Mahalia's Valentine's Book for Dezi

This book is about Dezi.

He is a cutey-Dezi-whoonit.

I had a dream that our whole family lost it's hair.

I like Dezi-booty but he is very small.

I call him all kinds of names from my brain.

Dezi is one nit-o-noodle.

A Trip to the ER

Being a baby is about being sick and growing stronger to survive in this dirty world. Desmond had his first trip to the ER. He'd vomited several times earlier in the week and then suffered cramps or stomach pains every 15 minutes or so for days on end. They gave him an IV, they drew his blood and gave him chest x-rays. I'm not sure who was more traumatized, Desmond or his parents. In the end, it turned out that Desmond had poo up to his neck. Two days and three enemas later, it appeared that his belly was a bit emptier.

He was better for a few days and then, having traveled for Christmas, threw everything out of whack and got socked with another cough and cold. Dr. Dad reassured me that it's all part of growing up. My bleary eyes and sore back are convinced that all this illness is actually an effort to kill me.

Sometime in my 20s I started thinking on day one of vacation about the last day of vacation and how quickly it would pass. I have to admit, though, that I'm ready for the schedule to kick in again. I'm ready for work and babysitter and school to start up and for time to resume per usual. In the midst of it all, Desmond is on a sleep strike and having been pushed to my limit , I've decided to let him cry in his crib. Bummer. Being a baby is not that easy after all.

Coco bump

Desmond has learned a new trick. It's a Paguirigan classic called coco bump wherein I say, "coco bump" and Desmond responds by touching his forehead to mine. We like to do it no less than 10 times per session and it generally ends with giggles and squeezes. His new grin is nothing less than amazing and shows off his two teeth and his ability to scrunch his almond eyes.

It's all Christmas up in the joint complete with an Advent Calendar and loads of candy lying around the house. I have mixed feelings when I fill Mahalia's head with lies about Santa and how he's watching her, etc. In keeping with another Paguirigan tradition, I told her that if she put her shoes out on the eve of December 6 that she would wake to find them stuffed with candy. She was terrified by the fact that St. Nick would be sneaking into the house and pleaded with Shane to tell St. Nick that we had plenty of candy in the house and he need not sneak into our home. Conveniently, St. Nick left a note to Mahalia asking her to not be scared and that she deserved the candy coming to her. More lies!! For the time being, though, it is a convenient bribe for our little lady who lately prefers to push the envelope with her weary mom and pop.

It was 60 degrees on Tuesday, 40 on Wednesday and is supposed to be 30 degrees tomorrow. I am flustered by the blustery weather and consuming too much coffee to ward off the chill.

I am astounded by how quickly the days pass and am looking forward to having some time off, spending my days in soft pants snacking on salty then sweet then salty, etc.

Every Good Brooklyn Boy Must Love Bagels

This Train

Desmond has two teeth and has learned how to clap. He applauds when I walk into the room and cries when I leave. He eats like a mack truck and Shane and I think about when we have two teenagers eating us out of house and home.

We took him to the surgeon a few weeks ago for a check up. A chest x-ray revealed that his patch seems to be a little loose on one side although the stitches and staples have not moved since his last chest x-ray. A week after surgery Desmond's breathing accelerated and the Dr.s worried that his patch had de-hissed or popped open on one side. A chest x-ray was inconclusive and so there was a dye procedure that proved that it was holding tight. And so we are reminded that our little bionic boy does indeed have a piece of gortex inside of him.

This morning Shane let me sleep in. 8:00 AM feels like the 11:00 AM of my twenties. What did I do with my time and my money before I had children?

A 20 something year old woman passed out on the train tracks right in front of Shane. The lights of an incoming train were visible and people started screaming. As the woman lay sprawled across the tracks and the train got closer and closer, Shane thought about his two kids and knew that he needed to go home--he would not jump onto the tracks to get her. Astonishingly, the screaming woke the woman up and she jumped up and reached into the air. Shane was able to grab her arm and he said he pulled as hard as he could to get her onto the platform. They sat together on the bench. He said that she was really out of it and that wanted to vomit. He never even learned her name.

Forget about underlying health issues. Forget about a patch. We all sort of live so close to the edge at all times. Bam.

Autumn In New York

I cannot wrap my head around the movement of time. Desmond, who turned 6 months old last Wednesday, is hiking his tuchus in the air as if to crawl. I will blink my eyes and I will have children in their twenties.

My days are full. My days are rich.

I have returned to work and am remembering how much I enjoy being around children. My classroom is bright and airy. The tinkling of the piano and the sound of teeny tiny bare feet padding on the floor make my heart feel happy.

While Shane was putting Mahalia to sleep last night, she put her hand on her chest and said, "When you love someone it feels like your body loves them." My girl will love intensely and hurt intensely. She stands on the toilet and admires herself in the mirror while I floss my teeth, "I am so pretty." She is. She is drop dead gorgeous. "Your hair is brown and straight. My hair is blond and curly."

When I hold Desmond, he pats my back with his right hand and plays with my hair with his left hand.

Returning to work was easier this time around. I sat in a meeting, doodling in my notebook thinking to myself, "this is not work. this is like a break for me." I was excited to see my colleagues and friends. It means much to me, being there without the weight of worry. I spent so much of my time last year with my head in the clouds, worrying about birth defects. I am not pregnant. I might not ever be pregnant again. How is it that this chapter of my life has already come to a close?

(I secretly worry that I will never be able to appreciate life as deeply as I would like. The days move too quickly and not a profound thought has been thunk. It's all I can do to get to work and make sure my kids get fed.)

I have been deeply affected by the sharp decline of a sick friend and my mom reminds me that with age, life gets "heavier and heavier." Autumn, for all of it's beauty, is somehow the most painful season change and for me carries with it the most visceral nostalgia.

I cannot stop listening to this song.

Sweet

This sweet, sweet child has changed my life forever.