Gogo, too?

"It's kinda like I love you, but it's SNOT!"  (get it?)  YoYo's favorite joke.  Thank you, mystery infection/cold thing.

Well, we had our first freakishly scary episode with the little man.  I left for the grocery store the first evening of our elephantine antibiotic round, and Shane called me 20 minutes later, asking, "Can you please come home right now?" in a voice that frightened me.  He'd left YoYo on the couch to start dinner, and a strange behavioral episode ensued which seemed an awful lot like a seizure.  When he couldn't get YoYo to respond (no eye contact, no body language, no vocal response), he was terrified.  We paged and paged our pediatrician, unwilling to risk a visit to the ER to explain to some random intern our little man's laundry list of rare issues that may or may not coincide with this kind of thing.  The good doctor reassured us, and as YoYo drifted off to an exhausted, sicky-boy sleep, we breathed sighs of relief.

Of course, there is nothing that YoYo goes through that GoGo shouldn't go through, so it happens that GoGo's ear fell off suddenly and without explanation-unless you count, "I don't know.  I just kissed him and his ear came off."  (I can't tell you how many times I've heard that one.)  I donned a stethoscope and played doctor as GoGo came to the Kitchen Table Memorial Hospital (complete with 3-year-old-siren blaring, thank you).  

After a shot and a good sewing-up, GoGo let YoYo trim his paws for good measure, and then he had the kind of cleaning that I think may only be able to happen one or two more times before he is beyond repair (oh, please, God, give us some years before we get there).  Hovering over the bathroom sink with homemade soap and a lice comb (the only thing that could comb out the pills in his fleece), I suddenly remembered all the times I wanted to give a special doll or stuffed animal a bath and grooming that would make him as good as new. So when this turned out really well, I took a picture.  Is it me, or does GoGo look a little indignant?

I feel like I'm learning to breathe.  I worry so much about doing the wrong thing that when we're around friends, I bring YoYo up short constantly--I'm so afraid he'll push another kid or break something that belongs to someone else or cause a fuss--and I've always been afraid of that for me, too.  When we went to the theater for the first time on our own, my brother and I nearly killed each other because I wanted us to be so perfect in our behavior that I jumped on him for every breath he took!  So today, I didn't fuss when YoYo wrote all over his palms, or when he stuck the ball-point pen in the screwdriver hole on his table, or when he wiped his mirror til it was cloudy with a fresh wet wipe.  He's trying to experiment with so much, and I am so ingrained in 15 years of not having a kid that I'm used to focusing only on what I think needs to get done.

Mercy.

p.s. I took every box I could find in the house and shed last night and made a "train" in the living room.  He's crammed every toy and stuffed animal he owns in there.  And it makes him happy!  He made tickets for all the animals to board the train and is counting them into a bag.

he feels "yucky"

Alas, we're in the throes of our first honest-to-goodness sickness. Two weeks ago, we walked into preschool to see a little girl look up from the craft table and say (snotto-voce), "I don't feel so good." Seconds later, as she curled in a rocking chair in the fetal position, YoYo proudly assumed her craft-table post to make his mommy the finest valentine in the land. All I could think was, "Here it comes."

Sure enough, within 24 hours, it came. For both of us. I felt B-L-A-H. Meanwhile, captain snotty-nose seemed none the worse for wear-no fever, just a cold, right? I waited a few days and gave him kiddy mucinex for a week. I WAS NOT going to overreact. I was NOT taking him to the Doc to hear, "Yeah, not much we can do. Make sure he drinks a lot."

Until last night. It's been two weeks. He was sounding better, and this morning at 5-God-is-not-even-awake-yet-a-blessed-m, he woke up coughing. And the cough had that really nasty sound only little kids can get. And he was soooooo hot. 102, in fact. We headed to the Doc as soon as his office opened. PS, I won the lottery-it was Doc's first day in a new office-let's not talk about the havoc at the front desk, or how much they wanted to kill me for asking them to "work us in."

He is so pitiful. His antibiotic dosage is so large, it alarmed the pharmacist, who double-checked with Doc before she'd even let us take it home. We had to beg/bribe/threaten him to drink anything, and he barely ate. He slept a lot. While the nurse oohed and ahhed over his good behavior after an hour's wait, I thought, "Yeah, he must feel BAD to be this compliant." When he turned down gyoza (dumplings) AND McDonald's for lunch, I considered taking him back and demanding he be admitted to the hospital.

Instead, while he sleeps, I will pay tribute to our incredible little man. With photos.

These are from an installation he did in the living room the other week. He asked for little paper, scrawled a design on each page, laid the pages out in a serpentine line, then added a car to each page. It was so methodical. I don't know if you can tell from the detail, but he placed each car in an alternate direction. It took time, and I watched the whole thing. Christian Boltanski, we are coming soon.

Shane's cousin Eli (our other "Baby Boy") has been back and forth to our house from Cincinnati several times in the last few months as he makes college plans and prepares to move down here. YoYo loves him. LOVES him. Which delights me-I don't know if you can see E's gauges, but when YoYo first met him, those ear-bobs were accompanied by a nose ring and two lip piercings, and a tattoo gallery. Was our little guy afraid? Nope. In fact, he was inspired...

...and decided he should take up nudie-bear bongo drumming. I don't think I can post that one...yet.

Feel better, Little Bear!

This Just Happened

That title felt like a sentence out of a Tian Yo Pooh book when I wrote it.  You know, the sort of sentence where Piglet looks out of his tree at the rising waters and thinks I'm All Alone and I'm Going to Die Like This? What The Heck?  or Eeyore loses his tail and thinks Aftermarket Parts aren't All They're Cracked Up to Be.

But I Digress-and I hope you noticed that our book series is Tian Yo Pooh, not the inferior Winnie, because of course one of the ayis read Pooh to YoYo very often, each time pointing to ursa crocinus and calling him "Tian Yo."  That's going to be a letdown in a few years-I'm more worried about it than the "Talk About Santa" thing.

Anyway.

Here's the photo.  It looks innocent, to be sure, but it contains a meaning that has unraveled my life.  All the travel and prayer leading up to adoption, all the changes of heart, the struggles with the agency, the cliffhangers, the nights without sleep, the earthquakes (you knew I'd tag that again), the strategic appearances in government newspapers, it all was leading TO THIS. The moment when my son lines his letters up on the refrigerator, and in a make-two-syllables-from-one-syllable-words voice that's a dead giveaway for one of his preschool teachers, says, "Children, I have a surprise for you today.  Can you guess what it is?"  I turn from my laptop, filled with laughter (and terror), to see his head tilted JUST LIKE HIS TEACHER and his hands clasped in front of him JUST LIKE HIS TEACHER.  He is even mimicking her smile.  

I sneak the camera out, and he instantly has a dog "mask" on his head.  So Baba can see it in the picture.  He wants a costume, people.

Clearly I have underestimated this little bear.

New Kid in Town

So, it's about time.  I'm finally posting about my "little" sister's first baby!  I can't tell you how much we've burned up the road between Franklin, TN, and SC for this little girl!  The week of baby Reagan's arrival alone, we drove to my folks' house, then to Columbia and back three times, to Charlotte and back once, and to Asheville and back once before coming home.  Grand total?  Somewhere near 21oo miles in 9 days.  YoYo is a SAINT-that little boy never cried once, although he did ask, "Are we almost there?" roughly once per mile.  We listened to his Muppets CD nearly 32 times.  I kid you not.

He was a little concerned in the hospital.  When he saw Andrea (shortly before the baby arrived), he said, "I don't like baby Reagan.  I don't want her to come out."  When he saw her the first time, he said, "She's no good."  If you look at the pic, you can tell Andrea's the pretty one of the two Willard sisters.  

Uncle Craig (my "little" brother) surprised all by flying in from Boston-picking him up was its own adventure.  Needless to say, when he rode with us to see the young Seay family the day after Reagan went home from the hospital, Uncle Craig had to pull double duty.  He was doting Uncle Craig, tender with baby (I wish to goodness I could find the pic of him "eating" the baby), and wild Uncle Craig, tireless on the playground with a wide-open Tian Yo.  

Finally, YoYo came around--and around and around--as Uncle Tyson spun him in a chair.  Shortly afterwards, he said, "I love baby Reagan."  The spin therapy had worked.  When he finally let me hold Reagan without yelling, "No, that's MY Mama!" he stroked her arm very gently and whispered, "I don't want to break her."

PS-for those who wondered, YES, the three of us look ridiculously similar.