Some things just make me smile...
And my kindergartner trying so hard to learn embroidery makes me smile big!
Showing posts with label mama. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mama. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Friday, February 20, 2009
Take Care Mama!
Taking care of a family is tiring. Every parent knows this. Taking care of a family when one or more of you has a chronic illness is exhausting. Only some of us know what this is like."Hospital weeks" feel like a death march on body and soul. I hope there are only a very small handful of you who, like me, knows what this is like.
It's been nearly two and a half years since Little Man had his first Bleed. It's been nearly a two and a half years of worry, fear and the loss of dreams. I'm a mama, we tend to lose our self with the passing of the placenta. Mama's are the whole of someone else's needs and we tend to forget or is that ignore own own needs often. Add a baby with medical needs and you are, at times, lost. We've all forgotten to brush our teeth until 11:00am, we don't shower for 3 days at a time and breakfast often consists of finishing up the cold oatmeal the toddler left behind in his bowl. Mmmm, breakfast of champions.
After Little Man had that first bleed, we spent months on end going to and from the hospital on a very regular basis. One afternoon Sue stopped by. I answered the door a lumpy, smelly, cold oatmeal eating mess. Sue is one of my best friends and she did what any true friend would. She sat me down and gave me a lecture. No, make that the best advise anyone ever had ever given me...
Take care Mama! It went something like this...
"What the hell? You look like Amy Winehouse on a bad day and you smell like swiss cheese." Can't you just feel the love? "Do you think you're doing anyone any good with this self deprivation? Well you're not. Go take a shower and for God's sake, brush your teeth before they start dropping out of your head." I just stared at her. So she said, "I've got the kids handled. Go!" She may or may not have muttered something about my being a dumb-ass, and my trepidation was a personal slight on her parenting and nursing skills.
I worried all the way up the stairs. And then I started the shower water...The hot streaming water and the soap washed away the filth made up of anxieties. I then put on a new layer, of fresh clothes that smelt of Tide and not of despair.
When I finally made my way downstairs, I did not find Little Man in the puddle of blood my imagination had me mopping clean. Instead, I found my sweet boy playing with my friends keys . All the while, Fairy Princess glued hearts and glitter onto a paper hat. It was a blissful sight to behold.
After a cup of tea and more "advise" from a mama in the know (years before she thought she might lose one of her own little Monkey Men to illness). Maybe it was the high from the deodorant fumes or the giddiness from the apple blossom scented shampoo, but I vowed take better care of myself. In all honestly, there are days that I don't get to shower until bedtime and I did eat Girl Scout cookies for breakfast, just this morning. But I do shower and I leave the last of the cold oatmeal alone. I am still sleep deprived and overly caffeinated, but the stench of the past is long gone.
It's been nearly two and a half years since Little Man had his first Bleed. It's been nearly a two and a half years of worry, fear and the loss of dreams. I'm a mama, we tend to lose our self with the passing of the placenta. Mama's are the whole of someone else's needs and we tend to forget or is that ignore own own needs often. Add a baby with medical needs and you are, at times, lost. We've all forgotten to brush our teeth until 11:00am, we don't shower for 3 days at a time and breakfast often consists of finishing up the cold oatmeal the toddler left behind in his bowl. Mmmm, breakfast of champions.
After Little Man had that first bleed, we spent months on end going to and from the hospital on a very regular basis. One afternoon Sue stopped by. I answered the door a lumpy, smelly, cold oatmeal eating mess. Sue is one of my best friends and she did what any true friend would. She sat me down and gave me a lecture. No, make that the best advise anyone ever had ever given me...
Take care Mama! It went something like this...
"What the hell? You look like Amy Winehouse on a bad day and you smell like swiss cheese." Can't you just feel the love? "Do you think you're doing anyone any good with this self deprivation? Well you're not. Go take a shower and for God's sake, brush your teeth before they start dropping out of your head." I just stared at her. So she said, "I've got the kids handled. Go!" She may or may not have muttered something about my being a dumb-ass, and my trepidation was a personal slight on her parenting and nursing skills.
I worried all the way up the stairs. And then I started the shower water...The hot streaming water and the soap washed away the filth made up of anxieties. I then put on a new layer, of fresh clothes that smelt of Tide and not of despair.
When I finally made my way downstairs, I did not find Little Man in the puddle of blood my imagination had me mopping clean. Instead, I found my sweet boy playing with my friends keys . All the while, Fairy Princess glued hearts and glitter onto a paper hat. It was a blissful sight to behold.
After a cup of tea and more "advise" from a mama in the know (years before she thought she might lose one of her own little Monkey Men to illness). Maybe it was the high from the deodorant fumes or the giddiness from the apple blossom scented shampoo, but I vowed take better care of myself. In all honestly, there are days that I don't get to shower until bedtime and I did eat Girl Scout cookies for breakfast, just this morning. But I do shower and I leave the last of the cold oatmeal alone. I am still sleep deprived and overly caffeinated, but the stench of the past is long gone.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Little Man Update
Well, well, well. It seems that his Von Willebrand #'s are up these days. His hand is doing so well, with no after-bleeds even though he keeps landing on that hand while wrestling.
I guess I can let out that breath I've been holding in.
I guess I can let out that breath I've been holding in.
Sunday, February 17, 2008
Living With the Fairies
Yesterday she made a wish. She made a wish in the special wishing fountain with the magically lit, sky painted ceiling. "Make me a true fairy and give me a pet unicorn to ride", she whispered in that quiet way 5 year olds have, so I could easily hear.
When I tucked her into bed, she said to me, "Now mama, don't worry that I won't be here in the morning. I'll be with the fairies and I'll come back to get you and daddy and Ian to live with me. I promise". I promise is a very special phrase in this household, we don't make promises lightly. She really meant that she would be living with the fairies and that she would have them to take us all in, as a family.
How could I have the heart not to go along? How could I take her beautiful dream away just then? I couldn't. I accepted her promise and made my own promise. I promised that I would have the fairies bring Flower and Lulu along when they came to bring us to live with them too. I tucked her in tight, gave her extra big hugs and kisses and told her I would see her soon. I promised that I wouldn't worry.
Before I went to bed, I had to check in on her. She was so convinceing, I wasn't sure she would still be in her bed. But she was. Cozy with Lulu and her Lovey, looking small and sweet. How disappointed she would be to wake up in her pink room, without wings, and not in a bed of thyme with a flower pillow. She knew the fairies would come and get her. So I left her a fairy pebble beside her bed. When she did wake this morning, she was sad that they had come to visit and left her without even waking her. But the special pebble was proof that they would come and get her soon. "Maybe they need to build a house for us. maybe they need to make space, it's awfully cold and wet outside for them to be gathering for a new home." She tells me that she will talk to them and explain that her daddy is a carpenter and he can build a house for us to live in. And then the fairies will come for her.
One day my baby won't be in her bed, all tucked in with Lulu and her Lovey. Selfishly, I wish I could keep her for myself. But that isn't the job of a mama, now is it? My job is to keep her believing in wonderment for as long as I can. My job is to help her make her own bed of thyme with a flower pillow.
When I tucked her into bed, she said to me, "Now mama, don't worry that I won't be here in the morning. I'll be with the fairies and I'll come back to get you and daddy and Ian to live with me. I promise". I promise is a very special phrase in this household, we don't make promises lightly. She really meant that she would be living with the fairies and that she would have them to take us all in, as a family.
How could I have the heart not to go along? How could I take her beautiful dream away just then? I couldn't. I accepted her promise and made my own promise. I promised that I would have the fairies bring Flower and Lulu along when they came to bring us to live with them too. I tucked her in tight, gave her extra big hugs and kisses and told her I would see her soon. I promised that I wouldn't worry.
Before I went to bed, I had to check in on her. She was so convinceing, I wasn't sure she would still be in her bed. But she was. Cozy with Lulu and her Lovey, looking small and sweet. How disappointed she would be to wake up in her pink room, without wings, and not in a bed of thyme with a flower pillow. She knew the fairies would come and get her. So I left her a fairy pebble beside her bed. When she did wake this morning, she was sad that they had come to visit and left her without even waking her. But the special pebble was proof that they would come and get her soon. "Maybe they need to build a house for us. maybe they need to make space, it's awfully cold and wet outside for them to be gathering for a new home." She tells me that she will talk to them and explain that her daddy is a carpenter and he can build a house for us to live in. And then the fairies will come for her.
One day my baby won't be in her bed, all tucked in with Lulu and her Lovey. Selfishly, I wish I could keep her for myself. But that isn't the job of a mama, now is it? My job is to keep her believing in wonderment for as long as I can. My job is to help her make her own bed of thyme with a flower pillow.
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