So, while little can top the four-hour ordeal of Liam’s rock-up-his-nose episode, here are a few more one-liners that come to mind to commemorate Will’s 6th birthday and Liam’s Forever Family Day (we brought Liam home from Korea three years ago). Around birthdays and forever family days, I try to jot down a few key quotes or moments that kind of sum up the people they are at that moment in time. Those things that they say or do that we think ‘we’ll never forget that!’ and then poof, something else takes the place of the last best tidbit.
Here are the highlights…
After hearing a crash from the dining room, I hear Liam say, “Awww mannnn, I shouldn’t have done that! Mom, we need some tape!” While he was raising the sails on his pirate ship, the mast broke. Translation: While he was playing with the blinds, the valance fell off the wall.
The question from Will’s teacher that always makes me gasp: “Do you want to know what Will told me today?” And this time he said: “Guess what, my mom has… farm muscles.” Letting out a big breath, I replied, “Ahh, yes I do!”
If Will starts to cry, it takes a lot to get through that emotion; deep breathing works best. When mad at me and in tears one day, Will refused to do deep breathing with me, “I’ll do it with Liam but not with you!” Liam’s little head spun toward Will. They locked eyes and Liam took the lead, calming Will down with one deep breath after another.
Less than a week after my first surgery (and after the above deep breathing exercise), Liam was doing somersaults on our bed and his foot landed about two inches from my incision. I started taking HUGE deep breaths, sucking nearly all the air from the room. Liam looked at me and asked, “Does deep breathing help, Mom? Next time stay out of my way.” I’ve since adopted many protective stances.
Liam is finding his els! Weam is Liam. Towo is towel.
Beautiful noises: the men in my life laughing… Bill’s boisterous laugh; Will’s giggles and Liam’s chortles. It’s an elated symphony when happening simultaneously.
The great fake out: Liam charging full-steam toward me with that grin – while I’m raising my arms in defense – stopping short, he looks up at me and says, “Which side hurts, Mom?” Then he gently kisses my arm on that side and jumps up on my lap on the opposite side. Knowing the strength behind that all-out run, I wouldn’t want to be the opponent facing Liam on the football field in 12 years.
Last Friday picking Liam up from school: “Hey Mom, is your arm OK now?” Me: “Yes, it feels pretty good now.” Liam: “Sooo… It’s OK now?” Me: “Yes, it feels good.” Liam: “Can I roll down the hill now?” Me, not following the string of conversation but going with it: “Sure you can…”
After Bill has persistently explained for days, perhaps weeks, that there is not a snow monster in our house, we finally realized that when Liam hears “There’s no monster!” he is processing it as “There, snow monster!”
Will has written a book about our family. There’s a different sized stick person on every page: each of us at different ages in our lives.
At school, Will drew a picture of his family and labeled each of us with our ages. I’m 33! And even when his teacher asked him if he was sure about that, he stuck with it! That’s my boy!!
Will: “Chemo and Kibo sound a lot alike.” Kibo is the Japanese lab on the space station.
The fascination with tape continues: Coming home from the 2nd surgery, I have new, big bandages on. Liam’s excited, “You have new tracks, Mom?” The wrinkles in the tape are train tracks.
Liam steaming toward me with Scotch tape. “I have more for you, Mom!” He also has a flat tan “Lego band-aid” in his other hand.
Will: “Mom, we’re going spelunking!” Translation: We need flashlights. We’re going to the basement in the dark.
Liam, at the breakfast table yelling at my laptop that's open on the counter, “GRANDMA, ARE YOU THERE?” Webcam and Skype: a beautiful combination.