Looking up and up and up

Grocery shopping Saturday:

I walked into Brody's daycare Thursday night.

"You," she said. "You, I need to talk to you."

"Yes?"

"Kim texted me right after you talked to her. We decided that is just unacceptable. Brody will not be leaving us. We love him too much. He can't leave. We'll pick him up."

"What?"

"We'll do it. Just give us directions, and we'll give you the names of people who will do the picking up, and that's that."

I got teary eyed right then and there.

How much extra each week?

Nothing extra.

Starts tomorrow.

In other news, I'm doing a social experiment.

I'm selling our changing table and diaper champ on Craigslist.

A woman wanted to pick them up today, during the day. When we are not home.

I left them outside, along with some baby-themed picture frames we never opened. Asked her to put the money for the items in our mail slot.

This is completely contrary to my lawyerly nature, and general cynicism.

Even if she doesn't leave the money, I do not believe I will be upset. If she needs them that badly, it's not the end of the world.

But seriously, a few years ago, I never, ever, would have done this sort of thing. Honor system with a stranger?

I think I'm mellowing.

Finally, is it me?

Or are sunsets getting prettier?

Behind our house this weekend:

Things are looking up

It's been a difficult few weeks. I decided to give up fighting it all.

Today Brody again missed preschool. I told the preschool the truth: we are having transportation issues. We can't pick him up to take him to daycare so he doesn't go and that we are looking at other daycares.

The administrator was so nice. She said she knew of one, the one we had looked at. I said we had looked at that one, but it wasn't as good as our current daycare, but we were probably going to switch anyway. She said she goes to school with the director of the possible new daycare, and she knows, and she is making dramatic changes over there. That made me feel better.

Then I called our current daycare. I said we might have to give notice of leaving, and explained the reasons why. I told the director we were heartbroken at the idea of Brody leaving because we love them. She said she is heartbroken too. I asked if she knew of anyone who could do the transporting twice a week? She is checking it out.

That made me feel better, too.

Jeremy got his license in the mail. And then he got another license in the mail. Thanks DMV. Is that an admission that the cancellation was wrong?

Brody had his 3 year well-check visit at the pediatrician yesterday. I brought him to my office first, and he was in rare form. Dressed as Spiderman, shooting webs at my co-workers, hugging my co-workers, it was fun. Then at the pediatrician, we had a surprise waiting.

Apparently, our pediatrician had a stash of H1N1 and seasonal flu vaccines. They hold them for the high risk of the high risk population. Being 3 is one thing, being 3 with only one kidney is entirely another. So we got the vaccinations, and I cannot tell how you relieving it is. We have to get the booster in a month.

He also checked Brody's blood pressure. High blood pressure damages kidneys. Brody has never had it, but it needs to be monitored. Brody would not stay still enough. But we got a pretty good reading, and it was good.

But then the doc said that the "poor man's" measure of kidney function is really whether a child is growing.

And Brody is growing.

Three inches and six pounds in one year.

He is in the 40th% for weight (he has never been that high) and the 75th% for height. Estimating he will be 6ft, 1in when he is an adult!!!!!

It was a very good day.

I took a leap of faith and booked this apartment in Paris for our trip in May. The owner, Isabelle, was lovely at the start of our email correspondence, but then I told her about how we won the contest. She read the press release about Brody and our struggles thus far. She wrote back and revealed that her sister had kidney problems until she was 13, and got a new one. She said they spent the majority of those 13 years in hospitals, so she knows how difficult it is. I already liked her from our emails, but now I know this was THE apartment we are meant to rent. And her mom lives 50 yards from the apartment. I cannot wait to meet her as well.

That made me feel much better.

Then this morning, Brody climbed into our bed. It was 5:30am. I told him it was still the middle of the night and he had to sleep. Because it feels like the middle of the night at 5:30am.

He was quiet for about 2 seconds, then started giggling.

What are you doing, Brody?

(giggling) I'm tickling myself.

Tickling yourself?

(giggling still more) Yeah, in my armpit.

I looked and in the pre-dawn light, he had one arm raised over his head, and he was, in fact, tickling his own armpit.

That made me feel the best of all.

Guilty. Liable. Wrong. Felonious. Culpable.

These words are all synonyms.

And describe how I feel quite perfectly at the moment.

It's been two weeks since we did a Tuesday or Thursday transfer from preschool to daycare.

I did one today.

Brody was at first so happy to see me. Grins. Dimples dazzling. Running into my arms.

"Hi mommy!" squishing hugs.

"Mommy, I wanna go home."

I know, Brody. I wanna go home too. But you get to go to [name of daycare] today! And see all your friends!

Crumpled face. Tears. Sobbing.

"Mommy, I wanna go home!"

"I don't wanna go to school. Peez mommy, peez I want go home!"

My heart feels like his face.

Crumpled.

I tried bribery.

I'll bring you a treat, Brody.

"Mommy, I wanna go home. Peez I can go home? Peez?!?!"

I hugged him a lot between the preschool, the car, the daycare.

"Daddy misses me, mommy. Peez no school today?"

Daddy does miss you. I miss you too, baby, but we have to take you to school because mommy and daddy have to go to work. I'm sorry sweetie. I'm so sorry. All your friends miss you too, sweetie. Like Monty, Dylan, Zoe, Ryan, Noah. They all are waiting for you at [daycare].

Hugging me fiercely, muffled into my hair, I hear, "I wanna be wis you, mommy."

I can't do this anymore. He loves his daycare. He truly does, and the teachers adore him. We walked in and they got his naptime mat and blankie ready. He leaves my arms calmly and passes right out on his mat, with his blankie on him.

But I seriously can't do this.

He only has problems when I do the transfer from preschool to daycare. It is too much to ask of him to be okay with seeing me, in the middle of the day, and have me leave him twice.

We looked at the other possible daycare this morning, before this episode.

It's not as nice as the one we have. It's in a church, which is not our church, but they seemed nice. A few of the kids he has known from other daycares when he was little little. The kids were happy and orderly. Teachers normal. Outside play area was awesome. Licensed by the state; I've seen the inspection reports, it's all okay.

And they would pick him up from preschool and take him, with his classmates, to that daycare. For $120 less a month. And it's 10 minutes closer to our house.

But I can tell it's not as good a daycare as the one we have. The facility, for one, is just a big room that is "multi-use." No actual rooms divided by age. Smaller than the center we're at, seemingly less organized. Less professional.

And they said, "So you said he has some disabilities?" Um.... no. I said he has a limb difference. That made me not like them, but it IS a fairly innocent, and relevant, question. But it got my hackles up.

But I can't repeat today. I can't do that to him. It's demanding too much of my little boy. And I will just come to work one day and quit if we don't figure this out soon.

And if we do have a pay cut, I may reduce my hours even more anyway and go to some kind of part-time schedule. One of my co-workers does that; she works 4 days a week; a 20% pay cut.

But it would be so nice to have more time with him.

My poor baby. I'm a terrible mother.

It might just be genetic? Oma-ism. . .

I sent this email to my mom, Brody's Oma:

Last night we were getting B ready for bed in his room. He was putting his toys away, and suddenly found his toy phone. He said very seriously, "I gotta make a call. I gotta call Oma."
Then he "called" you, and told you he was going to be Spiderman for Halloween. :-)

Then my mom emailed me back:

How cute, I take this just like a real call. I told him that his costume is very cute (I saw the photo) and that Spiderman is one of my very favorite costumes because he is a very good Super Hero.
Love you,Mom

Where have I been?

The run down since the last post, in more or less chronological order of events that have taken place in the last 10 days.

I'm driving to work. My husband has left 30 mins before me for work. As I'm driving, I see him walking on the side of the road.

Strange.

I pull over.

His rental car, the one he had since his other car was getting repaired from hail damage ($500 deductible) is crunched in the front.

Yes, he has rearended someone, who rearended someone.

And forgotten his wallet and phone at home.

Cop runs his license.

My husband's license is cancelled.

Not suspended.

Cancelled.

Because he paid a ticket late 2 years ago.

It was cancelled for 2 years, even though he was rear-ended 8 months ago. And pulled over and given a warning for failure to stop completely 1 year ago. Is no one running his license?

Then again, he disclaimed all knowledge of his failure to pay that original ticket timely (and all memory of receiving the original ticket).

Which I doubt.

It was a . . . . . tense week in our household.

Because I wanted to murder him.

We were then down to 1 car, because of course, the police impound and tow the rental car ($200) and we pay another deductible ($500).

And then he had no license so we had to pay ($95) to have him take a written and driving test.

See what I mean about tense?

He passed the written test, but the next available driving test was 3 weeks away.

And I was scheduled to go out of town twice for work within that time period, that same time period my husband had to work, drop Brody off to and from daycare.

That same time period during which my husband had as much legal right to drive a car by himself as my 3 year old did.

Like I said, tense.

Finally, he listens to me and we hire a private driving school that will give him the ($50) test. He passes.

We go back to the DMV to have his picture taken ($24).

We still have one car, because the hail damage repair place has not called us.

This is the same month we paid our deductible ($500) to install a new roof on our house.

Then the one car we did have decided to be difficult, and flashed a light that said:

check engine

check engine

And, $832.40 later, the check engine light is off.

In the meantime, Brody has missed 4 days of preschool because with one car, and our current ridiculous level of busy-ness at our respective jobs, we can neither wait until 8:15am in the morning to drop him off nor pick him up at 11:15am to transfer him to daycare.

Now we are looking at switching daycares from one that will not transport him to and from preschool to one that does. The problem? I love the daycare we have. I love them. Brody struts with confidence into and out of that place, and gives hugs to the teachers. He talks about his teachers with us and is always smiling and squealing while there.

Then my car's rear brake light stopped working on one side.

Which I discovered the day before I find out that I am being furloughed (no pay) for 3 days before the end of this calendar year.

Which is better than being laid off.

Which I know intellectually.

But then another friend of mine who works for the same employer, more or less, says she heard in addition to that, They are contemplating 8 more furlough days starting in January 2010, along with a permanent 2% reduction in pay.

Again. We are better off than many many people.

But if I have to lose any more money to stupidity, bad luck, or this economy,

I will cry.

By the way, we got over a foot of snow yesterday and today in our yard.

Ideas for Five Skies

Remember 234 years ago when I announced my desire to start a non-profit? Well, I'm filling out paperwork for the IRS to complete that process.

But part of that process involves a vision for Five Skies.

My vision was to help families who have chronically ill children in and out of the hospital.

How?

I'd like ideas.

Maid service?

Sitting with your child while you get some needed rest or away time? It's draining being a caregiver.

Gifts for siblings?

A masseuse to come to the hospital to give you a neck and shoulder rub to try to heal from those awful, low down dirty parent "beds"?

Visa gift cards for food and gas and other essentials?

Food baskets?

What does a family need when their child is in and out of hospitals repeatedly? (Besides answers and solutions to the obvious).

I permit anonymous comments here. Please post some ideas.

Brodyisms

I cannot believe it's Friday again. It's been a helluva week. A HELLuva week. But that's neither here nor there. Or it's everywhere, but I'm not blogging about it just yet. Nothing extremely bad, but some incredible frustration.

There are some very good, very good parts of this week.

Edited to add one more Brodyism that Sarah just reminded me about:

I went to pick up B from daycare the other day. He was about to go potty. He asked me to come with him, so I followed. In the potty room were two toilets, no stalls, with stepstools. And three girls around Brody's age. Two girls on the toilets, pants pulled down, skirts hiked up, going potty. The door to the hallway was open, and the teacher(s) at least one) were in eyesight of the kids at all times. Then the girls jumped off the potties, and Brody and the other girl went. The first two kids were now washing their hands in the sinks.

I'm sitting here stunned that we can all see (most) of each other's potty parts, and Brody and the girls (and eventually the two other boys who had to pee) could not care one whit. They were just going potty, talking to me about Santa Claus and snow, and they are all half-nekkid.

On the weekends, and most nights, Brody will say, out of the blue, "I wanna be nay-kid, mommy" and lift up his arms for me to disrobe him.

One day recently, the DirectTV repairman was on his way to our house. He had just called to confirm. Brody says, "I wanna be nay-kid now." I say, "Sorry, Brody, we have to wait. The TV guy is coming to fix the TV. We have to wear clothes."

B: (pouting with the big lower lip, looking down): I wanna be naykid.

He had to wait until the TV guy left.

**********************************************

Tuesday morning, 5am, Brody walks into our bedroom.

B: Mommy, I hadda bad dweem.

Me: It's okay, sweetie. I'm here. Wanna sleep with us?

B: Yeah.

B climbs on the bed, J and I snuggle him in between us. He immediately falls asleep. I hear his even breathing, then I fall asleep. Ten minutes later, I wake up to shaking.

I open my eyes. Brody's eyes are closed, and he is on his back. Giggling. A silent, whole-body-moving, giggle. Then, with his eyes still closed, and still smiling,

B: I like dat.

More giggling. Eyes still closed. Then he stops smiling and giggling and rolls over, presumably to have another dream.

***************************************

Ninety minutes later, same morning.

I wake up to a softly whispering Brody. I look at him. He's laying on his back, eyes open, doing what appears to be "itsy bitsy spider" with his hands, and whispering something while looking out the window.

Me: What are you saying, Brody?

B: I'm just counting da twees.

**************************************

This morning. I am finishing wetting down his hair so it doesn't stick straight up. He says,

B: You pretty, mommy.

Me: Thank you, monkey. And you are beautiful.

B: No, I'm handsome.

Me: Yes, you are handsome. And beautiful, too!

We drive to daycare. While getting him out of the car, I can't help but say:

Me: Who's handsome?

B: (smiling) I am.

Me: Who's beautiful?

B: I am. then

B: Who's pretty?

Me: (shocked and smiling) I am.

**************************************

Hope everyone has a happy and safe weekend.