A False Alarm

 

Last Monday, I couldn't wait to pick Cruz up from daycare.  After a wonderful Spring Break week at home with him, Monday was kind of rude-awakening, back-to-reality for me.  My attempts to balance were put to the test yet again, especially after having an entire week at home to see how much I've been missing.  So, after saying goodbye to the last sophomore to leave my classroom, I hurried to daycare to say hello to my favorite little pupil.

When I arrived at daycare, I immediately noticed twenty or so adorable little munchkins lined up perfectly outside the main doors of the center.  Some seemed excited to have a breath of unexpected fresh air; however, others looked scared and worried, evidenced by a few fresh tears and white knuckles clasped tightly around the daycare employees' hands.  I wasn't used to this sight and my first thought was that it was a little chilly for recess.  

"The babies are in the back entrance of the church," one of the college girls said to me, recognizing me as 'Cruz's mom.'

"What's going on?" I asked, growing just slightly worried.

"Fire alarm," she replied.

After receiving the o.k. to enter the building, I went in search of my little.  I ran into Kari, the director, whose eyes immediately calmed my nerves.  

"Our system had a circuit issue.  No fire.  Cruz is holding down the fort in the baby room."

As I entered the baby room, I immediately went back to my daycare-working-days, particularly one that involved a tornado warning, a storage closet, and the task of occupying twelve, confused one-year-olds.  Empathy is a powerful tool.

Cruz's college 'girlfriends' looked flustered and beat.  They went in and out of the baby room, carrying babies on each hip.  Some cried, some literally screamed, and all looked utterly confused at the change of pace.  I immediately scanned the room for Cruz, but didn't seem him.

"Here we come!" shouted Chas, down the hall!  I watched as she pushed a crib into the room, one with wheels on the legs and clear plastic on the four sides, which allowed a perfect view of another add-to-the-baby-book sight I hope I never forget.  

There was Cruz, my brave little firefighter, on his tummy with his head up high, as if directing and overseeing the entire event.  On both sides of Cruz were two of his 'daycare friends,' two sweet little girls sound asleep in the crib.  He was protecting them, of course.  

It was one of those moments that begs no explanation, just lots and lots of laughter.  The girls and I stared at Cruz's big eyes and laughed until we were blue in the face.  He had no idea what was going on, but after seeing the smiles on our faces, cracked a sly smile himself.  A funny moment for Mom, a not-so-funny moment for the three girls who had to haul seven babies outside for a fire drill.  

It was a moment I wished I had my camera permanently attached to my hip.  My Cruz, the protector.    

Happy Love Month

Call it a Hallmark holiday, but I LOVE Valentine's Day.  Heck, I might as well put a giant heart over the entire month of February.  We ate too much during 'Turkey' month, soaked in the magic of Christmas month, and made it through the long, bitterly cold, January month.  February is all about celebrating love, and this year, well, I'm exploding and melting in it.  

There's something about Valentine's Day that brings back sweet little memories for me.  I remember sitting at the kitchen table with Mom, transforming shoe boxes into little mailboxes that would hold treasured Valentine's cards from my classmates.  I remember Mom always setting the table nice for our annual Valentine's Day dinner, with red napkins, a vase of red carnations, and little presents on our plates.  I remember hearing a knock on the door one Valentine's afternoon, my 5th grade love, Dana, standing at the door with a smile and a single red rose.  And I remember spending hours getting ready for the high school Valentine's Day dance, a gold necklace, and a kiss goodnight in the driveway of my parents' house. 


There's something about this month that makes me smile a little bit bigger, and love a little bit deeper.   That makes me want to bravely try that tube of bright red lipstick I just can't pull off, cut out a million construction paper hearts, or eat conversation hearts until my stomach hurts.  And there's something about this month that makes me want to soak my baby's cheek in wet kisses and write love notes to my hubby on the bathroom mirror.

Cruz is feeling much better and after two welcomed snow days last week, I am finally feeling back to my old self again.  At almost four months old, I'm pretty sure Cruz is in one of my favorite baby stages yet.  It seems he has learned so much this month, and we're starting to see the makings of a personality.  The best part of four months, though, is the smile.  Life is complete when I'm staring into his face, and I'm quite certain there's no greater accomplishment than making him smile.  My favorite is after I pick him up from day care, pile him in the car next to my school bag, lunch cooler, laptop, and diaper bag, and close the door for our short trek home.  I pull in the garage, lug my bags one by one onto my shoulders, and open Cruz's door.  But before pulling him out of his car seat, he almost always flashes me this little smile, one that has the power to move mountains and forget to-do lists.  A smile that says, 'We're home, Mommy.'

We're home. 
   

 

Good stuff to come this week!  I've been making up for my lack of pictures last week, and had some fun in the kitchen yesterday.  I'm usually not much for baking (aka, cake balls), however, yesterday, I was Martha Stewart reincarnate.  

   

 

 

Happy love month!  

We did it!

Well, we did it.  We (I) survived Cruz's first day of 'day care.'  I went back to work on Monday; however, Mom and Grandma helped me transition by coming to stay with our little buddy Monday through Wednesday.  It ended up being a great way for me to ease into this new routine.  I could just pretend I was out shopping for the day, call or text a hundred times to see how he was doing, and be content in the fact that he was in the comfort of his own home, with his own toys, and two women (and a Grandpa) that love him very much.  I still thought about him all day long, felt a twinge of guilt when I looked at his sweet little picture on my desk, and raced home as soon as that last student slowly trudged out of my classroom.  

This morning, well, it was possibly the worst form of torture I've ever been subject to.  I started attempting to swallow the lump that hardened in my throat as the minutes ticked away to 7:15.  Cruz was up, happy, and ready for a long day of play.  And we had to bundle him up, strap him in an awful car seat, and put him in a freezing cold car, only to abandon him at an unknown place, with unknown people, for a long, seven hour day.  Torture.

I cried the entire way to his day care.  Yep, as Cruz slept, perfectly content in the dark car with his little Gap hoodie up over his ears, I listened to the radio, cried, and recited 2 Corinthians 12:9 over and over again.  After we dropped him off, I felt even worse.  I pulled his little body out of his car seat, gave him a big kiss, and laid him on the playmat surrounded by every toy, baby saucer, and baby-thing one could think of.  I gave his lead teacher my typed instructions entitled, "Cruz Jorgensen Owner's Manual," and attempted to demonstrate our 'sleeper hold' position.  Cruz smiled as I left and I could see him begin to take in his new surroundings.  Walking down that hallway and getting into my car was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.  And I'm not exaggerating.  Torture. 

I called my mom and cried the rest of the way to school.  I cursed our society for creating a culture of working women and contemplated 'being sick' so I could go home and cuddle with my little one.  Torture.  

Although Cruz was probably thinking something like, "Where am I?  Wow, holy colors?  Whoa, he's my size!" when I dropped him off at day care this morning, in my mind it went something like this, "Mom!  Where are you going?  Why are you leaving me?  Take me with you!"  I had this nightmare vision of no one liking him, or paying attention to him, or of him crying all day long.  I felt uneasy, guilty, and upset at the fact that I had to go to work to take care of other peoples' kids, while someone else took care of mine.  Torture.

I believe the Lord works in our lives in mysterious ways, but when it came to daycare today, He didn't bother messing with me.  Picking Cruz up from day care was a completely different experience.  When I walked into the room, he was sitting in a bouncy seat like a perfect little angel.  He was making gurgling sounds at a sweet college girl sitting next to him as if trying to flirt with her.  Another college girl played with a baby on the other side of the play mat.  They greeted me with warmth and Cruz greeted me with a smile.  It was inviting, and happy, and comforting.  So inviting, that a part of me just wanted to stay and hang out.  Relief.

Cruz had a great first day of day care.  The director stopped by to comment on how good he was, and on his very first daily log sheet, his lead teacher commented that he was a very good boy and showed them lots of smiles.  He ate every four hours and took a three hour nap.  When I asked where the other babies were, the girls said they were on 'stroller rides.'  Indoor stroller rides in January?  Relief.     

I felt more excited to take him home, more excited to play with him, snuggle with him, and bond with him than ever before.  So proud of him for being a good little boy, and grateful for the experience and interaction he will gain at such a great place.  It's not about dwelling on the time I'm away from him, but making the most of the time I'm home with him. 

Cruz was so sweet when we got home.  He was all smiles on his changing table, as if glad to be back on familiar territory.  When I fed him his bottle, however, he barely made it through.  He was so tired!  I'm anxious to see how he sleeps tonight.  Beau has already confirmed that he will be working a half-day tomorrow, and is looking forward to a 'guy's afternoon' with Cruz.  I'm alreay looking ahead to a long, three-day weekend of snuggling and soaking up this baby. 

We made it.  Cruz rocked it.  All is well. 

Dear Cruz...

Tonight is Sunday and we just spent an hour in my bedroom, lying on the bed, sharing smiles, and playing with your toys.  I'm trying so hard to get you to giggle...I can tell you are so close.  You love the attention and have become quite the charmer...you smile all the time and have the sweetest little voice.  As we empty every toy you have onto the bed, I wonder what your voice will sound like when you are bigger and wonder if there will ever come a time when your smile doesn't make me want to explode with happiness.

I absolutely love nights like tonight.  These are the nights that it's all about.  Nights when I drown out the world around me, and climb into this safe little bubble of pajama pants, warm bed covers, and baby feet.  I get lost in your face and can't take my eyes off you.  You, of course, are oblivious to all, which makes moments like these even sweeter.  It's amazing that such a small, innocent, unknowing thing can bring such life to a person's world.

As I look ahead to my last week of maternity leave, I pray for so many nights like this.  Nights and moments that give me the power to let go and live contentedly in this bubble we have created.  I pray that I can balance life as a mother and teacher, wife and teacher, and that I don't dwell on the minutes I will miss, but make the most of the minutes that I have.  And most of all, I pray that the bond we have formed the past 13 weeks isn't broken by day care.  I pray that this transition is a good one for us as a family, that we get into a routine that only makes us stronger. 

I am so thankful I've had this time at home with you.  You are such a good boy and I am so proud to be your mommy.  Here's to living in a bubble for one more week.  I'm shooting for a giggle, little one, and am running out of ridiculous faces to make it happen.  It's up to you now!

I love you so much...

Mom