Sunday, February 22, 2015

Corner of Happiness

This little girl. So funny. 

She absolutely loves this little corner of her closet - eh - nursery. She full on coos and sings and kicks those legs. 

That black and white dress? Oh, it's her BFF. She chats it up coffee-talk style almost every diaper change. Then, she'll turn to the patterned wallpaper and act like it's a reunion years overdue. 

Then, if she's feeling really good, she look up and give a quick whaddup to her chalk board. 

It's hilarious to watch. I feel like I'm intruding sometimes. 

I've tried to recreate a similar corner of happiness in her crib. 

Basically, she told me it's not the same. And to stop. 

Friday, February 20, 2015

Seeing Spencer

We've had lotsa Spencer visitors in the few short months since her birth.

She's met and been on loved by her Grandparents, Uncle Gary and Aunt Ashly - twice! She met her cousin Lorenzo, her Aunt Lauren, and a bunch of Mom and Dad's buds.

Meantime, the hospitality of our friends and family continues. The occasional cleaning and cooking and bringing of the sometimes dinner and snacks. The holding of the baby. The checking in and checking on. Even the cards and little goodies we get in the mail. There's all kinds of support. 

It's pretty great.

Bright Eyes

This is a sight to see in the morning. Spence with her bright, beautiful eyes!

She's such a beauty. I'm allowed to say that about my own kid, right?

My gorgeous little baby-muffin. 

Thursday, February 19, 2015

To the Twentysomething Aide...

... who is giving my husband the side-eye, stink-eye and rolling of the eyes:

I have some stuff to write in your direction. 

I'm know it may be difficult to come to work where the person you help take care of sometimes can be grumpy. Sometimes raises his voice. Sometimes loses his patience. Sometimes is angry.  And, really, sometimes the wife can be a little controlling and nosy too.

I'm sorry it's not pleasant all of the time, every day you come to work. 

When I come in to talk to my husband, I can see the looks of annoyance upon your face and it helps me to realize that this is just a job for you. A place to report to. A place get in and out as soon as possible. A quick paycheck. And, really that's okay. It's just a little more for us.  

It makes me thankful for our caretakers who do get it. Who can forgive and look past and cultivate an environment that helps Jimmy be less angry, grumpy and upset. Who are nurturing. Who are better at hiding their looks of annoyance on the inside, if in fact, that look exists.

You see, Young Aide: Jimmy wakes up each day to the realization that it's not just a bad dream. That he can't just get out of bed. He can't do anything without assistance. He wakes up that everyday. And some days it's easier to deal than others.

We let caretakers into our home to help us with this huge task of helping this particular human function - because he needs help. We need help. Plain and simple. 

He lets two caretakers come into his bedroom every morning, his worst time of day. He is in pain usually, from laying the same way for the last five or so hours. He's stiff. He's sore. He probably hasn't slept much at all. That's a safe bet. 

He's not looking forward to you moving him in every which way, rolling, pulling, stretching, yanking - virtually sucking all the energy he could have had throughout his day. He knows it must be done, however. He wants to get out of bed and get dressed each day. It's something. Even if he can do much else all day. He gets up and gets dressed. 

Jimmy faces some serious fatigue. This injury kicks his ass, most days. 

He's tired, Young Aide. He's tired physically and mentally.  He just wants to go back to sleep. He wants to wake up as he used to, three and a half years ago with his feet hitting the floor each and every morning. He doesn't ever say it... I can just see it.

His realization with the rising of each new sun is that it's not gonna happen. 

Sure we've come a long way in grieving and acceptance. We dealt. We've adjusted. We've acclimated. But understand, Young Aide, that while we're grateful for your help, we're clawing and gasping trying to make it through each day, well after you leave. 

We're facing daily challenges that we couldn't have imagine we'd once be facing. Two incredibly happy, clueless newlyweds... 

The wedding pictures you walk past each morning you work, those people were so happy and naive. Even working in the brutal biz that is the news biz. There's a sense of, "It can't happen to you. You're the ones who report on all of the bad things happening. You're on the other side of it." 

Can I just be weepy and whiny and say that it's so hard? This summer will mark four years since The Flying Tire. It's still can be so hard. 

I feel like if you knew, you'd understand and maybe you'd have a warm ember in your heart for what Jimmy deals with each day.  

We're doing it, Young Aide. Most days we make it look easy to outsiders. 

But in reacting the way you do, you teach us that the world doesn't revolve around our injury, although we get sucked into feeling that way sometimes. Life goes on. Not everyone has the embery feelings regarding our injury and our situation. And, really, that's okay. It thickens our injured skin. 

So maybe we're teaching each other a little something. 

Monday, February 16, 2015

Two Chairs

This sweet moment happened when we were waiting for dinner to cook, tonight. 

This baby has super magical powers over her Dadda. But, really, who didn't see that coming?  

PS) It was one year ago today I found out I was pregnant with Spencer!