Archive for May 2008
Weekly Winners
Oh, my friends, hasn’t this week rocked around quickly? I can barely believe it is Sunday again but here we are ready for another issue of Sarcastic Mom’s Weekly Winners. Hope you go on over and check out all of the wonderful photos.
Busy hands
Not many boys can pull off pink…
but Noah can.
Dryer fluff.
Clinging to Aunty Kris
.
The reluctant model.
Nelson the sook or Puppy love.
Poppy love.
Daddy love.
Caught!
More Daddy love.
This boy loves his trucks.
Oh, yes, he’s a car head!
My fave for this week.
Twin love.
In Noah’s world.
The boy’s nose is running and his eyes are red and scratchy.
He comes into our room and snuggles down.
He cups my face and says… ” You kiss it better, Mummy”.
“Awwww”, I soothe, “Do you have a cold?”
He considers this for a minute, considers his surroundings and the fact that he is snuggled up in the parental bed, “No, I warm”, he answers.
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He loves The Wiggles and his PJs reflect this.
They are weird though, in that, Dorothy’s face overlaps at the buttons, essentially giving her three eyes, where the pattern is repeated.
“How many eyes does Dorothy have?” one of the big kids coo,
“Dorofee has free eyes” he replies.
“How many eyes does Noah have?” asks his father.
He squishes his stubby toddler finger in the direction of his eyes, “one, two, threefourfive…and a half”.
All bodies in and about the bed rock with laughter and mirth.
Hmmm, perhaps three eyes is not so weird after all.
At least, in Noah’s world.
Dentist week and William’s notes.
I wish I could name names sometimes because yesterday I took Ivy and Noah to the dentist.
Not just any dentist but the best dentist in the world.
She was lovely. thorough and has brought us one giant step closer to havivg a type of Ectodermal Dysplasia for Ivy and Imogen.
I’m not really sure what having a ‘type’ will mean, aside from the fact that I have been able to access all kinds of journal publications about Rapp – Hodgkins and have a better understanding of the ED process. I am very thankful that they have a mild case and I am also thankful that their teeth can be looked after by our new paediatric dentist.
The practice also has three dental nurses, all were lovely and they were not phased by twin toddler tornadoes.
At all.
At one stage Noah mosied over to a nurse who was looking at xrays of a jaw. He looked at her and then pulled himself onto her lap. She hugged him close and then explained the picture that was before them. It was totally sweet and so unlike anything I have experienced in professional rooms before.
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Today I am going to read William’s notes again.
It will be the last time.
I have been trying to access them for over six months.
Am I nervous?
Yes.
I want to take everything in, commit it to my memory for one last time.
I don’t want to forget the little things.
There is already so much of his birth that I can’t remember.
A whole significant portion of his birth that I have lost,
that I can’t piece together, no matter how hard I try.
For whatever reason, my brain cannot process it and so I have to read the notes to help.
I promised the obstetrician this would be the last time.
I am hoping for the sudden onset of a photographic memory…
Crazy…
I know you all know I’m crazy, right?
So it will be totally safe to tell you that I have been having these awful nightmares and you will accept that just as you accept that I am as nutty as a fruitcake.
Nightmares are a recent addition for me, as an adult. Sure, I had them as a kid but as an adult they were few and far between (unlike some people, who have recurring dreams about ghost cats in a haunted house – not mentioning any names, but if I said wonderhusband, you would all be smiling and nodding knowingly behind your computer screens, wouldn’t you?).
I started having vivid dreams when I was pregnant with William and the worst part was, they came true. So, when the nightmares come the hair on my arms prickle and I sit up and take notice.
Just a little legacy from Will’s time with me.
Yeah, crazy, right?
Anyhoo, these dreams are freaky and they are about Ivy, of course.
For anyone who doesn’t know, Ivy sleeps in my bed.
She just does, ok.
I don’t like it, it’s squishy and I often ache in new and interesting places, so that I can share my space with the girl but ever since she’s been sick, I’ve stopped fighting it and just let her be. I figured, she’d become a teenager one day and not want to sleep with me anymore.
These dreams come in the small hours and they are about the girl, not breathing.
At all.
They are very graphic and detailed and in the night I get them mixed up with reality sometimes.
The prednisone keeps her temperature very low and as a consequence, she is cold to the touch, even though she is perfectly fine.
And I panic, okay?
There, I said it.
It’s scary and it’s not doing either of us any good.
Or David for that matter because I cry out and wake her and wake him and ask him to get my stethoscope just so I can listen to her little heart beating away and then I can’t get back to sleep for fear that she will, you know, just stop breathing.
I know where this is heading.
It is insomnia inducing and breakdown worthy but what I don’t know is what to do about it.
It feels crazy and yet it doesn’t.
I can break it down. I know just where all the fears are coming from. I know it has everything to do with William dying and with all of the stuff that is going on with the girl, well, it’s just me trying to protect myself because I couldn’t do it again. I couldn’t survive.
I can’t even say it.
When those fears whisper in the back of my mind I push them away, make them not so, because we all know if you don’t think about it, it will never ever happen, right?
There is some sense to it all, if that makes…sense.
So here it is; out in the universe, floating around, my sanity (or insanity, depends how you look at it) hanging by a thread.
Be kind, okay, because I haven’t had much sleep and we all know that kind of deprivation makes a girl emotional.