Memories...Misty water colored

I've been meaning to blog, but I don't know, life keeps getting in the way.

We have been keeping busy since the last day of school.
Family vacations, Dinosaur camp, Fourth of July, it's been quite hectic. I have still not completely unpacked from vacation, there are things everywhere, and I just feel unsettled.

One of the things I've been doing is I've been burning some cd's on my old computer, where all of my old pictures are stored. They have been cycling through as screen savers and bringing up old memories.

I cannot believe the boys are five! I cannot believe how big they are. They are so grown up.
As I look at the pictures pop up from the NICU, as Evan is being wheeled off into surgery by Peggy, the first time I held either of my babies (Ryan), the first time I held both of them, the machines, the wires, I wonder how we made it through that time, virtually unscathed.

Then I see them as babies, oh, those cheeks!

Then as toddlers, with no hair, but still with the cheeks!

They were such cute little babies, toddlers, oh, my heart aches looking at their adorableness.

Sometimes I feel like I missed out on so much of that time. It's a fog. Such a distant memory, yet so much of that time is crystal clear. The fear of "THE" phone call. The sights, sounds and smells of the NICU. The quiet of 3AM disturbed by the sound of a breast pump instead of a baby. The color of blue, black blue, it still makes me feel ill. The monitors going off in the middle of the night. None of that normal, none of those memories should STILL be so vivid, while the memories of first steps, first teeth, and first words, are so foggy.

It isn't right, but it is what it is. Thankfully, I have the pictures to jog my memory, and that I have the boys here making new ones daily.

And so it begins...

a lifetime of learning.
Today was it. The day I left my kids for their first day of school. Big day for us. The first time I've ever left my kids with someone other than family, (or nearly family) EVER. EVER. Let me make that clear. EVER!

I was very excited. It is time. It is time for them to learn from someone other than me. For them to have to follow directions from someone other than me. For them to learn to work things out with out me there to help. BUT...I've also been very worried about how this would go over. These boys haven't exactly been eager to be separated from me.

I prepared myself for the worst. Lots of tears, shrieking, hysterics.



We wandered off to our classroom, buckets (we decorated them ourselves) full of a change of clothes, including shoes (the extra pair of shoes threw me, I had to go buy them more shoes!) a bottle of water, and our special friends (Snoopy and Ringo).



We walked into their classroom where they were greeted by their awesome teacher, they learned how to put their buckets on the shelf and we washed their hands. By this time they were chomping at the bit to get to the stuff laid out to play with today. I saw shaving cream and trucks, but I didn't really look too closely. By the time they had their hands washed they were ready to play. I gave them each a kiss, and told them I would see them later. I got a "where are you going?" from Ryan, and a little look of worry, but I told him I would see him later, and off I went...to wait in the church courtyard...to wait for all hell to break loose...for the tears and hysterics.

I waited for an hour.

And then I went home and waited with my cell phone close at hand for two more hours.

And then I went to pick them up.


All of the parents waited anxiously at the door waiting for it to open. We signed up for snack days, and looked at pictures from the days activities. Then in turn we each stepped into the classroom while Mrs. F asked the class "who does this Mommy belong to?" and we each got to watch as our kids eyes lit up and smiles came across their faces. Ryan couldn't wait until I got to his seat, he came running over to give me a hug and knocked me to the floor. We went over to where they were sitting and Ryan let Evan in to hug me too. Evan was so excited, SO EXCITED. His feet were dancing and he was hugging and kissing me, and he was making this noise he makes when he is really happy. It's hard to describe, kind of a high pitched moan, or a mew? He was so, so happy to see me.

It was this moment that almost made me lose it. I was really happy to see them too.

We got home and during lunch we talked about what they did in school.

This is some of what they had to say:

Ryan: My water spilled two times, I said oops.
Ryan: We had cereal for snack.
Ryan: We didn't dance with bean bags. (Me: Mrs. F said that you did) No, (shakes head) We DIDn't
Ryan: I didn't want to do it. (the bean bag dance) I picked a chair and sat down in it.
Evan: I writed (Me: You wrote?) Yes, I writed. (Me: what did you write?) 17.
Ryan: Sometimes we color at school
Evan: I danced with bean bags and I stood up.
Evan: We pretended our buddies were bean bags. (Me: Ah ha! You didn't use bean bags with the bean bag dance, you used your buddies! Is that right Ryan?)
Evan: YES! and we POPPED them into the air!

This evening I gave them their Schultuete. I read about these "first day of school cones" in a blog a couple of years ago and filed it away as a neat tradition to start with the kids. I was going to give them to the boys before school, and then one of the mom's I know suggested that they might not want to leave to go to school after they got all of their treats, so I adapted.





Scott also thought to get the boys a special treat!!!! Look at how excited Evan is to get his "American Flag" hackey sack. He promptly asked if he could take it to bed. I said yes, and he replied, "Now I'll have two hackey sacks in bed!"


I love how simple things make these kids so darn happy. I wish you could bottle that joy. I guess the next best thing is to have your kids share their happiness with you each and every day.

Two weddings and a NICU

Two years ago, we had an addition to our family. No, not a baby or a pet. If I'm being perfectly honest, this addition came into our lives many years earlier. October 5, 2002. That just so happens to be the date we had two more additions to our family. Wow, this is getting confusing.

Here's what happened: Back in October 2002, Shelley, Scott's sister, married Todd. Therefore, Todd and Cassie (Todd's Daughter) became a permanent part of our family, whether they liked it or not.

On that same day, Scott's brother, Eric, decided to bring a "date" to Shelley's wedding. Okay are all of your warning bells going off. Who brings just a "date" to his sister's wedding. Yeah, the entire family was a twitter. If it wasn't the upcoming nuptials being discussed, it was this mysterious "date" Eric was bringing.

To shorten the story by about 10,000 words. Mary came to Shelley's wedding, fit in perfectly. Did not miss a beat, on the dance floor, or keeping up with this sarcastic, crazy family. She survived the wedding, and the three week European vacation with the entire clan, we decided to keep her and she's been with us ever since. (can't shake the girl)

So, now back to TWO years ago today, Eric and Mary were married.

Two years ago, Ryan and Evan were still permanent residents of the Infant Special Care Center.

Two years ago, a sobbing Mother walked was dragged out of the Infant Special Care Center, to catch a plane to Oakland, to drive to picturesque Healdsburg, to participate in Maric's very special day. (oh, everyone in our family has combined names. Shelley, Todd and Madison= Shoddison. Scott and Janice = Scanice. I don't think we've come up with our name including the boys. Have I mentioned that this family is oddcute?)

I wouldn't have missed it for the world, but...as I sat there holding my babies, the thought of being away from them for more than a few hours, was killing me. You see, until this day, I had never gone a day with out seeing my boys. I'd been with them, EVERY. DAY. for four months. I made the trek to the hospital each and every day for four months. I sat by their beds, every day for four months. I KNEW they'd be safe. I'd made sure that our primary nurses were on duty for the weekend. We were going to be back Sunday morning. It was only one day.

In the world of the NICU, one day could be critical. In the NICU, one hour could be critical. You just never know. In one day a preemie can go from stable to critical, it changes that quickly. The only reason I could leave those boys, and go on plane, (where I'd be unreachable) was the knowledge that our primary nurses would be with them. They were the only people that knew those better than us. (Well, they didn't know them better, but they knew them and they have far more medical training than Scott or I, so really, they were safer with them than anywhere.) Funny, it still makes me sweat just a little to think about leaving them in the NICU alone.

It was really good for us to get away, to be with family, celebrating. The ceremony took place overlooking a vineyard, there was great food, dancing, laughter, and lots of love. The bride was gorgeous, the groom handsome. There was nary a dry eye in the place during the ceremony.

Scott and I spent a full day, breathing. Not focused on skin color, or numbers flashing on a monitor, or how many ML's someone ate. We were able to focus on the end game. We were able to recharge, relax and gear up for the home stretch.

Most importantly, we were there to share this with two very special people...
...and the boys were just fine.

Not my Mother's fried rice

I think all Asian families have fried rice as a staple. For my family we usually had fried rice on Sunday mornings, it was either that, or omelets over rice. My Mom would make it with left over rice, bacon, bologna, and onions. Although it is called 'fried' rice, my Mom never used oil, (who needs oil when you are frying bacon!) so the 'fried' in our fried rice was always the frying pan it was cooked in. My favorite part of the meal was the crispy bottom. My Mom would let it cook at a low heat until the rice got nice and brown, it had to be scraped off the bottom of the pan, yum, my mouth is watering just thinking about it.

Ryan has found a obsessive love of rice. He loved to eat it off of my chopsticks. Now that he is asserting his independence, he eats it with his hands and a fork. Almost every day he asks for rice. I've taken to making HUGE batches of fried rice and freezing it just so I have some on hand. (I took a picture of the two frying pans full, but it doesn't look that appetizing so just imagine two large frying pans full of rice.)

Every time I make fried rice for Ryan, I think about just how different my version is from my Mother's.

I use chicken breasts, organic green beans, organic carrots, and any other organic vegetables I can throw in there. I would never consider nitrate laden processed lunch meat! I do however make sure there is a nice crispy layer, and it is Ryan's favorite part too.