Monday, December 31, 2007

Let the Healing Begin

Two weeks ago we took Sully for his two-month check-up. He is healthy and is growing very steadily. He now weighs 10 pounds, 13 ounces and is 23 inches long. Of course, with these early doctor visits come shots, but we take Sully to the health department for his vaccinations. He fared those very well, too, with a bit of crying, then an extended nap. Fortunately, he did not get a fever afterward, which can happen.

We brought Sullivan home from his doctor’s visit and Jeff and I watched the children, baby Sullivan and Jude, our preschooler who learns a bit too much every day. Our hearts were full. We turned to one another. “Let’s have another child,” we said, “Another addition to this family.” Then we laughed, deep, full-body laughter that filled the house. For, you see, we had already decided that two children was the perfect number for us. No more pregnancies for me, no more babies for us. As it is, unless things pick up in the finance department, we may have to just pick a favorite child and let him go to college. Let’s see how school goes. Maybe we won’t have to worry about college.

So, as brave men before him have done, Jeff opted to get a vasectomy. In fact, he was quite mature about the whole thing. Mature, that is, until we had a consultation at the doctor’s office and were given a video to watch that outlined the whole procedure. Then we both snickered and mocked the video, laughing until the doctor rejoined us in the room. We had the maturity level of junior high school boys in a sex ed class.

A few days later (last Friday), I drove Jeff to his appointment. An hour later, the deed was done. Jeff described the experience as “painless” (yes, really) and spent the weekend lying about with a strategically placed bag of frozen peas, per the doctor’s orders. By Monday, he was doing very well, though he had a ten-pound weight restriction, which meant he couldn’t pick up Jude. (Defying the weight restriction didn’t even cross his mind after the doctor’s vivid descriptions of what could happen if he did.) Here it is, one week later and it is as though nothing ever happened. I thought it was a bit in bad taste for him to unzip his pants at his mother’s Christmas party and offer to show everyone the (tiny) scar, but it did make a very lovely centerpiece.

Just so he didn’t feel left out, Jude managed to cut the tip of his forefinger on a chair. He didn’t cry, but came to me and said “Mom, I cut myself,” as he left a trail of blood. I cleaned and bandaged it and it wasn’t until the band-aid came off that Jude decided that it hurt. Fortunately, that, too, passed and he has recovered.

And as for me? I am sleep-deprived and experiencing a bit of holiday hangover. In other words, I am just fine. All is well.

Song of the day: Lou Reed's "Perfect Day." No particular reason: Just a great song, one of my favorites.

Movie of the day: Spiderman 3. I am now in my third viewing since Christmas and, though I will never admit it to Jude, I actually enjoy it.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Weekend Update

There is a scene in the movie, Ordinary People, between Donald Sutherland’s character and Mary Tyler Moore’s character where he says to her something along the lines of “You can’t see things except for the way they affect you.” Her response is “no, I can’t and neither can anyone else.” It is one of my favorite exchanges in the movie and such a true sentiment. If that weren’t true, I likely wouldn’t even have a blog. I write about what interests me, not really considering whether anyone else would be interested in reading it. I suppose that there are worse reasons for writing.

Speaking of writing, I recently discovered the very first draft (thirty pages only) of the novel that I continue to write and discovered that it is actually older than my oldest child. My novel turned four in October. Four years. In that time, I managed to have two children and get a new job, but haven’t been able to finish this novel. Still, I haven’t given up. The trouble I have now is that ideas are coming faster than I can write them. That rarely happens and I certainly am not complaining. Just need to set aside more time to write.

Friday evening I went to bed as usual around 8:30, as Jeff and I are sleep-sharing (like time-sharing, only we don’t travel and one of us is always with the infant). I awoke from a sound sleep just before 1:00 a.m. (Jeff generally comes to wake me up at 1:30 or 2:00) and went to check on them. Jeff was holding Sully and he looked up at me and said “He’s warm.” We took his temperature and it was 102 degrees. Jeff packed Sully’s diaper bag and took him to the hospital while I waited at the house with Jude. Just after Jeff left, Jude awoke and I went into his room to comfort him. It was agony waiting for Jeff to call, but it just wasn’t practical for us both to go to the hospital. Finally, he called. There was nothing to worry about. Sully still had a good appetite and wasn’t dehydrated or listless. They arrived home shortly afterward and I held onto him as he slept. I just let him sleep there the rest of the night, as I did not want to set him down. There isn’t any other feeling in the world like holding a sleeping baby, feeling the complete trust that the baby has, just watching him sleep. No one ever told me that I would have that feeling. No one ever told me that I would wake up in the middle of the night, concerned because the baby is not crying, would stand over him just to make sure that he is still breathing. Sully continued to have a fever until Sunday afternoon and seems just fine now.

Sunday morning Jeff had to work so as he got ready, I heard a fire truck siren. I told Jude so we could go to the window and watch the truck drive by, but the truck did not drive pass. We looked through the other living room window and right across the street from us were two fire trucks and three police cars. A car apparently slid off the road and hit a tree. As I fed Sullivan, Jude and I observed the firefighters and policemen at work, removing the windshield from the car. As we watched they also removed the top of the car. I felt a bit like a ghoul, watching someone else’s auto accident, especially when it became evident that it was a fatality. Fortunately, Jude is too young to fully understand what was happening and there wasn’t anything that we saw that would lead him to think that the person in the car had died. He was fascinated with the firemen and their hoses, then the tow truck that came to move the car, so he paid no mind to the ambulance. Of course for our neighborhood, this was just something that happened on a Sunday morning, something to be immediately forgotten as we continued on with our days, but I couldn’t help but think that it was a life-altering event for someone sitting at home waiting for him or her to return.
Song of the day: “Asleep” from The Smiths because it is a perfect song for a cold, miserable winter day and because it is the prettiest song I know about death. Runner up song of the day: “Tonight is the Night I Fell Asleep at the Wheel” from The Barenaked Ladies.

Thursday, December 6, 2007

Is That Raccoon Eating E.T.'s Head?

One of the great joys of being a parent as any parent can attest is watching your child discover something for the first time. Of course, when your child is a preschooler, such discovery is inevitably accompanied by several questions, many of which are the “why” variety. At first, watching your child’s brain working, formulating questions feels you with great pride, thinking, “My child is so smart, so inquisitive.” After several hours of “why” questions, however, I dare even the most patient, caring parent to not feel a little insane.

I received an email from my friend, Josh, in response to a blog in which I wrote about Jude discovering Spiderman and Josh mentioned that made him think about his own childhood. Although I smiled and nodded at this, I realized that, with two boys, there is not a strong likelihood that I would have that same feeling as my sons discovered something I enjoyed in my childhood. After all, my childhood obsession (yep, obsession) was with Strawberry Shortcake. Not the Strawberry of today, with her blue jeans and puppy, but the Strawberry of my childhood, the one with the red-and-white dress and white-and -green striped tights. Many nights I spent reading books with a flashlight under my Strawberry Shortcake sleeping bag and days were spent playing with Strawberry Shortcake and her kitty, Custard, as well as her whole collection of lightly-scented friends (and I think that we should, as adults, all hope to have lightly-scented friends).

Jude did recently discover something that I loved as a child: the movie “E.T.” I was eight years old and it was the first movie I saw at the theater twice: once with my mom and once with my dad. I am enjoying watching Jude fall in love with E.T., so much so that I try to be very patient with the questions: “What is E.T. doing?” “He’s getting dressed to go trick-or-treat?” “Why is he going trick-or-treating?” “Because it is Halloween.” “Why is it Halloween?” (There really isn’t a good answer to that last question, but it is similar to the exchange we had this morning: “Put your hood up. It’s cold outside.” “Why is it cold outside?” “Because it is winter.” “Why is it winter?” “Because it is just that time of year.” “Oh, it’s that time of year.”) Of course in the midst of the movie-related questions, Jeff glanced at the TV screen and asked, “Is that raccoon eating E.T.’s head?” (It was not.)

It was nine degrees when we headed out this morning. Nine. I have been back to work for a little over a week and life is pretty hectic, as we are constantly running. But Jude is a good assistant and Sully is an easygoing kid, as long as he is well fed and gets his sleep (though not nearly enough of that sleep comes at night). Today, Sullivan is eight weeks old.

Songs of the day: “Chestnut Mare” by the Byrds, as I am nostalgic today and this song makes me think of an old friend and “A Girl Like You” by Pete Yorn because it makes me happy.