Big Day 'Round These Parts

" I'm going to be free, mommy!"

**Do you LOVE his "3" t-shirt in the pictures? Check out In Stitches. Tiffany makes super cute tees for babies and toddlers. She's also made a couple of onesies for Lucy with L's on them. I'll get pictures posted as soon as I can get shirts over her head post-surgery!**

Family Medical Leave

Monday morning we will be headed to the hospital. At 1:00 p.m. my little Lucy will go in for surgery. Starting today and through all of next week I will be making all my posts over on Lucy's site. Tune in there for frequent updates.

lucyjeannash.blogspot.com

Regular blog posts on this site will resume...when I'm ready.

Thank you for your constant prayers and support!

Perfect

I'm not perfect.

I don't write perfectly and I don't speak perfectly. I don't complete projects perfectly. I don't treat others perfectly and I certainly don't pray perfectly.

My house isn't perfectly clean. My shirt isn't perfectly white. I'm not a perfect mother nor a perfect wife and I really don't cook all that perfectly.

But there are two things in my life that I have made with absolute perfection.

Their names are William and Lucy.

Of course I had a tiny bit of help from the big guy upstairs. OK, a lot of help.

How cool is the making and birthing of babies? How perfect is God's creation?

You love someone else so much that out of that love comes a whole new unique human being. Something out of almost nothing.

So forgive me nurses and doctors of Gillette Children's Hospital if I'm not the most agreeable parent. If I demand something that you're not used to. Or if I don't smile when you walk in the room or laugh at your effort to make small talk.

I've met you once, Mr. Doctor. I know you're good at what you do and I'm going to put my faith into trusting you but please understand that I'm going to be a bit bitter when I have to hand over my little perfection for you to cut into her tiny, perfect head.

I've met you never, Mr. Anesthesiologist. So yes, I am going to be there when my little Lucy drifts off to sleep. I know that's not convenient or standard practice for you but it's going to have to be for our family.

And to the nursing staff, thank you in advance for taking such good care of my little Lucy. But because she is my little perfection please understand when I insist on giving her mama's milk and only mama's milk. I understand most parents do it differently but this is the way we do things.

I know with all the tubes and bandages it would be easier to feed her with a bottle. But my little Lucy will be in enough discomfort and utter confusion about what is going on so what she wants, she will get. If she wants breastmilk from the breast we will work together to make that happen.

To the Gillette Hospital staff, I am so thankful that God has given you the talents you possess. It truly is a miracle in every sense of the word the marvels that you are able to accomplish. If I seem rude or uncooperative please know it isn't because I doubt you. It's only because you're dealing with my own, tiny, perfect, miracle. I'm sure you would act the same way if it were your own perfect children.

He's Making a List, Checkin' It Twice

This morning William would not take his eyes off the iPod Touch I mentioned in yesterday's post. In fact, he wouldn't take his eyes off any part of the Christmas catalog.

I know there are some ultra traditionalists out there that don't celebrate the commercial version of Santa Claus. And for those families, that's what works for them. But Brian and I each have fond memories of waking up on Christmas morning to a wonderland of gifts. Gifts that we absolutely knew our parents would never buy for us. We want our kids to have that same magical feeling.

Of course, we always strive to keep Christ at the center of our celebrations. As He should remain. Nativity scenes, advent wreaths, books and traditional music can always help drive this point.

But for our family I think it's OK, if not even a little healthy, to drop in a dose of that jolly ol' fellow in the big red coat. I love how Santa Claus inspires the possibility of miracles in children. A belief in something we can't see yet proof that it exists.

That said, there is no way in this lifetime that I will be buying an iPod Touch for my three-year-old son. However, I still can't help but love the little twinkle in his eyes, the silence that overcomes him as he gazes at those glossy magazine pages and dreams of what could be.

Worst Mom in the World Award Right Here

This morning I didn't want to go to Target. But we had two diapers left. And while I did have plenty of paper towels and duct tape on hand I wasn't about to stoop to those levels.

So I made what I thought was a good decision and went to the gym, which happens to be right next door to Super Target. I had myself a great body pump class. Biceps, triceps, squats and lunges. It was great.

When I picked up the kids from the Kids Club I became preoccupied. Lucy was crying when I walked in. She never cries there. And while I was holding and comforting her I looked over and noticed William's nose was bleeding. Again. He had a bloody nose when he woke up this morning as well. Minnesota + Autumn+ Dry Weather = bloody noses for William.

If I didn't feel like going to Target before the gym, now I really didn't want to go.

But diapers. I needed diapers. So I went.

In the carseats they went for all of two minutes while I whipped the car over to the Target parking lot and out again.

I swung one arm under Lucy's carseat handle and used the other to guide William into the store.

At this point William was going on and on about how he "just wanted to look mommy" at telephones for his birthday present. (The kid saw an iPod touch in a Walmart Ad which resembles my non-i-anything touchscreen cell phone and decided he wanted that for his birthday.)

I walked in to Target and set Lucy's carseat on the floor while I untangled a cart from the stack. I was still listening with one ear to William babble about birthday presents when I was finally able to free a cart. I wheeled it over by Lucy and reached down to grab her carseat to lock it into place in the front seat. That's when the unthinkable happened.

I don't even want to talk about it. Except that I'm posting about it so I guess I have to say it.

I dropped her. Or her carseat, rather. With her in it.

I don't even know how it happened. I keep rewinding the series of events in my mind and I still can't figure out how it happened. I know my arms were feeling a bit Jell-O after my workout so I'm sure that played a part. But who drops their baby?

The seat fell hard to the ground and somehow flipped over so that she was now facing the ground. Still strapped in she was dangling like some sort of amusement park ride.

I gasped and quickly flipped her over and started crying. But not as hard as she was. I tried to undo her buckles so I could pick her up but my hands were shaking too much.

William was still talking and now was trying to quiet his sister by covering her mouth with his hand. He clearly did not understand the severity of what just happened.

I decided I couldn't deal with him at that moment so I tried to get him in the cart to contain him. But again I was shaking too hard and I couldn't find the strength to lift him up.

"Buddy," I said, "Can you crawl into the cart by yourself?"

"Sure, Mommy!"

Bless his heart. He got up there enough so that I could push his bottom up and over. Plop. He was in.

Back to my Lucy girl who was still wailing. I finally got her buckles undone and picked her up and cuddled her close.

Right there, in the middle of the entry way of Super Target, we had ourselves a moment.

Lucy cried. I cried. William gazed around the store oblivious to anything. Shoppers walked in and shoppers walked out and I didn't care who saw us or what they thought.

When her cries settled to just a whimper I pushed the cart with one hand and held Lucy tight with the other. I steered us over to the baby section and found those damn diapers.

It's Called Life

When the Nashes experience a major life event we do it in threes. Or fours or fives, as I'm learning.

In the two weeks surrounding Brian's and my wedding we also bought a house, moved, went on our honeymoon and Brian started a new job.

In April Lucy was born. Then we put our house on the market. It sold. We looked for a new house. Bought a new house. And then moved. I thought that was it.

Then we found out about Lucy's surgery. And for the cherry on top Brian was recruited to a new company. He accepted and started last week.

Since April I feel like I've been running on fumes. Each time I think I see the light at the end of the tunnel something else comes up.

I keep telling myself that I want to blog more. Ideas pop into my head throughout the day and I tell myself when I get home from the gym I'll get on the computer. But then I clean up the kitchen or answer a phone call or play with my smiling baby instead.

Then I say after lunch when the kids are asleep I am definitely getting on that blog of mine. But then I remember we're running low on baby food and I should probably puree those pears before they go bad. And really, let's be honest here, are the kids ever asleep at the same time? Noooooooooo.

Then Brian comes home from work and angels break out into a chorus of hallelujah. We do dinner. We do clean up. We do baths. We do jammies, books and bed. And by that time this computer of mine seems so far away and I just want to sink into the couch and watch the latest Grey's or have a funny conversation with my hubby.

So then I say after Lucy's surgery things will definitely get back to normal. Or wait. Maybe after Thanksgiving. Well then we've got Christmas. Ok, Christmas. After Christmas things will definitely, for sure get back to normal.

But will they? Maybe this is my new normal. It's life with two kids in a bigger house that requires bigger upkeep and married to a husband with a bigger job that requires bigger amounts of time away from home.

I'm not sad or upset. This is the closest I'm going to get to the fastlane. What life would have felt like if I had stayed a career woman. Juggling 78 balls in the air at once while hopping on one foot. I love that! And I'm good at it.

But this blog needs to go up a few notches on the priority ladder. It deserves better from me than a once-a-week post. You, my dear reader, deserve better than that. And, if truth be told, I really need this outlet for myself. All bum-wiping and no writing makes Mama Nash a dull lady.

So bear with me while I try to figure out how I can get more quality 'puter time worked into my schedule. Probably idea #1 is getting this machine out of the basement and into our mainstream living area. Or maybe convincing hubby I need a laptop. But that's probably a no-go seeing as we just bought this totally pimped-out computer last year. So then I'm guessing finishing the basement into a family room is out of the question as well? **Sigh**

Halloween 2009

Now and Then: Halloween Edition

2007

2009

In Which My Husband Gives It To Me Straight

Watching the Gopher vs. Michigan State game

Me: Ooooh, he's a nice looking young chap.

Brian: Who?

Me: I don't know, whoever that guy is.

Brian: That's the Michigan State quarterback.

Me: Oh, OK.

Brian: And he's a sophomore.

Me: So?

Brian: And that means you're ten years older than him once your birthday rolls around in a few months.

Ouch.