Friday, July 2, 2010

Stealing Strawberries

 One of the hardest transitions to motherhood has been that nothing is mine anymore.  My body hasn't belonged to me since the first one was conceived and continues to be treated as public property by my children.  Clothes are played with as is my jewelry, my hair and bath stuff is borrowed, all three children traipse around the house in my shoes and of course my food is their food.  Unless it's something that they really don't like.  But chances are even if it's food they despise, if Mommy's eating it they will too.

 I made myself a really nice breakfast today: yogurt, granola and strawberries mixed with whipped cream.  Mmmmm good!  Once my littlest finished his breakfast, he came over to try mine.  Well, first he tried to climb across the table to get at my food, but after a gentle reminder, he walked around the table and asked nicely.  As long as I had food in my bowl, he stood there, holding my hand, with his mouth open for me.  He's so cute!

 Normally his cuteness factor would have only managed to get him a couple of bites and then I would have refused to share.  But not today.  Today I shared all the way to the last bite.  Why the difference?  Well, last night at our community bbq, Kian fell off a chair.  He hit his head on the concrete patio.  It didn't sound bad, but still...not cool.  I cuddled him in with an icepack and his special blankie.  His sobs ebbed, his tears dried and his eyes closed.  Not good.  Although sleeping was perfectly explainable as he had skipped his nap, it was bedtime and he had just gotten hurt, it could also been a sign of deeper trauma.  Eek!  I held him for awhile longer to watch his breathing, and then we changed him for bed.  Steve and I decided to keep him on our bed so we could monitor him better.  He stretched while we changed him, proving that he had full mobility(something else we were worried about), but didn't open his eyes.  After talking to my aunt who is a nurse, I tried to wake him again.  It didn't work.

 I was a bundle of nerves by this point and had started randomly crying.  I was reasonably sure he was okay, but I wasn't all the way sure.  Aris was in full meltdown mode, Steve was cracking down on her behaviour and I was tired from a very very full day.   Not good.  Eventually peace returned to our house.  I went to check on Kian to find him now lying sidewise in our bed with the covers in disarray.  That was reassuring!  Soon after, Steve moved him to his bed for the night.   I was mostly okay, but still a wee bit concerned that he wouldn't wake up in the morning.

 This morning I was the first one awake which is highly unusual in our house.  I'm normally the last one up.  Kian is often the first awake, so I was a wee bit worried.  I wanted to check on him but didn't want to wake him up if he was just sleeping instead of dead(yes, I imagination runs wild).  A little while later I heard footsteps through the monitor and went to open the door.  Sure enough, on the other side looking all cute and sleepy, was my blonde monkey.  " I waked up" he said, all cute and solemn.  I scooped him up and we climbed back into my bed, rejoicing.

 So this morning, I shared my strawberries with a glad heart.  Instead of being annoyed,  I treasured the almost climbing on table moments and the little boy who likes to hold my hand while being fed my breakfast.  That little open mouth so reminiscent of a baby bird was indescribably precious to me today.  Yesterday's scare sucked, but the reminder to treasure my wee one all the time was invaluable.  So I clung to that later today when he wouldn't stop screaming.  My little ones are a blessing, I just have to look at them right.

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