the word no does not fully communicate the no-ness of my answer

We got an invitation to a NICU reunion this week.

Now I'm sure that people who spent a long time there, who made friends with the nurses, whose kids actually needed to be there may want to go to that sort of function. I will not be attending.

Just thinking about it gave me flashbacks. Not the good kind.

I didn't mean to be rude about the NICU nurses in my last post (sorry, Jimmy). I'm sure some of them are very nice people. But it was such an awful situation. My kid was sick, I was in pain, and the nurses weren't there to take care of me, they were there to take care of my baby. The thing is - that was/is MY job. So naturally there was some um. . . awkwardness.

Here is one of my most potent memories:

One of the few times I was able to just hold her and be left alone, I looked around the ward. There were several "stations" around the room with wires and outlets, just waiting for a machine that goes "bing" and a baby to be wheeled over in a little Tupperware bin. (Oh, they call those bassinets? They make my baby look like leftovers). The ward could be re-arranged to accommodate more babies if the need arose. Pushed over to the side was a little baby bouncy seat. Jungle animals and bright flowers completely out of place in the sterile room. I never saw anyone use it. It occurred to me to wonder why it was there in the first place. Then I noticed a small plaque on the top. It said "In loving memory of - - - - - - -. (Insert beautiful baby's name that some girl picked out when she was fifteen and has been secretly planning for ever since).

It was at that moment that I realized that babies had died in this room. And I had a mini meltdown. Babies DIED here. Most of the clothes and "extras" sitting around the ward were donated by parents who couldn't stand to go home to all those shower gifts and an empty nursery. The heartbreak behind four little words and a baby swing were overwhelming. And then I realized that MY baby was in this room. And I wanted to grab her and run. My child doesn't belong here! I thought. Babies die here! WHY would you put my baby in a room where babies die? And I had to tuck her into her stay-fresh-dishwasher-safe bed and walk away.

So, no. I will not be attending a reunion. Though I am grateful for a healthy, happy baby. Please forgive me if I stay as far away as possible.

And snuggle this instead.

Dedicated to the one I love

This is my husband and he rocks.

I've been working on this post for weeks, and I just can't seem to get it right. There are no words for how wonderful this man is.

So I'm settling for a Jane Austin quote, "If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more."

Plus some pictures of him with his favorite job title: DADDY

He "fathers" all the kids who come our way - teaching sword fighting - making up zombie tag - also slipping in morality lessons along the way. He explained to them how to play fair, how not to hurt others while still being energetic (a big issue around here). And they all ran around for HOURS allowing me a much needed rest (with only two children to take care of).

Fortune Cookie

We ordered Chinese food the other night and this, of course, means that I get to eat all the fortune cookies.

John and JJ can't eat them and it wouldn't be polite for the rest of us to eat in front of them - so I have to eat them all after everyone else leaves the kitchen. Sigh, just one of the many duties we mommies have to bear.

The first fortune said:

People will be attracted to your insight and wisdom.

Husband snickered. I said, "Were you attracted to my insight and wisdom?"

He said, "I was attracted to your hot body and sparkling conversation."

I said, "Sparkling?"

He said, "Yeah. It is like champagne - with a shot of Russian-jet-fuel-vodka. It is bubbly and smooth until you think about it and then you realize you just got burned. On the inside."

And the next fortune said: Flattery will go far tonight.

I taped it to the front door for him to see when he walks in the house.

Family Photos

I think I've mentioned before that it is incredibly difficult to get a picture of all the children.

I finally decided to pay someone else to do it. There was drama and it was terrible. So we had to leave and not get any pictures. I was about as angry as I ever get with my children. The only thing saving me from freaking out and screaming at them was the fear that then they would hold still for a second and we would get a mediocre picture and I would feel guilty and buy it and then stare at a picture on my wall of what my kids' faces look like when mommy looses her mind at them. For five years until I get up the guts to try again. That and my mother was with me (your grandchildren are very grateful.)

Fortunately, we just walked away. And made another appointment a couple of weeks later. When Daddy was with us - also candy for bribing purposes.

And I think they turned out pretty well.