14 September, 2008
We had a very nice day today, visiting with Grandma, unpacking yet more boxes, cleaning up dead mice. Rather than being grossed out like his mother, Noah, in his ever so sensitive tendency, decided that the best approach to handle such issues was to build a special bed for the "lost" mice. This way, they would have a nice cozy bed to sleep in, food to eat, water to drink, and they would not die. And he really does come up with all this stuff on his own.
He then began the thoughtful process of building the house. An old basket of Mama's, fabric he cut from some left-overs Grandma brought us, a pillow, and pop-corn from our snack. I will digress slightly here when I tell you that he also included a small syringe filled with water. This tiny syringe actually fed this very boy, when he was a wee 4 pound fighter in the Special Care Nursery at MGH and was too small to drink his Mama's milk independently. I would cradle him and slowly drop my milk into his mouth, my tiny bird. Of course he remembers none of this. To him it is just a cool play thing. Not that simple for me.
I love my boys endlessly, so much that I think it actually bothers people sometimes. For this I offer no apologies. I think them spectacular.
Mama's milk what seems like just yesterday. And yet nearly four years later...a mouse house.