Two Left Feet

Leave it to my son...the ever so graceful one...the one who spends more time tripping over his two feet than standing on them. Today I got a phone call from Robbie stating that Tate had fallen on the playground and cut his chin open. This was my first mommy trauma. I was able to keep it together until I got to the car. I just didn't know what to expect when I arrived at his school. I walked into his classroom and there sat Tate in the front of all the kids watching a movie as if nothing had happened. They said that he barely even cried. I took him to the Children's Hospital. He sat on my lap with his Spider Man blanket and watched cartoons until they took us back. The ceiling tiles were painted with characters so he was quickly distracted. They changed him into the cutest junior hospital gown and we laid there watching cartoons until the doctor arrived. They numbed his chin and then strapped him down in order to stitch him up quickly. I think he woke up every patient in that hospital while they were holding him down putting the stitches in. As soon as he was free, he began to explain to me what THAT man and THAT lady did to him by squeezing his legs and face. He could not understand what had just happened and to Tate that is pure torture. We left the hospital, red popsicle in hand, talking about the lady that wouldn't let his legs go and how he wanted a corndog for dinner. He now sleeps peacefully in his bed with Dora bandaid in place.

Bay

My favorite part of the day is after bath time. We always get the kids in their p.j.s, lay on the "reading rug" on our bellies and read a favorite book. After that, I turn off the lights (except for the pink nightlight, of course). Lily and I sit in the rocking chair and sing her "Cheer up Lily Bean" song. The sweetest part about it is when she sings the words ever so softly where it is barely audible. She then asks me to say her "pairs" and we go through our "Now I lay me down to sleep..." The last part of the nighttime ritual is the request for her side companion, Bay, a white silky blanket that has been dragged on the ground for the past two years. She pulls Bay over her face and the last sound I hear from my daughter each night is a hearty giggle from beneath Bay's shelter. "Oh what can it mean to a daydream believer?"

Drooping Lily

Poor O'Bryan household has come down with illness. Lily has RSV and Tate has a sinus infection. Robbie was the blessed soul to stay home with the kids today and tomorrow and I will be home next week. Lily can't return to school until Tuesday at the earliest. I called Robbie this afternoon and the kids were running around the kitchen yelling for something to eat. That's the thing about kids when they are sick...you can't ever tell. We are hoping the RSV is on the mild side because it can get pretty serious including labored breathing. I'm hoping both kids can get a good night's sleep and let the rest get them better. In the meantime, I have to figure out to get a four year old to take cough medicine.

A Pat on the Back

The preschool director stopped Robbie in the hall on his way to the kids' classroom. She told Robbie that she wanted to tell him what she had observed earlier in the day. She went downstairs to check on the four year old classes and walked in to see Tate with his arm around a little boy in this class. The touching part about the scenario is that the little boy is mentally challenged and was having a tough time finishing the activity. While the rest of the four year olds were going about their own business, Tate had stopped to help him. She said that it was as if Tate sensed he needed help so he went over and put his hand around his back. Of course when Robbie told me this story while I was driving home, I started to cry. He's such a special little guy.

Sock Pockets

I have just returned from a basketball game at my school. For the second night in row, I found my unmatched socks basket in the middle of my living room floor. I would find this odd enough in its own right, but it seems that my kids have found a new way to entertain themselves. I picked up the basket to start matching the socks and found five stuffed animals snuggly placed inside the socks. So, I asked Tate why he had put Cupid the dog and the Blushing Bears inside the socks. His answer was, "Mom, they wanted to be in their sock pockets for bed". So...now I know. (Smile)

Monster Spray

Since we have returned from Disney World, Tate has been waking up 2 or 3 times every night. His middle of the night antics would be quite humorous if it weren't three in the morning. Last week, he informed me that there were three monsters eating pizza in his bed and he couldn't sleep because they were too loud. What's a mother to say to that? Enter Uncle Bobo...stage right. Four days ago a package appeared on the front porch with Tate's name on it. Inside was an empty spray bottle and a proclamation. The proclamation stated that inside the spray bottle was magic dust that when mixed with warm water would create magic monster spray that would keep monsters out of his bedroom. So...every night before prayers and Goodnight Moon, we hoist Tate up on our shoulders and let him spray his "monster spray" one time over the door. Problem Solved