Saturday, October 20, 2012

Womb Hole

Just a few moments ago, I let myself feel, without judgment.  I let it go and smiled so deeply.  I don't even think its intensity manifested into an actual, physical smile.  It was buried within my soul.

My children are 17 and almost 14 years old.  Every year, at least once, I get these little "kicks" in my stomach.  If you've ever been pregnant, then only you can really REALLY relate, because nothing feels like a baby's kick...but a baby's kick.  They're rarely painful.  They're the sweetest surprises and reminders.

Tonight, I felt a "kick."  Normally, I dismiss it like it's not what I think, or rather what feel it is, but I couldn't this time.  It just didn't seem fair or authentic.  I always hide - run away from it.  This time, I wouldn't.  These moments are so rare and special to me.  I'm going to partially credit my early age hysterectomy to this treasure.  Whatever it may be, I love it so much and I can't wait for the next one. I can hardly wait for the next one.

This time, tonight, I exhaled during and after the kicks and let my wandering hand be.  It waywardly circled my tummy.  My eyes closed.  I let them stay that way, until it felt natural to open.  My tummy felt warm.  My hands, there are two of them now, stroked my semi-flat belly. And for those few precious minutes, memory lane was all mine.  The only passengers were me and my baby. The times I sang and read and cried and laughed and listened and prayed and wished and hoped to my baby in my belly came back to me.  They're alive.  Resurrected. Hallelujah. Amen.      

Wednesday, October 10, 2012

Call Kaiser

Last night, I popped over to my best friend's house, where our other bestie was, as well. Most of their kids were there.  Missing was my youngest nephew, who's 3.  Not sure where  he was though. Curious as I'm typing. Anyway, as kids do, they were butting into adult conversations.  The sending of the kids upstairs ensued.  If only it were that simple.

They left.  Seconds later, Ladybug, the elder of the cousins, was "crying," because her "leg was hurting."  No need to explain the quotations.  She's 8. I'll say that.  Annnnd, with THAT said you should already know the crying surely exceeded the supposed injury.  Her mom, eyes rolling, head shaking, snail's pace moving, went to her rescue. She was around the corner for a few minutes and the crying, still persistent, wasn't sufficiently subsiding. Shit was actually getting *louder.  I popped up, slightly entertained.  Rounding the corner and entering the foyer, I see my niece damn near stretched out across the floor and my bestie kneeling down "consoling her."

I asked Ladybug if she was okay and if she thought we needed to call Kaiser. Honayyyy, when I tell you she straightened up, she straightened the fuck up!!!!  Her beautiful bright eyes couldn't have **shone more.  She shook her head "no."  I left the room and guess what.  Her crying revved.  Having way more experience in parenting (because I got knocked up in college) and being increasingly entertained, I came back in the room, but not empty handed.  Ohhhhh no.  I'm a jokester - always have been.  Always will be.  I had their cordless, house phone in hand in plain sight.  Here's how that convo went:

Me:  Should we call Kaiser?

Ladybug:  (frightened) No, mommy.  No, aunt Tiffanie.  We don't need to call Kaiser.

Me:  Are you sure?  You look like you're in a lot of pain, Sweetie.  I'm calling.  (the neon color of the phone pad light up)

Ladybug:  NO! NO! I'm okay.  We don't need to call Kaiser!!!!!!!

Me:  Hmmmm, I'm calling.

My bestie:  Aunt Tiffanie, I don't think we need to call.  She said she's okay.

Ladybug: I don't need Kaiser, Aunt Tiffanie.

Me:  You're sure?!  I'm calling.  (faint beeps of the cordless and I fake call)

Ladybug:  I'm better!  I'm better!

I slowly walked away and back into the room where our other bestie was ON THE FLOOR DYING LAUGHING.  She was like "You ain't right.  You AIN'T right."

Shoot, in my opinion.  I was justified and pretty sure that Ladybug would think twice about faking an illness or least with me in sight.


*more annoying
**after visiting this page, I decided on "shone."