Bubbles

Perspective

So, you remember how I thought there was no worse fate on earth than a teething, grouchy, whining, clingy baby? Well, there is something worse. One that is all those things AND sick with her first cold. Unfavorite moments from this week: G's smothering while she tries to eat and crying from frustration of being hungry but not hungry enough to suffer like that, often opting not to eat at all...coughing so hard she vomited the Motrin I just gave her to keep her fever down...the learning curve of nasal aspirators and saline drops (did you know that salt water is the ONLY recommended drug for colds in children between 1 and 2 years old?? no decongestants, no expectorants, just good ol' salt water and good luck to you)...wimpering/crying after a coughing fit because her back and stomach probably ache from all the coughing, and general malaise that made me want to cry-for her and for me and my lack of sleep. In all seriousness, I don't think I have ever felt so helpless as I have the past couple of days.

But, friends, happy news. We appear to be seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. Tonight she was her old self-plain delightful, dancing in her highchair, chasing the bubbles Sean was blowing with happy squeals to boot...it's as if God decided to let me have my little Monkey back after a long sabbatical away from home (and for which her stand in was Mr. Hyde). She does not have any more teeth than she had two months ago; this means the past month of teething symptoms have thus far failed to produce.

I couldn't resist this little shirt on the Target sale rack. I thought, "right?".

Thankful

We got home from our trip down to Florida last night. I can say we are in a single piece, in spite of the difficulties of travelling with a toddler, who likes nothing less than sitting still for five seconds, particularly in an enclosed metal tube with 150 other people for two hours.

This trip was bittersweet for me. The first part was very hard, and involved me tying up the last of the loose ends for my brother's funeral. Since no one else appears to be capable of dealing with the finality of his illness, I made calls to funeral homes, discussed procedures and packages, got prices, transported Dawn to see the facility and fill out the necessary paperwork, and got the Hospice minister over to pray with us and talk to us about Jim's service. On my last trip we went to the Hospice facility (where he will go in his last week or so of life) and chose a chapel for his service. In my stronger moments, I'm all about getting everything set so we are prepared, logistically at least, for his death. In my weaker ones, I lament and feel sorry for the fact that I have already lost all my grandparents and parents and now will be the last of my close relatives (although I do have a gypsy sister that I have seen once in the past 7 years). So, for me, this week was all about valuing and giving thanks for the things I have instead of regretting the things I don't. And for making sure Jim and Dawn had one last anniversary dinner (today is their 17th wedding anniversary).

That being said, I am reminded of this little coaster my mom brought home from the convenience store she worked at when I was in elementary school in the height of my adoration of unicorns and horses:

It has survived probably 25 years in my custody. I think I added the fortune cookie message after my mom died. But, as cliche and saccharine as it is, I love it because it reminds me of my journey...my learning to embrace the transcience of this life through the transformation of people close to me to eternity. It's sad, but it's beautiful for people to return home.

Anyway, my dear mother-in-law, Suzi, came down early for the holiday to help me with Gillian (Sean joined us Tuesday, and G and I left Sunday bright and early) and get a little one-on-one time in with her. We stayed right on Jax Beach, just about 10 minutes from Jim's. I really forget the magnificence of the sunrise and sunset in Florida, being away from home so long. From our vantage point:



We enjoyed quiet mornings on our balcony drinking tea and delighting in the antics of our darling girl, who with the added extra attention, seemed to forget all about the teeth that are still not in! Bearing witness to the graceful morning was such a cleansing thing, and such a priviledge.

Sean came in on Tuesday, and we spent Tuesday night with Andy-an old, close friend of his, and his very cool wife, Erin. They have a beautiful little boy named James, who Gillian really fell for. When her passion got the best of her, what could I say? She's a chip off the old block:


On Wednesday morning we headed out to Sean's family's river house for Thanksgiving ("the Farm" because they use to farm cattle there), and picked Suzi up from Grandmama's on the way down. Suzi wanted to make a pit stop at the "Hobby Horse", a children's boutique, to pick Gillian up some Robeez. Gillian is REALLY into ducks these days, and they just happened to have a pair of Robeez with ducks on them. Needless to say, she wore them out of the store. She proceeded to "quack" for at least the next 5 miles, and it is clear she really loves those shoes!

When we arrived at the Farm, a gorgeous piece of property that means a whole lot to the entire Colledge family, Aunt Mimi and Uncle Dave were waiting to greet us. They even had a little gift for Gillian-her first cammis in case anyone wanted to go deer hunting (yes, this gift was tongue in cheek...Mimi said G could now be "Putnam County Chic" and fit right in!):


The Farm is on the St. John's River, at a point where it is a mile wide. It is quiet, and beautiful, and situated among the Cypress trees. It is at the end of a dirt road, Colledge Road, miles from the nearest highway, and very private. When the world is crazy, changing every second, the Farm is what it is, and nothing ever changes there. This is the scene of Sean and Kimberly's infamous "Yard Child" incident-where their mom arrived to see them covered in mud in their underwear happily playing in the back yard. Even more-Sean's father and uncle Shep and Aunt Mimi were born there and lived there until they moved back to the city house. So, there's a million memories there, spanning four generations. We look forward to bringing G and any other children down there to create their own memories...

The house from the dock:


G visiting with her Nonni and Grandaddy:


Uncle Shep arrived with his wife Eleanor, and a giant burlap sack of fresh Oysters, which folks ate raw or cooked off the grill. Wednesday night was a night for catching up, and the whole family was there. Sean and his cousin William (G's Godfather) played tunes by the fire, we ate well, and there was plenty of meaningful conversations and joking going on. Gillian slept in the same crib that Sean did when he visited the Farm, and ate in the same high chair. Coming from a family with no tradition or sense of closeness, Wednesday and Thursday felt like a soft, warm blanket. I am 100% sure that I want to raise my children that way.

Thanksgiving Day dawned beautiful and clear. The sun came over the river like lava, spilling orange fire everywhere.


Everyone woke up at their own pace, and Dave started frying the turkeys around 9:30. Gillian loved being the center of attention, and hammed it up every chance she got. She was shameless in her flirting with her handsome cousins, who lavished her with attention (let me be the first to say there is nothing sweeter than a bunch of young guys being cute to make a baby laugh).

G with Mama and Papa (note: duck shoes)

G surrounded by admirers (who humored her during their pool game by letting her put their respective balls in the holes):

G by a tree:


Dinner was warm, delicious, and wonderful (though I skipped out on part of it to put a very sleepy G to bed).


The afternoon was for quieter conversations after a big meal, eating brownies, blondies, or pumpkin or pecan pie, or skeet shooting. I gave it a go, because I had never touched a gun, but it is safe to say I don't think I'll ever be a sharp shooter!


We got up early Friday morning and had to say goodbye to everyone, which was very sad. Our flight home was easier than the flight there because I could get up and walk G (on the way there, a lot of turbulence made that out of the question...ironic that Sean was there to share the pain on the easier flight!).

Reflecting on the trip, I feel like I understand something important that gives me peace about Jim-he found his place like I did in the arms of a real family. Dawn's family loves Jim, and have banded around him like a fort all these years. He was the orphan they welcomed into their family, just as Bill and Suzi welcomed me into theirs. He has had 17 years with a wonderful woman, and 16 with his beautiful daughter. He has fought like hell to be here, to savor every single one of those years. Life is impermanent, to be enjoyed in this moment, every second we have. We get the pleasure of living it with people we can love and who can love us. We get the pleasure of experiencing amazing things that are given perspective by things that aren't..things that ache. So, Cheers, Jim. Godspeed. And thank you, my family, for giving me a place to Be.

An aside: Gillian definitely misses her family!

Reaffirming my Faith in Humanity

I remember when I was pregnant that you really couldn't count on anyone to give up their seat on a train or bus for you, even if an obviously-pregnant you looked hot, miserable, and were putting pressure on the small of your back to ease the pressure. Death of chivalry? Nah. Just a lack of common courtesy. It's the same reason that all the 20-something businessmen avert their eyes and pretend they don't notice when an 80 year old woman with shopping bags gets on the train. They should stand up immediately and offer their seat. But they don't, and for that, they SUCK (I want to say as much as I try to guide the elderly person to my seat while staving off the oblivious folks that inadvertantly try to take the seat I am trying to give to said elderly person).

Anyhoo, today I had to go to the doctor, and Gillian had to come with me. My Metro Lite stroller doesn't feel so light now that I have a 19 pound baby and a 20 lb stroller to carry up and down the stairs at train stations that don't have elevators. But, a magical thing happened. At EVERY leg of my journey, a kind and wonderful man offered to help me carry Gillian up or down the stairs at the train station or in or out of the bus, or held the door for me. Big, scary, meaty men were playing peekaboo and waving at Gillian with big silly smiles on their faces each of the four legs of our trip, and she charmed all the boys in the waiting room at the doctor's office. She brought out the sweetness of every single person we met today with her unabashed flirtatiousness. How could someone NOT have a little happy rub off on them after seeing a delighted and pure little light like G's?

So, I want to say "Thank you, Universe!" for our wonderful experience. Although I could have managed by myself, it was so fabulous to have a little help...and as a Mama travelling solo, I so appreciated every act of kindness!

Wrecked

Do you ever have one of those days where your baby just wears you out and you feel like you could sleep for a week? Gillian has been having one of those days every day for over two weeks. Remember her fever? Seems that it was related to teething. And here we are. Still teething. And she is wearing us out. We are tired.

See, when Gillian is teething, she follows you around the house and whines, pitifully clutching your legs because she wants to be with you. Every single second. Maybe not EVERY single second, but almost. She is miserable. Even with enough Baby Orajel, Tylenol, and Motrin to kill a small horse. She is pulling at her ears, as she has been for the past few weeks...and it's not an ear infection, per the doctor. I don't see any teeth via my very brief glimpses as I try to peek when making her laugh (since there is obviously no worse torture than trying to take a look at her gums). So, I am wondering how much longer is this going to last? And, more importantly, will we survive till then? Gillian's alter ego is alive and well, and my glimpses of my happy, sweet, laid-back baby girl are few and far between these days. Last night's Friday night dinner date hearkened back to another hellish teething moment, and was traumatic enough for us that I can honestly say we won't be going out to dinner again until these teeth come through (I say TEETH instead of TOOTH because it just can't be possible that all this is the result of the movement of just one tooth). Then there's the face grabbing/pinching/poking and the "tear everything off every shelf" that is both uncomfortable (for us) and a recipe for the house to be a disaster area every day.

For now, we look forward to nap time. When we get a break-a couple of luxurious hours of the baby's sleep-it gives us time enough to recharge our batteries so we can make it through the rest of the day. But lately-one short nap instead of two long ones. So, no break. Then....ah, then, there's dinner (an on-going struggle). Here's an example of what dinner is like:


She is not interested in food. Again. Plenty of it ends up on the floor. Food is definitely more fun to play with. The latest trick is scraping it into her lap, ensuring at least most of it goes a) on her clothing, b) on the floor, or c) both a. and b. Exhausting. And messy.

This is not to say there aren't plenty of great things going on, but I am actually pretty grouchy after a rough day. Since I have been preoccupied by more than I want to discuss right now, I haven't been managing my videos properly. So, for Nonni and Grandaddy, here are a few keepers to tide you over till next weekend:

1) Gillian is pulling up and actively using the walker she got for her birthday:


2) Gillian is cruising fairly efficiently:


3) She is (and I finally videotaped it) still into brushing her teeth (of course, we are not allowed near her mouth, so it's all her):


4) And she is doing some imaginative play with giving her bath toys a ride in a plastic intertube, complete with a simulated motor sound:


There is more (learning body parts and stacking blocks, for example), but *yawn*...I am only imagining that next weekend on the plane will be one of the more unpleasant experiences of my life (and everyone elses on the plane, unbeknownst to them). Because of my brother's condition, I changed my ticket and will be leaving a few days before Sean and taking G. So, Good Luck to me. Are there such things as mommy vacations?

*sigh* and *sigh*