Lines to remember

Don't you wish you could remember ALL the funny/poignant/heartwarming things that kids say and do? I know I do. So I'm trying to do a better job of getting some of the more memorable things down on the blog. To be honest, I forget 85-percent of the things I want to remember. But maybe if I do this periodically, I'll be more inclined to hold on to the moments after they happen.

Here's just a few:

Cary to me: Mommy, are you a wife?
Me: Yes, I am Daddy's wife.
Cary pauses to think ....
Cary: I'm Dean's wife.

(This is funny to us, because it's actually the other way around. Dean is totally the boss of their relationship. LOL.)

 **

In the process of throwing their old Sesame Street toothbrushes away, Dean makes up this whole conversation between the toothbrushes, using two distinct voices:

Dean: If you throw them in the trash, they're going to be scared. And Elmo's going to say (with a high voice), "Nooo, noooo, I don't want to be in the trash. Get me out! Get me out!" And then Cookie Monster will say (in a loud, gruff voice), "GET OUT OF THE TRASH! I DON'T WANT TO EAT TRASH. I WANT TO EAT A COOKIE!"

Dean is frequently making up dialogue between people or things. He is so dramatic, making faces and adopting voices and throwing himself onto the sofa. He cracks me up.

**

And this is not about the kids, but I gotta get down this Mack-daddy line my husband dropped on me last night, as a part of his 40 for 40 gifts.

He came in the house with Thai food (all shrimp dishes, b/c I do love the skrimps) and a bottle of wine. He also handed me a note with this line in it: "More than a fine wine, you are the best complement to an appetizing meal."

Hubba hubba! Lester still got game! :-)

Cary's hearing issues revisited (plus a bit on Clair)

Yesterday, I took Cary to a hearing assessment center, because Lester and I had been having some lingering feelings about Cary's hearing.

The bad news: Cary does have some "reduced" hearing, the doctor said.
It is likely caused by fluid that remains in his ears, unable to drain for some reason. The doctor said, for Cary, it's like going through life with his fingers stuck in his ears. He can hear, but it's muffled, or not as clear as it could be. The fluid can and does shift, most likely, which would explain why sometimes he can hear us just fine, and other times it's like he's wearing Beats by Dre' headphones.

The good news: This is not a permanent condition. This has not had any effect on Cary's verbal or cognitive abilities (which the doctor called "quite good.") So this has likely not been going on for very long. And this is something that is common in children his age, and easily treatable.

We have an appointment next week with a pediatric ENT who will be able to establish with more certainty just exactly what is going on with Cary, and give us recommendations to fix the problem. The doctor we saw yesterday said he can imagine a range of solutions, from prescription decongestants to surgically-implanted tubes.

Those who know me will be so proud to know that I have not spent ridiculous hours reading everything ever written about fluid in the ears, tubes, "reduced hearing," or any key words that would send me down the rabbit hole of worry/anxiety.

Instead, I took Cary out to Friendly's for ice cream and had one of the best lunches of my life just sitting and talking to my sweetie, who -- freed of his extrovert attention-grabbing brother -- was charming and peppy, waving at customers and brightly chirping "Hi!" "Hello!" "Oh, hi!" to servers as they walked by.

And Les and I will just wait to hear what the ENT says -- in conjunction with our pediatrician -- and make decisions when we have all the information we need. In the meantime, we know our baby is just fine. So there's no need to worry. (This kind of attitude is so freeing! Is this the 40 talking?? If so, I like it!)

In bed last night, I prayed to God, my heart filled with gratefulness that Cary is as OK as he is. And that all our children are extremely healthy. I know this is not a given, and that many, many amazing parents are dealing with frightening and unthinkable health concerns with their kids. Fluid on the ears makes me a little sad for Cary (who wants to go through life with your fingers in your ears?) but I know that there are FAR worse things. And again I say, we know our baby will be just fine.

###

Meanwhile, we took Clair in for her 15-month-checkup today and here are her stats:

Weight: 20 lbs., 14 oz. (She lost weight during that horrible pneumonia and is just starting to put it back on.)
Height: 20 and 1/4 inches

(Note: My sister points out that there is no way Clair can be 20 inches, as some babies are BORN longer than that. I'll have to check on this.)

She is doing exceedingly well development-wise. She is bright and energetic, has great receptive language (she told Dr. Bodnar to "shhh!" when he said something about quiet) and is, in Dr. Bodnar's words "a beautiful child, and I don't just mean physically."

I couldn't agree more!

Don't you love a little girl in jellies?

Friend-filled weekend

I know I said a few posts ago that as I approach 40, I wanted to make sure I got to see friends and loved ones -- both old and new -- more often.

I just didn't except to do that all in one weekend.

Friday night, my friend Andrea invited me to a party/fundraiser. I was tired (of course) and had nothing to wear, but Andrea is always supportive of what I do, so I wanted to support her. The shindig was at a fancy rented-out space in Harbor East, and there were drinks and music and VIP lounges and things I haven't seen in years! The thing I enjoyed the most was getting to laugh and talk and hang out with my journalist friends -- who put to bed the myth that journalists are frumpy, fashionless people.

Check out these hot girls! I stole this photo from Jeneba's Facebook page. So I can't explain what's going on here. But here we are, doing our best super model "make your upper arm look thinner" pose.

On Saturday, I was invited to the surprise 40th birthday cookout for a good friend of mine from high school. Juanita and I actually went to middle school together, can you believe that? But we solidified our friendship at Eleanor Roosevelt High School, where we joined a band of gals who were all in the science and technology program (Hahahaa! Me and science and tech. What was I thinking?)
I neglected to take even one photo of this mini high school reunion, so instead, I will have to post this horrible throwback of the six of us from some ERHS Homecoming dance. Please note the horrendous hair.

Nicole, April, Juanita, Carla B., Carla J, and me. I also stole this picture from someone's Facebook page. Someone who is not a friend of mine. Because obviously no friend of mine would EVER post this picture on Facebook.

Now that we've all stopped laughing, I need to point out that I really love the fact that I've stayed in touch (not as much as I'd like, but still in touch) with my best girls from high school, who have all grown into amazing women with great careers, beautiful families and fun and supportive personalities. It just points out to me that one of my absolute undeniable talents is picking friends. I am mediocre at a lot of things, but I kick ass at that.

Happy birthday, Juanita!

And then, right after leaving a cookout with some of my oldest friends, I hurried up the road to meet up and have drinks with some of my newest friends: Beth and Angel!

I really tried to fix the crazy eyes! But you get the picture - it's Beth, me and Angel, out having a ball. And apparently being possessed by the devil...

We met up at a fancy, fancy restaurant (Don Pablo's - ahem) and ate bad Mexican food, drank a couple dranky-dranks, got free sopapilla because our server and the service was so terrible, and laughed, dished and had the most frank and encouraging conversation I've had in months. Something about being Mom-bloggers connects us in a way I would never have predicted. And these two smart and funny women are a big reason I'm so glad I started blogging.

Angel and Beth hit it off famously and I would like to point out here again that this speaks to my ability to spot fabulous women from a mile away. Not only do I know who I'll get along with, but I can bring other awesome people together!

It just hit me! Knowing amazing women is my super power!

Anyway, it was a great friend-filled weekend, which ended on Sunday morning with a brunch date with my four best friends in the world: Lester, Clair, Dean and Cary.

(P.S. Shout-out to Lester for holding it down with all the kiddos while I was gallivanting the whole weekend with friends, old and new.)

Big things poppin'....

The title of this post is an ode to my old-school days of (sometimes) listening to rap music, which I rarely do anymore, because my iPod has been taken over by Justin Roberts (thanks, Angel), Dan Zanes, Elizabeth Mitchell (thanks, Tahira), Elmo, Cookie Monster, Tag, Leap and Lily and a host of other shrill-voiced characters.

But once upon a time, T.I. rapped about "Big things poppin' and little things stoppin'..." and I did a little shoulder dance at my desk and felt cool. Today I still feel pretty cool, because of a few big things happening in my little family.

1. Clair is 15-months today! She is the most opinionated, cranky/cheerful child ever to live. She is going to be a force to reckon with, and I am just going to pray that she uses her powers for good.
She has 4 words: "ott" (for hot); "uh-oh"; "mama" and "dada." Most of the time, we are all dada -- even Cary and Dean. She has started occasionally saying "unh-unh" for no. But usually she just screams angrily at all of us all day long, and swipes and swats at us for some offense unknown to anyone but her. She climbs the stairs like a pro, but can't get down, and can get down off the sofa but can't get up. She has stranger anxiety like none other, and prefers me to anyone else in the world. This is sweet, somewhat, but you know...It'd be nice for other people to see her laugh and act silly instead of just cry and cling to me all the time. But I guess this will come. I hope it will. She is snuggly and sweet (when she wants to be) and loves, loves, loves to dance and read books. She is my absolute sweetie.

I need to take more photos of my silly sweetie!

 2. Cary and Dean have been practicing on their balance bikes!

I won't say who is doing a better job with the bikes so far, but this picture is an indication.

What's taking you so long???

One day this week at school drop-off, Dean climbed out of the car, went and stood by this tree and said, "Mommy, you have to take a picture." I don't know if this is for his secret Facebook page, or just what, but I called Cary over and did what I was told.

I have no idea why he needed this moment captured for all eternity.

 3. I have not done anything toward my goal of getting someone to accept my children's book idea, since getting rejection after rejection after rejection.

Thanks, "Submissions Department."

But I got this fortune in my cookie the other night when I brought home takeout for Lester and me after a loooong board meeting.

I wish it said, "Someone is going to publish your book." But I'll take what I can get.

 And now I think I will get back in the saddle! Must. Keep. Moving. Forward.

 4. Speaking of getting back in the saddle, Beth and Tam will be happy to know that I made an appointment to see my doctor and get my blood sugar, cholesterol, and Vitamin D levels tested. I go tomorrow morning! So yay for that.

5. And not to brag about my husband anymore, because seriously, it really is an embarrassment of riches, but I have to get down for history's sake the amazing 40 for 40 gift he gave me yesterday.

I came home from work feeling tired and sick and wanting to take Tylenol, hurry through the night's activities and go to bed. But Lester told me to get freshened up because we were going out! I honestly had to talk myself into getting excited, because I was just so beat down, but who can resist a man who is so incredibly sweet? So off to take a shower I went.
When I was ready, Lester went upstairs saying he was going to wash up and throw his clothes on. I stayed downstairs and played with the kids, when there was a knock on the door. I opened it and much to my surprise, my Dad was standing there! I thought HE was the babysitter and I immediately turned to ask Lester, "Are you insane?"
That's when I noticed that Lester was still in his shorts and T-shirt.
Turns out: He wasn't my date after all -- my Dad was!
Lester had gotten us tickets to see a play at Center Stage and arranged for my Dad to take off from teaching his evening class so he could go!
It was the SWEETEST thing! I still get all goosebumpy thinking about how he pulled that off. I was totally, 100-percent surprised.
And just when I thought it couldn't get any better -- he handed my Dad a card, which we read in the car. It was all about how Lester knows the close bond my Dad and I have and how much I miss talking to and spending time with him. He said in the note, "I thought I'd give you both the best gift I could think of: The gift of time together." And then, as if my mascara wasn't running enough already, he then wrote, "And Dad, I really hope that one day Clair and I have the same close relationship that you and Tanika have."

I swear, I think I saw a little tear in Dad's eye, too, after reading that card. (Admit it Dad, you cried a little!)

The night was a lot of fun. Dad and I really enjoyed the play (Beneatha's Place) and stayed out in the car afterward talking about any and everything until about 11:30!

This shirt dress looks much better when I stand up straight, I swear.

I came in the house and begged Lester not to give me anything else, because that was the ULTIMATE in my eyes. The ultimate! But he insists there's more. He keeps saying, "Babe, don't worry, these are small things!"

But this whole exercise has proven again and again that the small things mean the absolute most -- in case I ever forget.

Who needs big things poppin'...when the little things are this magnificent?

Pause to give mad props to my husband...

Every day for the last 10 days, I've gotten a gift from my husband.

Every even-numbered day, the gift has been a voice message that he recorded from one of my dearest friends or family members. He then took the voicemail, attached it to an email with his own little message, and sent it to me.

The first one - on May 4th - was from one of my closest friends, the woman I was supposed to visit in Atlanta, Neelofer. Her message made me cry (of course), because she started crying when she was talking, remembering how we met freshman year in college and how we've been a part of every big moment in each other's lives since, loving one another and caring for one another the way only best girlfriends can.

Lester's note, attached to the email, also made me cry. It was a quote I'm sure he found on the Internet, but it was so appropriate for her, and, actually, for so many of my other true friends.


"True friendship multiplies the good in life and divides its evils. Strive to have friends, for life without friends is like life on a desert island... to find one real friend in a lifetime is good fortune; to keep him is a blessing."  --- Baltasar Gracian

Other voice messages have been from my awesomely supportive friend Kelly; my oldest and dearest friend Desiree', who HATES doing that sort of thing, so I was so touched that she actually talked for almost 2 minutes; my sister Kadija, who wrote me a poem and cracked me UP; and my 96-year-old Granddad, who spoke for a grand total of 14 seconds. Here's what he said: "Happy birthday, Tanika. I hope you're having a lovely time. You are a lovely girl. Have fun. Granddad."

Ha!! Man of few words, that guy is.

On the odd-numbered days, Lester has given me some small gift, usually left in a conspicuous place, so I'll find it by surprise, or once he hand-delivered the gift to my office.

There's been a tube of chocolate-caramel balls, a Starbucks gift card, a gift bag of fancy ginger ales, THIS oh-so-sweet book:

Having Lester's support in everything I do means the world to me.

And the doozy of all doozies -- concert tickets to see my boo Justin Timberlake during the Legends of Summer Tour in August!!!! The concert tickets are spectacular, but even more impressive is the fact that Lester is going to go WITH me to the show! Let's just say he doesn't share my enthusiasm for JT.

But he does like that Suit-and-Tie song, and in fact, in the note card to me along with the gift, he paraphrased lyrics from it: "Here's to the woman who showed me a few things about love."

Awwww....(I also cried reading that one, of course.)

In between planning and executing all this gift-giving, Lester managed to participate 100-percent in the planning and executing of the boys' 3rd-birthday cookout, he's been holding it down with me at home while Michelle has been out sick, and he STILL managed to get me a Mother's Day gift (something small and sentimental I'd asked for a long time ago, before I knew he was doing this 40 for 40 thing.)

I've got 30 days (!!) left before my actual birthday, and I have NO idea how he's going to keep this thing going. He's pretty much touched on almost all of my sweet spots -- friends, family, chocolate. I keep wondering who else he recorded, what additional sweetness could possibly be coming. Besides a 3-lb. lobster dripping in lemon and butter, I don't know what else he can pull out of his hat.

A big part of me feels embarrassed by all these riches. But mostly I'm overwhelmed by his generosity, his thoughtfulness, his understanding of who I am and his amazing, amazing love.

In my 20s and early 30s, I made a lot of bad decisions when it came to romantic relationships. I suffered a lot of heartache and loneliness and even some outright humiliation at the hands of men who didn't measure up. I prayed and prayed that I'd one day be blessed to have a husband who'd love me the way I knew in my heart that I deserved to be loved. I knew I had to make better decisions when it came to choosing people to love. And I admit that I (finally, finally) made a good decision to date Lester, someone who was outside my "type," 9-years-younger and not a narcissistic commitment-phobe.

But I had no idea that the stars would line up the way they have. I thank God that He knew my heart would agree with my head on this one! And I'm so thankful, so grateful, so humbled to be Lester's wife, partner and friend.

When Lester quoted Baltasar Gracian (whoever that is) in the email when he sent Neelofer's voice message, it didn't occur to me at the time, but now I know, with absolute certainty, that the quote most aptly applies to him:

To find one real friend in a lifetime is good fortune; to keep him is a blessing.

Happy birthday, boys!

Saturday, Cary and Dean turned 3!

We had a big cookout for them on Sunday, so most of their actual birthday was spent running errands with us to prepare for the party. But they didn't notice, thank goodness!

We spent way too much money, and made waaaaaay too much food. The wind whipped a little too much in the beginning of the party, causing important things to go flying and 3-year-olds to start whining.

But all in all, it was a really, really great day. So many  friends and family came out to celebrate with us, it was amazing! And because my cousin Keilan graduated from Howard University the day before, a huge cohort of Boston-family was in town and came to the party too. With all those people there, I still don't know how we managed to have too much food -- but guess what we didn't have too much of? Margaritas!

Because Sunday was also Mother's Day, I made Mommy Margaritas for the mothers. Those drinks were sooo delicious and a big, big hit!  I will have to make those again -- possibly at every function. Or just because it's Tuesday or something.

The kids enjoyed playing outside and eating 2,000 lbs. of sugar and I so much enjoyed seeing friends and family in one place, laughing and eating and enjoying life. It's truly one of my favorite things. As I turn 40, I know that one of the things I want to do more is get together with the special people in my life. Friends old and new, family near or far -- I don't want to miss an opportunity to hug you, and find out how your life is going. So be prepared for seeing more of me! (Or at least talking to me more!)

The boys got a thousand and one fabulous presents, but this one from my Mom and Dad really stole the show:

10, 9, 8, 7...

Even the two balance bikes we got them couldn't compare to those suits. (Pray for us as we try to teach the boys to "ride" a bike with no pedals.)

Lester and I are both exhausted from all the party preparation and partying and party clean-up! And I've got a ton of work to do to because Michelle has been sick, so Lester and I have had to alternate  days staying home to care for the kids.

So even though I had planned to do a big round-up of the boys' third year, I will have to leave this post short and sweet. Just like them.

40 means better health

Since I last posted about what things I want for myself as I approach turning 40, I have been felled by a barrage of sicknesses.

First, I caught the upper respiratory thing that Cary, Dean and Clair had. And then, I got the stomach bug that Cary and Dean had over the weekend. Oh, didn't I tell you that C & D had a stomach bug? And that they both threw up multiple times Friday evening into Saturday? And that we had to change sheets and pajamas a total of 4 times? No? I must've blocked that out.

But it is much harder to block out when the bug comes for you. So I have been suffering with sickness for days and days. Sunday was the worst, and to add insult to injury, Lester came down with a sudden, bizarre, achiness-chills-fatigue thing that kept him in bed for hours.  I was wiped out and weak from not eating, plus my throat hurt, so I took to our bed too.

This meant a record low point in the Davis family parenting. When the kids woke up from their naps, neither Lester nor I had the energy to do anything - nothing - not one thing. So we tossed the kids in the bed with us, piled a breakfast tray with grapes, goldfish, chicken nuggets and water, and laid, catatonic, for 4 and a half hours, while the kids watched episode after episode of Sesame Street, Yo Gabba Gabba and Curious George. Four and a half hours of TV in one day. No engagement. No nothing. Occasional grunts of affirmation or opposition. That's it. Like I said, a record low.

Lester and I both stayed home from work yesterday, that's how bad it was. Today, he's much better; I'm marginally so. Clair's still hacking away; Cary's got a nose like a dripping faucet. My stomach is still gurgling and my throat still hurts.

All this is a long lead-up to the very first thing I know I want for myself and my family as I approach 40.

I want GOOD HEALTH.

I am so sick of being sick (seriously, no one warned me how sick we'd be once the kids went to school. I hold all of you accountable). I am so sick of saying "I'm sick." I am so sick of worrying if I'm going to get sick when one of the kids get sick. I'm sick of the kids getting sick.

I want good health in our house and I'm willing to consider all suggestions as to how to go about getting there.

A mom in C & D's class once told me all about all the vitamins and supplements and castor oil-type yuckiness she serves her kids every morning before school. "My kids hardly ever get sick," she bragged. This was the beginning of the school year, before the boys were attacked at every possible juncture by germs, so I thought to myself, "Neither do mine, sweetie."

I secretly scoffed at her, but now I'm planning to ask her about her regimen.

I know I need to quit playing around and just EXERCISE, fercryingoutloud, but other than that, there has to be something else I can do to fight these germs. Vitamin C pills? Should we stop eating all processed foods? Become vegetarian? Eat Paleo? Someone suggested a shaman -- I'm this close to Googling one.

I don't know what I have to do, but I'm going to find out. It's time for better health in my house.

(First up: Get thee to a lab to get sugars tested, Tanika!! And take this pre-diabetes seriously!)

40 for 40

Yesterday, Lester gave me the most amazingly touching gift.

He wrote me a letter (on actual paper) all about milestones and how important they are in our lives. And at the end of the note, he said that today marks the 40th day before my 40th birthday. To mark this milestone, he said I'll be receiving 40 things - some gifts, some notes, some messages from friends and loved ones, some things I can't predict -- all the way up until I turn 40 on June 11.

What a wonderful, wonderful gift. I don't even have to see what the 40 things are. Just the thought that he put such a thing together makes me feel overwhelmingly blessed, lucky and emotional to have him as a life partner and friend.

But, truthfully, his letter caught me off guard a bit. I hadn't really been thinking about what it means to turn 40. I have been so focused on planning the boys' party next week, and taking care of sick babies, I honestly haven't thought about my birthday -- this milestone, as he put it -- at all.   

What do I want for myself as I turn 40? What does this milestone mean to me?

I honestly don't know the answer to those questions, but Lester's letter (and love) has inspired me to think about it, and to come up with my own 40 for 40 of sorts.

I'm going to try to think of 40 things -- maybe they'll be goals; maybe they'll be activities; maybe they'll be lessons I've learned or people I want to thank; maybe they'll just be songs I want to hear that day or books I want to read. I don't know what they're going to be yet.

But one thing I do know after living on this earth 40 days shy of 40 years is that I have to live my life purposefully. I have to have goals, lists, calendars, events planned, dreams to aim for and a plan to make them come true. I don't want my life to just "happen" to me. I want to live my life to the fullest.

I think I'll start today.

Wednesday explorers

I left work early yesterday to go home and be with Clairzee.

But on my drive home, I took note of how absolutely beautiful the day was and how green the grass and gorgeous the pink on the trees. I came in the house and Clair's cheeks were cool for the first time in days. She was cheerful and energetic. She looked more like herself. I almost cried.

And then I decided right then and there that the boys needed to get out in this day more than Clair needed me to snuggle her. Lester was happy to stay home with her, so we threw some balls and bats in the car and drove around the block to Herring Run park and the fields across the street from the boys' school.

We kicked the ball a little, hit the tee ball a little, watched a bit of a girls' lacrosse practice and ran around in the grass and the sun and the flowers, without a care in the world.

Then we decided to go exploring along the trail between the stream and the park. This was awesome, folks. I don't know why we haven't done this before.

Love this photo. They look like such big boys.

Tree-climbers.

They loved the independence of being able to just walk wherever they wanted and stop and explore whatever they wanted.

I love how they're looking at one another in this picture.

Where's Cary?

I have to say that this was one of the best afternoons we've had together in their short years on this earth. And there was no planning, no jam-packed schedule, no agenda, no fee to get in, no crowds, no constant cries for snacks, no over-stimulation and no jackets required.

We did, however, experience a  major meltdown when it was time to go home for dinner. Cary would've stayed out in the woods all night long if he could.

Let's zoom in on that cranky face, shall we?

Hahahaha!

I know he was really heartbroken that we had to leave our adventures in the woods, but his temper tantrums crack me up.

Despite that small bump in the road, this was a glorious afternoon and I'm sorry Clair missed it, but as soon as she's 100-percent better, we'll include her on future jaunts.

Pneumonia.

Clair's got pneumonia.

I took her back to the doctor yesterday and after a chest X-ray, that was the diagnosis. It is likely a result of an extended cold, exacerbated by her asthma. I'm relieved to know what it is, but I'm also sad for her. Pneumonia?! Poor little baby!

She's now on two different steroids, an antibiotic and a steady stream of ibuprofen. She's still not eating, barely drinking, and waking up many, many times throughout the night because of powerful coughing, gagging and choking. The choking is scary for her -- and for us, too.

I wanted so badly to stay home with her and make sure she had one-on-one attention today -- lots of holding and cuddling, and a laser-focus on getting her meds in her at the right time, in the right way. But I have meetings I can't reschedule, especially since I missed most of yesterday at the doctor with her, so Lester is home. Thank God for him (really and truly) for being the kind of father who wants to stay home with his sick, clingy and irritable baby. And thank God he has the kind of job that he can stay home.

But I wouldn't be honest if I didn't admit to feeling a little bit bitter that I have to go to $@#$&*! meetings when my baby daughter is home, miserable with pneumonia.

I am also not going to Atlanta this weekend to visit my girlfriend and her baby daughter. I don't think it's a good idea for Clair, even if by Friday she is starting to feel much better, as Dr. Bodnar predicts.

I'll just hold on to the tickets and those vacation days and use them another time. I have too much work to do anyway to go on a long weekend trip. Bleh.

Ugh. In the epic Grangerford/Shepherdson battle commonly known as "work-life balance," work is kicking the crap out of life and life is whining like a little bee-yotch.