So, I have been doing ALOT of thinking. After seeing all of those babies and kids in the hospital being cared for by nurses and thinking of what horrible parents they must have, I have been wondering what really makes a woman a mom. I mean, I felt like a mom the moment I laid eyes on Sullivan. No, I take that back, I felt like a mom the moment I heard that raspy cry in the operating room with my stomach cut wide open, on a bunch of drugs to make me loopy, and Aaron saying "You make beautiful babies." Now seeing him, that was another story. God help me, but I balled like a baby that He would trust me enough to give me this tiny little life. I had two little babies- in the 5 pound range, and they were so small and helpless that I couldn't help but feel I had an important job to do to just get them to their first birthday. After recent events, I have realized that it takes so much more than a birth story or an adoption certificate to make a mom. No, that may give you legal rights to a child, but to be a mom, you have to LOVE this tiny little helpless being that doesn't really love you back so much. They cry ALOT, and you have to wake up all of the time meeting their needs. All of the time. And, they don't stop until you do. You have to stay by their sides when they are sick and let them know beyond the shadow of a doubt that they have an ally fighting for them in their corner.
Sullivan has strep again, and some kind of respiratory infection. I swear we keep our house clean, we went out and bought HUGE hospital grade air purifiers to keep the house cleaner. But, after breathing treatments, steroids, and antibiotics at the dr, we left to go to the pharmacy. On the way, Sullivan reminded me of the deal that he and I have about doctors appointments. He is brave, I buy him a McDonalds ice cream. Before you get all high and mighty on me and tell me how horrible bribery is, let me let you bring a child who HATES doctors to an appointment without a bribe. So, I get him the cone, and about two minutes later, he says, " I am done." Now, the cone was still very big. Then, "I am gonna be sick." And, the throw up follows. Lots of throw up. Did I tell you that there was ALOT of throwup? Oh, let me remind you that my car is THREE weeks old. And, he kept throwing up. So, we pulled over so I could calm him down (because thats what moms do while the dads are cleaning up the throw up- Way to Go mom for suggesting daddy leave his car at the office so he could ride with us to the pharmacy!!!) So, after cleaning him and the massive amount of throw up up, we go to the pharmacy. Basically everything they could screw up while filling a prescription they did, and we waited for an hour with a pager in the car. Sophie was being really good, and I was wondering why she wasn't crying for food. She has been nursing every hour since she has been sick, and she was going on 4 hours here. So, being a mom, I figured something just wasn't right. I climbed back there and the overwhelming smell of throw up and poop overcame me. There was poop everywhere. EVERYWHERE there was poop. So, since we had used all of our resources in the car on cleaning the throwup up, we got resourceful. I got out the windbreaker that I keep in the car and moved her to that while we used the mcdonalds napkins from the infamous ice cream cone to wipe her. I must say that we did a pretty good clean up job.
So, basically, in one day a real mom: stays home with her two sick kids, keeping them away from each other so as to minimize the germ sharing, brings the aforementioned kids to the dr, holds the hand of the "brave" one during his breathing treatments and encourages him on his braveness while the doctor checks him out, calms the throwing up child down, cleans the poop infested baby up, and all the while manages to overcome her own horrible throat and ear pain. Man, sometimes I wonder why I wasn't chosen to be the dad!!!
And, now, just to lighten the mood, here is my drama king of a child describing the only time he is allowed to call his nanny grandma. I swear, if anyone has any extra money, a worthy investment would be in drama lessons for him. We could make a fortune!