jitters

Today was the kind of morning I dread: school drop-off, a few errands, an appointment, and an early school dismissal. Every minute of my three hours was accounted for without wiggle room. And then of course there's a baby who requires an hour to nurse. Oy.

In short, it went beautifully. I accomplished everything I needed to do and rolled right into school at straight up noon for Peter. Thanks to Reenie for taking Davis so I only had one tag-along.

Speaking of school...




Today was the first day of pre-K 5s and I believe his exact words at this moment were, "Mommy, I'm so excited!"

He ran right in, no qualms at all. In all the commotion we locked eyes, shared a wink and I blew him a kiss before he was off again. So, so were we...

Upon dismissal, he was all smiles. He gave me a thumbs-up and I asked if it was perhaps a double thumbs-up kind of day. He grinned and responded, "It was a triple - no, a thousand thumbs-up!"

My heart smiled.

Later today, Peter spontaneously confessed he had been nervous this morning. We talked about how common that is on the first day of school and I described the feeling of "butterflies." I thanked him for being so brave. After all, it's not bravery without fear, right?

He's getting so big, but he's already so wise.

on a lighter note

we went back-to-school shoe shopping today. apparently the boys are afraid of not being seen, because they chose the brightest and boldest shoes in the store.

a dose of perspective

My dad's family is primarily based in a town south of New Orleans named Houma. My dad was very close to his cousins, aunts and uncles. While I did not grow up perched on this branch of my family tree, I feel they are very much a part of who I am and their devotion to each other represents what family should be. I am fortunate to keep up with faraway family via Facebook and blogs like this one.

Bob is my dad's cousin. Bob was way younger but their mutual love of medicine trumped an age gap. I know Bob and his wife Dana hold a very special place in their hearts for my dad. This story is about their branch on the Davis family tree.

About ten days ago, I got a message that my third cousin (second cousin once-removed?) had been in a skydiving accident. A month ago I might have read about a stranger in such an accident and snarkily asked what the moron expected from such risky behavior. Because I'm so not a risk taker.

But this is different. Hunter (Bob's son and my cousin to whatever degree) has been flying airplanes since age 9. He just graduated from VMI and proudly joined the Air Force. Frequent skydiving was part of his military training and done so often that it became a nonevent to see pictures of him in flight on Facebook. "There he goes again," I would think, with a cringe and an attaboy all at once. This kid made me scared, but he made me proud.

Hunter is based in Texas and was participating in a routine exercise when his parachute failed to deploy. I'll spare the details but somehow he has survived. His young body is so broken, yet it seems his spirit is completely intact. A miracle to be sure.

Of course Bob and Dana flew directly to Texas to Hunter's bedside as the rest of the family awaited reports from their daughter Robin. Poor Robin is stuck in North Carolina doing her residency and trying desperately to be in two places at once. In the days that followed came surgeries, tests, consults, decisions... The news was not great but even 'not great' is better than anyone would have expected for a man who fell to the Earth at terminal velocity. He has since been moved out of ICU into a floor room at a military hospital in San Antonio and are working together with multiple specialists and teams to formulate a plan. A plan that will require months and months of physical therapy, discomfort and perseverance. But he's alive. In spite of what has happened and the memories thereof, he insists he will dive again. It's what he loves.

If only that were all. During this first week post-trauma, Bob had to go back home to be with his father, Bill, who had been hospitalized with renal failure. Today, my great uncle Bill has passed away, finally reuniting with his beloved wife Polly.

I am heartbroken for my family. And through it all they have exhibited such grace and courage. Not just Hunter - Robin, Dana and Bob have been catapulted into an impossible situation and are doing extraordinary things. I am so proud to call them family.

This whole situation sits heavy on my heart. It makes me think about how my own father died doing something he loved dearly. It makes me wonder what his miracle would have looked like. I am thankful and prayerful that Bob, Dana and Robin get to find out what Hunter's will be. Clearly he is meant for extraordinary things. He's got a few guardian angels up there rooting for him, not to mention the many lives he and his story have touched.

I ask that you hug your loved ones a little tighter tonight. Please keep the Davises in your prayers. They need all the strength they can get.

photo ops

"Daydreaming will get her to leave me alone, right?"

Always with a furrowed brow - so serious!

A pajama love fest - the big boys love on him as much as he will allow them.  Too bad they won't love on each other!

party of five

Legoland has exploded in my basement. 

Believe it or not, this is the before picture.

  

Not unrelated, my boy is five.  My curious, thoughtful, intense little man is five years old.  And he will tell anyone who will listen.  Sometimes more than once.  

He woke Friday morning wondering if he was five or if he had to wait any longer.  When we confirmed that the birthday police would not come after him for claiming five years of age a few hours early, he immediately asked to open presents.  From that moment, my day was devoted to Legos.  It was a Lego extravaganza, a day spent in his pajamas creating a space shuttle, a few police vehicles, a safari jeep, a speed boat and several non-descript buildings and vehicles from his imagination.  I couldn't even convince him to leave the table to go out for lunch, so he had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich at the Lego table.  He was in heaven.  I was "allowed" a few breaks to feed Matthew and care for Davis, but I was commissioned to help with the building of the shuttle.  This mission was made more tedious by Peter emptying all the bags FROM 4 DIFFERENT SETS into one pile.  That'll teach me to take a shower.

We had several birthday parties to attend this weekend, so we'll be celebrating further with a few friends later in the month.  We had cake.  With sprinkles.  That and Legos made it "the coolest fifth birthday ever."  If only he'd remain so easy to please.

Hayes took the big boys to the botanical gardens here in town to revisit the treehouse exhibit.  Davis napped especially well.

This is how I will always picture Davis.

Curiosity

Brother Love

He CAN be silly!

Oh, and there's another little fella who wanted to say hello.

Doll.

happenings

train-obsessed Davis could not take his eyes off of this locomotive.  awestruck.

watching the olympics just wore him flat out

at the toy store where neither boy shops - they just watch the model trains and play signalman

i stepped away for a minute and davis greeted me asking for this magazine

 

An addendum to the last post:  if you don't believe the whole Belushi/Animal House analogy, consider this.  I emerged from my room this morning to the news that Davis had taken a bowl of Easy Mac from the pantry and attempted to eat the raw pasta for breakfast. Thankfully, he had the sense to put it aside after the first taste before he opened the cheese packet.

And then there's Matthew, in the Baby Bjorn for all the above excitement, usually asleep.  I have mentioned that he is a good sleeper in spite of two rather rough nights we have had post-hospital.  Tuesday night he even blessed me with eight uninterrupted hours of sleep. This week he has developed a fussy time from 8 - 10pm, but I'm optimistic it'll fade in the next week or two.  I know that no schedule or phase is permanent; in babyland everything changes every two weeks.  Eight hours sure felt nice, though. 

dare i even think it?

Hayes arrived home from work tonight to a quiet house, happy and full-bellied (even dessert-ed) kids, and a smiling wife. Granted I wasn't gussied up waiting in a dress with a scotch in my hand, but in this house that's a pretty good homecoming.

I've struggled to fill the days given my nursing schedule and Matthew's very brief wakeful periods throughout the day. Leaving the house for any significant time period is often more trouble than it's worth. But then despite my efforts to encourage productive and imaginative play, the television is getting a lot of use these days. I hate that. Not because I'm anti-TV (have you seen our DVR list?!), but because I know my boys are creative and clever and I absolutely love watching them play together. They tend to zone out in front of the tube so I feel like they're missing out on something really special. That said, it's a temporary solution and I know it. I'm just remembering in the weeks post-Davis, it was noteworthy if Peter made it through a day without a Mighty Machines movie. That makes me feel better.

But really, in the nearly six weeks since Matthew was born, Davis's language has exploded and the big boys are actually forging this - dare I say - friendship. They spend a lot of time together in the early morning before they are allowed to emerge, and it's annoyingly fun to listen to their conversations and giggles at 5:30 am. That is until you walk in to find Animal House has taken over their bedroom, Belushi (Davis, if there was any doubt) is sprawled on top of the dresser, and the floor is not even visible under the toys, books and blocks. I've always hoped they'd find common ground despite being so different... though I really don't want a fraternity house down the hall.

But I digress.

The past two days have seen a shift in more than just schedules. I've noticed a shift in attitudes, as though the big boys are embracing their role as brothers instead of just roommates. They fight, of course. One picks and the other tattles and someone is always inevitably crying. But they are learning to work it out themselves and then it's over. They play and giggle and share again until the cycle starts again.

I am beginning to think I can do this. Sleep and caffeine are crucial, but I think I may survive.

Even so, Hayes shouldn't get his hopes up about that scotch...

finally friday

We survived... on way too much television, but our first week alone has passed. Lots of lessons learned during those five days, not the least of which is that I am surrounded by good friends who swoop in just in the nick of time.

I spent my Friday evening at the grocery store, as I had neglected to really plan ahead for the last (catastrophic) visit. This time I was alone, relaxed after riding alone in my own car and listening to my own music as loudly as I pleased. I took my time strolling every aisle so I could stock up on anything I may need in the next several weeks. I'd rather take boys in for bread and milk than a long list of necessities.

As I finished up and headed for the check out, I passed the pharmacy section and remembered a little tidbit from our last visit. After his Cain-Abel moment and a few more minor transgressions, Davis disappeared momentarily only to emerge with a bottle of Tums saying, "Mommy! Tummmmms. Mommy! Tummmmms." Now anyone who spent any time with me during any of my pregnancies would have seen me pop Tums like candy from all the heartburn. Mercifully, it always disappeared at delivery. But here we are, 5 weeks on and little man was looking out for his mama. Didn't want me to forget my Tummmmms.

How can I possibly stay angry with such a sweet soul?

I still think I'll opt for night shopping, though. It was nice not having to apologize to anyone.

Thank goodness it's the weekend!