Three Months

My friend Sonya blogs about her son North. Each month she writes a letter telling him how much he’s grown and changed, and the amazing things he’s doing. It’s a wonderful tribute that North will some day looked back on; a true gift to read first hand what his parents were experiencing as he was growing up. I wanted to do this from day one with Lucas, but it was so busy while I was on maternity leave I just didn't get the chance. The free moments I had I decided to spend sleeping, because, in all honesty, with the sleep deprivation we were experiencing, I could barely speak in full sentences, let alone write one.

But, I really wanted to give Lucas this gift, so I’m starting now, just after his three-month birthday. I hope he will enjoy these posts when he’s are older and they shed some light on not only his nutty parents, but the adventure we are experiencing watching him grow.

Dear Lucas,

I’m a bit tired this morning because you were up every hour and half last night. I’m paying the price for telling someone at work what a wonderful sleeper you are.

I know you won’t remember, but you spent your three-month birthday in the hospital. You had some tissue removed that was connecting your belly button and your bladder that didn’t go away after they cut your umbilical cord. You did great. You are such a little trooper putting up with doctors and nurses poking and prodding you for five days. Of course, you turned on the charm and had them eating out of your little hand. Two med students who observed your surgery, but weren’t assigned to your case, came to visit to see how you were doing. You even stopped people in the hallway on one of our walks. You have some pretty powerful cuteness.

The week was hard for Mommy and Daddy. We hated seeing you go off to surgery and the three hours we spent waiting were the longest of our lives. We knew you’d be fine, but nonetheless, we just wanted to see you afterwards and gives you lists of love and cuddles.

I’m glad you won’t remember any of that week. While your recovery went just fine, it was hard for daddy and I to hear the stories of the children on your floor. Your roommate, Mackenzie, was a 14-year old who had a stroke. Clementine, your second roommate was diagnosed with muscular dystrophy. A women sitting in the waiting room while you were in surgery had a child who was having a stage 1 tumor removed. Another little girl on your floor had open heart surgery. You are too little to remember these children, but we will. Their stories will stay with us for a lifetime. For they are each a reminder of how grateful we are that you are a healthy, vibrant baby. We have been praying for these kids and hope they get to resume full, active lives very soon.

You are becoming a very chatty little guy. You smile and “talk” to us constantly and we wonder with growing curiosity what you are saying. You are also beginning to roll over—the first stage on your quest to becoming mobile. By the holidays I think you may be crawling. Last year the cats took down our six foot Christmas tree. I am really hoping that as you begin crawling and discover the house that you will not be the culprit of a holiday disaster this year.

Here is a little story about your feline brothers. Moses, Coby and Charlie have been acting up at night. They seem to think that because we are up tending to you for a diaper change or a feeding that we are also up to play with them. It seems that while YOU know night from day, THEY don’t. They have been keeping us up nearly as much as you do! We finally cracked. Over the weekend we bought two baby gates. Not to keep you in, but rather, them out. We stacked the gates one on top of the other at the top of the stairs and hoped for a night of sleep. We had limited success. They were quiet for the first night, but by the second I swear we heard the Mission Impossible theme as Coby scaled the gates and with a thud, landed near the bedroom door and commenced meowing.

Back to Target mommy went to get a third gate and now, they are blocked off for good. There were consequences to our actions, however, as we noticed that Blue, your favorite stuffed puppy, went suspiciously missing the second morning. After repeated threats before I left for work, we came home to find him sitting, unscathed, in the middle of the kitchen floor.

Love,
Mom

Momnesia

Momnesia(n): loss of memory due usually to motherhood.

I made the most embarrassing phone call this morning.

Matt and I went to Babies R Us over the weekend to buy an extra car seat base for Sara, our close friend and Lucas' child care provider. Last night as I was getting his things together for Sara's, I asked Matt where the car seat base was. It wasn't in his car, not in my car, not in the kitchen or the dining room. It wasn't in Lucas' room. "Where could it be?" I asked Matt.

Then came the look of recognition as we both realized the same thing at the same time. No!? Could we have? Was it possible? Did we leave the base at Babies R Us?

It was cold and raining on Saturday, and Lucas had started to cry while I was paying for the base. Matt was tending to Lucas, I was half paying attention to the cashier, but really looking over at Matt and Lucas to see if I could do anything to help calm him. We got him bundled up and out the door into the rain. I thought Matt had grabbed the car seat base. He thought I did.

I know I sounded sheepish and foolish on the phone as I explain the situation to the customer service rep this morning. She was very nice, confirming that they did, in fact, have a car seat base a customer had left at check out on Saturday. After a pathetic series of "thank you's" an "I'm so embarrassed" and one "this has never happened to me before," I detected a little eye rolling on her part before she high tailed it off the phone.

When I was explaining this to Sara earlier today, she laughed and said, "Yup, been there, done that." She had left two large bottles of laundry detergent at Babies R Us at one time and made the same kind of phone call. "Just blame it on momnesia," she added with a laugh.