Date Archives → June 2008

less than a week

I’m in countdown mode: six days till Jameson and I board [yet another] plane and head to northern New York.

I probably don’t have to share with you that I’m a wee bit nervous about flying, but well, I am. So you can pray the flight goes well. I’m trying to have a good attitude and hope for the best… and as a backup plan, I’m trying to have a “Mom” attitude and think of what an adventure this will be. This will be my first flight with a weaned, walking, energetic toddler. I’m, well, uh, nervous. But trying not to be. We’ll be fine. (We may also be the people that all the young professional males roll their eyes at, and will complain about that night to their peers while they hang out at some swank club, far away from all children. Oh well. They were kids once, too.)

Anyway, it’s less than six days. I’ve made lists of things to purchase, loose ends to tie up (or, in my case, clip off — I have a bad habit of throwing a pair of pants on Jameson before I’ve trimmed all of the threads), and am now entering clean-cook-and-pack mode.

I’m also entering clean-the-guest-room mode, because Mark is coming for the few days before I leave. How fun will that be? Of course, we’ll all catch up a bit, and it will hit me (again) that we’re like 15 years removed from wearing braces and Suzuki violin and are rounding the bend to 30. I can sort of forget that fact until I’m with someone who I think should be a teenager like me, and they’re not. (Which means that I’m not, either.)

So clean out the fridge, cook up some food, change a few beds, and throw everything we own for the summer into a few bags (and hope they don’t weigh too much), and then we’re off.

Off to see moms and dads and Jedi knights and blonde princesses, red-headed babies and their mamas, sisters and friends and church and corn fields. Yeah. I miss the corn fields.

sick day

My poor little buddy has been teething like crazy the last week or so — fingers constantly be gnawed on, saliva running down his fists, elbows, and leaving puddles on the floor. And of course, a touch of fever. So lots of time in my bed rather than his.

And now he’s got an awful cold — I suppose that’s hard to avoid when you’ve been jamming your fingers in your mouth for days, everywhere you go, no matter what you’ve touched. He’s had tears streaming down his cheeks all day long, and not because he’s been crying. Just because his whole face is running. He couldn’t nap, due to choking on phlegm, and only got a few minutes of sleep when he would finally succumb as I rocked him. Now he’s at last in bed, snuggled in my bed, still coughing. I feel so bad for him. I hate it when he’s sick.

So, I got very little done today. In fact, I have no idea how an entire day passed while I did [what felt like] nothing. But oddly enough, my day of doing nothing felt more full of meaning and purpose than most of my productive days ever do. As I spent a whole day offering juice, running for the tissues, and holding a warm and distraught little boy, I knew that those moments mattered. And was thankful, again, that my mom served us as though being a mom was a high and holy calling. Because it is.

*****

Also of note, the blackberries in the backyard are ripening. Um, can you say YUM? (I can’t convince Jameson to try one, so I get them all to myself!)