something about the best laid plans.
We were inspired to start having a semi-formal sit down family dinner once a week. The plan is to have at least two courses and a dessert. No tv, no background music. The first week went smoothly. Dinner was delicious. Dessert was delicious. There was practically an ethereal glow surrounding the whole affair. The next week Sweet Husband was called away. Alex, Spain and I carried on, but the empty place at the table yelled at us the entire time, reminding us that we weren't complete. Then there was last night.
To make up for last week’s sad attempt at Family Dinner night, I planned on dinner AND a game. While I rushed around getting things ready for dinner, Alex sat in the couch and fell asleep. Napping is a highly unusual activity for Alex, but considering the busyness of our weekend I wasn’t too surprised to see him sleeping. What surprised me was burning my lips an hour later when I kissed his forehead.
Sweet husband came home, and moved Alex to our bed, where he slept for an hour before waking up. He stumbled into the living room and snuggled up next to Sweet Husband. The next hour was spent trying to cajole Alex into drinking or eating a little something.
Fast-forward another hour. Sweet husband had made a bed for Alex on the floor in our bedroom. Alex was sleeping, Sweet husband was sleeping. Spain was marathon nursing. By the time my head hit the pillow, I was already half asleep.
Then Alex woke me up at midnight… And again at 12:30. Our dog started whining because Alex was in his spot. Spain woke up and loudly announced that he was starving. Our cat started racing from one side of our bed to the other. Sweet husband, was somehow completely undisturbed by the midnight circus.
I got Spain back to sleep, then snuggled next to Alex until he went to sleep. The next step was evicting the cat and dog. The cat was unperturbed by being shut out of the room, but the dog was deeply wounded. The emotional wounds cut deep. If he had opposable thumbs he would have put on sackcloth and ashes. Instead he had to settle for verbalizing his despair. I went back to bed, trying to ignore the wailing from the dog. At this point Spain realized listening to other creatures lamenting made him hungry, while we nursed, Sweet husband got up let the dog in, who in turn woke Alex up, who wanted to discuss life’s mysteries with me.
Sweet husband did re-exile the dog, and I got to switch from the floor to my bed a few more times, before the night ended. Yes, there was more serenading from the dog.
Tonight I have dibs on the couch.
To make up for last week’s sad attempt at Family Dinner night, I planned on dinner AND a game. While I rushed around getting things ready for dinner, Alex sat in the couch and fell asleep. Napping is a highly unusual activity for Alex, but considering the busyness of our weekend I wasn’t too surprised to see him sleeping. What surprised me was burning my lips an hour later when I kissed his forehead.
Sweet husband came home, and moved Alex to our bed, where he slept for an hour before waking up. He stumbled into the living room and snuggled up next to Sweet Husband. The next hour was spent trying to cajole Alex into drinking or eating a little something.
Fast-forward another hour. Sweet husband had made a bed for Alex on the floor in our bedroom. Alex was sleeping, Sweet husband was sleeping. Spain was marathon nursing. By the time my head hit the pillow, I was already half asleep.
Then Alex woke me up at midnight… And again at 12:30. Our dog started whining because Alex was in his spot. Spain woke up and loudly announced that he was starving. Our cat started racing from one side of our bed to the other. Sweet husband, was somehow completely undisturbed by the midnight circus.
I got Spain back to sleep, then snuggled next to Alex until he went to sleep. The next step was evicting the cat and dog. The cat was unperturbed by being shut out of the room, but the dog was deeply wounded. The emotional wounds cut deep. If he had opposable thumbs he would have put on sackcloth and ashes. Instead he had to settle for verbalizing his despair. I went back to bed, trying to ignore the wailing from the dog. At this point Spain realized listening to other creatures lamenting made him hungry, while we nursed, Sweet husband got up let the dog in, who in turn woke Alex up, who wanted to discuss life’s mysteries with me.
Sweet husband did re-exile the dog, and I got to switch from the floor to my bed a few more times, before the night ended. Yes, there was more serenading from the dog.
Tonight I have dibs on the couch.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Metamorphosis in Seven Pictures
Six Years ago my world completely changed. My precious blessing Alex suprised us with his grand entrance. Six years ago I was scarred spitless at the realization that I had to grow up fast.
His first birthday was truly a time of celebration. A celebration of life and love. From a terrifying hospital stay to a roly-poly happy baby. We've gotten to watch his bloom into the young man he is today, and I know he's not finished yet.
Each year his personality has become more intricate and fascinating. We've seen him discover a favorite color. Taste delicious food. Find excitement in places that we've ignored.
Alex is ready to test out his independence. He knows where he is going and how he is going to get there. As far as he's concerned Sweet Husband and I are only along for the ride.
His first birthday was truly a time of celebration. A celebration of life and love. From a terrifying hospital stay to a roly-poly happy baby. We've gotten to watch his bloom into the young man he is today, and I know he's not finished yet.
Each year his personality has become more intricate and fascinating. We've seen him discover a favorite color. Taste delicious food. Find excitement in places that we've ignored.
Alex is ready to test out his independence. He knows where he is going and how he is going to get there. As far as he's concerned Sweet Husband and I are only along for the ride.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALEX!
< 
Thursday, August 4, 2011
Our area was blessed with a "freak snowstorm" in February. The light dusting of snow that graced our vehicles was enough to send some people into a frantic panicked state. Alex had been praying for snow for over a year, so my sweet husband bundled the boy up and took him outside to try and collect enough snow to make a snowball. I snuggled into the papasan chair with a still very new baby.
It wasn't until a few weeks later that we realized the true implications of our "freak snowstorm". For the first time ever, I had planted my garden according to the timeframe printed on the back of the seed envelopes. I had spent several hours on my hands and knees digging and planting and all that other crazy stuff, while heavily pregnant. I felt a little closer to June Cleaver. During our cold snap, my little garden, which had begun to sprout, held on for dear life. Three weeks after the snow dusting came, we knew it was over. One small radish plant was the sole survivor.
Unfortunately, our radish suffered from PTSD, and was prone to horrific flashbacks of that fateful day. No amount of therapy seemed help. The final straw was when rogue sweet potatoes from last year's garden, pushed their leafy green sprouts through the soil. The lone radish, overcome with the unfairness of these events gave up the ghost.
Our garden this year, now consists of a bell pepper plant, mint and a lot of sweet potato foliage. Of course this is the year Alex has delevoped a burning curiosity about where our food comes from and how it is grown. We took him strawberry picking at a small hydroponic farm in a neighboring town.
It was love at first bite.
For all of us. We ended up leaving the farm with strawberries, tomatoes and basil. Oh, and plans to go back again!
It wasn't until a few weeks later that we realized the true implications of our "freak snowstorm". For the first time ever, I had planted my garden according to the timeframe printed on the back of the seed envelopes. I had spent several hours on my hands and knees digging and planting and all that other crazy stuff, while heavily pregnant. I felt a little closer to June Cleaver. During our cold snap, my little garden, which had begun to sprout, held on for dear life. Three weeks after the snow dusting came, we knew it was over. One small radish plant was the sole survivor.
Unfortunately, our radish suffered from PTSD, and was prone to horrific flashbacks of that fateful day. No amount of therapy seemed help. The final straw was when rogue sweet potatoes from last year's garden, pushed their leafy green sprouts through the soil. The lone radish, overcome with the unfairness of these events gave up the ghost.
Our garden this year, now consists of a bell pepper plant, mint and a lot of sweet potato foliage. Of course this is the year Alex has delevoped a burning curiosity about where our food comes from and how it is grown. We took him strawberry picking at a small hydroponic farm in a neighboring town.
It was love at first bite.
For all of us. We ended up leaving the farm with strawberries, tomatoes and basil. Oh, and plans to go back again!
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Day three (written last week)
Today has revolved around teeth. The boys and I started the morning by packing up, diapers, books, bouncy seat and borrowed GPS and setting out on a epic journey to find a specific dental clinic. The military likes to keep people on their toes, instead of addresses, they prefer building numbers, and no, the numbers are not sequential. Since I was venturing into a completely foreign area, I halfway expected to get lost. I was armed with a GPS, and directions to the clinic from one of the staff members, so I hoped my paranoia would be just that.
I made it within two blocks of the clinic before getting lost.
I drove up and down the stretch of road, searching for some clue as to where I was. before I broke down and called the clinic for a little help.
“I’m pretty sure I’m completely lost.”
“Are you on the bowling alley side?”
“I passed a bowling alley when I came in.”
“And you see a McDonalds?”
“Well, it’s behind me. It’s off base on the other side of the gate.”
“Where are you now? Do you see any landmarks?”
“I’m at the corner Dentalclinic Ave and Thatplace RD. There’s a big water tower.”
“A Water tower? Where’s the water tower?”
“It’s to my right, and there are planes to my left.”
“You see airplanes?!”
“Yes… Err… or probably jets. They fly in the sky. They’re all over the place! ”
“…. *talking in background* Is there anything else? Signs? Flags?”
“Okay, there’s a sign for the Airman museum.”
“Does it say “Special forces”?”
“It says “airman”. Okay I’m at the fire station on Imsolost blvd and Whathaveigotteninto Dr.”
“...We have a fire station?”
At this point I had a minor meltdown and started describing everything around in vivid detail. Thankfully something finally clicked.
“Okay, go left on Dentalclinic Ave”
”Going left… Okay I’m coming up to the museum sign again.”
“Does it say special forces?”
“… It still says “airman”.”
“What the-”
At this point I was driving past the building with the museum sign in front of it, and beheld the most wonderful sight. “J.D Dental Clinic” written in a small nook over the front door.
“DENTAL CLINC!!!!!” I screeched into my helper’s ear. “I found it!”
“Oh good.” Came the reply “I still have no idea where you were.”
Later that night, I was feeding Spain on the couch, when Alex emerged from the bathroom where he had been brushing his teeth in preparation for bed.
“Mama?”
“Yes, bug?”
“I lost my tooth. It just came out.”
Alex’s first tooth (again).
I’d been preparing myself for this, since last month when our family dentist mentioned that Alex had a loose tooth. I just thought I had a little more time to prepare. But here we are. Alex is losing teeth, Spain is getting teeth. I have two sons teething at the same time.
“Mama, I’m just so proud of myself!” Alex confided to me, as I hugged him close.
“Sweetie, I’m so proud of you too!”
I made it within two blocks of the clinic before getting lost.
I drove up and down the stretch of road, searching for some clue as to where I was. before I broke down and called the clinic for a little help.
“I’m pretty sure I’m completely lost.”
“Are you on the bowling alley side?”
“I passed a bowling alley when I came in.”
“And you see a McDonalds?”
“Well, it’s behind me. It’s off base on the other side of the gate.”
“Where are you now? Do you see any landmarks?”
“I’m at the corner Dentalclinic Ave and Thatplace RD. There’s a big water tower.”
“A Water tower? Where’s the water tower?”
“It’s to my right, and there are planes to my left.”
“You see airplanes?!”
“Yes… Err… or probably jets. They fly in the sky. They’re all over the place! ”
“…. *talking in background* Is there anything else? Signs? Flags?”
“Okay, there’s a sign for the Airman museum.”
“Does it say “Special forces”?”
“It says “airman”. Okay I’m at the fire station on Imsolost blvd and Whathaveigotteninto Dr.”
“...We have a fire station?”
At this point I had a minor meltdown and started describing everything around in vivid detail. Thankfully something finally clicked.
“Okay, go left on Dentalclinic Ave”
”Going left… Okay I’m coming up to the museum sign again.”
“Does it say special forces?”
“… It still says “airman”.”
“What the-”
At this point I was driving past the building with the museum sign in front of it, and beheld the most wonderful sight. “J.D Dental Clinic” written in a small nook over the front door.
“DENTAL CLINC!!!!!” I screeched into my helper’s ear. “I found it!”
“Oh good.” Came the reply “I still have no idea where you were.”
Later that night, I was feeding Spain on the couch, when Alex emerged from the bathroom where he had been brushing his teeth in preparation for bed.
“Mama?”
“Yes, bug?”
“I lost my tooth. It just came out.”
Alex’s first tooth (again).
I’d been preparing myself for this, since last month when our family dentist mentioned that Alex had a loose tooth. I just thought I had a little more time to prepare. But here we are. Alex is losing teeth, Spain is getting teeth. I have two sons teething at the same time.
“Mama, I’m just so proud of myself!” Alex confided to me, as I hugged him close.
“Sweetie, I’m so proud of you too!”
July 26, 2011
I’ll be honest, I don’t want to write about what has been happening this week. Sweet husband is on a mandatory “camping trip” for the entire work week, leaving me to be sole dictator of our home *insert evil laugh* and children. Monday we piled the boys into the car at 4 am to drop sweet husband off at work. Thankfully they slept through it. Kind of.
Usually Alex will wake up, talk through the entire drive, both to and fro, and insist as soon as we pull into the driveway that he is “done sleeping”. This time there was minimal talking and he fell back to sleep almost as soon as I laid him on the bed.
Four hours later, I awoke to a *thump* “AAAAAHHHHHHHH”. With lightening speed I bolted out of bed and raced down the hallway toward the sound. Alex stood in the middle of our kitchen, balancing on one foot, covered in orange soda, wailing “MY TOE! IT HIT MY TOE!”.
I mopped the soda off of his face and extremities, pulled his saturated shirt off, and sent him to change while I finished cleaning up the mess. We had had a game day the day before, playing board games and drinking a rare treat of natural sodas. In our haste to get back to the game, we put the cans on the counter to deal with later and then forgot.
Today seemed so much smoother. Spain was cooing happily while I prepared breakfast for Alex and Myself. On cue, as soon as I set my plate on the table, Spain realized he wasalso hungry starving to death. I decided to multi-task. I brought Spain to the table with me thinking he could nurse, I could eat. Win-win. I grabbed a bottle of hot sauce and started to shake it. The cap flew off. Green sauce splattered everywhere, and Spain began to scream. Panic does not begin to describe the icy fingers that frantically stopped my heart. I hauled Spain into the bathroom as fast I could. A blob of green hot sauce sat on the bridge of his nose, right in between his eyes. Please, God” I prayed “not in his eyes. Please let it have missed his eyes.” I rinsed his face off, then began to wash his face with calendula soap, while searching my brain for some idea of what would help the burning. “Vinegar” a soft voice whispered to me.
EUREKA! I grabbed a cotton ball, and poured vinegar onto it, Spain squirmed while I wiped the wet cotton across his face. He closed his eyes and I could see the angry red splotches from where the hot sauce hit him. His eyes had been closed. All during this Spain kept trying to spit. I knew some had gotten into his mouth, and judging from the reaction he wasn’t a fan. Go figure. I had to get him to nurse, but he kept resisting. Finally I tucked him into my bed, I laid down next to him and offered him a breast. He latched on, and in moments stopped writhing. Slowly, he fell asleep. While he slept, I gently wiped another cotton ball saturated with vinegar across his face.
Ten minutes later he woke up. There were no angry red marks anywhere on his face. His face broke into a gigantic grin the moment he saw me. My heart finally started beating again.
Thank you Lord!
Usually Alex will wake up, talk through the entire drive, both to and fro, and insist as soon as we pull into the driveway that he is “done sleeping”. This time there was minimal talking and he fell back to sleep almost as soon as I laid him on the bed.
Four hours later, I awoke to a *thump* “AAAAAHHHHHHHH”. With lightening speed I bolted out of bed and raced down the hallway toward the sound. Alex stood in the middle of our kitchen, balancing on one foot, covered in orange soda, wailing “MY TOE! IT HIT MY TOE!”.
I mopped the soda off of his face and extremities, pulled his saturated shirt off, and sent him to change while I finished cleaning up the mess. We had had a game day the day before, playing board games and drinking a rare treat of natural sodas. In our haste to get back to the game, we put the cans on the counter to deal with later and then forgot.
Today seemed so much smoother. Spain was cooing happily while I prepared breakfast for Alex and Myself. On cue, as soon as I set my plate on the table, Spain realized he was
EUREKA! I grabbed a cotton ball, and poured vinegar onto it, Spain squirmed while I wiped the wet cotton across his face. He closed his eyes and I could see the angry red splotches from where the hot sauce hit him. His eyes had been closed. All during this Spain kept trying to spit. I knew some had gotten into his mouth, and judging from the reaction he wasn’t a fan. Go figure. I had to get him to nurse, but he kept resisting. Finally I tucked him into my bed, I laid down next to him and offered him a breast. He latched on, and in moments stopped writhing. Slowly, he fell asleep. While he slept, I gently wiped another cotton ball saturated with vinegar across his face.
Ten minutes later he woke up. There were no angry red marks anywhere on his face. His face broke into a gigantic grin the moment he saw me. My heart finally started beating again.
Thank you Lord!