Posted on January 19, 20141/18/14
I remember around this time last year, my third grade team met for our weekly meeting. Rather than beginning right away with discussions of assessments and teaching strategies, we spent a few moments around that table as nothing more than abunch of moms. In those few moments; I learned the most effective methods of removing Vaseline from a toddlers hair, how to clean vomit out of carpets and furniture, the fastest way to bring down fevers, among other things. Through the laughter, I mentioned (as a still somewhat new mommy), "I'm really lucky. V is a very healthy baby, he's only been on an antibiotic once." The room fell silent as all the moms looked at me in complete shock. One suggested I better knock on wood, and fast. The others laughed in agreement. I wish I would have listened. I buzzed my son's head today.
Earlier, we inserted something called an OG tube through V's nose and into his stomach. The doctors decided that it's time to get more aggressive about this poop thing, so they brought out the big guns: Go Lytely (you may be familiar with this liquid if you've ever had a colonoscopy). Adults would be expected to drink this terrible stuff within a certain amount of time, but Mr. V is just barely two and can't even take cherry flavored medicine without it coming back up. The OG tube acts as a direct line to the stomach. We've been pushing this fluid into his belly for several hours, and his tummy decided it had had enough. As I wiped the vomit off his chin and removed his soaking wet pajama top, I asked V, "are you okay, Buddy?" He began to answer by nodding his head, but the Go Lytely interrupted him by forcing it's way out of his mouth once more. V took a deep breath, swallowed, and then continued his nod as he said in the most sweetest of voices, "uh huh." The pure innocence and forgiveness that I find in him literally stops me in my tracks and takes my breath away.
Once we were finally clean, I lay him back down in the clean sheets and stroked the skin that only yesterday was covered with hair. I sang the song that I do each night, and when I finished; V rolled towards me, grabbed my hand and said, "Mommy, go ni-night." As if the events of today and tonight are completely normal. Well, I suppose they are these days.