23 Months Old!

Tate Christopher turned 23 months old yesterday, June 23, 2011.  As I laid on the bed watching him nap this afternoon, I was in awe of my having brought this little boy into the world.  And when I think of where he began, on that very bed, I'm just amazed, simply amazed by all of God's goodness, by how amazing the human body is especially the female body and how very blessed I am.  


But for a few different decisions in my life he wouldn't be here.  As I've sat here tonight I've given that so much thought.  From what if I had not gone to Australia for those 2 weeks?  What if I hadn't have spoken up and asked Christian and Raik if they wanted to join Tammy and me for dinner that last night in Cairns?  What if I wasn't a pediatric dentist making a very decent living which afforded me to take that trip to Australia?  What if I had decided to not tell Christian about my plans to have a baby on my own until after I had been inseminated by an anonymous donor?  What if he hadn't been generous enough to offer to donate?  What if he hadn't of been brave enough to fly halfway across the world to get to know a girl he had only spent 8 hours with 10 months prior?  What if we hadn't have hit it off while he was here that August?  And what if I hadn't have been so lucky as to get pregnant that very first time I tried?!


It's mind boggling.  How one misstep or maybe just a different step would lead all of us on different paths with different people.  That knowledge definitely makes life seem so much more fragile.


I'm so happy.  This little boy is the light of my life.  Sometimes the light dims when I'm stressed, worried and tired as I have been this week, but it never goes out.  He's my constant.  His laughs, his giggles, and oh my the things he says!!  My little talker!  I'm so very proud.  I'm so very thankful.  I'm so very happy.


One day I'll write his birth story along with the story of how I met Christian and how we got me pregnant because those stories are an integral part of who Tate is, who I have become, who Christian has become to me and who we will all be together.


Happy 23 Month Birthday Sweet Boy!

I Need Med-cine

'I need med-cine' Tate said Sunday night after I placed him in his crib.  Truer words were never spoken, though sadly I didn't listen to my 22 month old.

Saturday morning, I called our pediatrician's office.  I am so thankful that their office sees sick kids on Saturdays and Sundays in the mornings.  I was even lucky that it was our very own pediatrician on call this weekend, so she was there.  Tate's fever had spiked to about 102.5 overnight.  He was fussy and upset in the morning and wasn't thrilled about eating.  Like I said before I usually don't worry about fevers, but this was slightly higher and it had been persistent, only dissipating for at most 2 1/2 hours with analgesics.  So off to the pediatrician we went.  Imagine my surprise when she suggested it might be pneumonia given that he had had a cough for a few days which I had attributed to his seasonal allergies.  So, she sent us to their lab there in the office for a blood test...pleasant :(.  We left with instructions to treat this like a virus unless his CBC came back positive for pneumonia or he developed symptoms such as difficulty breathing, lingering productive cough.  We were to return if the fever lasted past Sunday evening.  The only other concerning symptom per our ped was that his throat seemed very erthemyatous yet she didn't think it was strep throat, so a throat culture wasn't done.


We made our way to my parents' house for the rest of the weekend in order to celebrate Father's Day with my daddy.  I was absolutely exhausted as was Tate.  It was a long day as he just didn't feel good.  He wanted to be held alot and none of his toys really held his interest.  We took a nice long nap together.    The afternoon was uneventful if whining and sadness don't count as events.  The night was long as he was still running a fever and had been all day.  He woke up every other hour needing me to hold him...poor baby.


Sunday morning he and I made a pilgrimage to the grocery store, as he seemed in good spirits.  His fever was hovering around 100, so I was thrilled.  He was so happy to be out of the house as was I.  Once back at my parents' his fever broke completely.  I just knew we were on the mend.  At 11:15am I was changing his diaper and noticed a rash in his groin area as well as some streaks on his upper thighs in the diaper area.  A quick perusal of the rest of his body showed a full body rash excluding only his arms and legs.  In my hopes that this was simply some sort of allergic reaction, I gave him his normal dose of benadryl for those types of occurrences and put him down for a nap.  The rash dissipated quite a bit, and  his fever was gone!!  After I laid him down I became worried that he might have scarlet fever once I recalled the red throat from Saturday's visit to the pediatrician. Knowing that scarlet fever is simply strep throat and a rash I decided to call the on-call nurse and glean her thoughts.  I was more concerned now;  I wanted to start antibiotics as soon as I could if indeed this was scarlet fever.  As the nurse went through her triage list she couldn't come up with a diagnosis (extremely nice woman).  She suggested I could wait until Monday for normal business hours or I could go to a pediatric urgent care clinic.  We discussed it and I ascertained that she thought I should take him in as soon as I could to have the rash looked at.


As I was on the phone, my father was holding little Tate in the bedroom as he was between the stage of sleep and awake having only napped 55 minutes.  He was so sad;  it was so obvious he was just miserable.  But watching my father hold my beautiful son in his arms trying to comfort him touched me in ways I cannot express.  It's not often I see my father with his guard down, so this was something special for me.  He loves my baby so much, and I'm so very blessed to have had the opportunity to witness my father father someone.


My mother and I whisked Tate off to the urgent care clinic.  Bless his heart, he was beside himself.  Crying, whining, fussing...the works.  We were in a room for evaluation before we knew it.  The ER doctor had him cultured for strep, and the quick strep came back negative, so scarlet fever was ruled out for the time being.  The culture was sent out for the 48 hour test to insure he wasn't just about to come down with strep. In the interim she diagnosed him as either having an allergic reaction to the virus he had or it was a viral rash.  We returned my mom to her house and headed off  to our house.  My mother joined us later that evening as we knew Tate was going to be unable to go to school on Monday.


Once home, he seemed a little more content.  Dinner was a disaster like all meals had become in the past 3 1/2 days.  He threw a couple of really good tantrums which worried me because he just doesn't do that...was it just the start of the terrible 2s?  or was he simply miserable?  He was constantly saying 'teeth' and pointing to his mouth as well...no sign of the 2nd primary molars yet though.


I got him bathed, dressed and ready for bed.  I put him in the crib while I cleaned out the tub and got all the bath toys picked up.  I walked back into the room to get him to read stories when he said those fateful words....'I need med-cine.'  I told him no he didn't, he didn't have a fever and he wasn't complaining about something hurting.


Little did I know.


An hour and a half later he woke up screaming and thrashing about.  I gave him some ibuprofen as it was obvious something was bothering him...teeth? rash itching? just all over malaise?  I put him in my bed and he drifted back to sleep after about 30 minutes.  I joined him in bed a couple of hours later, praying for a somewhat restful night as I had to return to work the next morning.  Thankfully my mother had come over to watch him this week.


Sunday evening was relatively uneventful though he woke up 2 more times.  It was a little difficult to get him back to sleep each time, but he did sleep.  Monday his rash was definitely more pronounced...covering his face, torso and neck.  He stayed home with my mother and was definitely not a happy camper and lethargic.  I worried all day at work, calling as often as I could to check on both of them.  At 69 my mom is doing great, but an unhappy, sick, scared little almost 2 year old is challenging for anyone. 

Tate's diaper preparation!!

Monday evening...EGADS!  He was beside himself once I got home.  He threw 3 huge tantrums complete with flailing about, thrashing, bucking, screaming and crying over the slightest indiscretion on our part.  He wanted cheerios, we gave him cheerios in a bowl.  Nope that wasn't right.  Tried the cheerios in a plastic baggie...not right either.  And so we progressed.  By the time it was time to head to bed he was exhausted, though he didn't want to go to bed.  As I was preparing to read him his bedtime stories in the rocking chair he hopped down, put down his loveys and pacifier and pronounced 'POOP!'  He then proceeded to pull down all the diaper accoutrements for a diaper change complete with changing pad, diaper rash cream and wipes and climbed up on the bed!  Mama wasn't fooled though.  'Goodnight Moon' was read and into the crib he went.


Two hours later screaming ensued.  This time he was about inconsolable.  Finally, he exhausted himself and went back to sleep in my bed.  I climbed into bed around 1015pm.  I was awakened by kicks to my back at 1120pm and crying and screaming.  I tried holding him, rubbing his back, swaying with him in the bed. I gave him ibuprofen and tried singing to him.  Nothing was working.  We walked the floor like I did when he was an infant.  No real comfort.  I retrieved the loveys and pacifier and sat with him in the glider, pulled the comforter up over us and just rocked and sang.  Amongst hiccups and sniffles he drifted in and out of sleep for about an hour.  As I held my sweet boy who was so miserable I was beside myself.  He has yet to have his MMR vaccine.  I was holding off as I thought it was just too much medicine for such a tiny person at the tender age of one.  And yes I was/am concerned about the possibility of it being a trigger for autism...not the cause, but I believe it can trigger something to go off.  And last year when Tate was turning one he had his ear infections, ear tubes, and all of his allergic reactions started occurring.  I simply did not want to tax his body any further.  I had always spaced out his vaccines, so I was delaying this one.  And now I wondered did my sweet, sweet baby have the measles.


He had the dry cough during the nights, he was complaining his teeth hurt (possibly the Koplik spots I couldn't see?), the terrible red rash and fever.  All he was missing, in my opinion, was the conjunctivitis.   And my guilt was intense.  I felt like the worst mother EVER.  My fears and concerns probably unnecessary may have caused my baby to catch a disease that has been just about eradicated.  My need to be so ridiculously in control of his little life was causing him pain.  As I rocked him I was so upset I couldn't even cry.  This little boy I waited my whole life to have was miserable and I couldn't console him.  We were both miserable.  We slept and rocked in our glider for 3 hours.  And I prayed.


Finally, I crawled back into bed with him after he woke the last time around 215am and we slept until 530ish.  He woke furious.  Tantrums in the bed.  Tantrums on the floor.  Tantrums downstairs in the kitchen.  Nothing made him happy.  He wanted cheerios, but not the way I presented them.  He wanted milk but not the way his grandmother offered it to him.  And it continued.  Now I was really scared.  And I had to go to work.   He had never thrown tantrums like this before...was it because he was in so much pain or was it that he's almost 2?  Or was it an awful combination of them both.  I realized my mother was panicked about staying home with him alone.  I had her call my father and ask him to come join her for the day.  Meanwhile Tate vacillated between extreme upset and extreme calm with his loveys and pacifier.  We finally got him calm for what seemed like would be an extended period of time, and I finally had to leave.  I was numb with worry, fear and hating to leave my precious boy when he was so out of sorts knowing that he really needed me.


I won't mention how work went.  Needless to say it was a long, bad day.  It's awful when you want to be somewhere else every. single. second.  When you are helpless to help your child.  And when you work in a place where you don't have alot of support it's just worse.  Thank goodness my best friend was already scheduled to bring her children in for a check-up that morning.  Just seeing her helped me stay the course.  Her concern for Tate and for me kept me going throughout the day.  And I must say the support I received from my family and friends via FB...some whom I've known forever and some I've never met (other wonderful SMCs)...was unbelievable.  So grateful for them all.  They all had prayers up for us.


I got Tate an appointment with our regular pediatrician that morning at 11am.  My parents took him after a long morning of tantrums and tears.   The final diagnosis was Roseola.  Finally, an answer.  Palliative treatment is all that's available.  He had a slightly better afternoon after he napped for an hour and a half. By the time I was able to race home he was feeling better and eating cheerios.  Still not drinking alot, but getting some nourishment, albeit carbs :).


Last night was a better night.  He went down at 730pm due to his late nap after the doctor's visit and woke about 10pm refusing to lay back down in his crib, so into my bed he went.  I joined him soon after, and he slept until 327am.  I replaced loveys and pacifiers, and he didn't awaken me again until 608am.  Now I don't know when he actually woke up, but blessedly he let me snooze a bit longer.


He stayed with my mom again today;  my dad joined them later in the morning.  The rash has lessened considerably, and we've only had one meltdown today apparently.  My mom did say he did fall out a couple of times on the brink of a fit, looked around and decided better of it, so we're making progress.  He was in great spirits when I got home, and we played and laughed and had a really nice evening.


My mom is staying one more day, and again my dad will come over tomorrow.  He'll actually have little Tate to himself in the morning, so my mom can go to a doctor's appointment.  These two love this child of mine, and the sacrifices they make to help me take care of him are boundless.  I am so very lucky as is Tate to have them in our lives.  I love them both more than they know.


So tonight, I'm beyond relieved.  I don't think it's hit me yet how very exhausted and stressed out I am.  Though I've had amazing help this past week I have borne the emotional trauma alone.  That's one of the hardest things about being an SMC at least for me.  My mother is fabulous and so great with Tate, but I know she was really almost beside herself with worry about him.  If I had let on to her how I upset I was, well it just wouldn't have been the best choice.  I have spoken to Christian, who is in Berlin still, and kept him up to date, and I think he knows how worried and upset I've been, but he's in Berlin.  And sometimes the language can be a barrier with English not being his first language.  I don't think he realized until Tuesday afternoon how serious things could have been and actually how poorly Tate was feeling.  


But tonight I'm grateful and thankful.  We have been held up by our village of love.  Tate is on the mend.  My heart will mend.  We are all going to be just fine.  Family, friends and God...we don't need anything else.


The power of prayer.

Sleeping the sleep of the exhausted!

My Friday

 As I sit here thinking 'I need to get my bum in bed' I'm too tired and stressed to get up and brush my teeth and head upstairs.  Ever have those moments?  When you're too tired to be tired?  It takes so much effort to fall into bed that you can't even consider it?  So, here I am talking about it!


Poor little Tate has been off all week.  He's definitely teething as he's constantly asking me to put my fingers in his mouth.  When I do massage his gums, he's immediately happier!  And I don't feel any of those teeth making a break for the surface anytime soon, so I'm wondering how the next few months will go.


When I picked him up from daycare yesterday evening, one of the teachers told me he had been a little whiny in the afternoon, and earlier that day his main teacher had told me he had refused most of his lunch and had been clingier all week long.  We made it home, and he picked at his dinner.  When I went to take him out of his highchair he felt like he was on fire.  Poor little guy had a fever of 101.2.  Into a cool bath he went after being dosed with some ibuprofen.  He was fast asleep in a matter of minutes after his bath...no books, a sure sign he felt awful.  He did sleep pretty well though he awoke at 327am and seemed to think it was time to get the day started.    He was quickly disavowed of that notion and slept until 530am at which time he was whining at me.  I walked over to the crib with the intention of putting him in bed with me.  As I got to him he pronounced 'POOP!'  I was shocked and asked him if he had pooped.  He looked at me like I was a moron and said 'Yes! Poop!'  This is HUGE for Baby Tate.  He laid right down and had me change him...no fussing at all.  Not one movement.  (it was a good sized poop...I would have wanted it off too!). Might this be a sign of things to come in the diaper area?  I even got another 70 minute of sleep out of him.  


Yet, when we woke a little before 7am he was burning up again...101.6 this time.  So swim lessons were scratched.  He got to have a pajama day!!  My mom was generous enough and came over to watch him so I could go get my hair relaxed...anyone who's black and has relaxed hair knows how hard those appointments are to come by in a busy salon.  Rescheduling just doesn't happen for the next day or week.  So I left my little guy in the awesome hands of his grandmommy.


I'm thinking as I tool along to the post office to mail a quick package that this won't be so bad.  Though it's steaming hot outside, I'm on call and I'm worried about Tate, I anticipate being home pretty quickly.  Well, best laid plans.  


Please praytell what is wrong with the United States Postal Service?  Seriously.   I have never seen people less happy to be working.  And goodness knows I'm not happy that I have to work, but that's not my patients' fault.  So put on a smile and get with the program.  Your job affords you to eat, drink and sleep.  And that's the nice clean way of saying my feelings on the subject.  Suffice it to say I left the first post office package still in hand and drove out of my way to another.  Finally mailed my package and raced to my hair appointment.  Hairs relaxed, but my stylist forgot to put a towel or plastic cover on me, so my shirt was soaked after the wash!  I mean soaked.  Now this is great when you're outside in the 107 degree heat, but in there with their A/C set on 52 degrees...not so much.  She had time to dry my hair, so I gratefully had her do that not remembering that it was going to cost A FORTUNE!!!  Sigh.  As I sit there, my mom calls to tell me Tate only napped an hour, ate little to no lunch and now was awake crying and really hot.   It took me 8 minutes to help her navigate through the house to find the appropriate medicine dropper for some more Ibuprofen.  


As I'm talking to her I get another call.  This is from my assistant on call with me.  Yup!  Some kid had broken a tooth and was leaving on Sunday for a week for some camp yada yada yada.  His mom wanted something done today, so he wouldn't be in pain.  Sigh.  Ugh.  I have no assistant on call with me at this office, so treatment is 10 times more difficult when needed.  In emergent situations the kids are either in such shock they can't help but cooperate, scared silly and behave like banshees or their parents are so damn nervous they can't shut up and let me do my job such as it is in a compromised situation with no help.  


Thankfully, this kid had the nervous mom and annoying little friend :) with him.  And the mom was actually quite cool and extremely appreciative of my coming in.  Got the little boy all fixed up and he will be off to camp on Sunday.  I finally make my way back home to my sweet boy and along the way my car swerves to the right and the tire pressure light comes on!  Yep!  FLAT TIRE!


A flat tire.  In Houston.  In 107 degree weather.  And no I can't change a tire especially on this car of mine.  It's an Infiniti and it has this special tire lock thingie-ma-bob.  I call the Infiniti Roadside Assistance who have me on the phone for 10 minutes and 18 seconds before informing me that my contract expired on May 26 of this year, as my cell phone battery is dwindling.  I practically shove my credit card information through the phone to the woman and beg her to get me some help quickly.  Amazingly enough the tow truck/assistance guy arrived within 14 minutes of my hanging up with the customer service lady.   He got me fixed up and now I'm driving on my lovely spare which makes this car behave like a bicycle missing 10 spokes.  Now I have to drive down the freeway tomorrow, WITH TATE, in this car to get the tire fixed.  Mind you these are not cheap tires, and on the G35 you can't rotate the tires because gee, the front and back tires are different sizes.  Yeah, I wasn't told this when I bought the car, and I'm pretty sure even if I had been told they were different sizes that I wouldn't have known the consequences.  The salesman did tell me they would be expensive to replace.  And yes I still bought the car!!  (I do love the way it handles and drives)


Finally, I made it home.  Grandmommy and Tate were happily playing and Vincent was in his usual spot on the couch.  Grandmommy left to navigate Houston traffic to go home at 4pm.  Tate and I played, he picked at his dinner and only ate applesauce and a few yogurt melts.  Oh and did I mention we had to miss our swimming lesson for this morning?  And we won't be going to our Gymboree class in the morning as his fever was over 102 this evening at bedtime.  AND we can't go to the little birthday party he was invited to tomorrow afternoon.  Sigh.


So, yes fever was 102 as I put him down tonight.  He was asleep by 640pm.  He woke up around 830pm and was still hot, and I had given him some ibuprofen when I put him down.  Now I'm getting worried.  He has no other symptoms...no congestion, no cough, he's not pulling on his ears.  I don't think it's just teething as I don't think fevers get this high with teething.  He is definitely miserable when the fever is returning, and he's exhausted.  I'm truly praying that it will run its course over the next 24 hours. We are off to my parents' tomorrow and will drop my car off to see about the tire and will spend the night with them to be there for Father's Day.


So, tonight I'm almost scared to go upstairs and go to sleep.  I tend to not be a worrier when he's sick, but he's never remained febrile for over 24 hours only to be relieved with analgesics, so that bothers me.  And now my mind is racing...what if his fever gets so high he has a seizure in the middle of the night and I'm asleep. I know febrile seizures are common and usually not life-threatening, but still I would want to be awake if it happened.  What if the fever continues to spike and he doesn't wake up.   What if he's miserable and I'm scared?  This is when I wish I had a partner the most...these nights that loom before me.  I think to myself...it's 1033pm...it's only 7 more hours before there is daylight.  You CAN do this.  


So I'm off to brush and floss...that'll take at least 4 minutes.  Close up my bottle of wine...another 1 minute.  Put the dishes in the dishwasher and throw away the dinner trash...3-4 minutes.  Pet Vinnie..10 seconds.  Brush hair, take off contacts...4 minutes.  Check on Tate, feel his little body to see if he's warm, press a kiss to his cheek and climb into bed...3 minutes.

Before I know it dawn will be here and Tate will standing up screeching 'POOP!'  I can't wait!  

Being silly, even though he doesn't feel good

He's learned how to say cheese for the camera
but doesn't quite understand that he should
smile after he does so!!

Sunday Night

Tate hasn't slept terribly well since we returned from NYC.  I expected the first few nights to be rough as we bed-shared while on vacation and even during naps I would place him on our bed with a few strategically placed pillows!  Amazingly, we got some great sleep while there (though we were a tad warm).  He got back in his groove about 4 days after being home and started STTN and napping well.  Actually sleeping longer both at nighttime and naptime.

Then BAM!  The past week he has been waking up at night.  He still naps great at home and at daycare, but nighttime is fraught with wake-ups and crying out anywhere between 2-4am.  And since we share a room, I'm apt to just hop up replace the pacifier if need be sooner than if we were in separate rooms as I want to get back to sleep ASAP.  The past 3 nights I've just brought him into bed with me which made him a very happy camper.  And the night before last I just took him out of his crib when I got in bed in hopes he wouldn't fuss in the middle of the night.  He didn't.


On top of it I wake up randomly when I used to sleep like the dead.  Tate usually isn't making a sound except for his sweet breathing, but I wake up, look around and then berate myself for waking up.  Which of course then keeps me awake longer!


But I love sleeping with my sweet babe curled up beside me.  There's nothing like that beatific grin in the mornings as he waits for me to roll over and give him a hug.  I love hearing Momma!!  Then he asks for Scout, his favorite game on my iPhone!  :)


So as I ponder how long he will sleep tonight, I am in awe of my wee one.  And I wonder if deep sleep evades him as he is making amazingly huge strides in his vocabulary these days.  I can't believe I ever wondered when he would talk.  The sentences, the phrases, the slang...it all keeps me on my toes.  I've long stopped keeping a list of all that he says.  And his comprehension!  He knows some colors, his numbers to 10 and when to use words in the right context.  Wow.  


And as he has matured intellectually, he has become more of a cuddle bug, more attuned to where I am and what I'm doing.  About a month ago, he toppled over or tripped and came running to me to hold him.  I gave him kisses, hugs and loves, and he then stepped back and went back to doing what he was doing.  That was new.  Prior to that, if he hurt himself and I was around, I had to go to him to offer comfort, sometimes accepted, sometimes declined.  Now the slightest infraction has him running for Momma!  And though I wish nothing would ever hurt him, I love being the one person who can soothe his aches and pains.  Speaking of pains, he now knows what a boo-boo is, and is sure to point out each and every new one to me for kisses.  He must learned that at daycare.  He plays those boo-boos to the hilt!  We get lots of kisses and hugs on those boo-boos.  Again so very sweet.


So, we're growing up here. We started swim lessons a week ago this past Friday, so he's had 2 lessons.  He absolutely loves the water, so I knew we had to get this going as soon as I could.  We're in a 12 week session which I definitely intend to continue past the summer.  He's doing great.  I do wish I had started him last year, but this is where we are now.  I can't change what I didn't do, so we'll go from here.  I go in the water with him until he is 3.  We are going to Saint Street Swim, and the instructors are just fabulous.  We had a great weekend this weekend and last.  We moved up to the next level at Gymboree, so now he's in Level 5 and is among the youngest.  In the previous class which was ages 16-22 he was one of the oldest, and I felt like he was just too mobile.  Since he was such an early walker (at 10 months), he was all over the place, and some of the little ones were a bit intimidated.  I like him being the youngest in the new group (ages 22-28 months).  He has a great time running around, and his favorite parts are the bubbles and the slides with the lambskins!  


We spent the remaining part of this weekend in pools with friends!  My little fish just gravitates to the water.  I couldn't get his swimsuit on fast enough.  Though it's 100 degrees or more here he just goes and goes.  Everyone helps me with him as I'm the only un-partnered parent.  They hold him, goof off with him and get him in the water when I'm off getting sunscreen, towels or my glass of wine!  What an amazing life we have.


So tonight I enjoy a glass of red wine, listening to my tiVo of the last episode of Oprah as I type this.  I have a list of things to do, but I want to savor these memories of my son.  His smile, his laugh, his tears, his frustration, his joy, HIM.  As his body processes all that is happening to it these past few weeks, I know we may be in for some rough nights.  So I may be up again tonight.  But that's ok.  On those nights when I get out of bed to go reassure him or bring him into my bed, I raise my head and heart up and think there are millions of mothers around this wonderful planet doing this very same thing....loving their children, be they bringing glasses of water, leading the newly potty trained to the bathroom, chasing away a monster, nursing a newborn, finding a lost lovey behind the bed or just going to check on a child because she's a mother.  And then I  don't feel as tired or frustrated.  I just feel blessed.  What an amazing gift.  Mothering.

Ready to go down the slide!

LOVING the bubbles!!!

Hanging at Nikki and Rucker's pool!

Such joy!

Memorial Day in The Big Apple - 2011 (Day 2)

Well after what was actually a relatively restful night of sleep (with a tossing and turning toddler) we were up by 6am.  Actually, Tate was wiggling around by 5:30, but I refused to move before 6am.  We took our time getting ready, feeding him his pedialyte and bland breakfast of yogurt and cheerios (to continue to appease his tummy), and my mother and I took turns trying to entertain a toddler in a small hotel room.  I ventured down to my conference while my mother and Tate ventured out into the street of Manhattan to enjoy the sites.  I love the feel of New York City..the hustle and bustle, street vendors on every corner, the diversity of those rushing by on cell phones, pushing strollers, hailing cabs, smoking cigarettes, drinking a latte on the go and the traffic of cars, buses and trucks lumbering by. You can just feel life pulsing!  Tate seemed in awe of it as well...every other word was car! bus! big big truck!!

I met the two of them back in the hotel room around lunchtime.  After grabbing some Chipotle for the two of us, we fed him and put him down for a nap (in my bed!)  I actually napped the entire time with him.  I was actually exhausted...the stress of the long trip, the losing an hour of sleep and just being in a new place had taken a toll on me as well.  My mom who swears she hates to nap read her book in the dim light of our cold room.

WOW!!

That afternoon we made our way to FAO Schwarz!!  After taking his picture with the FAO Schwarz soldier outside we made our way inside and Tate was mesmerized.  He just looked up and around and all about him and said 'WOW!' 'WOW!'  We walked through while he looked and touched anything and everything with reverence.  We made our way to FAO Schweetz - yum!  Just a little candy area within the store.  As my mom and I picked out our favorite treats of our childhoods, we ran into three young Navy soldiers.   I asked Tate to go over to them and say 'thank you'.  He did which made my heart melt.  As I watched these young men, boys really, I realized that most likely less than 16-18 years ago they were Tate's age and their mothers were watching them in a toy store in awe of them.  My wish for them as well as for my Tate is a safe life full of hope, joy and love.  May they be safe from harm as they continue on their journey in the military and into manhood.

Thank you from a grateful American!

    Then our big adventure continued!!  We were off in search of the BIG piano!  Yep!  The one from the Tom Hanks movie 'Big.'  We found it on the 2nd floor and let Tate have a go at it!!  He LOVED it!!  He squealed with joy!!  It took him a minute to figure out he was making music with his feet, but once he did he was in heaven.  We ended up staying for quite some time!

Loving the rides!!!

Once back in the NYC heat we moseyed down to Central Park in search of a playground for Tate.  What we found instead was a small children's amusement park in Central Park!  It was Victorian Gardens at Wollman Rink (which I suppose in winter might be an ice skating rink?!).  They had what looked to be several rides with hardly any people riding them!!  I decided Tate and I just had to go!!  My mom waited outside the park and enjoyed some shade and people watching.  Turns out the amusement park had just opened that day and would remain open through Labor Day!  We were soooo lucky!  There were maybe 5 other families in the park.  More than half of the rides were toddler appropriate.  Tate and I had an absolute blast!  We were even able to ride any rides we wanted multiple times, so if Tate didn't want to get off we just stayed on and went again!   As we circled around in the 'Samba Balloon' ride and I held onto Tate while he laughed and laughed I realized that this is how I envisioned motherhood...me holding on tight to my wee one while he enjoyed life and all it's offerings.  Watching him enjoy this little cheesy amusement park through his lit-up eyes brought tears to my eyes.  This is what everyone talks about when you experience life through the eyes of a child.  What a blessing to be able to witness life through the wondrous eyes of MY child.

Grandmommy waves at us!!

After all the rides and heat we could take, we met up with Grandmommy and meandered back to the hotel.  As we walked by the horse drawn carriages lining Central Park West Tate was constantly pointing and saying 'neigh neighs.'  Wish we could have had time for a ride, but there's always next time.






Once back at the hotel, we ordered room service for my mom and Tate.  They ate while I got showered and dressed.  I was off to meet my old college friend, Silke.  We reconnected via Facebook about 3 years ago.  I noticed about 8 weeks into my pregnancy on her page that she was pregnant as well and didn't seem to have a partner in any pictures or posts.  I cautiously asked her if she was having a baby as a single mother by choice like me.  And she was!!!  :)  I was so excited.  We were merely acquaintances in college, but since in the past 3 years we have become good friends.  We've shared pregnancies, newborns, infants and toddlers as well as her dipping her foot in the dating world, working single motherhood, and just life as women raising children trying to find their way.  It has been such a blessing.  Her little girl, Annabelle, is 3 months older than Tate.

Hot mamas out on the town!

So, Friday night we opted for a girls' night out in the city.  We met at a lovely French restaurant called Nice Matin.  The food was fantastic, the wine sublime and the conversation great.  And at 9:45pm after the bill had been paid, we looked at each other and decided to call it a night!  We had previously talked about going out to a bar or two to hang out and ok, possibly see a cute soldier or two.  But two single mommas over the age of 40 quickly realized that (a) said soldiers would most likely be half our age  (b) said soldiers would most likely not be able to afford the bars we would choose to patron and (c) we were TIRED!!  LOL.  Cabs were hailed, and we were off to find our pillows with plans to meet Saturday morning with the kids!!

I returned to the hotel to a sweet babe in my bed again and a sweet grandmommy sound asleep as well.  I could not be more blessed.

Memorial Day in the Big Apple - 2011 (Day 1)

What a whirlwind!!  Tate, my mother and I flew off to New York City on Thursday, May, 26!!!  I was born in Queens, and my mom spent her early 20s there and attended college in the city.  Her brother and 2 sisters have lived there for the past 20-25 years.  So, it is always a bit like going back home for her.

Just after security in Houston!

Off to the airport we were Thursday morning.  My dad dropped us off, and we were on our way.  Our flight was uneventful, and Tate did a great job.  He sat in his carseat, ate some snacks and slept for a little over an hour.  Until...we began our initial descent into Newark.  Then all hell broke loose.  Tate started throwing up.  Poor baby.  The lady directly in front of him was a flight attendant, and thankfully she took charge of the situation as well as knowing it was about to happen.  As soon as he started fussing she turned around to ask me if he was teething.  No sooner were the words out of her mouth as I was trying to respond, he vomited.  She said she could tell something was up as his cry changed.  (I was completely oblivious!)  He quickly vomited a second time as I was desperately trying to clean up from the first time as well as get my very upset baby out of his carseat.  My mom was rooting around in the baby bag for wipes and his extra clothes.  While I was in the teeny tiny airport bathroom changing Tate and washing him down, the wonderful flight attendant (not on duty mind you!) cleaned everything up for me and my mother.  She got the seat wiped down, commandeered a blanket to be placed on the seat as well as getting a bag of coffee grounds to place on the seat under the blanket.  Apparently coffee grounds will remove the smell of vomit from upholstery!!!  We made our way back to our seats and got ready for landing.  And I was well aware we would have a final descent.  I worried more vomit would ensue.  And yep!  It happened!  Poor Baby Tate.  2 more times :(.  Some mention was made that just a minute amount of congestion can cause vertigo or teething in these little ones.  Whatever the cause Tate's little tummy was not in its happy place.  Once off the plane he was fine.  We met our driver and we were off to Manhattan!!!


We got checked into our room at the Hilton on the Avenue of the Americas.  We unpacked a few items and decided to walk around the city a bit as our room was a bit too warm for our Southern blood. (called down to the front desk to inquire about how our a/c unit looked at..ok, so I called and complained)  We walked around the neighborhood, bought some Pedialyte for little Tate's tummy.  He was a trooper and never complained.  He was just in awe of all the 'big trucks' and all the 'big cars' zooming about on the streets!  Once back at the hotel we had to change rooms as the a/c was actually broken...real fun with the amount of stuff we had with us!!  Got settled in our new room, food delivered, diapers delivered, crib and refrigerator delivered and we were set.  I bathed Tate and Grandmommy started reading him bedtime stories. 

Walking through Central Park...still not feeling 100%!

Central Park

Fleet Week 2011!!!!  Woohoo!!!

Hanging out with Jorge a bit before heading off to bed!

My friend Jorge who lives in NYC came by to see Tate and my mother.  Jorge and I met a few years ago through a mutual friend.  We probably saw each other a total of 4 times while he was visiting my friend David for those couple of weeks and he even came to my parents' surprise 40th wedding anniversary party that I threw and helped serve drinks etc!!  Such a great great guy!!! When we came up last year to the city I let him know we were coming and he met Tate and I out at Central Park for some playtime.  I was sure to let him know I was coming this year, and though we are really just acquaintances he always makes time to see me!!  He came in and loved on Tate a bit and reconnected with my mom, then he and I ventured out on a quick stroll for a drink at Rockefeller Center.  We had a small bite to eat and hung out and enjoyed the ambiance of the myriad of people crowding the bar.  It was what I always imagined NYC to be after one gets off work and meets friends for drinks.  Lots of laughter amongst friends and business associates, flirting, drinking, crowded, a little warm, people elbow to elbow; simple big city life.  Simply put...it was nice.  The weather was perfect, the setting was perfect and the conversation was perfect.  We didn't stay too terribly long as I was exhausted after the long flight, so Jorge walked me back to the hotel.  We hugged and said good-bye and he was off to meet friends and I was off to see my little boy and give my mom the sandwich I had picked up for her.  Upstairs, Tate was fast asleep on my bed (the crib apparently wasn't welcoming enough for him), my mom was resting and all was good.  She enjoyed her sandwich, I got ready for bed, cuddled up with my precious babe and our first night in NYC was over.

Good wine, good company, good food=a great time at Rockefeller Center with Jorge!

My sweet, sweet boy sound asleep in the Big Apple!!  Just waiting for some cuddles from his mommy!

22 Months Today!!

My sweet boy turned 22 months old today!!  Unbelievable!!  Such unabashed joy is needed amidst all the tragedy happening in this country of ours!!


We pray tonight for the men, women, children, and animals in Joplin, Missouri which was ravaged by a devastating tornado last night.  The floods of Mississippi and Tennessee are still fresh on our minds.  In the midst of that the tornado that ravaged Tuscaloosa earlier this month.  I cannot imagine the desperation, feelings of hopelessness, fear and utter disbelief our fellow Americans are feeling.  Actually, I can imagine, as I experienced Hurricane Ike in September 2008.  I remember feeling like a refugee in my own country as we stood in line for the grocery store to get our ration of ice.  That was a small moment in my history, and I'm so grateful my family and friends all survived though some suffered horrendous damage.  So I pray for strength and courage in the weeks to come for our fellow Americans who are suffering so.  And for those who met their untimely deaths I pray for their loved ones left behind and for the departed as they begin their new journey.


So, in a place of thankfulness, I'm so thankful to have Tate in my life.  I'm thankful that he's healthy, happy and thriving.  He continues to amaze me every single day.  The amount of words he knows and can use in the proper context keep me on my toes.  From 'a bird!' to 'oh shoot' (which I HAVE to figure out how to get him to stop saying!!!) he's a little dictionary.  He's added chip, chocolate (his version of it), Roland, Ava, story, thank you, bird, delicious, tractor, chicken, goose, moose, bear, hare, (thanks Sandra Boynton books!) and more than I can keep track of now.  


And most importantly, he can count to 10.  With my prodding, but he can do it and very clearly!!!  


We're signed up for swim classes that start on June 3rd.  I'm not all that thrilled that I have to get in the pool with him...I have to wear a bathing suit...UGH!  But oh well...doesn't the water make one feel lighter?  Woohoo!!


So, tonight I will go upstairs, press a kiss on my sweet boy's head and remember all the gentle wonder of his world and say a short prayer of thanks and gratitude and one for God's grace for all of those suffering.

Eating some chocolate chips to celebrate 22 months!!

Dancing King!!!

My sweet sweet boy doing a happy dance!!