December 2011 Faves



11.25.2011  I lied.  Some of these photos are from November.  This was taken at "Five" in Edmonds.  Decent Food. Good Drinks.  Great Friends.  (Sorry Grace, my giant head is totally cutting you off!)





11.26.2011  Albee:  "Hey, can I get someone in here who can actually read"?





11.26.2011  Ronnie:  "Hold on Claire.  Just because they tell us to smile doesn't mean we have to."   




12.17.2011  Happy Hour with friends before our holiday dinner at Assaggios.  (Doesn't this look like a Clairol hair color ad?  Everyone's IS looking shiny and healthy.  Must be the alcohol.)



12.17.2011  Our husbands at the (end of the) Assaggio dinner.   I feel like this photo is crying for those little cartoon word balloons.

12.21.2011  Stella's Christmas Music Program.  Poor thing.  She spent the entire month of December practicing Rudolf the Red Nose Reindeer and learning how to sign "Feliz Navidad" - only to be completely paralyzed by stage fright.  She sat there, just like that, for nearly 10 minutes.     

12.22.2011  Me and the Bear

12.22.2011  Story time with Nonna and Papa.



12.24.2011  "These are cookies?  You're kidding me!  I had no idea."  



12.25.2011  Shortly after Thanksgiving, we asked Stella what she wanted for Christmas.  She was very clear.  A jack in the box.  A princess cape.   And new books.  The list never changed. 
Santa did not disappoint. 



12.25.2011  I love matching pajamas.







The blind leading the blind.

  



1.2.2012  I forgot to take a photo of the girls in their dresses on Christmas.  So, on the day I decided to take down all the holiday decorations, I thought I'd snap one for the ol' memory book.  I tried for ten minutes to get a picture of the two of them sitting (quietly?) next to each other.  Instead, I got this one.  Stella doing the electric slide and Claire throwing ornaments.  Sounds about right. 



12.14.2011

Claire had tubes put in her ears.  Although I know this is a routine procedure, I really struggled with the idea of her being under full anethesia. 

The day of the surgery, we took her to Children's Hospital.  After a short wait in the lobby, we were escorted to an intake room where Claire would be put to sleep and then wheeled into the operating room.  The nurse anesthetist pointed to a machine near the bed. 

"This is the computer that administers the drowsy drugs."

She held up a tiny mask in one hand and patted the bed with the other.  "You'll hold her down and we'll put this over her face until she stops moving."

My eyes started welling.

"Hold her down?" I said.  "How long will it take"? 

"Not long.  She's so small it will only take a few seconds."

Was it too late to stop this? 

As we waited, my anxiety grew.  We went out into the hall and the nurse gave us some bubbles to entertain Claire.  She played with them for awhile and then took off down the hall, making a last minute break for it.  I didn't blame her.  I was ready to follow her out the door.

The surgeon finally arrived.
I laid Claire down on the bed.  Sensing something was about to happen, she started screaming - flinging herself side to side and trying to sit upright.  I grabbed her shoulders and pressed her arms to her sides.  We locked eyes, both of us acknowledging our panic and my betrayal.

"It's okay Claire Beary," I whispered. 

I put my lips to her cheek.  The taste of her tears tainted by the bubblegum scented gas escaping from the mask.  Her muffled cries grew weaker.  I pulled back to see her eyes fluttering shut.

"She's almost there."

"You're doing good baby," I said, my voice trembling. She opened and closed her mouth.  No sounds came out.

Her body went limp.

The nurse nodded at us, "We'll be back before you know it."

I stared at Claire's motionless body on the hospital bed.  My guts felt like they were  crawling out of my body.  I leaned into Justin.  He quietly cleared his throat and turned me towards the door.

A overly cheerful woman in skin tight bright purple pants and a red billowing blouse was suddenly there handing me a Kleenex.  I recongized her as the greeter from the lobby.  "Everyone loses it.  Don't worry.  It's hard to see your kid like that."  Walking us back to recovery, she assured us, "She's going to be fine."

Amazingly, after only a few minutes, a nurse came into the room and told us the surgery was almost done.  "Be prepared,"  she said.  "They wake up violently.  It's a very rough transition out of anethesia."
 
When they wheeled her in, Claire was completely still.  My heart lurched.  I looked closely.  Her chest was moving.  Softly.  Up.  Down.

Then, as quickly as she had fallen asleep, she was awake.  Her head jostled back and forth on the bed.  The nurse quickly removed her breathing tube and placed her in my arms.  I was  immediately overwhelmed.   Claire thrashed and flailed so hard I thought she was having a seizure.  I tried to hold her over my shoulder.  But, I couldn't support her neck.  I craddled her, which was better, but still difficult.  She squirmed.  I sweat.  At one point, I passed her to Justin thinking I couldn't hang on any longer.  But, I quickly pulled her back.

On nurse's orders, Justin squirted apple juice down Claire's throat.  "It will help her snap out of it."

Inexplicably, it worked.

Dazed and confused, Claire looked slowly around the room, taking in her surroundings.  "Hey baby girl,"  Justin said quietly, offering her a teddy graham.  She quickly gobbled it up and demanded "more." Five minutes later she was still shoveling crackers in and staring off into space - mindlessly nibbling the back of the hand she was using to keep all her treats from falling out of her mouth.

Finally, she turned to me and smiled.  "Mama" she said, reaching a wet, cracker crusted finger towards my nose.  "Claire Walla."  I replied, squeezing her hard. "Let's get out of here."