Back from Bermuda

This family hardly ever takes weeklong vacations. It's my fault. I've been chained to my mouse colony almost since we've been married--can't leave them for more than 3 days. But finally, the papers are almost done and the mouse babysitting duties have significantly decreased, so I can leave them for a whole week. And when one of my summer teaching jobs got canceled and I had two months of flexible schedule, Jim announced that we were going away. Somewhere. For a whole week. But we didn't have much time to plan on such short notice, so we booked a cruise to Bermuda. You can only cruise two places out of Boston: Bermuda and Canada. Not that we don't love Canada, but... So on two weeks of notice we put the cruise on the calendar. I told the kids all the things that would be there and their eyes got bigger and bigger. We packed up and took an Uber car (Jim's new crush) to the cruise terminal. The kids didn't really believe me that it was a boat because it looked like a hotel. We spent the first afternoon exploring the boat and dancing on the pooldeck. Jed was in as soon as they started playing "Gangnam Style". The kid can't walk across the pool deck all week without a hip swivel. They don't really understand the words, though--after a few tries they settled on "Hey, chilly lady!" Find that poor woman a sarong for her shoulders; she can't have mine, the kids are obsessed with it. They were in a singing mood that day. We've been teaching them the Doxology so that they can participate in the singing in church, and took the opportunity to sing it as loud as possible all afternoon all over the boat. Next day was the sail to Bermuda. We took the kids to the kids' pool and water slide area in the morning. Jed is water slides and Gus is calm pool; their swim styles say a lot about their personalities. In the afternoon we took them to kids' club to play. Jed was fine, but in Gus's class they started teaching them circus tricks. Gus couldn't do them straight off, and somebody laughed at him, and then he was just miserable so I picked them up early and we had snack instead. The cruise we went on doesn't have scheduled seating; you can show up whenever you want at the nice restaurants or the buffet. We had eaten the buffet on the first night and wanted to try restaurant for the second night; unfortunately it was "dress-up night" and everyone else wanted to eat in the restaurants too. We waited about 45 minutes for a table and then had ridiculously slow service (I'm quietly wondering if they make this night difficult to encourage people to go to the expensive restaurants later in the week instead). But the kids did well and earned some video games the next day. On the third day we arrived in Bermuda. We started by swimming the kids around in the big pool, then had a late second breakfast. By that time we'd moored and we all headed downtown. Bermuda is in the shape of a fishhook, and the cruise termainal is at the Royal Dockyard which is way at the end. In order to get anywhere more interesting, you have a bus ride of an hour or a ferry ride of 20 minutes. We voted ferry, but it only leaves once an hour. During the wait, Jed discovered that you could see fish in the shallow water. Huge schools of minnows, some bigger fish eating the minnows, and some yellow striped fish we called bumblebee fish. Once we got to Hamilton, the main city, it was HOT and time for lunch. After that we didn't have much exploring time left so we went to a local oceanography museum called BUEI. The kids loved it, we loved it, and everyone should be eating lionfish. When we got back to the boat, they were playing "Gangnam Style" again and Jim rode on down the tiny hallway, taking up all the available space with limbs flying. The kids talked about that all week. After the previous night's debacle we were going to eat at the buffet again, but Gus begged for the nice restaurant because they had excellent macaroni and cheese, so we went to the other, slightly nicer, restaurant. The wait and service were reasonable the rest of the week (enough people were scared off?) and the kids learned that "dressing up" for dinner means putting on a nicer pair of shorts. They did a great job all week having dinner in the restaurants with napkin in lap and behaving (mostly). Jim took them to play the videogames they had earned the previous evening and Jed fell in love with skeeball. Jed loves to hold things in his hot little hands, and skeeball gives you tickets --it's like the game that pays you back! Day four was our only full day in Bermuda. We had hoped to see Crystal Caves, but since it's clear on the other side of the island it just wasn't doable in half a day, so we went to Fort Scaur instead. You can get there by local bus; the driver was a little concerned, since the entrance is 2 blocks from the bus stop and there's no sidewalk. However, the roads are so curvy that traffic doesn't go very fast, and half the traffic are scooters anyhow which take up less space. We taught the kids the meaning of "single file" and came in a back entrance which was thoroughly explored (including a jungle portion which left us shaking off ants and amazed at the armored spiders) before we went into the fort itself. We brushed off our ants and explored the fort. The fort was constructed to protect the Dockyard, and we could see the cruise ship from the top of the hill. It was well maintained and explained, with lots of staircases inside the hill to explore. The last entry in the guest book was 3 days ago, so no large tours for the kids to interfere with, really the perfect size for us. We exited at the main drive and Jim scouted out the nearest bus stop while the kids and I had some munchies, and then we headed back for lunch. That afternoon we took a fantastic tour. The first part was in the open air of a small boat, hearing about Bermuda and some of its history. We passed a feeding ground for visiting sea turtles and saw a couple really well as they came up to breathe. Then we went to a shipwreck site (the ocean surrounding Bermuda is covered with shipwrecks) and gathered in the bottom of the boat to see the site and the fish through glass. This was Jed's favorite part of the day. Then we went to a snorkeling site with a tiny beach. Gus practiced with his mask and snorkel on the boat and decided he could do it. Jed tried, changed his mind, was bummed out and tried again, but just couldn't handle all the stuff on his face, so we played on the beach and looked at the fish in the shallows. My biologist heart wants to think he'll be a naturalist when he says "Mommy! Look at that fish!" but it's immediately followed by "I want to eat it!" Not a naturalist, a chef. Jim and Gus swam off with their snorkels. After about 30 minutes they came back our way and I asked Gus what he saw. "I saw coral, Mommy. I saw the brain!" Jim took Jed to try out the water slide on the boat, and Gus and I snorkeled around a bit more before it was time to head back. On the way home I had local ginger beer, Jim had rum swizzle, and my poor deprived children were in raptures over their cups of Coke. "Mommy! It's SO yummy!" Day five, last day at Bermuda. We took the bus down to Elbow Beach on the south Shore to see the pink sand. It's pink and very very fine; I was still shaking it out of my ears the next day. The water temperature was fantastic. Jim and Gus bobbed in the swells and Jed and I played in the shallow waves. We dug a few holes and built a sand castle that looked like coral, and after a couple hours of beach, Gus fell asleep on the bus back to the Dockyard. We had lunch and then shopping for souvenirs: necklaces with and without shark teeth, a Christmas tree ornament with pink sand inside, and some sea glass. Then an early dinner and all went to see a fantastic Cirque-like show before bed. Day six, back at sea. The kids club in the afternoon was doing more circus stuff, so we brought the kids in the morning. Today Gus's group was engineering ways to keep an egg safe. Jim and I did a crossword puzzle and played trivia. It was television trivia; and even though Jim knows way more random information than he should, we still bombed it. After lunch we traded off time in the sunshine watching the kids at the kids' pool. In the late afternoon there was face painting on the pool deck and Gus was a fearsome pirate and Jed a terrifying tiger. Day seven, last day at sea, looked much the same. General trivia this time: Jim's knowledge of random facts is a bit terrifying, and I filled in his (minor) holes and we won. The prize was beer coozies, solving the firstest of first-world problems, that my beer is TOO COLD. This morning Gus's group was building legos and Jed was offered a part in the circus show, so after lunch and some time at on the water slides, Jed went to rehearse and we all dried off to see him in the afternoon. His group was the fierce tigers, so he got to spend a second day in tiger face paint (some of the orange is still on his face). He marched across the stage and growled and jumped through the ring of fire (twice). These last couple of days we could really have used an indoor playground; there wasn't anywhere without a lot of sunshine for them to burn off energy, so the ramminess really set in. Day eight, we woke up and everyone helped pack. After breakfast we headed home. Jim went to the office to deal with his >1000 emails, and I dropped off the kids at camp and school to re-integrate asap. We slid right into Friday pizza-and-movie night and are readjusting back to normal. It was a great time, but we loved the island way more than the boat, so next time we'll just fly to Bermuda and spend a lot more time there.

Memorial Day 2013

What a weekend. Gus has been begging for a visit to the Children's Museum, so we started with that on Saturday morning. We arrived right after opening and the line was out the door. When we left at lunchtime, the line was still out the door. That's par for a rainy Saturday. Jed spent as much time as possible climbing the big structure, and then they took turns picking places to play. After the museum, we went to the local seafood place for lunch. Jed bopped wordlessly to Michael Jackson while we waited for lunch, and then he tore into Jim's salad. Gus shared some clam chowder, and I showed him the difference between and clam and a potato. Then we hung out at home for a while and I prepped half of a picnic. We headed to our (reasonably) local drive-in theater. It was raining, so there was practically no one else there. Unfortunately it was also too wet for our typical picnic outside, so after picking up the rest of the picnic at the snack bar, we put the rear seats down and spread a blanket out, and had a picnic *inside* the hatchback. The kids loved it, I was okay, and Jim had to be extracted afterwards. Then we settled in to see the movie, Jim and me sitting against the front seats and the kids on our laps, covered with blankets. We saw Epic, which was not the world's greatest movie but was absolutely gorgeous and had some great jumping-off points for imagination. Gus dreamed about riding a hummingbird that night. After the movie was over, Jim stretched out some more, we put the back seat back up and strapped in the kiddos. Gus was super-tired by then, but suddenly woke up and said with alarm that we hadn't had dinner. "Yes, we did," I said, "we had a picnic inside the car. That was pretty crazy!" "No," Jed said emphatically. "That was awesome." The next movie was Star Trek--Gus was awake for the first ten minutes. No "Gus beep car" this time. Home about 1:30 a.m.; brought kids inside still in sweatshirts and put them to bed. Everyone slept as late as possible, but we made it to church on time. Another slow afternoon, and then the neighbors joined us for an indoor picnic on the floor. Everyone had a blast. Our neighbor toddler had watermelon for the first time and tore into it like a Tyrannosaurus. They're from Mexico, so when she said my guacamole was the best she's had in years, I felt pretty good about it. Addicted the dad to the same puzzle ball that entrapped Kyle after Christmas. That thing is dangerous. Another late to bed. But we wanted to see the parade in Cambridge on Monday morning, so we set an alarm again and got everyone on the move. I wore red and dressed both kids in blue American superhero shirts. Jim may still be a little bitter that when he showed up wearing a Google I/O shirt I called him a corporate hack, but he changed his shirt and called me out on the Gap hat I was wearing later (one of my other baseball caps has mysteriously disappeared, and then Gus stole my hat. He also steals my socks. Yes, he's 6. Yes, I must be Tinker Bell). We didn't get started quite quickly enough, and so arrived in Cambridge just after the start of the parade. Drove right into a spot in Harvard Square that seemed too good to be true, and walked up the parade route to meet Uncle Mike and Aunt Sarah. I'm getting weepy in my old age; all I did was point out to Jed that there were the soliders, and I about burst into tears on the sidewalk. One of the parade drivers tossed a piece of candy right at Jed, who couldn't believe his good fortune. He told everyone for 10 minutes that the soldier gave him candy, and then spent the next 10 minutes looking for another piece for Gus so that he wouldn't have to share it (successful mission). After the parade ended we played for a little while, but Jed wanted to go re-scour the streets for candy so it didn't last long. It was about a mile to the boat rental place, but we figured they'd never be happier to walk that far so off we went. After a few blocks a gentleman we were passing exclaimed, "Those kids don't have flags!" and gave us two. Apparently we'd broken a rule of Memorial Day in Cambridge, and were preceded by a color guard for the next half mile. The kids got a bit cranky near the end, but when Jim increased speed to try to take care of paperwork before we all arrived, they had enough energy to chase him down. No yellow jersey for Daddy. We rented a canoe with two big paddles and two little paddles (and lifejackets of course) for a 5-mile trip downstream to Kendall Square. Jim and I are out of paddling shape and I'm sure we'll be sore tomorrow, but it was fun. I sunscreened my face but not my arms which are now pretty pink. We passed a goose family with 5 goslings, and a lot of brown and white ducks, and a fishing bird that I didn't know what its name was, and a bunch of little sailboats and at least 12 bridges. We passed a scull and Jed hollered, "Ahoy, matey!" Gus was feeling a serious lack of snack (usually I would have had one but we were in such a hurry that I forgot) and whined for the last 15 minutes or so, but eventually we got everyone paddling to speed our way to lunch. It was a gorgeous day. The trip was about 1.5 hours on the river; we've rowed in Jamaica Pond before but had never made it up to the Charles before. Caught the T from Kendall Square back to Harvard Square and met the long-suffering aunt and uncle for lunch who we'd now met late twice. Washed hands well of river water. Nachos and guacamole. Back home for some rest and then finished out the day with a trip to the park, another picnic on the living room floor, and a bath. What a great weekend.

Dudes on vacation

When we realized in January that I would get a few days off from teaching this week and that since I would be finishing up experiments and wouldn't be chained to the mouse colony, we decided to go on an actual spring vacation. (Note: neither of those discoveries turned out to be true. Oh well, maybe next year). We thought about a cruise, but didn't want the hassle. And we're already planning to see family in August. So I began scouring the web for fun family things within driving distance that we hadn't already done, and found Rocking Horse Ranch in upstate NY. It's a dude ranch, with over 100 horses that you can ride without having to shovel up after. But the horses are only the start, with lots of kids sports activities. And it has great reviews on Tripadvisor, so we gave it a shot. First afternoon there and we went straight to the pool. There's a waterslide that you only need to be 36" tall to ride--it's the first long/enclosed waterslide the kids have been able to ride, and they loved it. Jed slides down sitting up, and you can hear his Tarzan howl long before you see him shoot out the bottom. Gus loves still water better, so the pool that never gets more then 4' deep is perfect for him, with lots of room to splash and swim without worrying about getting out too deep. The next day we spent exploring. They give "pony rides" on their super-gentle horses with a pony saddle. Gus thought it was sorta cool, but Jed was transfixed. He rides around in a circle, patting the horse. Gus thought watching his brother ride was not very exciting, so when Jed came around he hollered that we were going to the bounce house. "You go ahead," answered his brother, "*I'm* on a horse." Meeting the barn cats. Bounce house, foam cannons, ping pong. Paddleboats, bungee bounce trampoline, miniature golf. Playground, shooting/archery range, arcade, panning for arrowheads. Pool again. Oh, and cups of popcorn pretty much whenever you want it. Soft serve ice cream that is surprisingly good. Marshmallow roast and guitar singalong. The Gambler and Sweet Caroline. Kids and parents wiped out at the end of the day. Day 3: The kids spend the morning in day camp where they do lots of the above again and have a great time. Jim and I go for a trail ride, which is learning how to keep your horse from biting the bum of the horse ahead of him on the most well-fertilized trail in the country. More pool and pony rides. Beach kayaks. Arcade games. Gus declares that he would like to be a girl. When asked why, he says that girls wear more fun swimsuits. True that. Tour of the stables, where Jed meets a big white horse he would like to ride, and Reb learns that buying a well trained horse is only $1500. I know that's not pocket change and it doesn't include the care, feeding, and shoveling, but for a horse! No, I'm not saving my salary for one, just surprised. Kids show with gentleman whose hobby is reptiles, and he brings out an alligator and a rattlesnake. All impressed but too worn out to see the end. Day 4: More day camp (hike and bounce house today) and trail rides. Jim notes that walking your horse in a line is not very interesting. I tell him that if he doesn't want to be treated like a dude, he needs to put more effort into not being one. And wasn't the bit of dancing his horse did when the horse behind him got too close and nipped his on the bum interesting? Meeting the "character" horse at lunchtime trolling for fist bumps. Jed realizes that the hoof is the size of his head and gives him a head bump instead, getting a genuine laugh from the emcee who must not see new things that often. Packing up and more pool. I introduce Gus to the sauna, which is the first place that has ever been too warm for him. We dry off after pool by standing in the doorway. Wagon ride behind some BIG horses; talk with Gus about Little House in the Big Woods that we've been reading. Wait for the horses to cross the street to their pasture after work (once the horses finally come out the kids are transfixed--which one did you ride, Mommy? That one; his name is Elvis and his best friend is Memphis. No joke.) and then head home ourselves. Overall review: a good time was had by all. Jim wishes there was more grown-up stuff to do. No one goes hungry and everyone is asleep within seconds. About the right length of stay for us. Dudette sore after 2 days on horse, still can't believe one of the young ladies wore flipflops on the stable tour. Bedtime and recovery prescribed for all.

Cardio update

It was time for Jed's yearly visit to the cardiologist. Bit over one year since the surgery. Jed is excited. No one else in PreK has a cardiologist, and neither does Gus. He talks about visiting her by name, just verifying several times that I will be with him the entire time. I, on the other hand, am mildly PTSD remembering last year and hoping the results a year later don't warrant another surgery. Luckily I'm a decent actress, so Jed romps happily along beside me to the bus. As we ride the bus to Children's Hospital, it becomes clear that Jed's preferred unit of height is a Daddy. "Look, Mommy! That (ten-story hospital) building is taller than Daddy!" We check in and get height (3'6"), weight (41 lbs) and blood pressure. The check-in lady hands me a bunch of papers to update with his symptoms since last time. There are no symptoms since last time, so I hand them back. Jed rocks his EKG, then we eat our lunches in the waiting room. Well, Jed eats most of him lunch and as much of mine as he can wangle me out of. I promise him chocolate after we see his cardiologist. Then it's time for the echo. Y'all may remember the eventful first drunk-baby echo that Jed had. This one is eminently more boring. He watches Toy Story with a loose grip on my hand for about an hour while the echo techs take pictures of his heart from lots of angles. Then we go to wait for the cardiologist to look over all the data. Another nurse comes in to wonder why I didn't fill out the papers. Because there have been no updates (or even events) since last year. He's not on any medicine? Just his vitamin, which is already on the chart. Not even anything herbal? Nothing, no symptoms, no medication. No one who doesn't see this kid without his shirt on would imagine that he was born with only three chambers in his heart. She humphs a bit in a nice way and heads out, and I have avoided filling out three sheets of paperwork for no reason. Small victories. I meant to bring toys, but forgot, so we improvised a game of catch-the-pen. Jed whines a bit about wanting chocolate, but I remind him after the doctor. She eventually comes in and listens to his heart through the stethoscope. Then he gets to listen to his heart (and my bellybutton) through the stethoscope. She says the holes that were patched last year are healed up, and the small tricuspid valve that we've been watching is still small, but doing fine under the new blood pressure, and he is great. We schedule for next year and go to catch the bus back to school. I found a quarter on the ground for Jed on the way in, and he's been waiting for two hours to find the donation box for the hospital so that kids who don't have enough money can get the care they need. Yes, he's that sweet. Once we arrive at the bus stop I break out the chocolate. Jed is surprised. "Mommy, I forgot about the chocolate!" Heh. Mommy never forgets about chocolate. Back on the bus, back to school where the other kids are waking up from nap, back on the bus to work. I sit down at my desk and give thanks for a small but healthy heart on my fabulous boy. P.S. As we got off the bus, we passed a row of magazine stands. Magazine stands are sources of endless fascination for my children, they must look inside every one. This day Jed decided that he needed one of the magazines to read at the doctor's office. He selected his favorite and carried it in his hot little hand all the way to cardio. It was a bridal magazine.

North Shore Beach

After realizing that Jed had never been to a beach before, we decided that such a situation must be immediately remedied. So we went to a North Shore beach on Cape Ann on a recommendation from a friend, and it was perfect.

It was supposed to be a super-hot day, but we left the house in the middle of a thunderstorm. Halfway there it stopped raining. Unfortunately it took us twice as long to get there as it should have; construction on one major road and a huge accident that closed down another. Once we finally crawled our way to the beach, we paid our parking fee and walked (sloooowly with Jed) down to the dunes.

Jed was not very sure about it all. But after we'd pitched our cooler and sunscreened up we headed to the water, and then he was sold. This beach is only about 3 feet deep for half a mile, so the water warms up (!) nicely, and you don't have to worry about your kids being over their head unless they tip over.

The bottom has lots of tiny sand dollars. Jed got really good at spotting them, and we collected a few, along with some snails, in our buckets for a short walk. Then we hiked out to a sand bar, and Jim dug jumping pools while Jed reinvented the eternal game of "waves got your toes". Then we investigated the big rocks on one area of the shore, which were covered with interesting seaweed in parts and had small tidepools on the others. Gus said, "Mommy, this was a good idea!" Jed said, "Mommy! Beach! FUN!"

After climbing the rocks we bought a very reasonable lunch from the nearby chow hut, and then the kids spent a couple more hours making a series of castles that were overrun by the incoming tide.

We changed the kiddos and handed them a snack. Jed fell asleep mid-pretzel. We stopped by a farm on the way back and Gus and I went to pick blueberries. "Mommy, this was a good idea too. I like all your ideas!"

Thanks for the recommendation, chica, for our new beach spot!

In Which the Grandparents Visit and We See Winnie the Pooh

Jim's parents came to snuggle the poor sick baby after his surgery. However, after the amazing results of the cath, the poor sick baby was nearly all better, and the week became more about tiring out the grandparents than not overtiring the baby!

They arrived on Sunday. Gus and Jim picked them up from the airport and brought them home, where Jed and I were eagerly anticipating their arrival. The kids were so excited to see them!

On Monday and Tuesday we all kept mostly regular schedules. Jed took some serious naps (the last part of recuperation apparently) and had a blast showing the grandparents his parks.

On Wednesday Mom and Dad took both kids to the Children's Museum, which they always love. After a nap they headed out to our "backyard", the park down the block. Jim and I showed up to arrange a picnic dinner in another park where a kids' band was playing. Jed loves to dance, but after a bit of post-dinner dancing they both blew off the band and headed to the playground. The kids are so thick in the sandbox on these evenings that the air is dusty.

On Thursday we all took off. It was awfully hot, so although our itinerary doesn't look so bad we were all pooped when it was done. We took the train downtown to the Common and played in the playground for a bit. Then a quick (well, for everyone else but Jed, who's been the Poky Little Puppy lately) walk over to the movie theater to see Winnie the Pooh. Gus is fine, Jed spills lemonade on me and then climbs around for almost the rest of the movie. Good thing it was short. The rebooters really nailed it; Craig Ferguson is an awesome Owl and the stuffed animal credits at the end are adorable and memorable. After that we hoisted the kids up to shoulders and went to the Purple Shamrock for chowder, fried fish, and lobster. Another quick jaunt to the harbor, where we just missed a ferry. Waited about an hour. Mom observes that there is water to play in everywhere in Boston, including just off the docks. Of course Jed wants to play with me in the sandbox that is just short of diamond-creating temperature.

We board the ferry and enjoy the A.C. It takes about 45 minutes to get to Spectacle Island, which is made from the dirt from the Big Dig. It was a lot of dirt. There's a classic New England rocky beach, which Gus enjoys to the fullest for about half an hour. Jed is not sure what to do about the waves, but ends up happily filling his bucket with rocks in my lap. We realize that Jed has never seen a wave before, never even been to the beach before! More about that in the next post. We haul all tired people back onto the ferry and over to Fanueil Hall for some dinner. Mom tries a lobster roll for posterity. Jed is so worn out that he pukes up his dinner all over himself, precipitating a cleanup effort that is almost as long as dinner and ends in his falling asleep on my back in his swimsuit.

Boys and parents say goodbye and thank you. Houstonians ship out early on Friday morning, taking the worst of the heat wave with them. Thanks for that too!

Notes from the Cath Lab

And now the gory details...

I set my clock for 5:15 on Wednesday morning. So of course I woke up at 4:17. Sigh. Jed woke up early too, before 6, so to keep him from thinking about breakfast we got him dressed and Jim bundled us both out to wait for the bus. Waited about 20 minutes; walked all around the bus stop, looked at other people's gardens, counted the other people waiting for the bus. By this point Jed can say that he's going to the hopital.

We check in and are soon called to a room, where we meet one of the anesthesiologists and another of the cardiac cath fellows. The nurse invites us to come choose a toy, and while I'm chatting with one of the doctors he decides he wants to be held and jumps into her arms, thereby endearing himself to the entire staff (apparently this doesn't happen often). She was our nurse for the rest of that day, and he alternated between calling her "friend" and "lady".

Jed in tiger hospital gown. I give him the sleepy drops to chug, and I'm told that he will be mellow but awake. After about two minutes his head starts to seriously nod, and then he's out in my arms. While he was going down I sang him our little song about all the people who love Jed, and he said "Mommy" sleepily, so I sang him the "Mommy loves Jed" verse again and he went to sleep with a smile.

And then the doctors came back in and I put him down on the bed. The head anesthesiologist said, "Wow, he's so asleep we won't need any more anesthesia!" which for sticking a tube up from your groin to your heart is entirely unrealistic and in that second I didn't realize she was joking. She could tell by my face. Anesthesiologists don't make good standup comics, and parents who are about to send their child off with a bunch of doctors don't make a good audience.

Soon he was surrounded by a bunch of highly qualified people in blue scrubs, at which point I almost lost it. I must've looked pretty stricken, because the head anesthesiologist gave me a pat on the shoulder as they headed out. I went to the waiting room and didn't cry. Discovered that knitting is better than reading for not thinking about other things. I get the first call from the surgery room (they call you instead of having you stay in the waiting room so that you don't wig out the other patients, I think). Jed is doing fine, his vitals are good, they are starting to get data. Jim arrives after dropping off Gus at school, bearing a bag packed for a week's stay. Apparently I look bad, b/c he takes me out for breakfast. Note: if the place that sells you the muffin doesn't also carry butter, it means the muffin is already so full of butter that it doesn't need any more. Probably not the healthiest breakfast.

Back to the waiting room. A good friend who happens to be in the area comes to distract me while Jim boots up his laptop and starts to work. Second call from the lab: almost done, waking up Jed in around 15 minutes. What? It's only been 2 hours. Must be that they couldn't fix any holes here, so we're staying for surgery tomorrow. Dang.

Soon they call us back, and one of the fellows tells us that they put in 2 devices and everything is fixed. I almost fall over. So fast? Sometimes it just goes really well, he says. An excellent outcome. We hustle back to the room where Jed is coming to. I park myself on his bed and we put on a video. Jim says a prayer of thanks and then heads to work since there's not room for three on the bed. After the video both Jed and I have a nap (remember the 4:17 thing?). When he wakes back up we watch another movie and have some brief battles over staying still, but really he does fantastic. We have some juice and crackers, and later a late lunch. The mac and cheese is really quite good. Around 4 p.m. the nurse says he can get up and go for a walk, so she brings him some slipper socks and we go touring around the ward. It's a tiny ward, but Jed is so tired of sitting that we do laps for about an hour. The nurse has other work to do, so she does it and Jed gives her a hug or a shout-out every time we pass like he hasn't seen her 2 minutes ago.

Over time all of the doctors come by to check in. We see both cath lab fellows, both anesthesiologists, Jed's cardiologist, and eventually even the head cath doctor, who pioneered this treatment in children and has done more of them than anyone else in the world. I get the impression he did this one because there might have been surprises. "He has a good heart," he says, then explains, "We just didn't know."

In hospitals time doesn't pass like I would normally expect. I'm told that soon we will be sent down for an xray, and I think that means within 15 minutes or so, but actually it's an hour. Hurrah for a diversion, because Jed is so bored of the walk by now that he's trying to bust into the other rooms to say hello to the patients. My apologies to the parents of the baby he was trying to stalk. He does love babies. And then he's standing in the doorway of our room, calling "Laaaaady!" down the hall in the hopes that our nurse will come and play with him.

Wheelchair ride down to xray. He's now an xray pro. Everything looks great; the devices look like two little spiders in his heart. After around 6 months the skin will grow over them and they will just be part of his heart forever.

Back to the room. Try another video. Getting sleepy. Uncle Mike and Aunt Sarah arrive to great excitement that can't be sustained. Nearly asleep when dinner comes. Jed eats like a hog and crashes at about 7:30. I keep myself awake until 9 and then curl up next to him on the hospital bed.

Not a hugely restful night but not bad. Several times Jed rolled over and disconnected an electrode, which caused his electronics to beep and the nurse to come in and reconnect him. Around 3 a.m. my eyes bothered me awake and I had to go to the bathroom and do hot washcloths for a while. When I came back he was up and said, "Mommy, you back!" So thankful he didn't panic. So we went back to sleep again. Around 6:30 things started to hop in there and we just kept working to sleep through it, until 7 a.m. when the echo-man came and told us to be ready in about 15 minutes (finally, a man on my kind of schedule!). Jed lay calmly through the whole echo, which would have been impossible 6 months ago and which still surprises me even though he was watching cartoons. The echo man and I have a nice talk about science and puzzles (he started as a lab technician, but really finds echos to fit his puzzle needs better since he gets an answer in around 20 minutes rather than months. There is a lot to be said for that). Back to the room, where breakfast is waiting. We talk about colors of the Froot Loops and suck down some juice.

Apparently I have a REALLY cute kid. I heard some variation on "How cute is HE?" at least 30 times, and this is a children's hospital in which I assume that cute kids are a dime a dozen. The anesthesiologist says that some kids are cuter than others (but we don't go around telling the other parents that). One of the day nurses stops by and says, "How do I get to take care of YOU?" and our new day nurse says, "Sorry, he's yesterday's model."

The nurse practitioner comes in to give us discharge instructions. Jed's cardiologist comes to visit pushing an echo machine; she really wants a couple more measurements of the tricuspid valve. She explains what she's measuring, and upon understanding it I tell Jed that he has a nice Vmax. She says, "What do you do again?" Scientists who are recovering engineers are doubly weird people. The new days nurse comes in to remove Jed's IVs. Time to get dressed. Waiting the last 10 minutes for Daddy to come is torture. Out of the hospital by 9:30 a.m.

Note that I am really impressed with Children's on how they managed our expectations. I have the impression from the doctors after the procedure that the outcome we had was a reasonable expectation, but before it they had us completely ready to do surgery so that we wouldn't be crushed if it happened. Mind games are not always a bad thing.

I still can't believe I get to sleep in my own bed tonight!