MaK!MeJ!

Exactly a week ago, we rushed my son to the hospital (and stayed there for 5 days). It was the worst asthma attack ever. It was a nightmare to see my son fighting for every breath he takes. He was really in bad shape that he had to be nebulized every 2 hours after admission. But dear son is better now - he’s actually running around the house while I’m keyboarding now.

I’m thankful for the strength God gave me to bear the unbearable.

For his doctor for taking good care of Matt. For the nurses who were so gentle with him and who became his friends (they were so entertained with Matt’s antics).

For the medicine that helped alleviate his condition.

For this rockin’ book. It is Matt’s favorite and we had so much fun reading it while in the hospital.

For my sister and my parents who helped me -and are always helping me- take care of my son.

For God’s mercy and healing.

For a great insurance company. There was a slight delay in the processing but we were 100% covered and I didn’t fork a single centavo for the hospital bills.

Also, thanks to those who visited my blogs despite my absence (btw, I am always autoposting).

For more of Thankful Thursday participants, please visit Iris.

Girl’s eyes.

I heard my son say one morning. He was playing on the floor with our clothes while I was on the bed with my back turned to him. (By playing, I meant that he dug all our clothes out of the cabinet).

Girl’s mouth. As if in gentle exploration. My interest was sufficiently piqued. But still, I was unwilling to move a muscle to check what’s going on.

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A cat was  meeyawing outside and Matt stopped on his tracks.

Matt: Ket -crying.

Me: Oh yes. Why is the cat crying?

Matt: Looking for Mama.

Me: Why, where’s his Mama?

Matt: Working.

Ouch.

Child psychology. Now you have a fair idea what I deal with everytime I go to work because dear son is in this very cute stage of wanting no one but Mama. It’s heartbreaking.  And everytime, I’m torn between needing to take further steps away and wanting to just.Stay.There. Just stay home.

Should have expected it -knowing that Father Houston also had it when he was young. But it still came as a surprise when we had the doctor’s confirmation. Finally.

A shattering truth.

Shortness of breath ensued. Not only his but mine as well. Oh my dear son.

Can one slump and yet call oneself strong? Me. But I have to be strong. I need to be strong as much as I don’t need to be guilty.

But why am I so guilty - as if I have caused it? So guilty that I’m ready to believe anyone who will tell me that too much of my blogging has caused the asthma. Matt’s asthma. Thank the stars that I’m not in the medical profession.

Will sleep now. Blogging obviously has addled my brain. Or is it lack of sleep because of blogging ?

-posted 22 Mar 1:12AM

***

HAPPY EASTER!

I woke up to a beautiful morning. I woke up to a creamy chocolate-y scented room. I would have thought I’m somewhere other than my room had it not for my son who was tugging at my arm and asking for “music” while pointing to my iPod.

In my groggy state, I looked around. There were puddles of brown liquid on his table and on the rubber mats. Remember the creamy chocolate-y scent I mentioned? I was not wrong. My son must be a god to the ants. And I have all the more reason to believe this when, fully awake now, I noticed that his cute little head was good gracious — all drenched with chocolate milk!

Later in the morning, I heard glass breaking and my mother calling out my name. My son, cool and innocent, was in the middle of all the mess.

So it cannot get worse than this ri—

*** PC reset***

(That was my two-year old son, he pressed the power button and I lost some of the things I’ve written.)

You know that your kid is spending to much time with their grandparent/s when they tell you:

Mama, sing -please - From Russia (With Love).