Tuesday, March 30, 2010

one hundred three

dear little leah,

today you were so still.

and i mean really, really still.

we went to church and you just sat in my arms all cozied up. your hands were in the SAME position for the entire hour. {and if i could just figure out how to get a picture off my phone, i'd show you the proof.}

then i took you to nursery. usually you just love nursery. you're one dense ball of energy {little, but a lot} wandering the room for 2 straight hours. when today i put you down, you just hugged my leg. so...i took you to the table and we colored. you let me help you color. that is so not normal. when we finished, you just SAT in the chair for 10 minutes. also not normal. so i picked you up and we cuddled for the next 40 minutes or so until we dropped you off with daddy and all the other guys. he said you fell asleep in his arms. again, so not normal.

when we got home, you took an okay nap and woke up with a bit more energy. so, we went to dinner at jeff and sarah's {mmm ribs and potatoes}. you ran around with jack just like normal, so we thought you were on the mend.

then we took you to the park. you played for a bit with daddy, but then just wanted to cuddle, so he wrapped you up in a blanket and there you sat for about an hour! you started to feel kind of warm, so when we got you home, we took your temperature.


yes, that's right. one hundred three degrees fahrenheit and your mother didn't even know.

so, we called the advice nurse {ahem, grandma hauley} and she reaffirmed my thought to put you in a lukewarm tub. i know what you're thinking: "THAT TUB WAS NOT LUKEWARM! YOU MADE ME SWIM IN ICE CUBES!" the aforementioned advice nurse used to make me swim in ice cubes when i was little too {she will deny it to this day}, but it works. you were back down to 98 when we got you out of the tub. we called a friend to come over so he could help daddy give you a blessing.

that's when you yacked. all over yourself and me. three times. poor steve just sat there patiently while we put you back in the tub and changed your clothes and blanket. daddy gave you a blessing and steve went home.

then you ralphed again. twice. so we changed your clothes and blanket again.

then it happened again. twice. so we changed you again.

you hadn't eaten all day, so there was really nothing to throw up. you looked so weak and tired.

the tub was full of your not-so-sweet smelling clothes and blankets and you were still feeling kind of warm, so we went and watched some movies on the couch. when you had consistently been about 99 degrees, we put you to bed.

poor thing.

you stayed home from school on monday and still wouldn't eat, but your temperature was back to normal and you were not so still.

i'm sad you were sick, but i have to admit i love that you were so still. you looked so calm and at peace - not tormented by those constantly moving hands or a body you can't control. you just sat. and cuddled. and rested. i'm sorry it had to take a temperature of 103 to help you rest. next time i promise to catch it before it gets that high. that way we can avoid the icy bath.

and maybe, just maybe, you can try a cuddle or two when you're feeling your best? just a thought.

love you.

p.s. loving our new quick forehead thermometer. probably a top 10 purchase to date.

Friday, March 26, 2010

i feel blue

dear little leah,

i feel blue. {ten points to you if you can name the tv show.}not all the time, but i feel blue a lot of the time now.

now, before you go and get all self-conscious on me, let's get something straight: yes, you make me feel blue. BUT, it's not your fault. it's mine.

it's probably hard for you to understand. i barely understand it myself. but, when i became a mommy, i had so many dreams and pictures of the way your life would be when you were three. i envisioned you roller skating through the house on plastic fisher price skates. chatting up a storm. dressing up in tutus. reciting the alphabet. saying hilarious things and wondering where in the world you came up with them. talking back to me like a sass. not wearing a diaper. sleeping in a big girl bed. being a big sister. singing silly songs. choosing your own mismatched clothes.

sometimes i feel like i've had plenty of time to get over all of this. but i guess i haven't. some days i just feel blue. and blue has never been my favorite color {for the record, it's green}.

i think i put on a pretty good happy face. most people don't know i'm blue. or they don't know how blue i am. or maybe just how often i'm blue. don't worry. it's not depression or anything. lots of things make me happy {including you}, but i think i'm still kind of mourning for the leah i first envisioned. i'm still grieving for all those dreams i had. and i need to let them die.

this isn't to say i have no dreams or goals for you now. they've just changed. i get excited about the little things now, and that's probably not such a bad thing. i know you have a lot of potential. but, i have to admit, it's kind of overwhelming for me to try and figure out how to tap into that potential. i feel like i'm drowning in a blue ocean of information and ideas and at the same time i feel like the information i need is in a completely different ocean. i just need to find my way.

will you help me?

maybe just give me a big grin when you like the way i'm doing something. give me those little nudges of yours when i'm headed in the right direction. we'll make it. i know we will.

and someday {soon, i hope} i'll feel a little more green. like my favorite new dress for you. i love you to the moon and back.


p.s. the tv show is friends.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010


dear little leah,

i spoke too soon. please come back. we really do miss you.

love, mommy

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

home again home again jiggity jig

dear little leah,

welcome back. we missed you the past two weeks. you and your naps and your giggles and wonderfulness.

you've been kind of mean. and kind of tired. and kind of mean. oh, and kind of tired too.

but today you came back! we welcomed you with open arms.

today you said "puh, puh" when grandma said, "P is for..."

today you tinkled into the big girl potty {so says grandma... and i'm happy to take her word for it!!}.

today we had a dance party. that was some gooood dancin'.

today you loved school.

today you gave great kisses and hugs and smiles.

today you went up and down the steps like a champ.

today you babbled like it was nobody's business.

today...you came back!! thanks. you {the today version of you} are welcome here any time.

love you bunches.


p.s. yes, i know the pictures are blurry. our dancing is just too good for grandma's camera.
p.p.s. you might be wondering if you'll ever have moves like me. i think you will. one day. just be patient. those kinds of skills take a long time to perfect. but it'll happen.

Friday, March 12, 2010


dear little leah,

today you finished your first week of big-girl preschool.the kind of preschool where the parents don't come with the students.

the kind of preschool where you could take the bus.

the kind of preschool that is 4 day each week!!

you looked super cute on your first day. new birthday shirt. crisp, white capris {that you scuffed on your way in - you were so excited you ran faster than your little legs could carry you!}. cute pink "nub-tails" (that's what we've decided to call them - they're a mix between nubbies and pigtails). fun new backpack. pink Velcro shoes.

everyone asked me how you liked it.

i wish i knew the answer to that question.

you couldn't tell me {in your cute little voice} if you had a good day or not. you couldn't tell me all about your new teachers and your new friends. you couldn't tell me all about art time or snack time or circle time. you couldn't tell me about the cool toys, recess, the books, the potty. you couldn't tell me if you felt happy, sad, frustrated, excited.

your teachers said you did well. they mentioned you seemed tired, but other than that, you were very cooperative. that makes me happy. four days a week is a lot. so you have been extra tired. so extra tired that you haven't sleep well at night and you barely take a nap. i'm hoping we'll all get used to this four-day-a-week schedule and our sleeping can get back to normal {again}.

it was a rough first day. and it's been a rough week. so it can only go up from here, right?

most of the time i'm okay with the fact that you are different. today i wasn't. today i cried. i cried a lot. i was so sad for the simple things we're both missing out on because we communicate differently than each other.

i'm sure you wanted to tell me all about your day. i just don't know how to hear you. i'm learning too. they just don't have a school for mommies, so i have to do it on my own.

so, we'll keep going to preschool. and kindergarten. and grade school and beyond. and hopefully, one day, you'll be able to tell me how your first day of school was.
i love you.