The other day at (you guessed it) the library, the boys and I were back in the board book section when I turned around in panic to see Big Bro walking quickly past the children's tables toward the exit, book in hand. He was saying something to me in his usual quiet voice, and the low buzz from the packed kids' section made it impossible for me to hear him. I sprinted after him, leaving Little Bro alone in the baby book area, fully expecting to return later to see every single book on the floor. I caught up with Big Bro quickly; he was just reaching the end of the children's section, and I asked him where he was going. "I'm yooking for an empty table," he said. What an eye opener. My child is no longer the unpredictable toddler who runs out of the building with no warning. He is now the little boy who chooses a book and goes to find a table so he can sit and read. I am ridiculously proud of him, but it's bittersweet seeing him grow up. Soon enough no one wi...
In nine days Daddy will receive a kidney transplant, and my world will change drastically. Although I should be leaping for joy, I am terrified. God wants to lead us out of Egypt, but I, foolishly, like Israel, prefer slavery to the unknown. A similar drastic and terrifying change happened three years ago, though I didn't know it was coming then. Daddy's kidneys failed, and our carefree (as much as you can call life with a six-week-old carefree) existence failed as well. Now I had a newborn to care for and a very sick husband whom I could no longer serve the tasty, healthy meals I had just become good at preparing, but only white bread/rice, bland meat, lettuce, candy, and mayonnaise. Then there were his 5 or 6 twice-daily prescription medications. How were we going to pay for this? We figured out the diet well enough, and the vast majority of the meds were covered by insurance. After a year, we started daily home dialysis, and he felt much healthier. He was even able to eat a ...
Big Bro turned three today. I used to record all his memorable moments in a journal, but my hand starts to cramp just thinking about writing down all of today's joy. But I can type. I was towelling off when I heard him wake up over the monitor, his munchkin voice singing "Ring around the Rosy." That's how he began his big day. When I went down to get him, I told him Happy Birthday, and he said Happy Birthday right back to me. That's how it went most of the day. Like Merry Christmas or Happy Easter. The sentiments are reciprocal. Why should a birthday be any different? He came upstairs to find balloons, always exciting. Under the balloons were a new roundhouse and turntable for his trains. He was excited and played until we dragged him (not quite kicking and screaming) away for banana pancakes. He savored his breakfast until he almost popped. By the benevolence of the cheap birthday fun gods, Big Bro's birthday was also First-Tuesday-Free-Museum-Day at Balboa P...
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