Little Words Wednesday

Wednesdays are my days to do day care drop offs and pick ups. Since we are stuck in the car for quite a while on those days I strike up many different conversations with Cavin.  Boy oh boy is he a talker in the car.  Sometimes he tells me necessary things like who threw up at Pari's or if he wants water or what Ellis is doing.  Other times he tells me stories about how we are going to climb up pink trees and mountains.  And then there are times when it starts off as a normal story and then he goes off on some tangent that catches me by surprise.  Many things that spill out of his make me outright laugh out loud.  So, I figured I'd share them with you.  Hope you enjoy them as much as I do!

Cavin: "What does water do?"
Mom: "Water makes you feel better. Your body needs water."
Cavin: "And pee needs water!!!  And poo poo needs water!"
Mommy: "Uhh...that's right."
Cavin: "And then we pee pee in the plants!"

Mommy: "Guess who is coming to visit you Cavin?"
Cavin: "Uhhmmm...I don't know."
Mommy: "It's Pa!"
Cavin: "Pa??"
Mommy: "Yes. And guess what he's bringing with him."
Cavin: "PRESENTS!"
Mommy: "Hmmm...maybe.  Guess what else?!"
Cavin: "Pa is in Houston!"
Mommy: "He's bringing a moving truck!"
Cavin: "A moving truck!!!!  And then he'll fall asleep with his stocks [his word for 'socks'] on and his shoes on and then I'll take his stocks off and he'll keep sleeping! He'll be comfortable."

Cavin: "My ear! My ear!"
Mommy: "What's wrong with your ear honey?
Cavin: "It has air in it!  My ear has air in it.  You must get it out. The snowman blew air in it so mommy has to get it out!"

1-0 WHAT?

Last Sunday started off as a fun outing to the Chabot Space and Science Center (compliments of my dear friend Rebecca and Rosemont).  We saw lots of astronauts, rockets, saw a movie at the planetarium, and even got to pretend like we were weightless in a space shuttle!

And then somewhere around the Moon Odyssey exhibit Cavin asked to sit in the stroller.  I don't think he's sat in the stroller when we've been out for about a year so I knew something was up.  He said he was tired (it was 1.5 hours before nap time) and wanted to go home (what??).  So we quickly packed up and headed home.  By the time we got home his temperature was 105.1 (was that a fluke??).  We threw some Tylenol down his throat and hoped for the best.

The next morning I took him into the doctor and they were really worried about how high his fever was.   They said words like "kidney infection" and "pneumonia".  They asked me if he had other symptoms and I said "no".  Sounds like a good answer right?  Well, it wasn't.  The lack of other symptoms led them to believe there was something internally wrong and not just some run-of-the-mill virus.  Can I just say I've mastered the art of the freak out with facial expressions that show absolutely no worry.

A day later he was still running fevers north of 104.5.  When the Tylenol would wear off and his fever would spike over 102, it was inevitable that he would puke all over me.  He frequently fell asleep on our living room floor under his favorite blankie crying that he was "soooo cold"...meaning his fever was climbing.  I took him in and blood showed up in his urine indicating a bladder or kidney infection.  My first question: "HOW DO HIS LUNGS SOUND??"  I have every right to be paranoid about pneumonia. 

We had to wait 24 hours for the urine culture to come back negative. And after 5 fever-ish days without eating I can now report he is better and his mommy has exited the land of 'overreaction' and I'm in a much better place.  Today when he asked for pancakes for lunch and dinner he got it.  Who cares that it wasn't a green vegetable because he was eating! 

And what is it about kids always seem to get sick on Sunday evenings and then are magically better by the weekend?  My boss would love to know the answer to that one.

Motherless Daughters

Today marks the 3rd month since my mom passed away. I came across this book called "Motherless Daughters" that I think I should read; however, I'm worried it may bring on the sad again. Or maybe it will heal. Not sure.  I've been sad a lot lately.  But I've been happy a lot too.  And not a day goes by where I don't think of some scene that involves my mother in a hospital bed.  When those flash into my head (usually at the most random instance) I immediately try and shift my thinking to fun memories I had with mom.  Like this.

(From my wedding in August 2007.)

 Or this.

(Minutes after Cavin was born. I've always loved this image.  I look like crap...I should!  I had been up for well over 24 hours. And after waiting all night for this moment, my mom is peering over her first grandson- camera in hand!)

Call me crazy but sometimes when I get pretty upset about something...something I would of typically talked to my mom about. I sit or lie in a quiet area in my bedroom, close my eyes, and think of what my mom would say to me in this moment.  I find this hard to do and it has only really worked for me once when she told me "Jamie!  You need to start asking for help!".  She was always telling me that. Because I tend to burden things by myself...something people who really know me, well know.  I'm blessed that I had so many talks with my mom and over time I'm hoping I find it easier to remember them in the future - if the damn hospital memories would just vanish!  So that's what I'll do: try and "ask for help".  I guess I'll start by reading "Motherless Daughters".

Came across some images that made me laugh recently.  I love tickling my boys.  I guess, among other things, mom gave me the tickle gene!

When I was going through some of my mom's things, I came across a gift I gave her one Mother's Day.  It was a silver frame with a picture of my mom and I embraced. I must of been maybe 6 or 7 years old in the picture.  I engraved a message on there that read:

"Mothers hold their children's hands for a while and their hearts forever.  Love, Jamie"

In this moment, no truer words have been spoken.

8 weeks of Rosemont Love

(Yes, that's Cavin in my belly - as opposed to TexMex.)

And then there's Rosemont.  Yes, I am blessed enough to have eight more best friends from my college era.  These girls have seen it all...and then some.  And we are everywhere: Texas, New York, Arizona, California, Colorado, even London!  Yet for the last 13 years (?) we have managed to get together as a group and relive the good 'ole days.  Marriages, babies, life changes...hasn't stopped us.  We close our ears to our husbands complaints and head to (usually) San Antonio for some queso, massages, and girl time.  Last year, I remember turning to Stacy and Erin and saying "I didn't realize how much I actually needed this until I was here". Because with these girls I can be real.  We say it how it is.  We talk about how life is friggin' hard.  How it is confusing and heart breaking.  How some days we love where we are and then other times we want to go right back to our 20s.



(Rebecca - you weren't in the first picture so I had to add this one!)

A couple of us sat on the front porch of our B&B last year over some wine and really got into it.  We talked about how things were difficult, how marriage isn't always perfect, and how we sometimes feel like our kids are going to grow up and land in jail.  There was no facade or 'keeping up with the joneses', or competition that I occasionally feel when I get into similar conversations with others.  It was real. And that's what I love about these women.

When my mom got sick they stepped up.  I received a constant stream of text messages, phone calls, photos of their adorable kids (thanks Katie!).  They were there, even though they couldn't be physically.  And when she died they rallied together to send me 8 weeks of care packages (each girl was responsible for a certain week).  They sent everything from queso and our favorite cereal, to custom thank you notes, to wine, childrens' museum tickets, adorable dog collars for the furry ones, a hand made framed momento of my mom, donations to the Avon walk, pajamas, spa stuff, and more.  Every week it lifted my spirits b/c it meant people were thinking of me and loved me and were there for me.  And it wasn't about the 'stuff'...it was the thought.  It was the fact that they knew they couldn't physically be there so they thought about what the next best thing was and took action.  Because that's what best friends do...they are there.  They blew me way.  And I'm one lucky girl.  I am humbled by their generosity.

It is fitting that the last gift I received from them was a beautiful bouquet of daisies....our sorority flower.  Here's the thing about daisies: they are a wildflower and they grow in bulk in beautiful fields...and they live a lot longer than typical flowers.  They say a lot about my relationships with these girls - beautiful, wild, and forever-lasting.