Translation Please

Kian turned 3 on Tuesday. As he talked to everyone who called to wish him well, I thought about how verbose he has become. He told everyone exactly what he got for his birthday, what everyone in the house was doing, and all of his random musings in a nonstop stream of consciousness. Just one year ago we were sitting in the doctor's office when she asked, does he know 50 words, go home tonight and count, if you can't come up with 50 call me in the morning. We were had pressed to come up with 50 and could only get there if we included animal noises and uh-oh!

Of course as Kian talks on the phone we still get a lot of requests for translations. As our friend Matt said the other day, Kian comes up with his own contractions. Some examples... When his teacher asked what he got for his birthday in the morning he proudly told her that mommy let him put sprinkles on the "upcakes" (upcakes = cupcakes, we opened the real presents that night). Just a couple days before he told us he couldn't find his "hookers", where his "hookers" under the table, where the "hookers" behind the chair, he really needed those "hookers" (hooker = later determined to be the train cars that hook together.) When I picked him up at school after a couple of days in PA, Kian used my guilt at being away to request special treats. I wanna go "Walmart" (Walmart = McDonald's though he has never actually been to the McDonald in the Walmart and clearly thinks Walmart is the stand alone McDonald's with the play structure). I wanna get "lunch" (lunch = all meals and/or snack). I wanna go Chick-a-lay (Chick-a-lay = Chic-fil-a though he doesn't actually like Chic-fil-a nuggets so this may also mean McDonald's). I wanna get "CD" (CD = DVD). I wanna get Chippendale's (Chippendale's = Alvin & the Chipmunks, most likely confused with Disney's Chip and Dale). I can't tell you how many months it took me to realize that he always said b*%&$ when driving over the bridge. I just didn't want to ask for clarification and encourage the word.

Next year this time I won't have these cute little words to listen to everyday. As much as I know we should help him with his language a small part of me wants to hold on to my little boy.

More Firsts

After 4 days in PA, Liv came back with her first tooth (on Mother's Day - May 9th which perfectly coincided with her first flight... lots of fun), had her first attempt at a sippy cup with water (fun but not necessarily productive), and became an expert crawler (she's been working at crawling for most of the past month but she officially has it down pat now). It hard to believe she is 8 months today! My little girl is growing up.

Last weekend Zac and I discussed how we really should lower her crib soon. She was already pulling herself up if you let her hold onto your fingers. Zac lowered it Friday. Saturday morning I found her standing up in her crib. The cruising has officially started.

Does Motherhood Equal Worry

I go to work every day and talk about Kian's latest antics and the chaos that is my household of 3 dogs, 1 cat, 1 almost three year old, 1 seven month old , and two working parents. All too frequently I also find myself voicing my concerns for Olivia. I talk about her time at Texas Children's with meningitis at seven days old in a cathartic way. I explain how much I worried, how much I still worry, how much I never really got the full gravity of the situation when it was happening and so maybe only now that its all done and over with can I worry as I probably should have seven months ago. I share her latest updates - another round of albuterol, steroids, inhalers, antibiotics, whatever the flavor of the day seems to be. I don't know what the biweekly doctor's visits mean or what they'll lead to next or how to help by baby breath. I look at her and think she is so happy, so smart, so perfect this is all a silly goose chase for a tiny wheeze but then the doctors throw around respiratory failure, pneumonia, emergency response, rescue breathing treatments and, I worry.

Even as I worry I know we're fortunate - she is okay, in my heart I know she is okay, we'll get through this, so many other mothers deal with so much worse but then *my* baby is sick. Maybe worry is what motherhood is all about.

One of my coworkers keeps asking - Do you keep a journal? Are you writing this stuff down? Kids are curious by nature. They'll want to know what happened to them when they were younger. She'll want to know about all of this stuff. So here it is. I'm writing it down. A chronicle of worry and the loads of precious, happy moments that you don't want to slip through your fingers. Now off to check her breathing -- just to be sure -- before I head to bed.