Sometimes it seems like I never leave my house.  Especially on rainy days.  I play a game called "Where in the Hell Can I Take Declan".  Maybe it's because I live in Lawrence and, let's face it, we don't have all the variety in the world.  Maybe it's because Declan is in constant motion and places like Target aren't exactly a fun trip out.  Declan ends up squirming and demanding cookies: duck-dee.  Imagine this: I'm walking at an inappropriately quick pace (it helps Declan if he's still moving at his normal speed), shrieking giggles and loud thumps can be heard across the store from me (Declan enjoys throwing things out of the cart and thinks it's really funny when I bend down to pick them up), all followed by an almost constant beat of "duck-dee?"

Declan's "vocabulary" has really exploded.  Or I should say his attempt at vocabulary...because I know what he's saying, even if you don't.  Dada, for example, means both Daddy and Doggie.  Nuh means nose, no, and sometimes keys (hmm...one of these things is not like the other).  Vava means flower and water, but voo voo means poop even if my mom swears he calls poop baba.  Yaya means yes and blankie.  And, well, you get the picture.  He is absolutely itching to talk and tell me all of those things in his head.  Things like: "Mom, give me a cookie right now and I don't want that stupid vegetable, I said give me a cookie!"

Reminds me of a little cartoon and his cheesy poofs.  

Time After Time

In what used to be every week, but now seems to be sporadic postings, I highlight for my millions of readers (and by millions I mean five) what it's like for me to be a mom. I've been gifted with lots of ammunition for an entertaining read. Declan and his ever-reaching hands have assured that I'm never lacking in stories. And while I'm almost never clean, groomed, and fed, I'm always, always on my toes. And sometimes I just want a break. I just want to recline lavishly in a chair and have my feet rubbed.

I think every mom feels like that from time to time. What we don't always realize though, is that this baby that tears through the house and wipes graham cracker on my favorite skirt and throws whole bowls of applesauce on my new curtains is growing up.

And from last Tuesday on, everything new Declan does will take him further away from the baby that he was to his grandma Lauri. It was a sad day when we learned that Lauri had breast cancer, heartbreaking when we found out it had spread aggressively, and tragic when we saw her deteriorate at the end. But in the time between her diagnosis and her death, Lauri loved Declan with every ounce of strength she had. And like all precious, fleeting things, it is only in reflection that I can truly appreciate how much he meant to her.

And I'm so sad that he won't grow up basking in that love. We'll all recount it to him. We'll tell him how he gave her kiss after kiss on her last day and how she'd pick him up and hold him even when the cancer was reeking havoc on her bones. And how she didn't care if it hurt, it was worth it just to hold him. But it won't be the same as loving her in real time.

All she talked about when I was pregnant and in the first months of his life was having Grandma and Declan days. She wanted to take him to the zoo, spoil him with sweets, and spend her retirement watching him grow. And they'll both miss those great times.

There are many tragedies at work here, but since this blog is about Declan, I'll stick to this one. Looking through pictures of her, there was a special light in her eyes when she was with Declan. What a lucky kid! With all the possibilities out there, Dec was gifted not only with parents who love him, but grandparents who adore him.

So I'll try to do those things with him in her memory. And I'll make sure he sees her pictures and listens to the stories and knows that at her funeral so many people that I hadn't met knew all about Declan and how important he was in her last year. And I hope that somehow, somewhere when he grows up, he has a little bit of her with him.