Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. A month (and a half!) is too long between updates.

Once upon a time, I blogged five or six times a day. Now? Not so much. Obviously.

It's 2 am and I should be sleeping. (Who really ever says, "Hey! It's 2 am - I should be raking the yard!"?) But I'm not. At least I got a few hours in before I got up again, right? Freakin' insomnia. It's what I get for weaning myself off the beautiful, wonderful Ativan. But I told myself the Ativan would be only to get me through the sleepless nights pre-Fontan, and here we are on the other side of it, so no more happy pills for me.

Have I mentioned how much I loved that Ativan?

Anyway.

Sammy: Amazing. Incredible. Starting school (for real this time!) next month. The language that comes out of him is on par with a 3 or 4 year old. Long, complete sentences, proper grammar, descriptions, proper questions, incredible reasoning. Still obsessed with music. Today, he told me, "I will play the rhythm on my drums and mama, you can play a song on my trumpet, ok? We need to play fortissimo. Does that sound like a good plan? (Bang, bang, bang). CRESCENDO!!!!" I kid you not, just like that. Started potty training in preparation for preschool. Wore underwear for the first time today and only had one accident. Still with the low oxygen sats, trying to not let it get to me, trusting that his cardiologist and the amazing team at Children's know what they're doing. Not looking forward to the cath they'll need to do to fix the issue (close the fenestration - hole - they created as part of the Fontan), but looking forward to pink lips, fingers and toes.

Me: Registered for the 5k that's on my list of things to get off my ass and do. Training, not as much as a I should be, but still running when I can. Started Weight Watchers, too. Determined to get back into shape. Working a bit, watching my roles shift and change (in a good way) and enjoying the ride. Still anxious (hence up at 2 am), still struggling a bit, but in a different way. I wrote a post on Sammy's site shortly after he was diagnosed titled, "Redefining Normal". I spent three years in that normal, and now it's time to redefine it again. I guess I'm trying to figure out what our world looks like now that, aside from the cath, we're simply raising a kid like anyone else. I'm trying to figure out who I am now, especially since I've spent the last three years saying that I'll get back to being me after the surgeries were all done. Who am I now, after all we've been through? How do I even begin to figure that out? And all those things we talked about, all those things we said, "After the Fontan" - well, now those things can shift around to the front burner. I'm trying to make an effort to do more things for me, little things, like read a book or really sit and relax. I'm trying!

Every so often, I find myself falling into this idea that now we have years, hopefully decades, in front of us, instead of the panicked fear of numbered days until the Fontan, and instead of the overwhelming insistence that I celebrate each and every moment and live each and every day with Sammy to the absolute fullest god forbid, now I feel a little less of that push. I wonder if I'll ever take my time with him for granted. I feel some days like I do, and I don't like it. I didn't like the paralyzing fear of pre-Fontan, but I don't know that I ever want to get so comfortable that I forget to be so grateful for my time with him. For him. I feel like that's one of the gifts he's given me - to slow down and be here, in the moment. I don't want to lose that now that we're past the Fontan.

Otherwise, we've been spending time with family and friends, getting outside as much as possible, and counting down the days to Falcon Ridge.

I'm thinking it's time to head back to bed.