Finally Four

Two years ago I wrote this, apparently Micah has been waiting a looong time to truly be 4. The very first thing he said to me when he walked down the stairs was, "am I 4?" Since Micah was born at 1:16 AM he truly is four years old.

For some reason Micah's birth still brings me to tears. I don't know if it was that it was in the middle of the night, that I was convinced the baby was a girl named Mae, or that I had my 2 sisters at the hospital with me.  Before Micah went to bed the night before his birthday we looked at pictures of him being born (on the computer of course, I am a 'wee' bit behind on his baby book) and watched videos of him just minutes old.  It was truly a magical event.

And apparently, I really wanted a third child. You can hear in the background of one of the videos me telling my sisters that of course I will have another, I still need a daughter.  Didn't get a daughter, but one of the silliest boys I know. Can't imagine life without Finn.

Micah is so much more low key then his older brother. Jack cries that Micah gets the first pancake. "You can have it" Micah tells him.  Opening presents Micah looks to Jack to see if he wants to open it or even play with it. But when he opened his first Lego kit he said "my very own Legos!" It was awesome to see how excited he was.  Micah choose Mexican as his birthday dinner, partly because Jack wanted the little roll up tortillas they only make at dinner time.

The thought I kept having on Micah's birthday was about the ages of the boys. I looked at Micah, just turning 4, then I looked at Finn, almost 2, and then I looked at Brandon and said: "WHAT WERE WE THINKING??"" When Jack was 4, and Micah was 2, I was 7 months pregnant.  For the first (and probably only time) I will say I am glad I am not pregnant.  My heart still breaks a little to know I am done having babies, but the sane part of me is enjoying this new stage. The ability to walk out the door with only a diaper and wipes in my purse. No car-seat carrier, stroller, hooter hider, baby Bjorn, or diaper bag in sight.

 The Birthday Boy leaving preschool

 His special friend from school helping to celebrate his birthday

 Micah really loves fire

 Birthday morning - love this boy's hair

 His very own down vest, just like Daddy's

 A boys only trip to the zoo

 Can't you just see them behind the wheel of a car? 

Be afraid, be very afraid

Happy, Happy, Birthday Micah!

Space

I am feeling much better now. I will admit when I wrote that last post I was in a pretty cranky mood. The worst part was the actual event with my husband had happened a week or two prior, but obviously, I still had some issues.

But now I am doing better, really I am. I think the reason is I have had a chance to have some space.  Space from a lot of things it turns out.

Space from work, as I had Spring Break, which meant a Monday that I did not have to hit the ground running. A day to sit back and enjoy being home.

Space from the kids. A weekend away, even though it ended with a kid puking, but still some solid hours kid-free. Time on Saturday mornings that I am out of the house by 9:30. While that sounded early and stressful, the reality is, I am so happy to have some time to myself.

Space from vomit. Finally we have been a week without anyone throwing up. I couldn't be happier.

Space from the rain. I'm not sure if I would be this happy if I had not just had 2 beautiful days with sun shining.  I did not realize how much I was missing the sun, and the hints of Spring, until I was on a walk this week. The rain was gone, the sun was poking through, and I caught the first scent of Spring on the air. It was magical.

A little space was good. I can't promise that I will be the best nurse to my spouse in the future, but I will try.  Um, maybe.

The Puke Bowl is Not For You!

A few weeks ago the stomach flu entered our house. A very uninvited and unwelcome guest. One who is unfortunately still around. The first one to get sick was Micah. He is such a sweet little boy but one who is always moving. As soon as he says his stomach hurts or he is clingy and cranky, I should be aware that he is probably under the weather. I don't, though, I tend to be slightly annoyed and frustrated that this boy is whining, clinging to me, and prone to tears.  Then he throws up and I feel bad. Really, after the third time, you would think I would catch on and be a little more aware of the situation.

Micah first got sick in the night, after changing the sheets for the third time, we settled him down again and gave him the 'puke bowl'. I am sure you have one or had one as a kid. It is the designated bowl for when you are sick. It goes by the side of the bed, next to the couch, wherever you are.   I have been lucky and the few times we have battled this type of virus, the two older boys figure out how to use the bowl. I understand that this is a tricky concept that not all kids get.

Once the initial throwing up is over, the puke bowl is properly sanitized and put in the basement until next time.

A few days after Micah was sick, I woke up to my husband not feeling well.  I am pretty sure I have mentioned before that my nursing skills do not stretch to cover my spouse. And, yes, I do know that this makes me a terrible wife. Okay, maybe not terrible, but definitely not a kind, loving one (at least when sickness is present).  At first Brandon is just tired, then he says he doesn't feel well, finally saying he is nauseous.

I am not sympathetic to begin with and as soon as he says "nauseous" and heads to bed, I am for lack of a better word; pissed.  After spending a total of 9 months nauseous, through 3 pregnancies, working full time, taking care of two kids, I have ZERO sympathy for nausea.  If you aren't puking, get up.  Don't be a wuss.

So, all of this is going on as I am re-adjusting my plans for the day. Trying to get the kids ready for school, figure out what Brandon is doing today, and realizing that the secret date night I had planned was not going to be happening.  I was, to put it mildly, not in a good mood.

And then I walk into the bathroom. Right there next to the toilet is the puke bowl.  WHAT?!  Why is that up here? Apparently, Brandon felt he might need it.  Oh, no, I say. The puke bowl is NOT for you! As an adult, you have to be bed-ridden for the use of the bowl. Otherwise you can make it to the bathroom.  Again, don't be a wuss.

It might have been about that time that Brandon informed me that he had thrown up THREE TIMES. Oh my goodness, well then, you had better get in bed and take that puke bowl with you. That is quite alarming. Three times, did you say? Maybe you should go to the hospital? See a doctor? Oh, no, that's right, three times is nothing. Not until you throw up in an elementary school bathroom, with the smell of urine all around, and then return to class to finish teaching, will I have any sympathy.

And since you work in computers that will probably never happen. I'm just saying.