Smiling Mom

(fyi, Hubby said I could post about this ‘sen­si­tive’ topic. Thank good­ness because it makes for fan­tas­tic fodder!)

So ya.

Today was Hubby’s “Big Day”.

It was a day 6 months in the making.

After jum­ping through hoops, atten­ding clas­ses, and wai­ting to be sche­du­led, today was his vasectomy.

Let me jump back just a little bit to the con­ver­sa­tion Hubby and I had yesterday.

OK it was not so much a con­ver­sa­tion, but more a mono­lo­gue direc­ted at me as I sat on the couch with my mouth agape.

Hubby: So, I’ve been thin­king. Our kids are so great. They are won­der­ful. Let’s have one more! If we have one more now then we can still retire on sche­dule, when we are in our early fif­ties. We have such a great family, let’s add to it!

And on it went for about two minu­tes, while I sat there, mouth wide open.

con­ti­nued Hubby: Actually no. NO. I don’t want any more kids. Our family is great. Really great. Plus with two kids we can attend all their sports events. With three, there will always be one who is left out. NO. We are not going to have any more kids. I’m going to have my vasec­tomy tomorrow.

Blink, Blink.

Smi­ling Mom: So… do you think maybe we should can­cel the appoint­ment for tomorrow?

Hubby: Why? I’ve deci­ded. No more kids.

SM: Well, being that you are even having this con­ver­sa­tion with me, sug­gest that there is an ele­ment of uncertainty.

Hubby: Please, ever­yone has cold feet before big events, like wed­dings. I’m just having cold feet. It’s a big pro­ce­dure. I’m nervous.

SM: Um, Hubby, did you have cold feet before our wedding.

Hubby: Well, no, but that’s not the point. I’m going through with the appointment.

SM: We’re young, we could easily post­pone ‘the pro­ce­dure’ for a few years. It’s no problem!!

Hubby: NO. I’m having the pro­ce­dure done. I’m get­ting a vasec­tomy tomorrow.…End of story.

Ah, but it’s not the end of my story!

Stay tuned for my next post, The Vasec­tomy That Wasn’t Meant to Be (Part 2)

You might remem­ber my post yes­ter­day? I was all, ohh, motherhood is so great! I love my life! This is the best day ever!!

Well, it was a pretty good day, for the most part. But yes­ter­day ended up stri­kingly dif­fe­rent than it began.

A trip to the Minor Injury Clinic.

At bed­time.

Again.

But this time with BC.

BC hurt his ‘thin­kie’ as he calls it. Only God knows how, but it his ‘thin­kie’ swe­lled up to twice the size and was black and blue bet­ween the two joints.

We iced it, and I thought that the swe­lling would go down, as it usually does.

But it didn’t. I igno­red the thin­kie as best I could, but Hubby was con­cer­ned. So I called good old Kaiser’s advice nurse.

Bring him in now.

Sigh.

It was 7:00 at night.

He was finally seen at 9:15 p.m. and promptly sent to X-Ray. Once out of X-Ray wai­ted another 45 minu­tes to be told that BC had a sprai­ned pin­kie finger.

He was a super champ, not crying or com­plai­ning once during our three hour tour at the MICU.

And that’s more than I can say for his mother.

He’s now spor­ting a splin­ted fin­ger and a desire to use his hand again.

And only 1/2 a night’s sleep.

Karma’s a b*tch.

I’ll never brag again.

(OK, that last sta­te­ment might not actually be true. I’ll pro­bably brag again.)

This mor­ning has been the best mor­ning OF MY LIFE!!*

After almost two weeks of sleep depri­va­tion, cranky days, aggres­sive kids, exhaus­ted parents, and chil­dren who fight about anything and everything, my kids did an ama­zing thing.

They slept in.  (collec­tive sigh of relief please!)

Until 8:25!  My usual mor­ning awa­ke­ning hap­pens first at 4:00, and with fina­lity at 6:30.

Today, they slept until 8:25!!

BC woke up this mor­ning with a glint in his eye, skip in his step and a song on his lips.  I think I even heard birds chir­ping outside!

OH and both my kids ate break­fast without any reminders.

Today’s going to be a great day!

*this may be a slight exag­ge­ra­tion. maybe, but not really, I think.

Dear eClaire,

Today you are two.  I simply can­not believe it.   Where has the time gone?  This year has been such a fun adventure.

Last year at this time, you were wal­king around saying vir­tually nothing.  You loved to be held by me, and pretty much only by me.  Your hair was just coming in curly and peo­ple were begin­ning to stop me in the store, at the mall, and pretty much anywhere you and I went, to tell me how ado­ra­ble you were.  Now, it’s a daily occu­rrence.  I can never leave the house without brushing out and wet­ting down those curls.  “Oh her hair!!  Oh those eyes!!”  You are a beauty.

You are such a timid soul.  You take a long time, like an hour, to warm up in any new social situa­tion.  This is one thing I lear­ned about you this year.  These days I always hold you or your hand as we walk into a new set­ting.  I feel you clench me tigh­ter as you look around at the crowd.  I don’t let go.  Ever­yone wants to hold you, but I tell them that you need time.  Time to warm up and become com­for­ta­ble with your surroundings.

Howe­ver, you are beco­ming more out­going by the day.  You, at this point, are spea­king in com­plete sen­ten­ces.  I think this is so cool!!

As a mat­ter of fact, I believe that you are finally able to express your true per­so­na­lity and self now that you are ver­bal. I’ve noti­ced you beco­ming less hesi­tant in new situa­tions and more willing to play with other kids.   I love to see this hap­pen.  My heart bursts with pride as I watch you play.  You find joy in so many aspects of your life.

You are inc­re­dibly caring and com­pas­sio­nate.  Throughout the day I find you carry your baby dolls around the house con­so­ling them, “It’s OK baby, you no need to cry!”  Roc­king them and kis­sing their heads.  When someone is hurt or sad, you do your best to get help from an adult.

You are also very funny.  You somehow have mas­te­red, in a way only a 2 year old can, the abi­lity to have come­dic timing.  You know just when to make your joke.  And we love it!

I’ve fre­quently called you my “little sky diver” because I believe that you are quite adven­tu­rous.  You’re willing to jump off of any sur­face for a thrill.  Although you tend to fear social set­tings, you haven’t met an phy­si­cal cha­llenge you weren’t willing to attempt.

As a result I get com­ments such as, “Oh, is that the same bump eClaire had on her head last week?” Um, no.  “Oh, did she hurt her­self again?” yup.  You most cer­tainly will be the child of mine who will drag me sky diving in my old age!

And I’ll go.  And remem­ber when I pre­dic­ted this event would take place!

You can count to ten, higher I think. and sing your ABC’s.  You love stars.  You call them twin­kles.  You are extre­mely polite, always saying please and thank you.  (Adults get a kick out of this trick!  They love polite kids.)  And you are just begin­ning to go potty and poop on the toi­let.  Just begin­ning!  But you’re willing to per­form for candy.  And I’m willing to pro­vide the goods for the performance!!

Having a daugh­ter has been the sca­riest adven­ture I’ve ever embar­ked on.   I feel such a deep res­pon­si­bi­lity to raise you right.

I want you to know your worth.

I want you to stand tall and expect the best from those you chose to bring into your trus­ted circle.

I want you to be able to lean on me for anything.

I want to tell you the truth about life as you become a woman.

I want to ins­pire you to live a life worth living.

I want you to have confidence.

I want you to embrace your dif­fe­ren­ces and those of whom you meet.

I want you to stand up for others who are sca­red, hur­ting, or being bullied.

I want you to stand up for yourself.

But more than anything else, I want you to love who you are, on the inside.

And I pro­mise you, eClaire, that I will do my very best each and every day to help you to become the woman you deserve to be.

Happy Birth­day Baby.

With more love that I thought I’d ever have for one person,

Mommy.