As I mentioned a few days ago, I have been recovering from an emergency surgery for the past 2 weeks.  Everything about this experience has been challenging.

Physically, getting over a surgery stinks big time.  Regrowing blood from lots of blood loss is more exhausting than I can describe.

For me, though, the biggest challenge is always asking for help.  I am really, really bad at asking for help.  (I didn't even join a study group in law school.  I was all, Nah.  I'll just LEARN ALL THE THINGS by myself.)

And so, the experience of this emergency and the surgery and the recovery is being defined, at least to me, by the help we've asked for, the help that has been provided, and the easy love that we've received from our village.

My dear dad drove me to the emergency room so that we didn't send our children into years of therapy by making them watch an ambulance cart Mommy away.

Andy just happened to be in town from Pennsylvania for work.  So, of course, he came to our house and watched the kids so that Durel could jet to the hospital to see me before surgery.  Oh, and he didn't just hang out with Jack.  He taught him to play chess. 

 

Cristy dropped everything and flew to Austin.  She arrived from Albuquerque a few hours after I got home from the hospital.  She walked Jack to school, made me breakfast burritos, and kept us going for those first days home.

Jenny dropped everything and flew to Austin.  She arrived from Delaware the day after Cristy departed.  She walked Jack to school, made me breakfast burritos, made sure I napped enough, and kept us going for the next days home.

Liz brought me a delicious lunch and freezer-friendly dinner, even though she's 9 months pregnant and I should be making her dinners, not the other way around.

Jen and Trevor knew, before Durel and I even realized it, that the best gift for us may be quiet time. And so, they whisked Jack off to the pumpkin patch with their family on a balmy Texas afternoon.  (Durel, Sawyer, and I promptly slept the entire time our little dynamo was gone.  I mean, has anyone had a five year old boy wear a Fitbit?  I would love to know how many steps that kid gets in.  My guess is like 40,000 a day.)

Megan brought me coffee and donuts and changed poopy diapers when I couldn't lift Sawyer and the rest of my boys were on the soccer fields.

I am so lucky.  To be alive.   (This was a life-threatening event.)  To have these friends (and everyone else that I didn't specifically mention, thank you).  To have this family.  To have safe and accessible health care. (I didn't say affordable.  Ambulance rides cost a grand a pop, by the way.  HEYOO, deductible.)  

I'm about to turn 40.  A friend asked me how I felt about it.  I told her that I think it's fantastic.  I get to be 40.  And I'm lucky for that, too.

Hope someone lifts you up today.

Talk soon,

Heather

steps

Sawyer is walking.  Huzzah!

When he feels like it, that is.

Jack is in an after-school running club called the Stallion Stampede.  The kids' miles are tallied annually and also linked with their membership to Marathon Kids, an AMAZING local charity that just received funding from Nike and is going BIG TIME!

He's pretty fast.

As for me, I am on the mend.  Roughly two weeks ago, I underwent emergency surgery to repair a ruptured ectopic pregnancy, which happened despite the fact that my tubes were tied.  That's both rare and dangerous.  The good news is that I'm on the road to recovery. 

Hope you step toward a goal today.

Talk soon,
Heather

oh say can you see

Last night, my parents came over for dinner.  We had a great time.  We ordered Chinese.  Jack, in his inimitable style, ate seaweed and cucumber salad, shu mai, and a crab rangoon.  We chatted and laughed, caught up on life, and enjoyed one another's company.

Jack finished his dinner before the rest of us and went to play in the living room until the (dreaded) announcement of bedtime.  

Shortly thereafter, I saw something in the living room catch Durel's eye.  I turned to look.

The football game was beginning.  The national anthem was being performed.  Jack had stopped his play to stand quietly with his hand on his heart and listen.

Oh my God.

I hopped up and joined him without saying a word.

Durel wasn't far behind.  We stood, together, hands over our hearts.

I was filled with pride and gratitude.

Hope you feel pride and gratitude today.

Talk soon,

Heather

the state of the sawyer

With all the buzz about kinder in these parts, it's important to remember the other little dude who amazes and delights us on the daily.  We are 17 months into life as a family of four, and there is no way our family would be complete without the mellow cuteness of Sawyer.

For Sawyer, a perfect day would be spent eating three or four breakfasts, unplugging some things, playing with electrical sockets, getting stuck in tight corners, two or three lunches, crawling up the stairs, beating on the dogs like drums, crawling into any kitchen cabinets he could get into.  And you know, anything else that came up and seemed interesting.

Sawyer has little interest in walking.  He walks on his knees, fully upright, carrying things, huge grin on his face.  His little knees are red and calloused.  He cares not.

Apparently, you don't need to be on your feet to rock a splash day.

Sawyer loves the dogs.  And they love him right back.

Let me be clear:  Pablo spent the first two + years of Jack's life in the backyard because he found it stressful and infuriating in equal parts to have a small dictator in the house.  Sawyer's mellow demeanor and Pablo's increasing maturity seem to gel well together.

Sawyer loves Jack.  Sawyer's first wish each day is to wake Jack up by crawling on him while he pretends to sleep.  Sometimes, he'll even fart on Jack's head.  Sawyer's delight at playing with Jack means that he will tolerate "wrestling," even when it makes Mom nervous.

Sawyer's love of Jack means that he will even do hard time with him just to be close.

Hell.  He'll even bring a dinosaur.  Just in case time out requires a bronchiosaurus.

Hope somebody has your back today, and doesn't even have gas.

Talk soon,
Heather

the one where chickens are mentioned a lot

Back in the day, I was a big 10,000 Maniacs fan.  Laura Werther and I went to see them at the University of Delaware when we were in high school.  Natalie Merchant *spoke to me* you guys.

I am incapable of mentioning the University of Delaware without giving a proper shout out to their mascot, the Fightin' Blue Hen, known locally as the Ass Kickin' Chicken.

These are days you'll remember.

*     *     *     *     * 

In some sort of frantic emotional preparation for Jack starting kindergarten in LIKE TWO WEEKS, he and I have had a few "Mommy and Jack Days."  

We had one on Friday.  It was pretty rad.

We took coffee and breakfast to Grammy and Pop.  Jack waited patiently while we discussed the previous evening's Republican primary debate.  (Ah, so much to talk about.)  He then regaled us with stories of the solar system, which were accurate, detailed, and articulate -- and promptly blew my parents' minds.

We went to the movies and reclined our posh seats and had yummy lunch.  We saw "Shaun the Sheep," which was funny and adorable.  Jack like the burping part the best.

Then, you guys.  We went back to school shopping.  In the grand Davies tradition, we went to the Gap.  OH, how I have memories of our annual pilgrimage to the retail bastion that is Christiana Mall.  (It is also in Delaware, home of tax-free shopping and aforementioned ass kickin' chickens.)  

I had a totally trippy parent moment as I indoctrinated Jack into his preppy legacy.  

 

Clearly, indoctrination suits him.

We rounded out the day with a treat.  I attempted to pitch to Jack his first hot fudge sundae, thinking that this would be a fitting milestone in a day of big moments.  He eyed me skeptically.

Jack:     What's a hot fudge sundae?

Me:       It's a big dish of ice cream, with hot chocolate sauce on top, and whipped cream, and nuts, and a cherry!

Jack:     I just want ice cream.

Me:       Well, do you want chocolate sauce on it?

Jack:     Yes!

Me:       Do you want a cherry on it?

Jack:     Yes!

Me:       So...you sort of do want a hot fudge sundae?

Jack:     No!

Me:       So...you don't want the whipped cream and the nuts?

Jack:     No way.

Me:       Right.  

Hope your day is free of nuts and has the appropriate amount of chickens.

Talk soon,

Heather