Life According to Laura

We’re headed to Texas today. We will spend this weekend with Joe’s buddies from A&M and their families and then head to Tahoka for the week. Joe will return to Brooklyn but the kids and I are staying to spend time with my family in Dallas. Gonna be great!

Joe possesses many qualities of which I love. But there is one quality in particular that I believe has helped make our marriage what it is today. Joe makes every effort to look at women in the eyes. Now you may find this statement to be obvious. But if you are honest with yourself, I think you will agree that many (not all, ok?) men sometimes find their focus wandering elsewhere on women - especially on those ladies who are pleasing to the eye.

Joe, however, in an effort to honor me and respect them, tries to see them from the neck up. Now, I’m not naive enough to think this is all he ever sees of other women. But it does communicate to me that I am important to him - important enough to deny selfish pleasures.

The other day while enjoying a rare moment without our kids Joe and I were sitting on a bench “people watching”. We happened to notice a couple guys checking out a girl as she walked by. You know the look. Their eyes went up and down, and up and down again. I made some comment to Joe about this and he said something that struck me. He said, “Laura, I’ve seen you check out girls as well. You look them over and compare yourself to them. Sometimes you’re worse than guys.”

Ouch. But he is right. I have a really hard time finding complete satisfaction and peace within my own skin. I am quick to look at another woman and size them up. What about them am I envious of and in what areas do I have them beat? This is terrible. Its ugly to even type these words. But it’s truth and sometimes when you write something down, it becomes even more real.

I know I find myself in the company of many women who do the same thing. But I do not want to keep company with them any longer. And so I am committing to turning over a new leaf and following Joe’s lead. Tonight I commit to seeing other women from the neck up.

1. Since my return from St. Louis, I can count on one hand the number of times I have fed Ira. Joe has completely saved me from total burnout. He’s a good, good man.

2. There are times when the voice inside my head has a British accent.

3. Sophia habitually holds my hand when we walk around the neighborhood. I love this.

4. Ira, on the other hand, does not.

5. There are days when I love living in NYC. How many VBS itineraries include a visit to The American Museum of Natural History?

6. There are days when I don’t love living in NYC. “Ira and Sophia, stop playing around! You must have quiet feet. Do you want to get us kicked out?”

7. My dog is shedding like crazy. Considering the neighbors (again), how early is too early to vacuum?

8. Every Saturday morning Joe takes the kids and the dog to the park so Jersey can swim. While they are gone, I go to the gym. When I return, there is always a donut waiting for me. Makes perfect sense, eh?

While sitting in the hospital today I was keenly aware of feelings I had three years ago when Joe and I spent the entire summer in the NICU with Ira. I can remember feeling like summer never even came - like we went straight from spring to fall. We took no vacation, never went to the pool, I don’t think we even went to a park. We sat in the over air-conditioned room on the 7th floor where Ira laid in his bed and Sophia watched dvds in the big purple chair. I was so jealous of everyone living outside of those walls. I felt so trapped and tethered to the hospital.

The following summer Ira finally came home from the PICU on the ventilator. As much as I loved having him home, I still felt trapped. I have a specific memory of watching our neighbors pack up their car and head to the beach. I was so envious. It felt like we would never be able to go anywhere together as a family. I desperately wanted to be able to go and do things all together - even walking to the YMCA to swim as a family would have been a dream.

The summer of 2007 proved to be monumental. We finally started taking Ira to the park and followed him around with the vent. It was like he was on leash but he didn’t know the difference. We embarked on our 2 week road trip to Missouri and Texas. It was Ira’s first time to leave NYC and all the planning and driving was well worth the effort. We were finally traveling as a complete family unit and I loved every second.

Fast forward to the present - summer 2008. Last week Ira traveled on his first airplane. Who would have ever thought that would be possible? No ventilator, no oxygen, very few meds to keep up with. And by next week, Ira will be able to swim. I’m going to take a wild guess that he will absolutely hate it but he will be able to do it nonetheless. SWIM!! My dreams for him, and us, are all coming true.

But here’s the thing. I’m finding as we move from one phase to another with Ira I am quick to forget how far we’ve come. I forget about all those dreams I thought would never come to pass and all the days I spent wishing for life to be different. Instead, my mind finds new ways to feel discontented and unsatisfied with life as it is. You would think that life would feel much easier now that Ira is vent free and able to go and do so much. And in many ways it does feel easier - when I stop to think about it. But I don’t stop to think about it very often. Instead I rush on and let new challenges and obstacles obscure my view of how wonderful life is today.

In the end, it all comes down to perspective. There will always be someone who has it better than me and someone who has it worse - whatever “it” represents at the time. I want to be able to find that place of peace no matter the life circumstance whether it be a storm, a desert, or rich valley flowing with milk and honey.

See Joe’s blog before you read this post.

Sophia came in to the bathroom where I was drying my hair.

Sophia: Mom, if God made humans (yes, she really used the term “humans”), then who made God?

Me: Mmm…good question, Sophia. Nobody knows the answer to this question. It’s one of those questions we will just have to ask God when we see Him.

Sophia: Yeah but we can’t hear God. He can hear us but we can’t hear Him.

Me: That’s true. That’s why we’ll just have to wait until we get to heaven to find out.

Whew. Are these the kinds of questions I have to look forward to? So much unknown about this faith I practice. Yet, so much that is known. I will continue to teach Sophia the truth I do know and let us grapple with the unknown together.

Last night Ira picked out a book for me to read as part of our bedtime routine. As I opened this favorite of mine, Go, Dog, Go, I noticed the inscription. It was dated June 2005 and read,
To Sophia,
This is one of my favorite books. I especially like the part,
‘Do you like my hat?’ Hope you enjoy it too.
Love Alexis

Instantly I was flooded with memories of that particular time in my life and was reminded of the special way a dear friend showered me with her love.

You see, while Ira was in the hospital for six months, almost every Friday I received a gift in the mail. Sometimes the gift was intended for me - vanilla lotion or radiant red nail polish - and sometimes it was for Sophia - hair clips, bubble bath, a Dr. Seuss book. Hardly a week went by where I didn’t receive something in the mail from her. And if she happened to miss a week, I would get an email or phone message expressing an apology.

Johnna and I met at church camp, Camp Ne-O-Tez, 20 years ago when we were 13 years old. I will never forget her first words to me as I walked up to the table where she was sitting. “Hey, what are you doing here? Don’t I know you?” We were inseparable for the rest of the week and each week of camp for the next 6 summers.

I was able to see Johnna last week at camp because she was spending the week as camp nurse. Our daughters, both 5 years old, got to spend the day getting to know each other. I hope Sophia and Alexis have many more opportunities to make memories at camp. But more than that, I hope I can pass on to my daughter the beautiful story of friendship Johnna offered me when she loved me from thousands of miles away during the summer of 2005.

The kids and I had a wonderful visit to St. Louis. The grass was so green and the weather was perfect. I took a couple early morning walks with Ira (he didn’t get the memo about switching time zones) and we saw lots of bunnies, squirrels, robins, blue jays, and my favorite, cardinals.

A couple highlights for me were spending Father’s Day with my Dad and taking a day trip to Camp Ne-O-Tez. At camp, Sophia “caught” a tadpole and Ira spent his day trying to avoid getting rocks in his shoes.

The kids loved having the freedom to run outside and play. At one point I looked out the kitchen window and saw Ira sitting in the wagon just waiting for someone to drop what they were doing and pull him around. On the other hand, he wanted nothing to with the luscious green grass. If a ball happened to roll from the driveway into the yard, he was done playing ball.

It wasn’t all fun and games though. I must say having sole responsibility of Ira’s feeding sessions was very taxing. Getting him to eat has become one of the hardest challenges I’ve ever faced. On Monday, after a terrible breakfast session, I threw my hands up and said, “That’s IT! I’m giving myself a break today! Its tube feedings for the rest of the day!” He fights me at every meal and it takes every ounce of patience I have just to get through the 30 minute session.

All in all, its good to be back in Brooklyn with Joe. The first words out of Ira’s mouth when he saw Joe were, “Daddy, un wretle?” (Daddy, do you want to wrestle?)

In a few days I am taking the kids and heading to St. Louis. It will be Ira’s first time on an airplane.

It will also be my first time to have both kids by myself for an extended period of time. Something strange about life with Ira is that there has been very little time where I’ve had both kids, by myself, outside of our home. Because Ira had to spend so much time inside our apartment, the time I’ve spent outside the apartment has been with Sophia by herself.

Lately however, Ira has become much more mobile. If one of us is leaving the apartment, Ira wants to go along. He tags along to take Sophia to school, helps walk the dog, and LOVES the slide at the park.

I have found, however, that with Ira’s new freedom, I suddenly have two kids to keep up with instead of just one. And I am terrible at this. Usually a person has time to hone this skill. Usually a person has the chance to gradually adjust to having another child in the mix. At first the second child is small and contained in the stroller. Then they start to walk but can’t go far without the help of a steadying finger or two. After this, the child might start to really take off but by this point the parent has adjusted to having one eye on each child (for those with more than two kids, I have no idea). I, on the other hand, am accustomed to just keeping up with Sophia - who is basically completely independent. She would rather I stay away.

So, at the park or on the school playground, I find myself chatting away with another mom or dad and I completely forget about Ira. I know this sounds crazy. And the thing about Ira is that he is quick. I can’t keep up with where he is. If I take my eyes off of him for a second, he’s gone. This happened on Memorial Day when the whole family was at the park and at one point Joe and I looked at each other and asked, “Where’s Ira?” Thankfully at that moment I caught him out of the corner of my eye heading out of the park. Needless to say, he has a lot to learn and so do we.

All things considered, I am very excited about our trip. Sophia and Ira will get to spend some quality time with their grandparents and Uncle Johnny. I’m even going to venture out to my old summer camp, Camp Ne-O-Tez, and try to put a little country into their city genes (and jeans).

…my little monkey.