Gratitude

Today was my due date, one year ago.
I am thankful my pregnancy was normal, happy, and healthy.
I am thankful my delivery was normal, happy, and healthy; enough so I am willing and able to go through it again.

I am thankful for flexible jobs allowing us to stay home with a sick kid.
I am thankful for wonderful daycare.
I am thankful for insurance.
I am thankful for the lil' dude's grandparents who are all healthy and a huge part of her life.
I am thankful we live in a safe neighborhood where we sleep sound.
I am thankful for the money that affords her the diapers I wish, warm winter clothes, and books to read at bedtime.
I am thankful for her village- the people like her "aunties", Fairy Godmother, her uncles, grandma-greats, and neighbors who can and will help.

I am thankful to be a Mother, for this, I am forever thankful.

Wordless Wednesday: Suitcase? Check

American Dream

There is a page in my baby book describing the events of my 3rd Christmas, written in my Mom's handwriting.
You asked for a Cabbage Patch Doll- but they are too spendy at $30! So Grandma S. made you one.
I remember that doll. He was bald, and I named him John. Those homemade Cabbage Patch Kids had weird noses. You could go to the craft store and pick their head out. They came in boxes with clear plastic over their faces. Weird. Creepy. And it just wasn't what I wanted. Nice try, Mom.



A few weeks ago, the American Girl catalogue arrived at our house. Two arrived; one in my name and one in the Dad's. How did they know we have a daughter? A daughter who will undoubtedly want an American Girl doll someday.
Christmas 2011; you asked for an American Girl doll- but they are too spendy at $90! So Grandma G. made you one.

I had the American Girl "Kirsten" books when I was little. I still have them. But, I never had the doll. My neighbor and BFF had the Samantha doll. Oh, the lust. I love the concept- getting girls to love reading by introducing to them vibrant characters spanning decades of history. The different eras taught girls how cool history is, how girls are just as important as boys. So, the American Girl company capitalizes on girls' imaginations by creating the dolls ... the $90 dolls. You want to buy Kirsten's holiday St. Lucia outfit? $22. She should have the holiday wreath that the Swedish women balanced atop their braids, $16. Your Kirsten doll has a doll too ... Sari, and she's $16. And it goes on.

It makes me sad knowing little girls all over have an American Girl doll on their Christmas lists. They whisper to Santa: I want Julie. Addy. Kaya ... Kit, Josephina, Molly. Samantha ... Santa, this is Samantha's last year. They are taking her away for good. I want her ...
And on Christmas, there won't be an American Girl doll, because there is food to buy, sisters and brothers who have Christmas lists too, bills to pay. I'm sorry honey. I know how much you wanted her. Because I did too.

Conversation

The Dad: "Good morning wifey."
Me: "Hello. Are you done?"
TD: "Yep, we were in and out in 15 seconds."
M: "Did she cry?"
TD: "Nope. She didn't even know it was happening."
M: "She's so tough!"
TD: "It took longer to get her coat and hat off. Just pulled down her tights and put the needle in her thigh."
M: "Dropped her drawers and got down to business, nice."
TD: "The nurse said to her, awwww, lil' dude, you are always dressed so cute when you're here,"
M: "That's because she just saw her Monday. Sorta popular."
TD: "Now we're going to the post office. Goodbye to you."
----

Somber

Maybe it's the time of year- Thanksgiving being a week away.
Maybe it's Mama hormones.
Maybe it's the very realization things can change in an instance.
Everything good can turn bad.
Be taken away.
That nothing precious, normal, perfect, loved can be taken for granted.
I don't know what, but I know this.

As I sit in the lil' dude's ancient, creaky rocking chair, smoothing her hair and calming her down while we give her Nebulizer treatments, I realize how lucky we are and how good it is.
As I look at her small, pink mouth, form an O as the mask is put on her, and the tube runs the length of her body, I know this is a simple, normal procedure. As her wet, sad eyes search mine to understand this, I can only imagine what it is like for Mamas and families and babies where something like this is their normal.

I think of her and her story.
And hers.
Hers too.

And I think what it would be like to celebrate my daughter's life in days survived. 99. 100! 101 ...
To update pictures after the masks come off and the eyes open.
After surviving another surgery.
After becoming a miracle.

I don't know what it is that makes me go here. But I know this.
I am so very, very lucky, indebted, grateful, and blessed for my daughter and her normal.
So very blessed.

Wordless Wednesday: Cheez

Therapeutic

Because sometimes, it only takes a bath.


With some good-old-fashioned bubbles.


To give a girl something to smile about.


Making everything OK.