Dexter

hold my hand, honey. everything’s going to be just fine.

Posted on by mommyinthemidwest

“Hold my hand, honey,” I say to Dexter as we sit in the lobby of the Children’s Hospital outpatient building.  He’s getting impatient and I forgot to bring toys to distract him.

Looking around the lobby and scanning out the windows for Dexer’s dada, I mumble under my breath, “where is he?”  The appointment is at 2:30 and it’s only 2:10 so I relax (a little) and sit back in my seat.

I text R and tell him parking is hard to find. Dexter is watching me with a furrowed brow and I wonder if he senses my stress.  “Hi, boo boo!”  I throw my phone in my purse, nuzzle up next to his cheek, and smell his sweetness before pulling back to see his gummy smile.  My finger grazes his soft face and just for a second, I feel sorry for myself.

sitting in the lobby, waiting for dada

This is where the really sick kids go.  This is where the kids with cancer and life-threatening injuries go.  Kids from all over the entire state.  That’s a lot of really sick kids.  Now I’m here, with my precious little baby, because he has his own medical issue.  It’s like we’re one of those families with sick kids. 

While we are sitting there, Dexter grasps each of my fingers and pulls them up to his mouth to chew on them.  He plays with my wedding rings without a care in the world.  He gets antsy and I pull him out of the stroller and onto my lap.  And while we’re sitting there, I watch.  I wait.  And then I see those really sick kids go by. 

One with no hair. 
One with a tracheotomy. 
One using a wheelchair because she has no legs. 
One who was burned so badly that I couldn’t look.

I looked down at my lap because I didn’t want to stare.  And because staring made me feel sick to my stomach.  Sick that these kids’ moms and dads don’t have it easy.  Stupid for feeling sorry for myself.  These parents don’t get to experience how annoying it is when their toddler won’t stay in time out.  How exhausting it is that their infant still wakes up 3 or 4 times a night a few times a week.

12 minutes have passed and it’s 2:22pm.  “Come on, Dex,” I say, as I shift his weight to my hip and throw my purse and his blanket in the stroller seat.  “We’ve got to get upstairs and daddy will just have to come find us.” 

Dex gets weighed and measured and R gets there just before the nurse comes in to ask routine questions.  We tell her he’s sitting up independently and starting to crawl.  No, he’s not really making consonant sounds yet, just vowels mostly.  Yes, he’s breastfeeding well and enjoying solids 2-3 times a day.  He’s just perfect in almost every way.

Then the pediatric surgeon comes in and takes a look at him.  “Yes, he’s got a hydrocele on the right side.  But, you know what, mom and dad?  It’s really minor and I just don’t do surgery on babies this young unless it’s urgent.  Do you live close?  How about you just come back in 6 months and we’ll re-evaluate?”

He was really thorough, explaining to us how to tell if the hydrocele was getting better or worse, how to see it best, and what the reasons for removing it are.  I had already done my research and could have told him everything he told us, pretty much.  Ha.  He did not say that Dexter wouldn’t have to have surgery eventually, but my 6 month old baby is not going under general anesthesia.  It’s something to worry about on another day.  Not today.

feeling sorry for our healthy baby

As we walked out with smiles on our faces and the weight of the world off of our shoulders, I was reminded once more just how lucky we are.  I kissed Dexter’s face and said “you got lucky this time, little one.” 

While waiting to pay for parking in the garage, I saw more families who spend a lot more time at the Children’s Hospital than we ever will (I hope I hope I hope).  My heart is still so heavy for those families.  My bones ache for them to experience what we have. 

Normal.  Boring.  Annoying at times.  Crazy-making at others.

Perfect in just about every way, despite everything else.

happy and healthy

~C~

**P.S.  This experience brought to mind the story of a 2 year old boy named Tripp who is dying from an illness called “EB,” or Epidermolysis Bullosa.  I challenge you to read Because of you, EB to learn more about how illness can affect a child.  A family.  This post made me cry.  Makes me hug my kids tighter, longer.  Makes me realize how lucky I am and how stupid I can be for complaining about the insignificant.  Please, please read. 

thanksgiving wrap-up: a photoblog

Posted on by mommyinthemidwest

Hey there.

My little boys on Thanksgiving Day.  Just looking at their sweet, innocent faces fills my heart with pride and love.  Two years ago, on Thanksgiving, I never would have guessed we’d be where we are now.  But I sure as heck wouldn’t have it any other way. 
We spent the weekend at Nana and Pop Pop’s house and were joined by Aunt M, Uncle B, and Cousin Spence, or as Theo says, “Pence!”  I think Pence is pretty excited that Theo can finally play trains with him.  

 

Dexter managed to find a way to play trains too.  Friday night our city had their annual celebration that goes along with lighting the “tree” (a.k.a. monument).  Since I’ve lived here for 8 years and had never seen it, I figured I should mark it off my to-do list.  The city, it was beautiful.  We had mild weather and the crowd was energizing.  The lighting of the “tree,” eh.  It was kind of like, well, turning on a light.  You know?  But my boo recently started a new job, right in front of this “tree” and his company opened their doors to employees and their families for the event.  So, I got to see the new digs.  It was a 2-for-1 kinda deal. 

 The most fun for Pence and Theo was not only the cookie and drink buffet inside boo’s work, but the wide open space to run and play.  Tell me these are two little boys who aren’t having fun.  I dare ya.

Well…we had fun trying to get some decent pictures.  Finally, the “tree” was lit and we were able to get to the parking garage so that we could sit.  And sit.  And sit.  For an hour.  That was the least fun part of the night, but we should have parked further away from the center of activity instead of using R’s parking pass.  Lesson learned.  I don’t know that I have to go do it again, but it was a fun night.  Something different to do on Black Friday, anyway!  I wouldn’t leave you wondering what that magical “tree” looks like, all lit up. 
yep, that’s it.

The rest of the weekend was filled with a reindeer, giggles with Pop Pop, stories with Nana, rolling and trying to crawl all over the place, and attempts at a decent Christmas card photo. 
Well.  You can see how successful that endeavor was.
All in all…best Thanksgiving ever.  Sure do have a lot to be thankful for this year.
thanks for reading,
~C~

because that means.

Posted on by mommyinthemidwest

I feel like I spend too much time on this blog expressing negativity about how hard it is, being a parent.  I don’t know if it’s because I’m a negative person (I hope not) or because this is my place to vent.  There are blogs out there, like Dear Baby and Enjoying the Small Things, which I love, that are so beautifully and positively written – they inspire me daily to embrace the beauty in the ordinary.  They also portray parenting as something far more glamorous than what it really is.  To me.  To me. 

That being said, it’s no secret that I love my babies and my husband more than life.  The three of them are the only blip on my radar (too?) much of the time.  But you want truth:  Here it is.  Parenting ain’t no joke, people.  It takes a lot of energy.  It takes it’s toll.  I have a toddler, fast approaching 21 months, and an infant who is almost 7 months.  It’s not easy, but it was never meant to be.  Being a damn good parent, or trying to be, is tough.  There are things that drive me nuts every.single.day. BUT.  These days are so precious and that’s not lost on me.  I know these ordinary days, these crazy-making moments, are what I’m going to miss one day… like…

Theo running up to me and pushing and pulling on my legs while I’m fixing dinner, begging me to pick him up.
Because that mean he wants to be close to me.

The ache in my back from rocking Dexter to sleep at night before he settles into a deep slumber in his crib.
Because that means he still needs me to do that, just as much as I need him to let me.

The sound of Theo running/stomping down the hall while dragging his very loudest pull-toy past Dexter’s room while he is was napping.
Because that means he’s happy, full of energy, enjoying and entertaining himself.

Spending more time cleaning up the mess under the table after dinner than the time it took to eat. 
Because that means I got to sit at the table with my boys, all three of them, and share a meal together.

Wiping runny noses and making last minute doctor’s appointments.
Because when they’re sick, that’s when they need their mommy the most.

Spending countless hours pumping milk, scrubbing bottles, freezing milk, thawing milk, and packing it all up for the babysitter.
Because that means I’m giving my baby the best start possible. 

I could go on, you know?  But the point is this.  I (think I sort of) know how lucky I am.  With that being said, we’ve never had to deal with anything terrible, like life-threatening illness or injury.  Like losing our house in a fire or flood.  Things could be so much worse, no matter what, and I try to keep it in perspective.  I know these challenging, exhausting days won’t last forever.  I know one day my boys will be grown and out of the house.  I’ll think about how it all went by in a blink.  And I hope they’ll come back for lots of visits.  I hope they don’t move too far away from home.  I hope they’ll remember their childhood fondly and not have a clue how hard we worked to make it just exactly what it was.

Because that will mean we have succeeded. 

~C~