stream of consciousness

This has been a dizzying three weeks, I tell you.  In fact, there is a lot I could tell you.  I could tell about how during the first two weeks after Juju's birth, our family was plagued with illness and infection:  three ears infected, six eyes infected (including one of my sweet Juju's little eyes), two sets of sinuses infected, one vomiting toddler, three trips to the doctor, and too many sore throats, achy muscles and headaches to count.  I could tell you I felt slightly robbed of my Babymoon with all of this medical mania---did I forget to mention taking girls to the dentist two days in a row during those first two weeks?-- and, at the same time, I felt bad that I was not tending fully to my sick children's needs.  I compromised by resorting to antibiotics where other remedies, promptly administered, might have worked.  But, you see, I wanted us all well AND I wanted to Baby-Gaze.  I wanted both of those things so much it made me ache.  Then I thought I was getting sick, but thanks be to God, I didn't.

I could tell you about Juju's early outings to her big brother's baseball tournament games-during those first two weeks.  Outings sitting on hard benches in the bright May sun and both of us enjoying the fresh air and the exciting plays, but both of us sorta wishing we were still at home just getting better acquainted.

I could tell you about this third week when my mother took ill and made two trips to the ER.  And how I am so very worried about her and so very helpless because she lives far away.  And how she and I are both so heartbroken because we don't know when she and Papa are going to get to meet little Juju.  And I could heap more on to that by telling you how worried we all were when this week we got the call that my father-in-law was also in the hospital for an unexpected surgery.  And how he, too, lives far away.

Then, I could mention that we have an exceptionally busy weekend ahead of us.  One which requires tremendous preparation and coordination and focused energy.  And I maybe could even slip in that the dishwasher just stopped working yesterday.  Just stopped.  And it was strange, because I felt like maybe I'd had a dream that that was going to happen. Or, some sort of premonition that a major appliance was about to fail me. 

There are a lot of other things I could tell you about these last three weeks.  But what I want to tell you and what I want to remember about these past weeks and, really, the whole month of May, is that I had an overwhelming feel of gratitude throughout all of it.  A vivid sensation of being loved, gifted, cared for and held, so vivid and strong that on several occasions, it moved me to tears.  You see, because while I was trying so frantically to balance baby-gazing and family health restoration, there were people here---friends, my dear mother-in-law---taking care of my children so that I could do the things I needed to do.  (As a bonus to childcare and hot meals, my mother-in-law is a baker extrodinaire!  Granny's visit = Maple Cookies and Yummy Bars!!) 

The things I needed to do were:  nap and stay horizontal a lot, nurse and Gaze at Baby Juju, change her diapers, rub GOOT on the bottoms of little feet, take people to the doctor and dentist, cheer on baseball games (even to the bitter and devastating end) and make sure everyone else knew they still had their spot in my heart.  Very Important Things, indeed.

And during all of that time, there were friends, acquaintances, neighbors, and even people whom I have never met, bringing meals by almost daily.  Delicious, ready-to-eat meals made lovingly just for us.  Without onions.  Because my children don't eat onions.  Anyway, I digress.  There were oh-such-fabulous meals and some still await us in the freezer, these friends were so generous.

And gifts.  See, cause if I'd stopped before I got to the good stuff, I wouldn't have told you about the Surprise Baby Shower.  And, boy, was I surprised!  There hasn't been a baby shower since Firstborn was, well, first born some thirteen years ago.  And why should there be?  I mean, you get your turn with that first baby and then life goes on.  But, those nice folks with whom we shared the hard bleachers for an entire season, all came to a tournament game with pink gift bags in tow and threw me a baby shower.  Onesies!  (I never did have any pink onesies, even after three daughters)  Dresses!  Rattles!  Quilts and blankets!  Diapers, diapers, diapers!!  The generosity cannot be captured in a few words.  I shed tears when I realized the scope of it. 

And graces.  So many graces.  A beautiful baptism with our beloved Fr. B---, even before Little Juju reached her two week birthday.  A thorough ceremony crowned by a sleeping babe on the altar at the feet of Our Lady.  A sight so beautiful, I could have stood there praying and admiring breathlessly for  hours, were it not for the plethora of friends who were waiting in the pews.  Wonderful friends who came out on short notice on a holiday afternoon to witness our littlest daughter's soul-cleansing sacrament and celebrated with us at a pretty little reception afterwards.  And more graces forthcoming:  My Rosebud making her long-awaited first confession this weekend and her First Holy Communion the next.  Such joy she has in her preparation and such longing to receive these sacraments.  A baptism, a first confession and a First Holy Communion all in the span a few weeks.  Such graces!

And even while my mother and father suffer through a terrible stomach infection and my father-in-law recovers from a heart surgery, at least I can report that in our household the health is restored.  There are a few teaspoons of anti-biotic left to squirt into little mouths, but the biggest complaint this week is all of the sore muscles that come from too many hours diving onto the slip-n-slide on the early hot days of June.  And, Baby, I'm tellin' you those are a good kind of ache...the kind of ache that represents good times, good memories, lots of laughs and even a little muscle building.  Not the aches that we are looking at in the rear view mirror...the ones that came with infections and nauseous bellies. 

The hard part of this week is a good hard:  preparing for a Summer Adventure.  Pushing through the hard work, errands, and long to-do lists, so that we can have a really Big Time.  Oooh, I can hardly wait for all the good times that await us on the other side of those piles of laundry, dishes, and cleaning supplies.  Really blessed rockin' Good Times.

And, as for those displaced dirty dishes?  I actually like washing dishes, it is a blessing-work.  Gives time for meditation, problem-solving, and prayer. 

But, I must confess that I put out a stack of paper plates for tomorrow.  'Cause, while I don't mind washing dishes, I have a long to-do list and a little more Baby Gazing to sneak in.