Monday, August 25, 2008

Livy's Baby Book

I want to log some things I find kinda cute about my offspring so I'll have the memories forever. If I were the nice kind of mom who keeps a baby book, these are some things I would include in it:

Olivia Sayings:

~I got it, I got it.

~Helk, please.
(Especially if something is 'heaby' and difficult to lift. These words are only spoken by this child after she says, "I got it. I got it," and has tried very hard to get it on her own.)

~I hode you, Momma.
(When she wants to hold me, of course)

~Oh, dosh.
(Well, it could be worse, I guess.)

~Uuuuuhhhhhmmmmmm, no dank dou. No, no diaper, Momma.
(This was after asking her if she would go get a diaper while I started Cinderella. I love how she pretended to think about my request, when I'm pretty sure her mind was already made up.)

~Night, night Daddy. No, no Momma.
(OK, the story behind this one is kinda long. When I was in class last Monday, Olivia spent the day with Aaron because his weekend is Sunday and Monday. Well, that afternoon she had her first and hopefully last seizure. Aaron was scared to death that Livy might not be OK, but he handled the situation amazingly. He made sure she was breathing, called 911, and rode with her on the ambulance to Cook's, one of the top 5 children's hospitals in the nation. He kept a calm facade for his daughter's sake and gave her the best care possible until I was able to join them at the hospital. When I arrived at the ER, I could hear her whimpering for me from behind the curtain before I could see her, and when she saw me, she melted into my arms and crashed. Thanks and praise be to God - she's fine; it's evidently no big deal, just a febrile seizure, which to a parent is a very scary thing.

We were completely blessed by everyone around us who was wonderful to us that day - from the calming 911 dispatcher, to the speedy and comforting EMTs, to the very knowledgeable and reassuring doctor who spent forever with us. Instead of asking, "Is there anything else I can answer for you?" he asked, "What other question can you think of that I can help you with?" or something to that effect. He made it clear he would be with us until we were going to be ok, regardless of how long it took. The grandparents (and all of our siblings) were there for us, too, driving me to the hospital, getting dinner for us, fetching the carseat to bring back to the hospital so we could go home, offering to jump in the car and drive to town from Nashville, and calling to check up on Olivia. Even one of my instructors helped by sending me a list of suggestions for dealing with traumatic events to share with Aaron, who was clearly, well, traumatized. Basically, it was a terribly wonderful day.

Background info aside, back to "Night, night Daddy. No, no Momma." That night, Livy was going to spend the night in our room, so we made her lovely princess couch/bed into a cozy little pallet on the floor next to mommy. This clearly was not close enough to us, and she was still pretty upset come nighttime. So we held her, talked to her, rocked her, sang to her, etc. until she seemed sleepy. When we put her back in her bed, she was still unhappy, so we brought her onto our bed. She was happy with this for a very short period of time, but she knew exactly what she needed to sleep peacefully. "Night, night (with) Daddy. No, no Momma," she said as she gently nudged me out of bed. So, guess who slept on the princess bed that night? And despite the fact that the princess bed is only as long as my head and part of my torso, and that we have hard wood (ok, faux hard wood) flooring in our room, and that we were up every hour and a half, I COULDN'T POSSIBLY express how wonderful it made me feel to have my daughter in my room that night, asking for her prince charming who so chivalrously rescued her that day, while I slept next to them on a princess pallet. While this is something that certainly could not last forever, it made for a lovely sleeping arrangement last Monday night.)

Friday, August 15, 2008

Warning: Eat with caution

I just called my hubby at work and found out he quite possibly saved the life of another employee at work today! Some poor guy was enjoying his Taco Bueno when he choked and couldn't breathe. Luckily Aaron was there to give him the Heimlich Maneuver, sending burrito particles flying and restoring this guy's oxygen supply. My hero. : - )

Thursday, August 14, 2008

Buddies, Then and Now

I can't believe how quickly time flies. Seems like this was just yesterday.

Still cutie patooties, though!

Friday, August 8, 2008


I have become quite the translator when it comes to toddlerese. However, there is one phrase that keeps popping up that I can't figure out. So I thought I'd ask for some helpful suggestions. It's: hah doddy. She says it every time she sees a motah-cycee (motorcycle), so I thought she was saying "hi Daddy," thinking the big guy on the bike was Dad. But now it's popping up in other places, too, so I'm clueless. Any good ideas about what hahdoddy means?

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

The Princess' Party

For Livy's 2nd birthday, we got the parents, aunts, and uncles together to swim at the grandparents' house. (I still cannot believe my BABY is TWO!) Here are a few of the highlights of her bash:

Uncle Adam trying to wake up the birthday girl. She wasn't very concerned that she had guests over who were waiting for her to join them.

Hanging out with Grandma

Cinderella cake made by Aunt Becky

Singing "Happy to You" (and, no, that's not a typo - that's how she sings it)

Daddy helping her put on her "Love" costume he bought for her birthday. (Then they danced to "So This is Love" while I cried.)

Curling up with a good book and Aunt Becky

The dinosaur robot from Papa and Grandma, which she loves to pieces. She's named her E-o

Uncle Abe wanted to make sure everyone knew how many gifts he got for her. Silly Abe.

Livy learning to share!

New nightie from Aunt Jaime - I think she likes it.

Her new laptop. Kidding. Cute pic, though, right?

Saturday, August 2, 2008

"She...extends her hands to the needy."

My mother spends 40+ hours each week driving all over the Metroplex to visit aged and dying patients, caring for their medical needs, easing their physical and emotional pain, loving on their grieving loved ones, attending deaths, visitations, and funerals, and returning home to spend additional hours catching up on paperwork and phone calls. Being a hospice nurse would have to be draining to any mind, body, and spirit, but my mom does it all in spite of chronic pain and the debilitating effects of rheumatoid arthritis and fibromyalgia. With a good attitude and loving heart. This already is a great feat, but it doesn't stop there. She is such a loving mom and friend, and she even makes a bit of time for those granbabies of hers. (I think they're a bit fond of each other, actually.) She's an encouraging friend and looks after neighbors and other family members, as well.

I spent this afternoon with her and watched one of her patients light up as she walked into his home to visit with him and his wife, bring them dinner, and clean their house because, as he put it, "I'd be embarrassed for the pastor to come and visit me right now." She may spend the next two days "paying for" her cleaning spree (I had to get on to her a few times for breaking her rules - that stubborn madre of mine!), but I know she wouldn't have it any other way. Her patients are so at home with her that it felt like visiting family. They open up to her, trust her, and really just need her during this season of their lives. I love and admire my mom. Having been raised by such a loving mother is one of the greatest blessings I've experienced. I appreciate the example my mom has set for me, the mother she is to me, and the "gammaw" my little girl is also blessed to have.

On another blessed-to-have-wonderful-mothers note, I have a pretttty lovely mom-in-law, too! Talk about serving others, working hard, achieving astounding goals, and rich inner/outer beauty! "I luh you mush," both of you!