Monday, March 19, 2007

The Serious Sick Type

Apparently Bo is a very serious boy when he's sick.

I woke up this morning, this very morning and thought, "Wow, it's been over a month since my kids have been sick, that's gotta be a record." Unbeknownst to me in that moment, something was attacking little Bo's immune system. I'm not sure what it is yet, it seems flu-like, but what do I know? I put bandaids on acute respiratory distress. He is engaging in Sick Nobody-like behavior, so I know it's real. Whining, moaning, thrashing a little for effect. I do feel for the little guy.

I had a quick dr's appointment this morning, just to get a shot in my right flank. I'm RH negative and so I always have to get that rhogam shot at 28 weeks. I'm 30 weeks, but both Bo and Avee have ended up being A- also, so this time around, I forgot and my doctor did too. Good thing he makes the big bucks and is required to remember.

I called my friend last minute and asked if I could dump my kids on her. She said yes. Bo had started whining a few minutes before we loaded into the car so I wasn't sure if he was up for playing. I gave him the choice and he chose to come with me rather than stay at a very fun house full of cool toys. That was my first clue. Second clue was when I did a curb check with the car and he started wailing like I had used his body to jump the curb and not the poor car's.

In a span of about 20 minutes I felt his temperature jump. And then that strange mom-feeling sets in where you just feel so bad that your baby is sick, but it's not your fault (or so you tell yourself) and really not much you can do. To assuage my guilt for his suffering, I offered to stop and get him a Sprite.

In his halted, wimpery voice: But mom, you can't have sprite when you are sick!
"Well, sometimes people drink it when they are sick to feel better."
To which he very seriously replied, "But not when I'M sick, it's FOH of sugoh!"

Minus the sweet little 3 year old "accent", that is doctrine straight from Grandma's mouth. And apparently mine.

Later, after we got Avee from her friend's house we were driving down the road and I said, "I love you Avee!" and she immediately yelled, "No I NOT!" She just learned this game and given that it's very amusing for me as well, I joined in, "Yes I do!"
"No y'NOT!"
"Yes I do!"
"No y'not do!"
Since she was shaking things up, I thought I would too.
"No I don't!"
"Yesth y'do!"

At which point Bo interrupted urgently with all the force of a wimper he could muster (he really is actually in bad shape) and scolded me, "Mom, you shouldn't say you don't love her, even if you are just joking, those aren't the kind of jokes we have in our family."

He is exactly right. But what's up with an impending illness making him all serious and preachy? Lighten UP dude!

Monday, March 12, 2007

Love Is...

Sitting behind 27 preschoolers during story time at the public library. Seeing your child's impossible-to-keep-up pants resting low in their "normal" position--just enough to share his half moon with all.
And thinking he's the cutest kid within miles.

Saturday, March 3, 2007

"I Loved Her First"

Today I was driving in my car
And a song came on the radio
A man was singing about his little girl
That he was now giving away as a bride

“I loved her first” he sang,
About the day that she was born
And tears streamed down my face
As I thought of my own daughter at home

My morning was spent changing and dressing her
And doing her hair fourteen times
Followed by a battle to get buckled in her car seat
Just to hear her wail “no way mom!” two dozen times

Later she wanted me to hold her
But my body ached from the child I carry inside
Nothing I did seem to make her happy
And it was hard not to be annoyed by her whines

But alone in my car an hour later
My tears flowed uncontrollably
So that I had to pull over my car
And let them fall as I sat there alone.

Two short years ago she was the child I carried inside
Who made me too uncomfortable to hold my son
Every night she jabbed my ribs to say hello
Starting early to make her presence known

Then a tiny bundle of pink wrinkly skin
With the most sparse head of red hair
We all fell in love with her immediately
And I didn’t remember my heart before she was in it.

Eye contact, smiling, rolling, giggling, crawling, climbing.
Walking, climbing, singing, talking, signing, climbing.
Giggles, running, greeting, climbing, complaining.
Laughing, hugging, testing, climbing, and she can do it herself.

Every little thing she does, I get to be a witness to.
Kicking a ball, tasting lemons, loving her brother.
Suddenly two years are gone and I sit on the side of the road,
Crying about my two year old becoming an adult bride.

Will I forget to cherish the moments that lead there?
Will I accidentally get caught up in the trivial things,
And forget to notice the woman she’s becoming?
Will remembering I loved her first feel like I missed too much?