I passed through shock, horror, really pissed off, and sad in about 7 seconds. Roo was offering up some type of explanation that involved Spiderman. Oy vey.

Bear, seeing I’m in a bad way, takes one look at me and starts to sing Dona Nobis Pacem to cheer me up. 

What followed was an unknown number of minutes filled with crazy mommy ranting, googling Children’s Tylenol overdose, feeling like the world’s worst mother for leaving the safety cap off 20 minutes earlier, crazy mommy ranting, scrolling through  search results like “tylenol can kill your children”, trying to remember how full the bottle was,  crazy mommy ranting, finding some reliable information on the Mayo Clinic site, and some calculations. (What did moms do before iphones?)

I was relieved to see he couldn’t be at the threshold for seeking emergency help, but still concerned as Roo doesn’t otherwise fall into the “typical” category when it involves anything related to digestion.

Deep breath. Moving on.

But hey, the blog’s not dead, it’s only a flesh wound!

The urgent matters of life have been running the show lately. Health, money, yada yada. Many of you have been supporting/bailing me out in different ways, and I so appreciate it. Thank you.

I’m slowly climbing out of that mode now, which is good. I’ve made some time to connect with several friends in “real life” over the last couple of weeks. The need to do that was getting critical. And now, I just want to reconnect with writing here and with whoever may be reading.

So many things I’d like to be writing down. All about the sentence fragments tonight. Brain sludge…

See you soon? Here’s hoping.

Love, Naomi

We love you. Get well soon.

-Limerick of the Day #3

I’m stalling, aren’t I?

Without further adieu, here’s poem #2:
There once was a little boy Bear
Who never sat still in his chair
He’ll spin for an hour
That’s his super power
But somehow his teachers won’t care

There once was a little boy named Roo
Who always had trouble with poo
He won’t use the potty
It’s not that he’s naughty
Butt what’s a poor mommy to do?

Actually, just as I was beginning to type, Roo woke up, sat up, gave me a big grin and then rested his head on side and went back to sleep. Typing is a bit tricky at the moment. I can’t let that stop me, though, because after a 3-month hiatus I’m back and ready to write.

There are some different reasons for the recent break, although I never intended it to be this long. I’m happy to say I haven’t spent the time beating myself up about not writing, either. There were some practical things I needed to focus on, and it’s good to have a bunch of that stuff behind me.

But there was something more than that. It was time for me to find my rhythym, for us to find our rhythym, to simply roll through the days without analyzing the heck out of it. It was time to circle the wagons, deal with some issues, and have as many fun campfires as possible in the process. We dropped preschool in January and made the big change in sleep arrangements a few months later. Those changes felt good, and it was time to see how everything was going to fall into place.

Not that anything felt in place today. Today was a cranky day where every attempt to turn the corner just fell apart every couple of minutes. Ugh. But overall, what a difference a year makes. It was a little over a year ago that I wrote my first blog entry. Woohoo, first blog anniversary and all that.

I’ll leave you with a little poem I wrote and posted one year ago today.

Being A Mom is
like Going To Prom;
it can never
live up to the hype.

But unlike the dance,
there’s no romance
in saying we’ve
been up all night.

–

See you again soon. Thanks for reading. -Naomi

He’s always had a profound sensitivity to sound — like the time the smoke alarm went off in the house. He wouldn’t go to sleep that night until I removed the smoke alarm and it’s bracket from the wall in his room. (The one that went off was in the kitchen.)  For the next year, the first thing he did when walking in a new room was check for smoke detectors.

I often wonder how much this affects his day to day anxiety and behavior. Hard to tell.

About 30 minutes earlier I rocked Bear back to sleep. (He’s 3.5 years old and 40 lbs now.) I’m guessing that was gas pain, and the rocking helps.

They’ve been back to sleep quite awhile now, but I’m still awake… figured it was finally time to come out of hibernation mode on the blog. Good to be back.

Isaac/Speedracer: “Hi, what are your names?”

Reggie/other cars:  “We’re Reggie and Isaac! We’re not twins. We’re a year apart!”

When I say we have the “twin conversation” with someone almost every time we go out public, I’m not kidding.

Actually, now they have switched over to being “sneaky” and “stealing” all the underwear so they can put as many pairs on at once while I’m “not paying attention.”

I love not paying attention…

Wait a minute, they just came in and closed my door. I better go see what they are doing.

This is what I get when I tell Bear he needs to sit at the table to eat his lollipop… not exactly what I had in mind, but not surprising either. Metaphorically speaking, I feel I get a response like this from Roo and Bear for just about every little thing I may ask them to do. It is entertaining at first, exhausting after awhile, and exasperating by the end of the day…