Monday, February 28, 2011

Heaven will be better than...

The bottom of an oreo milkshake with extra oreo.
The moment they lay your newborn on your chest.
A warm baby curled into your stomach, every breath a gentle coo.
A perfectly seasoned filet.
The hug of someone you desperatly want to be pressed against.
Your parents' approval.
A new vacuum.
Accomplishing a carpentry task without a trip to the hardware store.
New mascara day.
New sheets day.
The smell of sun on a blanket.
Your love laughing uncontrollably at a joke you made.
Free lunch.
Feeling totally confident that you are wearing the appropriate outfit for the occasion.
Catching a softball perfectly.
Catching a 2-outer on the river when your opponent just suckdd out on you on the turn.
Bubblebaths.
A baby's grin.
A perfectly dressed salad.
Having great in-laws.
Purposeful art.
Self-indulgent art.
Art for a grade.
Getting to sleep in when you didn't expect to.
The smell of indoor pools.
Hot soup on a cold day.
Cold soup on a hot day.
Wafflecrisp.
Disneyworld.
Riding horses.
Playing miniature golf.
Riding go-carts.
Playing laser tag and winning by a huge margin.
Impressing someone without trying.
A prospective employer offering you more money than you expected.
The feeling of having it all together.
An even suntan.
Not having a copay at the doctor.
Looking great in a family photo that is put in some highly viewed area.
Having the best family anyone ever had.
The smell of the Smokey mountains.
Fried footlong corndogs.
A 68 degree day in February.
A breeze in August.
Swinging.
Remembering all the stuff you meant to pack into the car, including the superfluous just-in-case stuff.
When the superfluous stuff you brought ends up being useful.
Hiking.
Someone taking you seriously.
Someone getting the obscure joke you made.
Your kid telling they love you so much.
Having a plan.
Not having a plan.
Hammocks in the shade.
The smell of hyacinth.
Waking up to birds singing.
An evenly sharpened pencil.
The Steve Miller band.
Puppies.
Kittens.
Fresh laundry smell.
Anything this world can offer.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

He knows

He knows every pebble, every grain of sand, every feather, every wave that hits the shore. Nothing beautiful is lost because He knows it and He is eternal. I take comfort in that.

"I want to paint the clouds pink." -Marley

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Marley's new favorite topic

Meghyn: I never thought that I would be so calm about finding someone's booger in my hair.
Bob: I never thought that I would voluntarily get fingerprinted.
......

Marley: Where did Trent go?
Meghyn: To the bathroom.
Marley. Oh. With his vagina?
....

Meghyn (very frustrated) (under breath): I wish Daddy was a girl.*
Marley: With a vagina?

*Because girls are better multitaskers.

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

A stitch in ER time.

We were all working on getting dinner ready. Marley was rolling a mini pizza dough and Bob was just finishing up his gnocchi and taking the pizza he made out of the oven. I was holding Solo and setting the table. We were listening to jazz and everything was going very well. Solo started getting a little fussy so I took him to try for a nap.

As soon as I lay him down I start hearing Marley cry. It continued for a moment and when it didn't stop and instead started getting worse I picked Solo back up and went back to the kitchen. There is Bob with his back to me with Marley in front of him on the counter and he says, "We have to go to the hospital." My heart stops for a beat. "Why?!"
"She fell and she's bleeding a lot and it is everywhere."

She had fallen going to her seat to have dinner and the transition from linoleum to carpet or just plain toddler gravity pulled her down and she smacked her head into one of the dining room chairs. Bob had managed to get most of the blood contained (because he knew I would freak out) but she had it all over her face and her shirt, his shirt, his hands and her hands were all covered.

The cut was directly above her right eye and she was wailing. Bob is trying to keep her calm and hold a cold wet rag on the cut to keep it from bleeding. Marley who hates to have anything on her face was so so sad looking. We decide we have to go to the hospital. Then I realize none of us had eaten since around 1 and it was 6. I offered Marley some pears because I knew the doctors would refuse her food. She wouldn't take them. So we throw everything together and get in the car to go to the hospital across the road from our subdivision.

Turns out that is just some testing/lab building and we didn't know where the actual hospital was. So I look it up on my phone and get the address but I cannot get the map to come up. So we head in the direction and I start calling every single person I know to get further directions. By some trick of fate no one answered their phone. But as we neared the exit we needed my dad called me back and told us how to get to the nearest ER (we didn't know because we just moved to this area).

We got there and began the ordeal all parents know or learn to fear. The ER wait. There was a wonderful man working doing generally helpful things and he showed Marley this beaten up half-crumbled sticker of Mickey Mouse that his daughter or granddaughter had given him when he had started the job 5 years ago and Marley really focused on that. Then he called someone on a walkie talkie and they later showed up and gave Marley a stuffed dog to cuddle and have. Wonderful man.

My review of the rest of the hospital is less glowing but I will chalk it up to duress and the fact that all emergency rooms are COMPLETELY UNDERSTAFFED ALWAYS.

Solomon was getting pretty angry at this point. He had cried the whole car ride but once he was out stopped but resumed after the novelty of the situation had worn off. Bob took him to ride in the car and fall asleep and get some food since we were all getting pretty calorie-deficient at that point.

Shortly after the boys left they called us back and looked at her and the doc told me it needed two stitches and some glue and that they would have to strap her down for safety. I immediatly recalled Bob.

So he returns after only having been home long enough to find that our damn dog had decided to crap in the foyer (and he cleaned it up). Still starving and Solomon wakes back up upon leaving the car. It is now about 9 and a half hour past Marley and Solomon's bedtime.

Marley is being remarkably well behaved. She is not running around or yelling or anything. Just asking for the cookie and apple juice the nurse said she could have (without mentioning it had to be AFTER the procedure). Solomon is being remarkably good for a tired displaced baby with a double ear infection. I, however, not tolerating the wait so well at this point. My fiercest face is when my cubs are in need. My SECOND fiercest face is when I am hungry. I had both of these things in play so I kept wandering where people could see me and stamping my foot (yes I stamp my foot).

At 10 the doctor gather his nurse and implements and they strap Marley to the blue board thing. I kept trying to warn Marley of what was going to happen but she was focusing on the cookie and juice aspect only (heartbreakingly cheerful).

I cannot explain how sad it was to see her little face sticking out from the blue wrappings. Her eyes terrified, blood in her hair. It was f---ing awful.

I knew that stitches was no big deal but I knew the real ordeal was going to be the process of keeping her calm and still. Marley was crying now and I just held her face as still as possible while the doctor jabbed her would with a syringe of saline. I CANNOT BEGIN TO GUESS WHY I WAS RESPONSIBLE FOR HOLDING HER HEAD STILL WHILE HE DID THIS.

Bob will tell you that I was indeed the only person holding her head (which she was trying to shake it back and forth) as he very literally had the syringe a half inch from her eye. Poor Bob could do very little except speak words of encouragement because he had to keep Solomon safe and quiet. Luckily he has practice at encouraging words (see birth stories of MMW and SJW).

Marley just kept saying "It hurts! Mommy up! Mommy up!" Except she was screaming it. Then I told her that when she was done she could get up and mama would hold her. Then she started screaming "I'm done!" That got a general chuckle.

Finally he finished with the terrifying glue and stitching. I pulled her straps off and held her while Bob told her what a brave girl she was and what a good job she did. Then after more wait they finally gave her the @#$%^&*(&^%$# cookie and apple juice. MORE WAIT and they released us at 11. The doctor said there should be very little or no scarring but to make sure we keep it out of the sun. Luckily it is February. I will probably never ever write that sentence again.

So my overall opinion?
Emergency rooms should be avoided at all costs. Stitches are really not all that bad unless they are near your eye. I am changing my major. My daughter AND my son are amazing.

Tomorrow is Marley's day. We'll be here eating cookies, reading Day in the Life of Murphy and watching Mary Poppins if you need us.