A few days ago, Izzy asked me at dinner, "Mom, when your boo-boo heals up, will you be able to pick me up again?" Chris started laughing and said, "Son, your mom hasn't picked you up for a year. I don't think she's going to be able to!"
See, my sweet little five year old weighs 81 pounds+. I could pick him up before I got pregnant, when he weighed about ten pounds less, but of course, you're not supposed to lift more than maybe 25 pounds when you're pregnant. And after the c-section and subsequent reopening of said incision...well, I wasn't taking any chances.
But I'm nearly healed up now. In fact, the doctor told me today that I don't have to come back for any more wound checks, and it's only about 1/2" deep now. WOO-HOO!!!
I was telling the kids about my appointment and how great it was, and Izzy said, "So you'll be able to pick me up soon?"
So I walked over to the couch where he sat. I told him to lift his legs up in the air. I put one arm around his shoulders and the other under his knees and I PICKED HIM UP!
We cheered and I dropped him back on the couch. He said, "Again, again!" This time he sat up and I lifted him up by his midriff and we cheered again as I dropped him back onto the couch.
Then he said, "Can't you carry me anymore?" Oh. My. God. But he's only five, and by golly, five year old's SHOULD be carried around by their mom's sometimes!
I had him stand on the couch and I picked him up like anyone picks up a small child. He wrapped his arms around my neck and I slid him onto my hip and I walked into the dining room, then into the living room, and then back into the sunroom, where I dropped him once again on the sofa.
"Mom," he said, "Maybe you could not drop me so hard next time."
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