It’s going to be a good day. I can tell.

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Ella, Henry, tantrums

Because Ella Louise got up at 5:30.  Or some other ungodly hour.  I know, because I got up a little bit before her, and I was huddled under a blanket downstairs.  But I couldn’t see the clock because my eyes were frozen because the thermostat is all messed up so the heat was not heating.   

The Man put her back to bed.  Then he got in the shower. 

Then Ella Louise got up again. 

Then I put her back to bed. 

Then Ella Louise got up again. 

Then I put her back to bed again. 

Then Ella Louise got up again. 

Then The Man had had enough of that business and brought her downstairs.  She snuggled right up to me on the couch because it was still slightly freezing.  And also, she was trying to butter me up.

Then the morning continued normally.  Until we went to the bus stop.  Which is when Ella Louise decided that she would be riding the bus to school today.  Only she’s two, and doesn’t go to school.  So I carried her, kicking and screaming, all the way home, laughing at what the neighbors must think.  Whatever.

Then Ella Louise had a second breakfast, which Henry made for her.  I was going to do it, but he insisted.  Then sweet little Ella Louise tried to push Henry off the chair, for what reason I do not know.  Then she threw a tantrum because she wanted to write thank you notes like Henry.  I gave her a note card and a red pen. 

Moments later, Henry was over there throwing a fit about the wii game not working.  So I diverted my attention for 4 seconds to help him, and came back to find Ella with a pair of scissors, trying to cut her jammies.  Luckily, she is not too skilled with the scissors.

She is drawing happy faces right now, and brushing her hair from her face the way she does.  And I think she looks like a complete angel in her pink teddy bear jammies.

This Mama Loves this Baby

Tags

children with hearing loss, Henry

Henry can’t hear.  Well, he can, but you have to nearly yell in order for him to hear you.  When I first found out that he had a hearing loss, I felt a terrible sense of sadness.  Sadness that he couldn’t hear the rain, or the birds, or the wind in the trees.  He probably didn’t know my voice.  He didn’t hear me when I sang to him.  It broke my heart that he was surviving and coping in a hearing world, but couldn’t hear what we all could.  At night, I would snuggle in his bed with him until he fell asleep.  I watched him drift off, not knowing whether or not to sing, not knowing how to communicate with my beautiful little boy.  The tears rolled freely down my cheeks on more than one occasion.  Then one night, I looked at him and he at me, and I put my finger to my nose and said “This Mama…” and then I touched his nose and said “Loves this baby.”  He grinned widely, and signed “more” to me, so I repeated it again, and again, and again.  And this became our bedtime ritual.  And this ritual reminds me of how wonderfully lucky I am to be the mama of this baby.