baby maximus: he owns me

I was thinking about my blog title.  Because sometimes you choose things that are so funny and relevant at the time but then as time goes by it's not so relevant and therefore not so funny.  But this story keeps cracking me up... Samuel climbs in our bed one morning.  Cuddles up to me.  Karl tries to put his arm around me, too.  Samuel, annoyed, says, "Get your own mom."  

Own mom.  

He owns me.  

All my kids own me.  

I shouldn't be saying I have three kids when I describe myself.  

I should be saying three kids own me.  

At least that's the way I have been feeling.  It's okay.  I signed up for this.  

 It's fun to feed people that love to eat, right?  Max loves to eat.  And he just has this look that makes you want to feed him. Maybe that's one of the characteristics of a therapy baby is that they are fun to feed.  But lately he hasn't been eating much.  It's sad.  

It doesn't stop most from trying.  The guy a few rooms down from us (that is out already, *sigh*) saw us walking past a few times and asked the nurse if it was okay if he gave Maximus a Kit Kat.  Look at Maximus try to hold it.  So funny.  

And my sister's family discovered that Maximus thinks dum-dums are awesome. 

And gold fishy crackers showed up in the mail all the way from Kauai from his sweet aunty Kat that always feeds him gold fishy crackers at the beach or at church.  

Or how about that two pound box of chocolate from his grandma and grandpa.  I was even letting him take one bite out of one and then go for another.  I usually hate that.  

Or letting Samuel feed him grape juice out of a can?  Sounds messy, right?  It was.  LIttle grape juice specks everywhere.  

But I let all these things happen because I want him to eat. 

Oh, and because he really really owns me right now.

You know what says when he wants something?

He says, "Mom!"  It doesn't necessarily mean me.  It seriously means that he wants something and he wants it now.

Physical therapists come in everyday.  They play a little, they move his hands a little, they show us how to move his hands.  So he is trying to get Maximus to push a button on a toy.  Maximus pulls out his foot and pushes the button.  The physical therapist laughs, "I haven't seen that before."  

and he didn't even see Maximus eat with his feet.  The thing is, he can pick things up with his right hand but he still thinks it's fun to pick it up with his hand, stick it in his toes and then eat it.  

And I let him.  Because he owns me right now.  And it's pretty funny.  

I posted this on FB, but here's is a 10 second video of it.  

Today they changed the dressings on his left hand from a giant club/paw and slimmed it down to more of a small paddle.  A momentous occasion, after three and half weeks of not being able to hold up his own cup, he can now hydrate himself.  

No more teddy bear muffin paws for this boy.  He is down to a temporary compression glove and sleeve on his right and a paddle on his left.  Both his thighs are wrapped but he is IV free.  It left a yucky mark on his foot, but it is gone.   As it heals, his right thigh itches real bad.  He keep scratching.  And being bugged by it.  Poor guy. 

When we get antsy from sitting in the hospital room, we go for walks to the other connecting hospitals.  Primary's has these fake fish that Maximus stared at for a long time.  When we first got to the hospital he wouldn't sit in it.  I had to sit in there with him.

You know, because he owns me.  

But now he is used to it, loves going for rides, and whimpers when he realizes we are back at the burn unit.  

Maximus is surviving the hospital with yummy treats, TV, books, singing, toys, wagon rides and making me his personal slave.

I am surviving with awesome electronics (I love technology), knowing this will end soon (like,  the doctor told us Maximus can leave this Friday), and figuring out which cafeteria has the best mint brownies.   

So, ya, it looks like we are leaving Friday.  I am nervous to keep Maximus safe in a different environment but other than that, this is very good news.

And, when we are all under the same roof, my kids can own me all at once instead of shifts.