So I'm laying on the couch trying to catch a quick three and a half hour nap, when I feel someone tapping me gently on my chest. I open my eyes to see Lo sanding in front me, lips pursed for a kiss. I purse mine back and give him a quick kiss and tell him I love him. I immediately fall back asleep.
Just a few minutes later I hear E, saying "Mommy! Wake up! There is a crack in the house!" Now, he has been doing this for a few days now. We have laminate flooring that is starting to come apart, so he is convinced that the house is cracking and is going to fall down around us. Half asleep I mumble something to the effect that we are ok, I know there is a crack, but not to worry. That was good enough for him so he goes back to playing on his DS.
Tap, tap, tap. Lo is tapping on me again. I open my eyes and he wants another kiss. I swear that even though he cannot talk, he is the most affectionate, loving child I have ever met. I kiss him again and fall back asleep.
At least 7 more times he taps me and by the last time, he is getting silly. Putting his neck near my mouth, so I kiss his neck instead.
Let me tell you, that if he woke me up everyday (even from naps) like that wanting a kiss, I would be the happiest mommy on the block. He made me feel like a sleeping princess :)
Monday, October 24, 2011
Sunday, October 23, 2011
So I had Open Heart Surgery, So What?
Yeah, so what?
Ok, I am acting a lot tougher than I really am. I am a mess. I show how tough I am on the exterior, but I am a mess. The pain I feel everyday is way more intense than what I have ever felt. The only pain I have ever felt that was worse than this was labor. But in my case, I pushed about 5 times and the baby was out. Plus, I knew that once my baby was out, the pain was done. With this, it seems like there is no end in sight. That is probably what is the toughest thing for me.
My mom and I always joke around what ‘tough broads’ we are. We have gone through a lot in our lives. I had to grow up really fast when I was a teenager and I never looked back.
I don’t feel tough anymore. I feel broken. Broken and I have no idea when I won’t be anymore. It’s not that I feel hopeless. This surgery has allowed me to see my life through different glasses. I am a more positive person. I no longer see the glass half empty. I have hope. I was walking around for 32 years with a big old hole in my heart. Lots of people say that I was a walking miracle. I try to embrace that. Seeing little bear’s face every morning is a reminder of how blessed I am.
But evil, dark depression sets in. It is like the devil sitting on my shoulder. Whispering bad things in my ear. Telling me that it would be easier to give up. Telling me that I am never going to heal. Telling me that this pain is forever.
Logic tells me otherwise. But the pain is just so intense. I feel so helpless. I HATE feeling like this. Logic tells me that I am not going to wake up tomorrow and feel all better. This isn’t just a boo boo from falling off my bike. This was major surgery. But hey, I can dream that I wake up feeling great, right?
That is, if I were sleeping.
Ok, I am acting a lot tougher than I really am. I am a mess. I show how tough I am on the exterior, but I am a mess. The pain I feel everyday is way more intense than what I have ever felt. The only pain I have ever felt that was worse than this was labor. But in my case, I pushed about 5 times and the baby was out. Plus, I knew that once my baby was out, the pain was done. With this, it seems like there is no end in sight. That is probably what is the toughest thing for me.
My mom and I always joke around what ‘tough broads’ we are. We have gone through a lot in our lives. I had to grow up really fast when I was a teenager and I never looked back.
I don’t feel tough anymore. I feel broken. Broken and I have no idea when I won’t be anymore. It’s not that I feel hopeless. This surgery has allowed me to see my life through different glasses. I am a more positive person. I no longer see the glass half empty. I have hope. I was walking around for 32 years with a big old hole in my heart. Lots of people say that I was a walking miracle. I try to embrace that. Seeing little bear’s face every morning is a reminder of how blessed I am.
But evil, dark depression sets in. It is like the devil sitting on my shoulder. Whispering bad things in my ear. Telling me that it would be easier to give up. Telling me that I am never going to heal. Telling me that this pain is forever.
Logic tells me otherwise. But the pain is just so intense. I feel so helpless. I HATE feeling like this. Logic tells me that I am not going to wake up tomorrow and feel all better. This isn’t just a boo boo from falling off my bike. This was major surgery. But hey, I can dream that I wake up feeling great, right?
That is, if I were sleeping.
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