Saturday, July 10, 2010

Crazy Misunderstood

I just got back home from a nice, relaxing and much needed massage.   I've done a number on my back.  I think the combination of kickboxing, lifting Luke who is 35 lbs, carrying him up and down stairs, and pushing him in the stroller along with Ava attached via Buggy Board all around town, has really taken its toll. 

I called for an appointment yesterday afternoon and got in for 9am this morning.  I thought for a moment that it was going to stink to have to get up early and get out of the house to go but then realized how absolutely ridiculous that was.  Yeah, God forbid I wake up a little early to go lay down for a 90 minute massage.  That sooooooooooooooo hard! At least I can make fun of myself and get when I'm being ridiculous.

My massage therapist asked about the kids and I was telling her how Ava was off to Kindergarten in September.  She asked how I felt about it expecting me to be sad but I'm really not.  It's interesting because I hated the thought of putting her in pre-k.  I was not ready to let her go at 3 years old.  Kids are still so little then.  They even still look like babies. 

It was in the Fall of 2007 that we interviewed at her pre-school.  Ava was only 2 at the time but would be entering their preschool program the following September at the age of three, if she, we, were accepted.  I was pregnant with Luke at the time.  Isabel had just been delivered a few months earlier and I was feeling so sad and scared wondering if Luke would actually come out alive.  I had little interest in Ava being anywhere away from me, and here we were interviewing to send my baby girl away. May sound absolutely ridiculous and overly dramatic to you, but that's how it felt for me.

We found out that she was accepted into the schools 3 morning program on March 3rd of 2008.  I remember because it was Stephen's Birthday.  Two months later, Luke arrived via C-Section at 35 weeks, via emergency c-section due to complications with clotting.  I realized that if I had not been at the Dr's office that day, that he would have died too and that and his short stint in the NICU due to the fact that he was having trouble breathing, had both me and Stephen completely unnerved.  We had been through a lot in a one year span.  Luke was actually meant to be delivered via c-section on June 19th, which was Isabel's delivery date.

We were both very afraid that Luke might have suffered some sort of brain damage due to the lack of oxygen at birth and once we were home we noticed that his breathing still didn't sound right.  He was making really strange sounds.  In order for me to get any sleep, my mom and sister went out and bought me one of those crib monitors for peace of mind.  I knew that if he stopped breathing, an alarm would sound.

We see now that he's a strong, healthy little boy, who is smart as a whip! We didn't know what to expect then though because when he was in the NICU the Dr. kept finding these little things wrong with him.  He ran a fever and was deficient in Vitamin C.  It was one thing after the other.  He even bares a scar on the top of his head which was caused by the IV the nurse had to put there for him to get the medications and vitamins he needed because it was the biggest vein she could find.  She put it in wrong though and it dripped and caused the scarring.

School started in September and there I was with my little 3 year old girl and 4 month old son feeling shaken but at that point, no one knew what had happened to us and what we were going through.

I knew first hand that bad things did happen and that they happened to me.

I remember being completely freaked out the day we were told that the school would be taking the kids on a walking trip to the Hudson River and I was like, seriously?  You're taking a bunch of 3 and 4 year olds to the River?!  I envisioned one of them falling in, and by one of them, I mean Ava.   

I'm pleased to report that no one fell in and all was smooth until the notice of lice in school came out 2 weeks before school was over.  Once again, I'm thinking, if anyone's kid's gonna get it, it's gonna be my kid.  I envisioned her coming home with it and passing it along to both me and Luke.  Stephen was lucky, he's bald!  There would be lice in the pillows and lice in the rugs.  Yikes!

She didn't get lice though.  Thankfully.  After the school year was over though, I heard that one of the teachers said that some of the moms were crazy and actually called the school to see if there was lice in the classroom because God forbid their little darlings (or something to that affect) get lice. 

I don't remember exactly because I was so overcome by the embarrassment at how I was being perceived.

As one of the "crazy" moms who called, was me.

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