So every time, before I write a new post, I check my favorite blogs, Catherine’s, Beck’s, Aline’s, Tamra’s; I visit their links, go to Stephanie Meyer’s website, Mothering… After a couple of hours, I don’t remember what I wanted to write about, or my ideas seem so flat compared to the writing of the talented writer’s I just visited online. But all day, my mind is creating poetry. When I look at my kids, or have a flash of inspiration, I instantly think “I’ll post that tonight!”. It’s way past my bedtime, but I had to write tonight. I’m tired and really excited this time because tomorrow we’re leaving to see Gorgeous Boricua, my husband! All week was spent planning what to pack (luckily we’re flying JetBlue; they still allow one free piece of luggage), packing, taking the dogs to be groomed, shopping, going to the E.R., getting my nails done, soccer camp. What? Are you curious about the E.R. visit? Here’s the tale I wanted to tell you all day:


Saturday, 7 June 2008
Today we spent a wonderful morning with my dear sister-in-law. She’s married to GB’s older brother, so it’s always a ton of fun to talk about the boys. In spite of their age difference (10 years) they’re so much alike!!!! The children had a blast playing with their cousins. V’s younger boy is 9, and her youngest (a girl) is 7. Her older boy K is an awesome cousin. He’s 15 (?) and loves to entertain the younger kids. I think my Chubbers has a little crush on him. One day I’ll fulfill your “wildest dreams” (1) and tell you about my crush with my cousin when I was little. Oh, but I digress… Well, they actually came to pick up our dog Dandi to babysit her while we’re gone. Aren’t they awesome? After we laughed, ate lunch, and they left, my Beautiful Boy was getting Coco’s (our other dog) stuff from the yard. We were taking him to my mom’s. I heard a shattering noise, and nothing else. I froze in my kitchen, waiting, I don’t know for what. Maybe for a “mamy help” or something. But my baby didn’t say a word. I looked outside, and there he was, in his own universe, staring at the broken ceramic dish and his bleeding foot. “What happened? Are you hurt?” I must have said the right words because he woke up from his reverie, and started crying. He walked and left a trail of bloody footprints. I carried him and sat him on the counter. I realized he needed stitches, and maybe a, gasp!, vaccine, and called who else?, my dear neighbor to please come watch my children while I took my firstborn to the E.R. He was terrified of going to the hospital, and he only calmed down when he realized we were just going to the Urgent Care clinic by Wal-Mart. He needed 3 stitches. No broken toes. No vaccine (the Dr., an older man, said he’s never seen a tetanus case in all his career). No soccer camp today and no sports for a week. No pool either. But Gorgeous just kept crying, and finally in a thread of voice, with anguished brown eyes, he asked, “Why did it have to happen the day before we left to see papa?” So there it was. He thought we wouldn’t be able to travel. His father reassured him over the phone, and he relaxed. But he stayed so emotional throughout the day! After pizza and banana splits I took everyone to my mom’s so I could go to Target to get a couple of things I needed. I got him the latest “Magic Tree House” book. He cried of happiness when I gave it to him, and he declared, “Tomorrow on the plane I’m not playing Nintendo! I’m reading this book!” He’s truly my son after all. Braver, nobler, happier, but a little like me after all. I want to be more like him. I least I love to read too. I’m getting there.
So there’s my story for the day. I’m gonna finish uploading my audio-books to the computer so I can have them on my ipod. We’re obviously going to the end of the world. Both my carry-ons are crammed with books (from “The Motherly Art of Breastfeeding” to “Romeo and Juliet”) and cameras and ipods. I decided to leave my yarn and knitting needles behind. But what snacks? More diapers? What else do I need? I’m sure I’ll think of it and pack it just in case, and pay $200 of extra luggage. I do it every time.
1. The quote if from “Napoleon Dynamite”. One of the silliest but funniest movies of all time.
I haven’t provided links. I’m too tired/lazy tonight (this morning) but you can find the blogs on the side bar, and Mothering is just mothering.com, and Stephenie Meyer is just stepheniemeyer.com. Ahhhh! I just thought of Edward…