Yearly Check-Up

Yesterday, I took the boys in for their yearly check-up, and the verdict is “healthy as horses.”

DAVID
Weight- 36 ½ lbs, 90th percentile
Height- 38 ¾ inches, 75th percentile


Currently, David….
-loves to listen to the song “Thriller” by Michael Jackson. It’s on the mp3 player that we put on at nighttime, and if that song comes on while we’re still in the room, he’ll say politely, “Mama, Dada, can you please get out?” I guess he wants to experience the moment.

-loves it when I sing the song “You Made Me Love You” to him. He’ll ask me to sing it again and again.

-falls asleep immediately if you put him in Time-Out too late in the day. This poses a problem because then he’s not sleepy at bedtime. Grrrr.

-got 2 shots today--- both flu vaccinations. He was an absolute champ about it---looked a bit worried and whimpered a bit when he got the actual shots, but didn’t cry once.

-is at this moment playing with the “treasure box.” (An knickknack box with all my old costume jewelry in it. They boys enjoy pretending its pirate treasure.

STEVIE
Weight- 48 lbs 90th percentile
Height- 44 ¾ inches 75-90th percentile


Currently, Stevie…
-is becoming more aware of his surroundings. He’s easily upset when things don’t go his way, and often gives way to tears. (Must be hereditary). He’s such a tender-hearted guy!

-has recently become much more loving towards me. It’s incredibly flattering, I must admit. I secretly love having the boys fight over who gets to sit by me. And what mother doesn’t crave extra hugs and kisses from her little man?

-is so, so smart. The other day, he started playing “homework,” where he asked me to write out a bunch of addition problems for him to do. Afterwards, we checked his work—and the little stink got every problem right! I’m so excited for him to start kindergarten next year, because I know he’ll love it.

-is at this very moment playing Lego Batman on the Wii—it’s become his new obsession and he’s scarily proficient at it! I would protest more, but Daddy likes to play with him, and so it’s become a sort of Daddy/Stevie bonding time.

There’s much, much more I could say about both of them, but of course I can’t remember anything at this moment. Pregnancy Brain is fully setting in, and I’m lucky if I remember to put on pants in the morning. (Incidentally, this baby seems to violently oppose pants, or any other restriction placed upon him—including sitting. He’s extremely territorial, and sometimes I feel like he’s just going to tear his way out of there! Either that, or he’s practicing for the 2012 Summer Olympics Gymnastics team).

I found out for the first time last night that my mother’s death was not just bad luck. After the lawsuit, it finally came out that the nurse who was administering her pain medication after surgery gave her 10 times the normal dose for someone her size. They admitted that after the lethal dose had been given, there was no chance of Mom surviving. My mother didn’t die of organ failure like they'd told us. She died of an overdose.

What I’d like to know is why the big charade? Why keep us on torturous pins and needles for 7 days, continuously giving us tiny shimmers of hope that maybe this or that treatment or surgery would bring her out of it and back to us? Why did they draw out our suffering when they knew they’d already killed her?

They were probably hoping for a miracle too.

I’m angry. The worst part of all of this is that it’s brought back all of the “what if’s.” I thought I was through playing out the “what if” scenarios in my head, but this makes them fresher than ever.

It was all a terrible mistake---an accident, yes, I know, I KNOW! But one tired woman’s eyes working the night shift happened to misread a decimal point—-and now all of us left here have to go on living, knowing that it was all a mistake.

It’s not fair.

Things the Lord Might Be Trying to Teach Me

Obedience. Even when things don't make sense to me. I need to remember that some things are bigger than myself and bigger than all the minds of the secular and spiritual world, and that as I struggle to find the right answers, I need to trust Him. I need to let go of my pride and just trust Him.

Humility. I need to humble myself enough to receive service from others. Acting like nothing's wrong all the time doesn't help anything. When someone's hand is outstretched, I need to take it. I did that today and it made a world of difference. How else can His angels do their work?

Faith. If there was ever a time where faith and faithfulness were absolutely necessary, it's now. How will can I ever teach my boys anything if I continually waver? I need to change my "I believe" to "I know." But, O Lord, help Thou my unbelief! Help me to be diligent when its easier to be irresolute! "Here's my heart, O take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above."

Gratitude. The blessings in my life are amazing, and oftentimes incredible! These aren't coincidences--these are hand-delivered answers to prayers and sometimes even to secret desires. What tremendous gifts I've been given, and through no merit of my own! It's time to slow down and recognize more fully God's constant hand in my life.

Love is in the air...

Stevie Jr. is constantly surrounded by women. He is vastly outnumbered by oodles of cute little girls at church, and has apparently adapted to his situation quite comfortably. He's also one of the two boys in his preschool class, and often can be found playing "Daddy" in a routine game of "House."

Today we went to the park for a little impromptu playdate with some friends. After awhile, we noticed that he had been holding hands with his little friend Rachel for quite some time. Upon further examination, we realized they were playing "House," and Stevie was (once again) "Daddy." (Stevie and Rachel often play house together, and cavalierly call each other "Honey" with an unusual air of confidence and authority).

I ooed and ahhed a teeny bit on the cuteness of it all--until I happened to glance up at the top of the slide just in time to watch Stevie plant a big kiss on the Rachel's mouth.

I just about died laughing, all the while advancing on them as if to---WHAT, exactly?---I'm not sure. Give them a scathing lecture on NICMO'S? (Non-Committal Make-Outs). And of course by this time they had already run off and were playing there next game--as artlessly and nonchalantly as only a recently kissed 5 year old can do.

Later, upon gentle questioning, it was discovered that they were pretending to get married, and so OF COURSE they had to kiss. Realism, apparently, was of great importance--and in their sweet, innocent 5 year old minds, marriage=kissing.

So I just mentioned lightly that we really shouldn't go around kissing our friends, and that hugs and holding hands were probably just fine. But man, that was one cute moment. Wish I'd had my camera.

Good Friends and the Idiot Car

I am an extremely irresponsible person. Besides you’re all-around laziness, I also tend to be an extraordinary procrastinator. About 2 months ago, I got a ticket for having an unregistered car—unregistered because it hadn’t passed a recent inspection. THIS WEEK, we finally took the car in to get it fixed enough to pass inspection.

Because of this, the boys and I drove Steven to work this morning in his car. (sidenote---I hate Steven’s Idiot Car---from its ridiculously loud engine to it stupid 2-door entry---I hate it). Anyway, I tend to get a tad loopy when I’m up 2 hours early and its cold outside and I’m 7 months pregnant. Loopy enough, apparently, to forget to turn off the headlights when we got home and completely run down the battery.

So while I WAS feeling rather pleased with myself for getting the kids wrassled and ready to go to the gym by 9am this morning, I was less than proud to realize my earlier loopiness had most likely made us housebound for the rest of the day. But miraculously, after a few distressed phone calls and one last desperate attempt, it started.

Unfortunately, this was not the end of the Idiot Car’s troubles. While we were driving to a lunch date with a friend, the clutch suddenly crapped out---fully and totally. I couldn’t shift the gears. I tried my best to cruise into an empty parking spot somewhere and finally glided into a Quizno’s (parking lot, not the building, thankfully). I ended up having to call AAA and get a tow (which took 45 minutes to arrive).

Lucky for me, my wonderful friend saved me. She not only offered to come and pick me and the fellas up, but to wait with me until the tow truck arrived. All this with her own 2 kids and one more besides in the backseat. She even took it upon herself to belt in the car seats in order to save me the embarrassment of getting my tent-like self wedged between the seats.

So while it was initially a very irritating and upsetting incident, it gave me a great excuse spend a little time with a great gal. I went from feeling like I was going to cry and pull my hair out to feeling completely calm and laughing my butt off.

Thank goodness for good friends.

Oh, and I hate that Idiot Car.