sick and tired of sick and tired.

This sick day  week has been rough.

So, from now on, you may refer to me by my super hero moniker,

The Germinator.

I am scary and snotty

and I wield rubbing alcohol, a nasal aspirator and sparkly bracelets.

Virus,

you’re going down, kiddo.

super sweet six month old sick day

Half Birthdays are BIG in our family.

But, you already know that.

And, I bet you can guess that no half birthday is bigger than the half birthday;

the one where the baby turns 1/2 year old.

And, um, excuse me,

but where did those 6 months go?

I guess I will have to search for them where I did for the 5 months, before.

Six.Months.Old.

Half.A.Year.

Too.Freakin.Fast.

Unfortunately, our Super Sweet Six Month Old Bash will have to be postponed.

You see, if yesterday baby wasn’t feeling so hot,

(which she wasn’t),

then today, I’m freezing cold.

And I mean that literally and figuratively.

Actually, I’m pretty sick as a dog.

Which, by the way, is a terrible expression. I don’t want my dogs to be sick. Who does? My dogs are so virile and spunky. And I don’t have the time to take care of sick dogs. I have a baby to worry about.

I attribute that awful saying to the same person who coined “sleep like a baby”. I mean, come on. Who are these babies who sleep soundly without making a peep? Yes, my daughter sleeps about 15 hours a day, but that is not without some hard work on the part of her parents. I submit that we change “sleep like a baby” to “sleep like 2 adults before they became parents”. What do you think? Are you with me?

And where in the world was I going with this?

Blame it on the lack of sleep. Last night I did not, in fact, sleep like a baby,

or a dog,

or even a sick dog,

because that would have required some sleeping,

which I did not.

Anyhoo,

our big half birthday party is going to be postponed,

but that’s OK,

seeing as that I have some major tricks,

and maybe even a few treats,

up my sleeve for that one.

Plans that may, or may not, involve some Disney Princess.

But, you’ll just have to wait and see.

I’d wink at you,

but my head hurts too much.

Which means, I should now sign off, and curl on my dog bed,

or,

I mean,

crib,

or whatever it is that is supposed to help me to sleep while the baby is blissfully at Bubbie’s house.

I’m so glad that while I’m out of commission,

baby girl has the World’s 2nd MESODP to celebrate with.

Oh?

What’s that you ask?

What is a MESODP?

Why, Most Enthusiastic Supporter of Disney Princesses, of course.

I’m sure they’re trying on ballgowns or singing “Be Our Guest” as we speak.

Happy, Happy, Happy 1/2 Birthday to my favorite Princess. You are more precious to me than you will ever, ever know, sweet dear. Mommy loves you. Mommy will always love you.

Today,

tomorrow,

and ever after.

Stay Tuned and Get Pumped! (is what I was going to say.)

Patience, my dear ones. For I am off to a happy place, where I will be celebrating my 8th Engagemaversary in that very same spot.

…is what I had written, yesterday,

prepared to publish today,

as I would now be off to St. John, via St. Thomas, with my entire family; Parents, siblings, kids…

It’s funny. Just last week, Jordan said, “The way to virtually guarantee that a child will get sick is to schedule something that you really want to do.”

And it has been no secret that we have been sickie little chickies in my house for the past month.

But weeks of sick days and doctor visits all kind of came to a head yesterday when I crashed, unexpectedly, at 3pm, woke up two hours later in excruciating ear pain. I have been suffering from TMJ on my right side, but this pain was on my left. And I couldn’t hear out of my ear. Weird.

So, I shook the sleep out of my head and rallied to give the baby his nighttime bottle, give my daughter her kiss goodnight, and I told my husband that something wasn’t right. All of the local urgent care facilities were closed and all my doctor besties were stuck without otoscopes (I just wanted to see if I was crazy), so we found a Care Stat location a little ways away and I got checked out.

I told the doctor about my TMJ. “First let me look at your right ear, or your ‘good ear’,” she said.

“Yup, this ear is infected.”

Then she moved onto my left.

And all she said was, “Whoa.”

That’s never what you want to hear from a doctor.

So I have a double ear infection, but on my left side it is pretty severe, and I am prohibited from flying for a week. Which means that we had to cancel our trip to our happy place.

It’s ok. I was most disappointed for my daughter and parents, but we have made alternate arrangements so that my kids will be taken away on a fun family trip, just the four of us, that involves driving, and no change in elevation that will perforate my eardrum.

I walked out of the urgent care office, into the Krispie Kreme two doors down, and ate a hot glazed doughnut right off of the conveyer belt. Because, really, what else was there to do?

So, I will continue where I had left off yesterday before this all went down (when I thought I would be leaving you for St. John):

Please don’t think I would leave you hanging. Oh no.

Because we have some big changes on the not so distant horizon; my home for the past 4.5 years,

http://www.mommyeverafter.wordpress.com,

just got quite the makeover. We are moving on up people.

Very soon, this blog will be located at…

http://www.mommyeverafter.com

You can visit the site to countdown to our big launch on December 22. There will be ads! There will be new categories! There will be a feathers! This is forrealz.

And I realize that my audience here is mixed; some of you have been here from the beginning, while others are newer to the land of mom. So I am leaving you with some old favorites. And the fun thing is, they lead you to other old posts. You have almost 900 of ’em to wade through as I wade through the ocean. (Editor’s note: I don’t even have to say it. Frowny face.)

Let me take this opportunity to say thank you.

This past year (and I am getting choked up) has been the hardest in my life; I am so grateful for the support I have received from YOU. You have empowered me to tell me story and motivated me to help others. Thank you. I would not be here without you.

So here you go. I’ll be popping in here and there over the next week, but to tide you over:

Something motivational

Something sweet

Something musical

Something nostalgic

Something comprehensive

Some Important Insight

The craziest call to the pediatrican ever. (Really, ever.)

The second craziest call to the pediatrican,, ever. And it’s a close second.

Something Happy.

Something Hard.

Something Hopeful.

See you on the flip side at http://www.mommyeverafter.com,

the home of everything ever after.

Some real perspective.

Hello! Broadcasting live from yet ANOTHER sick day at our house, with both kids home, coughing and sneezing.

Some folks might get frustrated that their plans (large and small) have to change for another day, so that they may look after their snotty offspring.

But oh no.

Not here.

I feel lucky to be here, still in my pajamas pants after noon, attempting to get my son to watch something other than The Real Housewives for five minutes so that I can put my hair in a ponytail.

Because, you see, had I not been here I would have missed my son,

walking, on his own (!!!)

to the toilet, and put my dental floss in the water. And then licking it.

And I would have missed him stealing my phone, sliding down the stairs at warp speed, only to do some redecorating of my console table.

And, it certainly would have been an utter tragedy to have missed my son trying to ride Lola.

So what I am saying, is that I am truly blessed with my sick day in…

but I am out of dental floss.

Have to run…It’s snuggle time.

There is this feeling inside of me and these thoughts that have been formulating in my head for a few weeks now; I have been trying to find the words. I talk so much on here about my son and my family and my struggles, but I have have been wanting to write about the gratitude–the immense gratefulness–that I feel for my daughter.

This is not a revelation; I started this site four and a half years ago to express such feelings, but lately I have just watched her in awe. Like last night, at Thanksgiving, when she got up in front of the room of 30 people, in a poofy striped skirt and Doc Martins, and sang 3 songs from Frozen like it wasn’t no thang.

I wrote in June about trying to be present in my precious time with my girl, and, more recently, about wanting to LIVE.

So every night at bedtime, I savor the one more minute that she begs for, because she is growing up and growing into herself, and there will be a time, someday, when I will be the one begging her for “just one more hug.”

Bedtime last week, she said, “You’re pretty mom. You look pretty when you’re sick. You’re pretty when you don’t feel well. You look pretty when you’re hurt. You look pretty when it’s your birthday. You just always look pretty.”

And my daughter is astute; I think that this was her way of saying “Mom, I know you’ve been a hot mess this past year, but I still think of you as my beautiful mother; I cherish you.”

And then there was two nights ago. Earlier in the day, as we were getting ready, I called her over to me and said, “Do you remember how I told you that you are my dream come true? Well, you’re better than anything I could have ever imagined in my dreams.”

“Awwwwww,” she said. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.” She is a trip.

So at bedtime that night she said, “Mom, you are lucky to have me. But I am lucky to have you. And i love you so so so so much in my whole wide heart. And you are the best mom I’ve ever had. And when I was dreaming of having a mom, when I wished for you, I was a tiny baby and said ‘Wah Wah Wah, I want Rebecca Starr, Wah Wah Wah’ and you know what? I am so lucky because I got you and you are better than my dreams.”

It was her way of reciprocating. It was adorable. And it was more.

She and I don’t get a ton of solo time together anymore; Because I am staying at home with my son for the time being, he’s always kind of around (and he makes his presence known), so today I took my daughter out for a girl’s date.

First I let her pick out any necklace of mine to wear.

She went for ultra glam.

Can’t say I blame her, frankly.

Then we went to the nail salon and got manicures, side by side. This is a rare and special treat for us, and she must have looked over at me 20 times and smiled, a beaming, knowing smile.

And when we got into my car, instead of just heading home (as I had done 100% of the time we did any type of errand in the past year), I looked back at her and asked if she wanted to go out for ice cream.

We headed to a quaint ice cream shop and enjoyed rainbow cones and a really sweet conversation about all of the town’s landmarks. It was so cold outside, but it didn’t matter. It’s never too cold for rainbow ice cream.

It was delicious. Every moment was delicious.

When I am in the thick of things, and feel as though I am unraveling, or feel frustrated at my lack of progress in the past year, it is hard to see how far I have come. My friends and family tell me. My friend even called me on the day I had both kids home sick with me to say “What you are doing is hard for ANYONE. Look at what you are doing. You never could have done this at this time last year.”

And I had to admit, she was right.

But I have this incredible family, and the heart and soul of it is my beautiful, kind, spunky, vivacious, sensitive, sparkly daughter. And she is worth living for.

So from now on, my goal is to try to always make that extra stop. To turn an errand into a memory.

Because I have gotten a second chance,

and I have gotten a dream daughter.

And, I couldn’t make this up if I tried, she just came into the room where I am typing and said, “Mom, can I just snuggle with you for a little?” and so I am going to put the computer down, put my arms around her

and live.

Baby it’s Cold Outside.

This past week has been a blur of sick days.
Today is another one (more on that, later.)

I am endlessly grateful that it has just been some lingering respiratory things and maybe a touch of the stomach flu,

as it is almost the one year anniversary of our week in the hospital with a sick 2 month old with RSV. That was also the worst time in my entire life.

So while this week has been less than desirable, I can’t even call it bad.

There were playdates that had to be cancelled and there was food that couldn’t be eaten and I was up a lot of the past two nights listening to my daughter cough and cough.

But her spirits have been great, and I savored the days of cuddling.

I spent the entirety of Sunday in my pajamas. We played with baby dolls and a doctor’s kit and magnatiles and her hair and I even got her to sit with me for five minutes of this past week’s Grey’s Anatomy that I still have not been able to catch up on. (Don’t judge!)

But the highlight of the weekend was most definitely the music. We used the XBox 1 app that is attached to our big living room TV to play both XBox radio and YouTube videos, and got to go through a great array of music, from spooky to hip hop to holiday.

And then, we stumbled upon the holy grail: Idina Menzel and Michael Buble singing “Baby it’s Cold Outside”, as child actors mouth the words and dance along in a twenties style extravaganza. My daughter was hooked in three seconds.

This was awesome for so many reasons, not the least of which being that I now finally have someone with whom I can sing the duet. She makes me be the boy, but whatever.

We must have watched this adorable music video 15 times over the past two days. We hummed around the house. She even sat in the bathroom as I took a shower so that she could get the benefits from the steam and we practiced the duet from over the glass shower door.

So despite the frigid temps and the horrid cough, we were still able to muster up the strength for an ottoman stage performance, in our pjs, and it was the bright spot in an otherwise dreary week.

Things right now may be slightly less than ideal–and I struggle with keeping my glass half full–but I got to spend a few minutes on a freezing Sunday night in November with my two kids in my arms, dancing to holiday music.

This time last year, that would have been an impossibility.

For this, I am grateful; I am warm.

For the love of music.

This morning, one of my cherished new friends sent this video to me, to help chase some of my sick babies blues away.

She didn’t know that The Beach Boys concert with my family was my favorite concert ever. EVER.

She didn’t know that “God only knows what I’d be without you.” is the phrase that I use to describe how I feel about my husband.

She just knew that it was beautiful and that it featured a feather prominently.

And this brings me to tears; the friendship, the music, all of it.

I hope you enjoy.

“Oui Oui Oui!”

The idealism and sense of control I felt this morning based on some creative imaginative play and happy moods has now devolved into this:

It is 5pm.

I have been placed in a tiara and am being forced to wield a wand.

My hot cocoa just exploded in my microwave. And then I choked on it.

And, my daughter is running around, speaking only in French, “directing a play”, dressed like this

And, the kids want to watch Scooby Doo but I am putting on Vanderpump Rules.

Oh, and my daughter just ran over to me to say, “MOM! The baby just spilled my juice. But don’t worry. It’s not on the settee.”

Bright spot!

#sickday

All aboard.

Today is a sick day. I am home with two sick kiddos and not feeling so hot myself

(except, if you mean temperature hot, which I do, a little).

Throughout the past four and a half years I have written about so many sick days; the time that my baby had her first fever and my husband was traveling across the country; the time when my husband had such severe strep that he was shivering in bed for days; recently, when my kids and I napped together and they woke up holding hands; and the general theme is that sick days are pretty crappy.

First and foremost, sick days are bad because it means that a kid or two is sick. And a sick kid is sad! Two sick kids are even sadder. I never want my kids to feel discomfort or pain, so I feel terrible when they are ill.

And some days sick days are tough, because it means juggling schedules and rescheduling appointments and finding childcare coverage. Today I had to cancel with the jaw chiropracter, just as we are starting to make real progress. So, not ideal.

And then there is the whole “What in the world am I going to do with two kids for twelve hours while they are cooped up indoors, sneezing, coughing and/or vomiting?”

But, the thing is, my kids now figure that part out for themselves. They worked as a team, their team.

As I was cleaning up the breakfast dishes, they built a train.

My daughter was the conductor (of course) and she told me that we were going to visit my sister in “Meyork City”.

I hopped on board.

And for a few minutes it didn’t really matter that her nose was running, and it didn’t really matter that there were some dishes in the sink or crumbs on the table,

I just felt so proud of my kids.

I feel honored when they let me join their team–when I can wear their pinny–and play along.

So we still have 8 hours until bedtime, but so far this sick day isn’t so bad. Not really at all.

FIrst snow. Second chance.

So long had life together been that once
the snow began to fall, it seemed unending;
that, lest the flakes should make her eyelids wince,
I’d shield them with my hand, and they, pretending
not to believe that cherishing of eyes,
would beat against my palm like butterflies.

Joseph Brodsky

It is the first snowfall of the season.

All around me, online and at the store and in the carpool line, I hear people complaining, praying for a winter less snowy than the last.

But, the thing is, I don’t remember the snow last winter.

I had no idea that it was the second snowiest winter on record until my husband made an offhand comment, prompting me to ask him about it. He thought I was kidding. I had no recollection.

Last winter feels like a blur to me;

I have small, unpredictable moments that trigger a deep swell of emotion; Like when I hear “Love is an Open Door” from Frozen. Or when I take a sip of red wine.

Or when I light a fire.

But last winter was the darkest time in my life.

And so this year, it is my goal to embrace everything. To light a fire on a weeknight, just because.

To organize fun holiday activities with my friends like cookie parties and pollyannas.

To not just get through this holiday season, but to embrace all of the joy and warmth that people are meant to embrace during this time.

I want to savor the smell of sage and nutmeg.

I want to drink cocoa every night.

I want to live.

I am so grateful for this second chance to make up for last year, when I spent Thanksgiving alone in a chair in the corner and Christmas week in the hospital with a sick baby.

So, I don’t care what anyone else says…

I say, bring on the snow.

Snapshot of a Day

Tuesday, November 4th.

It is Election Day.

It is my Poppy Don’s 86th birthday.

It is the date when my son was supposed to have his bris, had he not come 4 days before his scheduled C-Section.

But this Tuesday is also an anniversary, and not a good one.
A year ago on the Tuesday of this week I received that first, fateful text from my husband that read, “Are you OK? I am getting a little worried about you. I see the light starting to go out in your eyes.”

And that was the beginning of the worst year of my life; It has been worse than all of my other years combined. And so I was dreading this week, as in some ways I am re-experiencing all of the fear and negative emotions of this day last year, like a victim of PTSD. I have nightmares. A lead weight sits in my chest.

But, it’s funny how life works.

Because it is Election Day, I had both kids home with me today, and because my daughter was a bit under the weather we had no plans. It was nice at times, and hard at others, and sometimes it got to the point where I felt like I was drowning in my anxiety. I thought back to this Tuesday last year. I can remember so many details of the things that were plaguing me then, and thinking about some of the events of that week made me feel physically ill. This is something I have never discussed on here before, but that week I was not only being hurt by the chemicals that began to swirl in scary ways in my mind, but I was being hurt by someone who I once considered a very dear friend. At the time, I did not know I was being manipulated by a master,

all I knew was that I was being made to suffer in agony at my most vulnerable of times. This person abandoned me during my lowest point last winter, despite a promise to “be there forever”, and while at the time it was a crushing blow, I now look at it as my greatest blessing. I don’t have to endure the pain of that poison anymore.

I remember it being 11 o’clock in the morning on this Tuesday of last year, and looking down at my phone and seeing that text from my husband and feeling loved, but also feeling scared, because he was right. My light was dimming. The initial high of having a new baby, a baby who was healthy and cute and who nursed well and whom I loved dearly from the start (and the high from my Dilauded Rx) was fading, as I began my slow descent into the abyss.

There are certain dates I remember about the past year that are very significant to me. I remember my son’s birth, of course, and our magical hospital stay. I remember his Bris, and how my girlfriends piled into bed with me as we ate Cronuts that my sister scored from the coveted NYC bakery. I remember Thanksgiving when I sat in the corner, alone and virtually catatonic. And I remember this week.

So, today started off hard. I confided in some of my friends as we messaged throughout the morning, and unsurprisingly I was met with great encouragement and support. But as the day went on, my daughter got sicker and sicker as she appeared to be coming down with some kind of nasty bug. Mommom came over and when I told her about the significance of today, she said, “But look. Look where you are now. You are great now.” And this is something Mommom does. She says that everything is great, whether it is or not. No matter what the ailment, she says “You’ll be fine.” It is her coping mechanism, learned at an early age, and it is something that is sometimes comforting and sometimes frustrating.

I rolled my eyes at her.

“Really?” I asked, as clearly I am still struggling a great deal. Physically I am still dealing with some major issues and emotionally, each day is a new hill to climb. But she assured me by saying, “Look what you’re doing. You want to get out there. You’re doing things with friends and making new friends and making plans. That is better.”

And I didn’t think much of it. But an hour later, my daughter got even worse. She complained that she was freezing cold, refused my offer of toys and cookies and said she just wanted to sleep (she has not taken a single nap in almost 2 years). So she climbed into my bed with me, as she curled up under the covers on my side, and my son curled up on the other, and the three of us slept. Before drifting off, I got an overwhelming feeling of gratitude. Being in my bed, snuggled up with my two babies felt like such a blessing. And even though it was under less than desirable circumstances, it felt like home.

When the kids woke up nearly two hours later they immediately reached over my lap for one another and held hands. I only had my iPhone to capture the moment, and the room was dark, so the photo is grainy, but my kids grasped each other, anchoring themselves to one another and to me and anchoring me to reality. Things did feel a bit better.

And we all trekked downstairs, and my daughter needed a blanket and orange juice and the episode of Yo Gabba Gabba about the Doctor and my son needed his afternoon bottle and my dog needed to go outside and I needed to have a snack and call the pediatrician and as I juggled these things, both figuratively and actually literally (at one point I was balancing many things in one arm, including my 26 lb son) I thought, “I am doing this. I am taking care of business. I am taking care of two children and a dog and myself and  I know what I am doing.

I’ve got this.”

And then Mommom’s words echoed in my ear.

As much as I feel like I am still in the depths of this thing, this awful thing that happened last year and swallowed me up and spit me out and left me weak and vulnerable and tired,

I am doing it. I am being a mom, and I think I am being a good one. And I realized that my grandmother was right.

So while today started off with a heaviness around it, it has lightened;

even though life circumstances actually got worse throughout the day, my perspective changed.

Like the grainy photograph of my kids holding hands, all of my tools are there,

it just isn’t always easy for me to see them clearly. But life isn’t made of moments captured in perfect lighting with a high resolution camera. It is spontaneous flashes of joy, snapped hastily, but still able to be savored despite their blurriness.

This Fall may be hard for me. It may be difficult me to get through each of the dates that remind me of my roughest times of the last year.

But as long as my kids keep holding hands,

and as long as I keep taking that in,

I think I am going to be OK.