Normally, for beach days, we would go to Lake Michigan. It’s big, beautiful, and impressive. But it’s a long drive for us, so I figured we could try out our little tiny local lake. I was prepared for it to suck, to be honest. What could possibly out-do Lake Michigan?Read More
I was looking for a specific photo on one of our hard drives and ended up falling down a baby Ana sized rabbit hole. Next thing I knew, I'm crying at the computer and my 5-going-on-13 year old is telling me "STOP! I CAN'T HEAR MY SHOW!"
With our "due date" being tomorrow, I'm down to my last bit of time with Ana as my only babe. I'm not super worried about loving new babe or about Ana being a sister, because she's going to be great at it, but it hits me hard that I have to share her with someone else. It's been the two of us, most days it's been the full 24hrs, since her entrance earthside, so I guess I'm just mourning the fact I'm going to lose that constant one on one time.
I'm excited, I'm ecstatic, I'm nervous, I'm scared, and I'm sad. It's crazy to try and balance these last couple days of pregnancy and I have to be the first to admit that I haven't done the best job at accepting them and coming to terms with them. I've kind of just been really cranky and quieter which is my very unhealthy way of internalizing my anxieties and trying not to put them onto anyone else. So don't do that.
But seriously. Hopefully when baby comes, she's still just as willing to help me put bandaids on when she notices I'm bleeding and helps me with literally whatever I need help with (most of the time) and still asks ME to color or play Lego's with her, even when sister is probably more fun. She's been my bff since the beginning and even though I'm excited for her to make a new one (I know my sister is mine,) I'm sad at the slight loss of camaraderie.
So, Mama's of two, give me all your stories about transitioning from one to two. I'll take them.
I'm not good at 'once upon a time' beginnings, but I can tell you the one of the exact moments that struck me, my darling daughter.
You're five, I'm super pregnant, it's hot, and neither of us are really dressed to be meandering around in public, but here we are. At one of the busiest spots in the city; the farmers market. Your Dad and I brought you last month when it was much earlier and much less crowded, but we hadn't been back in a while.
You asked in the car on the way home from dropping Dad off at the barber shop if we could go to the place where you "walk up and down and get the vegetables," and thinking of the wilting, smelly bouquet on the dining table that needed to be replaced, I agreed.
It is so busy. There are cars coming in constant streams down the one way drive, people meandering everywhere so much more put together than I feel and look, but we hold hands and cross the road and pull $40 out of the ATM.
We've got nowhere else to be and all the time in the day so I let you lead to the places that draw your attention.
You spot an irresistible, overflowing counter of fuzzy peaches and insist you'll eat them if we get them, so we get those and the oddly shaped little ones that you laugh at when I tell you they're called 'donut peaches' and then you're pulling me along to the next stand.
Every fruit, every vegetable, every craft we come across, you ask if we need. I tell you 'no' and you accept it, hopping along till we make it to the end. There at the last stand there's a beautiful plant stand and I tell you to pick one to replace the one on Daddy's nightstand your cat ate. Of course you pick the most perfect plant there and try your best to convince me we need a giant hibiscus bush, but I insist we leave it behind because I'm just way too pregnant to even think about planting it in our drought stricken yard.
"Wanna walk back up again?" I ask. Of course you say yes, looking around and taking everything in. The people, the noise, the sights, the smell. It's not long before you squeal and find the one treasured possession of the day.
You run your hands through a bucket of shimmering peacock feathers, making them shift from green to blue, to purple and back. You beg me to buy some not knowing I would have bought you the whole bucket to freeze this moment, but in moderation I tell you to pick one.
"Can I get five?" You ask, practically pleading and looking up at me with the most hopefully face I'd seen in a week.
"Sure." I ask the farmer behind the stand for two bunches of golden sunflowers and pay for your feathers.
You decide you're ready to go home and grab ahold of my hand again and start heading toward the car, in a cloud of bliss carrying and twirling your feathers as I juggle the load of sunflowers in my other hand.
And it's that moment. Looking down at the top of your head, your hair reflecting the yellow of the sunflowers, you completely absorbed in how amazing your feathers are. It wasn't exactly a moment of gratefulness, or of awe, or of anything really.
It was just a moment when time stopped and everything else seemed to fade away for a minute. In my years of being your Mom, there have been many moments like this, but every year, each one becomes something to reflect on. A memory of a period in life and so I try my best to pay attention and collect them like the box of pressed pennies we have from trips. Because this trip, of being your Mom, is by far the best trip of all.
I swear this is the #1 thought that crosses my mind every day. It's part or parenthood. What I never expected was how the parenting version of "WHAT THE HELL?!" is soooooo much grosser than most of the other versions. So here's one that honest to God, makes me gag every time I recall it.
Ana had gone swimming earlier in the afternoon with her cousin, so when she started complaining, and by complaining I mean acting as if someone had cut her ear off, we figured it was just water. So we gave her some Tylenol and sent her to bed.
In the morning her ear still seemed to hurt, so Chris set up a doctors appointment for her.
The doctor came in and used her little lighty-ear-thing to check in her ear and very nonchalantly said "There's quite a bit of wax in both ears, so I'm going to have the nurse flush it out and I'll look again and see if there is an infection behind there. See you in a minute."
Did she prepare me for what was about to besiege me? NOT EVEN CLOSE.
The nurse came in with a rad squirt gun thing and tucked a towel into Ana's shirt and put a cup under her ear to catch all the water. Now, as I've probably written before, Ana is super sensory sensitive. So when one of her senses isn't functioning properly it creates chaos for us. When she got the first squirt, she almost drenched the nurse and I both in ear water until I told her it would drain and she would get to see nasty things from her ears.
Her love of nasty things is strong.
So the nurse starts flushing away. Quite a bit of wax came out. Cool, I'll celebrate ear wax because Ana did a great job holding still and says her ear already feels a lot better. On to the next ear.
"Okay! Just do it! Go fast!" Ana loudly exclaims to the nurse and then squinches every part of her body. The nurse obliges and says "OKAY!" and squirts faster than she did the first time and
MOTHER OF GOD. WHAT THE HELL IS THAT?!
THIS IS THE MONSTROSITY THAT CAME OUT. I had to hold myself together as Ana wowed and marveled at this horrific sight. Seriously. I'm starting to gag a little just remembering it. I think I turned away to hide the initial gag because I didn't want to
Make Ana feel bad. Or, if she was in a bit of a darker mood...
Give her the satisfaction and ammunition of making me make retching noises.
There was indeed an infection behind there. The water from swimming just brought the problem to light.
Why do I have these photos you ask? Because Ana, for her excellent behavior, was humored when she said,
"Take pictures and send them to Dada and see if he goes *makes puking noises* hahahahaha!"
Do you see why I turned away when I gagged? She's evil sometimes.
So I'm sharing the love. What "WHAT THE HELL?!" moments have you hd? Please, someone. Anyone. So I don't have to envision mine anymore.