The kids were off from school 14 days over Christmas break.
And for some reason, they are off another 5 this weekend.
The Things are home until Thursday morning.
Send wine.
We have been trapped indoors with brutal cold, and today, snow. To occupy ourselves, and perhaps in an effort to remind ourselves how cute the Things were when they were babies (as opposed to now, with the fighting, whining, messing up of the house), we have been going through the mass of pre-digital photos we've accumulated in what appears to be waaaay more than one lifetime.
Oh.My. God.
My kids were so freaking cute.
What I learned from perusing old pictures:
1. I did nothing but clean ALL DAY. I can say this because my house was immaculate in every picture. These were not staged pictures, just everyday 'hey, look the baby is ____' pictures. There were a handful of toys out, and not a speck of dust to be seen.
I'm totally impressed with myself.
2. A large portion of my day was spent washing, drying, lotion-ing, ironing, trimming the hair and nails of, and dressing, the Things. And every new outfit (and My God, there were many) was photographically documented. Right down to the shoes.
No wonder I drink so much wine now.
3. My house used to be much bigger. We have the same furniture. Toys are not allowed anywhere but the Things bedrooms. And yet the living room is decidedly smaller. I can see it, in the pictures. The Big Guy agrees.
4. I do not need coffee and wine to live.
I was trying to conceive, pregnant, or nursing for a full 9 years. (nearly ten!)During that time I touched neither caffeine nor alcohol. I refuse to discuss the quantities of chocolate I consumed during that period.
And yet I look perfectly normal in the few pics I am in during that time.
5. I can do anything.
Thing One was a little 'early'. She did not have a strong suck reflex when she was born. Nursing was out of the question.
But I was determined. (When confronted with a determined Marissa, run for your life.)
I pumped for 10 weeks, around the clock, every 2 hours.
10 weeks.
Ten.
I had my Mother for the first 2 weeks.
After that, it was Solitary Confinement.
I never slept for more than an hour at a time.
In those early pictures, there are breast pump parts in various stages of sterilization in evidence.
I would pump, feed her the milk, sterilize the parts, and it was time to pump again. (Apparently, in between, I cleaned.)
When she was 8 weeks old, I developed a bad sore throat. Fearing Strep (fearing for HER, not me), I called a Doc.
Oh, yeah, he said, let's culture. She can't be exposed to that.
I went off on the ferry. Me, the baby, the pump, ice packs, cooler bags, the carseat and port-a-crib.
Visited Lou's office. Had a culture. Got to talking.
So. Very . Tired.
If I didn't know any better, I'd think I was pregnant again.
Uh-oh, he said.
No way, I said. He's got the scars to prove it. (One reason I started knitting again, to have a weapon in hand at all times. Works like a charm.)
I'd have to start my own religion. It'd be another immaculate conception.
Hmmm, he said. Let's check your Thyroid.
A normal TSH is two.
Mine was 120. One hundred and twenty.
He called me at home a few days later when the report came in, to see if I was alive.
I'd set a record, it seems. Made it into a medical journal. I don't know if it was mentioned that my house was immaculate, but it darn well should have been.
We went down to Boston for Thing One's first Easter. She was ten weeks old. And she opened her mouth, and started nursing. Just like that.
I wanted to burn that pump. (I was making so much milk by that time, it took me almost a month to wean myself from it.)
We threw away (I know, gasp, but it was old by then) over 10 gallons of frozen breast milk by the time she was done nursing. I never once fed her frozen milk, that was all extra.
Well, I don't get to dress them, or bathe them, anymore.
But they never cease to find ways to entertain me, even more now, if that's possible.
And I still get to pick out the clothes for Holidays!!!!
They say "Pictures Say a Thousand Words". How true it is. I didn't just look at pictures but I have been thinking baok to when my kids were small. They are now on the verge of turning 26, 23, and 20 in a few weeks. I look around my house, the 23 and 20 still live at home, and I remember that my house was so much cleaner back when they were 1, 4, and 7! I didn't work outside the house, they weren't involved in any outside activities. I think I cleanned all morning and did the chores everyday, same ones over and over, and then even had the afternoon to knit or sew! I made my own curtains and Chrisstmas gifts. Now, they are grown and I feel more frazzled and stressed and I am so apt to go buy things at the store instead of making them.
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