5 things

5 things:

1. We are just a few short weeks away from a trip to Disney World.  I would say we are excited, but lately, only some of us have shown interest.  E and I have decided it would be best to have some "practice" walks around the neighborhood, the local trails, and walking to and from school.  That way, when the big week comes, the little legs and bodies are a tiny bit more used to walking and standing for longer periods.  Of course, a few of the children seem to think its a form of torture.  The same children who run down the street with their friends or ride their bikes for hours.  Clearly they have aversions to physical activity. We are missing school, so there's prep work for the older kids.  Requiring that they turn in some work early and do homework that's due that week while doing homework for this week.  I'm sure you can guess how that's going.  But, hey, Disney is the most magical place on earth.  Or, as Jim Gaffigan says, "imagine you're standing in line at the DMV".   Seriously, though, I'm excited!

2.  I used to follow a blog, that was in my reader.  The last time I checked my blog list (which it, admittedly, had been an eternity since I had last checked it.) this particular blog had changed from what it was (a fun, give away blog with etsy listings) to a porno blog.  Here's the thing, I cannot get that blog off my reader!  When I go to my blog lists, its no longer listed there!  Yet, its feed shows up every.dang.time.  What?!?  No, I'm not really interested in that. Thank-you-very-much.

3.  Eliza is a crazy girl when she's tired.  Like, certifiably cray-cray.  She is incredibly naughty and gets into trouble.  My gym's personal trainer hosts a free boot camp three days a week.  The trainer convinced me last week to try it.  Its at an awkward time (8:30) so I always have my little kids.  Last week went great.  The kids played on the other side of the tennis courts on their respective scooters.  Eliza on the three wheeled one and Isaac on the razor.  I didn't go back last week because I had a birth I was at.  Isaac has been asking me every day since then, so I decided to give it a go again today.  I have to throw in here that, in the last week, Eliza has learned how to ride the razor scooter and wants nothing to do with the three wheeled one.  Of course we currently only have one razor.  Today's boot camp, my children fought over who got to ride the razor scooter.  Or, rather, Eliza screamed at Isaac every time it was his turn.  I had to keep taking breaks to deal with them.  On top of that, at one point Eliza lost control of her scooter and ran into the man next to me while he was doing push-ups!  So, not only did I get all sweaty for what amounted to be a 10 minute work out in between children chasing, I also was humiliated and felt terrible for the man next to me.  I think its safe to say that I'm finished with boot camp.  At least until Eliza gets her own razor scooter...

4.  Its been a year since I felt my first super bad knee pains during a run.  A year ago I thought it was a shoe and over-use issue.  Maybe am IT band issue.  Not so much.  A year later, and I'm mostly better pain-wise, but still unable to run.  Its been so emotionally draining.  But, I am enjoying other things more, like boot camp. (Well, until today.)

5.  I always thought that as the children got older, things would get easier around the house.  Things would calm down.  Clearly, I had no idea how older children want to be in activities and how activities are time eaters.  Especially when multiple kids are doing activities, even if its only one each.  Y'all, I thought I used to be tired.  I had.no.id.ea.

Our rainbow birthday boy

Its hard to believe that this sweet boy is 4 today.

Of course, with his birthday, I'm always reminded of what took place before he was born.  It, as always, makes my heart, and arms, ache for our lost babies.  Aching for them, while also rejoicing in the birth and life of our son.   Not that all of my kids' birthdays aren't special, because they are.  But, his birthday...its just a tiny bit more amazing.  All the heart ache, loss, grief, anxiety, fear, hope, and prayers that came before this child.  (Even during his birth.)  It makes the remembrance of the moment we met him that much sweeter.

Look how much he's grown.  He's such a character.  Independent, opinionated, funny, and sweet.  He loves legos, batman (still!) and his Chillo  .  Looks like his daddy, who shares his birthday.  

Happy birthday, little man.  We love you. 

 

Christmas 2013

We try (and I emphasize "try" here)and keep Christmas low key, trying not to go overboard with consumerism and just the plain ole desire to give my children lots of good things.  We do that in a couple of ways.  One, for us, is simply setting a budget on gifts for each child, and sticking to it.  (that's the hard part for me, guys.  I'm a gift giver!  I love it!)  Another way, is by, loosely some times, following the "Something you want, something you need, something to wear, and something to read" for gifts.  We're almost finished shopping for the kids and thought I'd share.

Olivia:
*Jammies for Christmas Eve (I just bought these on Clearance yesterday for $4!)
*Outfit from Gymboree
*American girl books (the old school ones.  I bought them used. :))
*toy tbd

Austin:
*Jammies for Christmas Eve (again, clearance!)
*sweater from TCP (to go with his blue eyes.  *swoon*)
*space encyclopedia
*Over the door basketball hoop our nerf one just broke.  it was never that great.  We got this one from Costco, though.

Isaac:
*Jammies for Christmas Eve
*sweater from TCP
*book tbd
*sleeping bag from The Land of Nod (I won this at a friend's party last week!  Woot!)

Eliza:
*Jammies for Christmas Eve (same as O's)
*this shirt with matching velvet leggings
*The Moo series board books
*Kids indoor trampoline  (we got this at Essex for a SUPER good deal, guys!  $30!)

While it seems like we're making progress here, we still have the boy's birthdays to shop for, my parents, E's parents, and my brother and sister-in-law.  I love including one hand made gift for everyone, too, if I can swing it.  Last year, it was mostly crochet items.  This year, it'll be a mix.

(btw, I'm still looking for suggestions for books for Isaac or a toy for O, who is 8.5)

What we look like now

We had family pictures taken  last weekend.  The little kids were in a mood.  I'm always so surprised that our photographer can get any good ones of them at all!

A legacy

My grandpa passed away this past Saturday.  We got a call on Thursday that he had a stroke on Wednesday that left him unable to swallow or speak (he also had pneumonia and an infection in his foot.)  My grandpa had already asked that he not receive any life support, including a feeding tube.  One of my uncles traveled, immediately, up from Florida to be with him and to speak with the doctors. He did not see him until Friday morning.  My dad left on Friday, frantically trying to get there before my grandpa died. My parents were able to be with him (along with one of my uncles and aunts) as they moved my grandpa to the hospice facilities at the hospital.  My dad said that he was communicating with grunts, eye movements, and really trying to smile (he said you could tell it was frustrating him to not be able to speak.)

E and our family had packed up Friday night in efforts to leave first thing on Saturday morning to try to get to N.C. before my grandpa died.  However, my dad called at 4:30 in the morning to tell me that my grandpa had passed. (Two of my cousins had driven through the night from MI and arrived only 30 minutes or so after he died.) 

Through out the next couple of days, more and more of our family arrived.  Until all of the brothers, all but one of the 11 grandchildren, and 9 of the great grand children were gathered in Waynesville, N.C.  (we all had to travel. Not one of us lives in N.C. My grandpa moved there in his later adult life.) 

Even though we were grieving, and processing the loss of my grandpa, we were able to reconnect with our family.  My grandpa's legacy.  What a great legacy it is. 

All of us

 The brothers.  My dad is the 2nd from the right.

My family, my brother and sister-in-law and my parents

My dad and my boys.

Tattle Tailing

 Tattling.  Dude.  My kids.  They've got it bad.

You know that song "basketball jones" (the Space Jam version.  I am a child of the early 90s after all. ;) ) When I first heard that song, I didn't really know what a basketball jones was.  I asked my dad and he told me a jones was, essentially, a strong craving for something. An obsession.

That.  That's what my kids are like with tattling.  Like they are obsessed with it.

Everything I've read says to ignore.  Ignore.  IGNORE.

Check. Check. Check.

To the point where I don't even respond.  I don't even look at them.

Usually its a back and forth.

"Mommy!  O said my hair looks funny!"
"But, he said I'm stinky!"
"But, then she was going to punch me!"

"Mommy!  A said I'm a booger face!"
"Isaac was messing up my stuff!"

I can't even remember the last time some one worked it out on their own.  Of course, when it comes to the important stuff, like Eliza standing on the dining room table or Eliza eating markers, or Isaac painting the bathroom with toothpaste, that gets ignored.  No one tattles on that.

All of the stuff I've read is really geared towards young kids.  Obviously, I still want them to tell me somethings (like above mentioned activities, or if some stranger was trying to touch them, etc.)

So.  What do you do with this?  What do you do in your house?  Hurry.  Because Mommy is starting to jones for some wine.  (The grape kind, not the kid kind.)

Things I've been meaning to blog about, but haven't

Eliza got her 15 month pictures taken.  Unfortunately, I took so dang long choosing which pictures I wanted, I am still waiting to get them.  She's 16 months now. But, the sweetness.  Her complexion is just gold.  Well, ivory, really.  But, its so sweet and pale and perfect.

Our big kids were in the chorus in a musical at school- Alice in Wonderland.  I had to whip up some lobster claws for A.  The kids did great, and I enjoyed what I could while chasing a 15 month old around.  (Although, it reaffirmed by dislike of the Alice in Wonderland story/movie.  Not a fan.  I find it creepy.)

I made pirate patches for the boys' valentines.  (O didn't want to do them.  Something about pirates being for boys.  oiy!)  

I've been training for my first 10k.  My race is on Sunday.  I'm super duper nervous, especially since this week has been super light on training because of life circumstances.  But, I got my new shoes a few weeks ago, broke them in, and I'm ready to go!

We went to this super cool place called "Supper Heroes .  They have comics as art, a room with an arcade game that the kids can play while you wait for your food, even supplies to make comics of your own at the table.  The kids loved it, the food was great, and the owner came out several times to check on us.  Plus, Isaac got to wear his batman costume.  

O's injections have been going well.  As of last week (so two weeks on the medicine) she's grown as much as she had an entire 18 months.  Only 1/4 of an inch, but its huge for her!  Unfortunately, we've run into some issues with our insurance.  I have to make, likely several, phone calls today to figure things out in order for her next shipment to arrive on time.  Have I ever mentioned how much I hate dealing with that sort of thing? 

Speaking of O, this girl turns eight a week from today.  Eight.  It seems so old!

She only likes her hot dogs with bits of plastic

Thursdays are school days for Isaac, which happens to coordinate well with my trip to Aldi every week. (Isaac's not a huge fan of Aldi.  Something about not having cookies.)  Today is one of my bi-weekly trips to get produce, etc.

I have family coming into town this weekend.  There's four of them.   I have to feed them, obviously, and us.  It'll probably be close to double what our family eats considering O and Eliza probably add up to one regular kid.

I'm concentrating hard on how much food I need to buy, etc.  Eliza is in the back of the cart because 1.she climbs out of the buckle and out of the cart if she's in the front and 2. I didn't carry her because I was going for a run after our shopping trip where she needed to be strapped down.  I felt bad having her "confined" for too long.  I'm putting most of my groceries in the back with little Miss.

 I stop and get two different kinds of hot dogs.  One package of turkey dogs for Eliza and I because I prefer them and they're cheaper.  One package of the, more expensive, all beef bun-length hot dogs.   That way everyone else can have the more expensive ones, yadda yadda yadda.

I round the aisle, focusing on the veggie produce area, turn down the fruit aisle (so, half and aisle total) and I glance at Eliza.   There she is, an entire hot dog in hand, chomping down like its a banana or something.

First reaction:  gross.  Cold hot dog.

Second reaction: ugh.  She got hot dog juice all over her outfit.

Third reaction: how did she get that?!?

I finally glanced down in the cart and she had gnawed her way through the plastic packaging, bitten off most of the tips in the process, until she made enough of a hole to slip a hot dog out.

Can you guess which ones she opened?

Yeah.  The beef ones.

The lady at the check out: "Do you know these are open and... eaten??"

Me: "yes."

After my run, I thought I'd go ahead and actually make Eliza that hot dog she desired in the grocery store.  I heated it up and gave it to her.  What did she do?  She turned her nose up at it, said "uh-uh" in her caveman voice, and threw it on the ground.

Clearly, cold hot dogs, wrapped in plastic, are much more appealing to her pallet.

(Also, I'm thinking the "bun length" all beef hot dogs may be a little shorter than bun length.shhhhh)

The Star Wars Quilt

I know I posted a picture last month of A's Star War quilt that I made.  I was desperate for a picture, took a quickie with my phone, and put it on the blog.  I did take some better pictures with my real, non-phone camera.

I knew I wanted to make the boys some  quilts to fold at the end of their beds, but also small enough to use as a lap quilt in the car or watching tv.  I found material at Joanne's, but found it was pretty pricey (which is the story for all licenced fabric, don't you think?)  I started buying the fabric back in August using my 40% or 50% off coupons.  By November, I had found and purchased all of my fabric.

I did a "quilt as you go" type quilt for Eliza's room and O's bed.  However, I found I had a hard time preventing bunching on the backing.  I bucked up and decided to try a "real" quilt. You know.  One with a real quilt top, backing, and those silly "basting" pins you're supposed to use.

After gathering my materials, I quickly realized that a block quilt top was just not going to cut it. Cutting blocks would've cut out many of the characters faces, or the words. So I scoured the interwebs for an easy strip quilt.

I came across this tutorial.  It was perfect.  Strips?  Check.  Using the backing as binding? Check.

I started on my first quilt using her tutorial.  The strips came together nicely for the quilt top.  When it came time to baste, I thought I could skip over taping it to the floor, and just wing it with straight pins.  While I didn't have much bunching when quilting it together, I found that my backing was crooked.  Of course, I didn't find that out until AFTER I had quilted the ENTIRE THING!  So, alas, I had about 4 inches of backing on one side to use as binding, and only .5 inches on the other. Fail.

I had to find something to use as binding then, since I couldn't pull from the back fabric. (see?  This is why I'm a rule follower.  I should have known better.  Follow. The. Directions!)  I asked my friend Raechel, who I remembered, has done a quilt binding by hand.  She sent me in the direction of this tutorial.

I grabbed some extra fabric that I had left over from the boys' curtains, and got to work.  I didn't like it.  I can't blame the tutorial for the fact that it didn't turn out to be my favorite.  It was really my fault, and the fault of the very wiggly fabric.  But, E insisted it looked fine.  After my hours of work, I wasn't super keen on taking it all off anyway.

The next quilt went much smoother.  Especially since I decided to be a good girl and follow the directions.  I taped it all down in my family room, on the hardwoods, and got to pinning.  I sewed it all up, and, what do you know?  There was plenty of fabric on the back left for a binding.  Hurrah! 

 

 

 

The boys opened them up on Christmas morning and were less than impressed.  (of course, it was competing with things like a bb gun and a bike!)  However, since, they have loved having their very own blanket to cuddle up with at night, and they've even taken them on a road trip to visit my Grandpa. 

The funny part, though, is that they fight over the "good" quilt, even with out knowing how I feel about them.  Either they sense my secret loathing over the binding on the one quilt, or they just like the way the black looks versus the red.  In any case, we do not have any pictures of the "sad" quilt on Christmas day.  But, I have an action shot. 

Catching up

New things:

#1: Isaac turned 3. As in three years ago he was a teeny tiny newborn.  Who looked like this:

Now? He's such a ham I can barely get a picture of him.  But, he looks like this for a professional photographer:

 

Cute, no?  Still has those deep, dark, chocolate brown eyes. He's 50% in weight and 15% in height (more on that in the next number.) 

#2. O will be having her MRI done this Sunday afternoon to check her pituitary gland.  From there, we'll come up with a treatment plan for her growth hormone deficiency.  We'll also start keeping an eye on Isaac's height.  Anything under 10% will start getting some attention.  (He's still young, so he can still catch up.)  We've talked with her about how she'll have to sit still for 30 minutes in the loud machine.  I'm hoping they have fancy goggles with a tv in them like they do at our children's hospital in HSV.

#3 We thought we were having a travel free Christmas.  Until we found out my grandpa, who lives in N.C.,  isn't doing so hot.  He's lost a lot of weight and just isn't real thrilled to be living.  The last time we saw him, I was 4 weeks pregnant with A.  So, 7 years ago.  My parents and my uncle and aunt and their two kids will be going as well.  We figured we should go when other people are going.  it isn't very fun there (he's in an assisted living home) and there isn't much to do.  Not time like the present, right?

#4 We're having some behavior problems with one of our kids. We're really struggling with how to discipline.  It feels like nothing is working.  *sigh*  I keep trying to tell E that I think its from a lot of the attention on O's health the last year, since this is when the unwanted behaviors started.  I don't know.  I'm this close [___] to taking the child to the therapist to see if they could get to the bottom of it all.  I don't know how to help and it's really a crappy feeling.

#5  I've had a cough for almost two weeks.  No other real symptoms.  just a stupid, dumb, keeps-me-up-at-night cough.  I hate to call the doctor for just a cough, but yet my cough syrup box says if you have a cough for more than 7 days to call your doctor. 

#6. Eliza- she's a handful.  This is not new news.  But, it pretty much sums her up.

my hotdog got run over by a reindeer grocery cart

Yesterday went like this:

Take Isaac to gymnastics.  While at gymnastics, he has a coughing fit.  I, then, realize that  I forgot to give him his nebulizer.  (crap!)  Every one is giving us the stink eye.  You know, because he's gagging from heavy coughing and sounds like he may vomit.

While we are at gymnastics, Eliza seems to be walking funny.  Like crooked.  She seems to be a tad congested, so I'm starting to wonder if she has fluid in her ears and is just thrown off.

I gather the children up and head to Costco.  I love, love, and adore Costco.  Love it.  However, the major downside is that its on the other side of town.  There's no "good" way to get there.  Oh, there's a straight shot road from my house to Costco, but there's about 11 hundred stop lights between here and there.  (They're almost always red.  Especially when you're in a hurry!)

Eventually, I get to Costco.  I have intentions of getting hot dogs for lunch (mine with out a bun to be dairy free!) and then cruise around for a few grocery items, a gift for a friend, and Isaac's cool chair for his birthday. 

When I pull into the parking lot, I realized I forgot to pack Isaac's drink.  It wasn't a huge deal, since they sell drinks with the hot dog meals.  But, I usually bring him a sippy cup and forgo the pop/lemon aid and get him water.  I check my email and find that I got another doula job! (woot!!)

I grab the kids, throw them into a cart, and head in to return something.  We make our way to the food, buy our goodies, and move onward towards the awesomeness that is Costco at Christmas.  I find Isaac's chair (I was so worried it would be sold out!) and am confounded as to how to get it into my cart with the kids.  I move Isaac into the front seat, which he says he DOES NOT LIKE!  While he's shouting, I'm finagling the very large box into our cart, and my phone starts ringing.  I glance at the number and realize it is the big-kids' school.  I set the box down, ever so gently (bawaawa!) and talk to the school nurse.  O is crying/screaming/freaking out because her ear hurts. 

While I'm on the phone, Isaac tries to "help" and put his drink next to mine, in the back of the cart.  Except, he only has the arms of a 3 year old, and not Stretch Armstrong arms.  The drink falls 2 feet short of the actual cart, busts open, and spills its, very full, contents all over the floor. I hang up the phone, after telling the nurse I'll be there in.... um.... its lunch time and I'm at Costco, so... 45 minutes to an hour?  I have to find some one to come clean this mess up because my measly 10 paper napkins just isn't cutting it.  I'm searching around, and even find a friendly lady who is willing to help me find a worker.  I finally find a guy with a name tag, ask him if he works here, and tell him of my shame.  Thankfully, he takes care of it.

Shortly after, I make O a dr. appointment for 45 minutes from now.  That's all they have left.  I'll never make it in time to pick her up AND head to the doctor.  I enlist E's help.  (which sucks since he had to be out all day on Monday for O's growth hormone testing.)  He plans to pick her up and agrees to meet me at the doctor. 

Meanwhile, Eliza takes my bun less hot dog that's wrapped like a burrito in a piece of foil and tugs on it.  It rolls out of its packaging, and right onto the floor.  As I'm moving forward to get it, another person's cart runs right over it.  Cutting my hot dog in half. 

I rush through the line, pay for my things (which, after upon returning home, realize I forgot over half of my things.)  I have no lunch, and no time to buy a new hot dog.  So, I eat dried fruit and nuts for lunch.  Along with my diet coke.  Lunch of champions mommies.

Eliza screams almost the entire time in the car.  I make decent time, and get to the doctor on time.  While in the waiting room, Eliza seems to be getting sicker.  O's pediatric endocrinologist calls.   I take the call outside, but I can hear Eliza screaming for me as I walk out the door.  The doctor is calling to tell us that O's tests confirm a growth hormone deficiency.  He wants to schedule a MRI as soon as possible and get moving on growth hormone injections. 

I walk back into the waiting room, sort of in a daze.  Our favorite nurse calls us back.  She takes a few notes about O, glances at Eliza and says "oh no!  she looks sick!"  She is looking pretty sick.  Running a fever, too.

Our pediatrician comes in, looks in O's ear, declares an infection.  she also glances Eliza's way and says "she looks rather puney."  I asked her if she could just glance in her ears because she was walking funny earlier.  There's nothing in her ears, except Eliza's pure hatred of being messed with.  at all.  Especially when she's sick.  the dr. listens to her chest and it sounds yucky. Eliza gets her finger pricked (which she also hates, in case you were wondering!) and we are left with a diagnosis of it being viral, but to call if her fever spikes or her walking deal doesn't resolve in the next day or two.

On the way home, I'm starting to reflect on the Endocrinologist's call. 

I feel....relieved. 

 

But, also nervous. 

 

Relieved that all of the things we knew in our hearts were right.  Like how my breast milk WAS fatty enough when she was a baby and didn't grow.  How we DO feed her enough calories and fat.  How she isn't just tiny. 

 

But, nervous for what lies ahead. 

 

 Possibly daily injections.  Until puberty. 

 

Rapid growth. 

 

Big changes for her.  How will this affect her self image?  She's always been the smallest.  Always.  I would think, after almost 8 years, it'd start to be part of your identity.  How will that change when she starts growing 5 inches?  How will she see herself?  How will others see her?  (obviously, we want her to be the height she should be.  I'm not saying these things will change our course of action.  It just has me thinking.)  I imagine it would be similar to some one losing a lot of weight, or even gaining a lot of weight, in a short period. 

 

But, again, relieved.  Relieved to not have to do any more testing (other than the MRI.)

We arrive home and lay the littles down for naps.  When Eliza wakes up, her fever is up to 104.  I call the doctor's office.  Unfortunately, they left for the day ten minutes prior. 


We medicate both girls, and bathe and nurse and cuddle.  Praying prayers of thanksgiving for a treatable diagnosis.Praying tomorrow is filled with a peace that passes all understanding.  Praying the best for my baby girl O, and all of my kids.

It ended like that.

peeking out from quilt mountain to ask for help

I've been busy, buried with two awesome Star Wars themed quilts on my sewing table.  (My mission this Christmas was to make one hand-made gift for each person. However, I'm quickly falling behind!  I should've started in May!)

I've had very little time to think about things like OTHER Christmas presents and BIRTHDAY presents of two of my favorite guys. 

E and I were pretty set on buying Zeke a balance bike.  We were going to combine it with Christmas, but give it to him on his birthday (and give him a small Lego set for Christmas so he got "something".)  However, my parents decided to buy it for him instead. 

SO, here's where I need help.  Isaac's birthday is in a week and a day.  I need ideas. He's about to turn 3.  His loves: Batman, Star wars, Legos, Deigo, Daddy, being outside.

And, go!

We need to find a doctor with a loyalty punch card

In the past 2 weeks:

Eliza- in for allergic reaction (she ate ranch dressing.) Also, on a different day, there for her 12 month check up.

Isaac- in for a hideous rash on his face that is not responding to, as of now, 4 different kind of medications.

Olivia- Height and weight check, along with blood work, and orders for a bone scan.


4 times in 2 weeks.  Numerous phone calls.  Plus, likely another visit to the dr. tomorrow for the baby, who has been throwing up for days, unable to keep anything but tiny amounts of breast milk down.

This.  This is the stuff that overwhelms me.  This is the stuff that makes me stop and think "maybe I AM done having children." even though I still really, really want another.  This is the stuff I sit and fret over at night, praying to God to heal my babies, and calm my anxious heart.

But, this is life.  Its our life.  Though it may seem sucky, I'm trying to find peace in the small things.  Like how I love the nurse at our pediatrician's office.  How my baby girl is actually cuddly and snugly, even though I hate the reason why.  How I got to spend some one-on-one girl time with my eldest while we waited for her bone scan.  How our family pictures on Saturday will be that much more unique and memorable with Zeke's facial prettiness. (I'm serious, here.  Its a story we can laugh about later, right??)

Its our life.

A list to check off, yet here I blog

~Eliza's first birthday party is tomorrow.  I have a mile long list of things to do.  A long list of things to while Eliza's napping.  She's napping now, in fact.  Yet, here I sit. 

~I'm tired.  I love getting creative, decorating for parties.  However, I'm lacking serious motivation that was likely stolen from me at 5 am.

~At 5am we all heard a very loud bump in the night.  Followed by an equally loud scream from babykins.  E whispered to me "Did Eliza just fall out of the crib?"  To which I replied "how could she?!?"

~She, in fact, DID fall out of the crib.  She seems fine.  With all of the adrenaline surging through her little 16 lb body, she did not go back to sleep, as usual, after her morning milk.  Which means *I* did not go back to bed, nor did any of the older 3 children.

~Eliza's crib has only one more notch to move down.  Is this sleeping arrangement REALLY supposed to last her until she's 3?  After last night, I have high doubts that it will.

~When E left for work today, I ran after his van screaming "please don't leave me!!!"  Zeke was screaming "I didn't say goodbye" even whilst waving at his daddy.  Eliza was death gripping my leg, and the older two kids were fighting over who was getting the napkins. 

~I made homemade butterfingers last night.  It probably wasn't the smartest thing to combine 3 of my favorite things, (chocolate, candy corn, and peanut butter) and expect some kind of miraculous self control on my part.

~I'm in a funk with running.  My last few runs have been blah.  I threw up in our yard after my last run, thus motivating me even less than normal.

~Eliza went down for a nap at 7:30.

~I wanted to go down for a nap at 7:30.  Or now.  I'd take a nap now, too.

He has me in stiches

Zeke's ankle bracelet



Saturday evening, we had to make our second, ever, E.R. visit. (Unfortunately, it was for the same child. He had a concussion before.)

We were heading to Grandma's house for dinner. Isaac asked to wear his Cars jammies. I mean, it was almost dinner time, we were just going to grandma's house, and he'd be changing into his jammies there soon anyway. Why not let him wear p.j.s?

Well, it turns out that we did make another stop. As we were getting everything/one loaded into the van, Isaac climbed up into his seat, as usual. He leaned over the edge to look at something (we think here. Not really sure.) and he fell out of his seat, out of the van, onto the garage floor. He bit all the way through his lip.

Now, as it happens, E and I weren't standing right there. I was getting food, diapers, etc. for Eliza in the house. E was loading up the back of the van. All of a sudden, I hear E yell my name. He yelled it in such a way that I knew some body had to go to the hospital. He brought in a screaming Zeke, completely covered in blood. (Y'all, it was so much blood. All over my sweet babies face, shirt and hands.)

I quickly grabbed a wet towel to put pressure on it. After I held it there for a second, I lifted up the now very bloody rag (which, of course, was a stark white burp cloth of Eliza's. oh well. She took one for the team.) and saw how bad it really was.

Thankfully, the other three kids were already buckled in their seats, waiting to go to grandma's. We rushed to the brand new E.R. right around the corner (which, in hindsight, we should've gone to the ped's E.R. Its a longer drive, but usually a shorter wait. Plus, much better for kiddos.) They sort of freaked when they saw blood all over him. We hadn't taken the time to clean him up. I just put pressure on it, drove with me sitting next to him keeping pressure on it. I hadn't even thought of the blood elsewhere.

We then proceeded to wait for 3.5 hours. Through out the course of the 3.5 hours, Isaac kept a diaper (cloth) pressed up against his lip. (He said the pressure made it feel better.) He was mostly calm, snugly, unless he had to take the pressure off for a nurse/orderly/doctor to check his lip. Then, it would start bleeding again, and he'd start crying again.  

 



 

At one point, he even got up and played with the sand table.  It didn't last long, however, because he couldn't do much with one hand.  When he let go to try to slide the critters over, he started screaming again.

 

Thankfully, my IL's came and got O and A right away.  They ate dinner at their house.  Eliza hung with us for a while.  E was chasing after her while I snuggled Zeke.  After hour 3, we had them stop by the hospital to pick up Eliza (after I nursed her) and take them all to our house to go to bed.  

 



 



 

 

One of the hardest times in my parenting career previously was watching a very tiny, and very dehydrated, O get an I.V. They couldn't find a vein and it was very rough.  Watching Zeke get his stitches was right up there with that, guys.  I was secretly balling inside.  They swaddled him in a blanket, then removed his diaper (which he kept screaming "I need my rag!!") then they held him down while the dr. injected the litocain into his wide-open lip.  It was terrible.  There was blood every where (since it started bleeding like crazy again when they took off the diaper.) he was swallowing it, and they just kept sticking him with the needle. 

 

The actual stitches went much better, but they covered his eyes.  He kept calling out for E and I, and we kept reassuring him that we were there, touching his knee/foot/leg, etc.  

After all of that was finished, all he could concentrate on was the strings in his lip.  He kept begging us to take them out.  That was when the nurse took him to pick out a Popsicle. (hurrah!) 

When we got home, he had some apple sauce and crashed. (by then, it was 9:30.) 

 

 

 

The day after:

 

He doesn't seem to mind the stitches much now.  The hardest part has been his inability to suck his fingers for comfort.  He's having a really hard time falling, and staying, asleep.  So, he's extra tired, and he can't even comfort himself when he's grumpy/angry/sad/frustrated either. *sigh* 

 

So, that was our Saturday evening.  While it was an adventure, I think I'd rather hang out at home in our jammies next time. 

Experience rules

In my parenthood journey, I've learned there are a few general rules.  I thought it might be helpful to pass that wonderful wisdom on to those naive less experienced parents who have yet to have these delightful rules apply.

1. Never, ever, EVER say "Oh, I'll never do_________" (you fill in the blank with whatever it is you think you'll never do as a parent.)  Guess what?  You almost always do it.  "I'll never sleep with my baby."  "I'll never let my child walk around with a sippy cup"  "I'll never let my baby only wear a diaper and shirt!" (ahem. last one was one of mine.) 

 

 Eliza: Queen of the t-shirt and diaper look.



 

 

2. Related to number one is rule number two.  Don't judge, (other parents) lest you be judged (by other parents).  "My child will NEVER behave like that in the store!"  "Sheesh!  Can't that mom stop her toddler from pushing my toddler down?"  "gosh, that child sure talks to her mom with an attitude for a 5 year old.  she must learn that at home."  Sure, your 9 month old may not be into pushing, tantrum throwing, or attitude talking.  But, trust me, they will grow into those things.  Quicker than you think, too.  Your child will be THAT child, smashing the bread in your grocery cart on purpose because he's mad.  Your child will be mean to other kids at some point.  My, then, 16 month old got into "trouble" at church almost every week for pushing kids down.  She was, by far, the smallest child in the class.  Weighing only 16 lbs.  But, she felt the need to display her dominance (or make up for her short stature.  Who really knows what goes through an 16 mth old's little head.) by pushing much larger kids down to the ground and saying a silent "boo ya!" 

 

 

O: World's smallest bully

 

 



3. Bragging and/or complaining publicly about something your child is doing will result in a negating of such activity.  For example, saying "yes, she does sleep through the night" (even with out "bragging") will likely result in your baby waking up 8 million times the following night.  "My child is potty trained!"  will, in the same manner, produce 15 accidents the next day, or, even more humiliating, a poop accident in his pants 5 minutes later.  (Better yet, is the pooping in the corner in his room a year after being potty trained.)  Reversely, tweeting "my baby won't stop crying!" will probably be the magic trick!  Thus forcing you to type a follow up tweet saying "never mind. #babyisbipolar" 

World's cutest room pooper

4.  The doctor rule:  Your child will be very sick at home.  Running a fever, fussing, and general malaise.  When you arrive at the doctor, with 4 kids in tow,  have paid your co-pay, and your child's fever will miraculously disappear.  she will be all non-sick smiles, flirting with the blond haired boy across the waiting room.  The pediatrician will, consequently, find absolutely nothing wrong with your child.  (Say good-bye to your $25 on your way out the door. )

 

 

Its $25 co-pay each child?!?

5.  Your mom really does know a thing or two about babies.  After all, she had you. So maybe she's not up to date on the current crib recalls, but she knows a thing or two about what babies love.  I remember fervently telling my mom that, under no circumstances, would O be rocked to sleep.  Not even by a visiting Mimi.  When I say no circumstances, I meant it.  Even when my mother was visiting us after I brought O home from the hospital.  As in, O was a teeny tiny newborn, who likely had no idea she was being rocked versus in the car.   (I think I read it in a book that you shouldn't associate sleep with rocking. You know, because books are perfect and all.) My mother, gently, told me how full of crap I was  I'd probably change my mind.  Which, I did.  (Not with O, but by A I was a rocking maniac.)

Zeke: Rock, rock, rocking on Heaven's door

So, there are my top five "rules" of motherhood.  Any more that you'd add? 

On suppliments, bruising, and hating excersise

I'm fairly certain I need some more calcium in my diet.  Between my thyroid medication (which depletes calcium) and my lack of dairy intake, I'm not bringing in the bone reinforcements.  Before Eliza's allergy testing, I bought a giant bottle of calcium (and another bottle of folic acid) supplements.  After we found out that I needed to cut out soy, it took me a while to figure out why she was still having symptoms.  Some one told me to check out my vitamins.  Sure enough, my calcium supplement has soy letchin.  I've been so frustrated with the fact that I spent $15 on a supplement that I can't take that I have yet to replace them with anything else (it doesn't help that I haven't been able to find a soy free one in the regular grocery store.)  I know its stupid, since you know, the only one I"m hurting is ME. But, man, it makes me MAD!

Speaking of supplements, I think I may have to have my iron tested again.  (I had it tested during my pregnancy with Eliza, and it was above average.)  I've been bruising like a peach, and most of the bruises I have no idea where they came from.  (Although, if I'm honest, I'm a little more clumsy than the average bear.)  Gauging my tiredness level is no help.  I'm fairly certain anyone with 4 kids, one of whom eats 1-2 times a night, is tired.  I got over my fear of blood draws a long time ago, but I'm still putting this off.  Mainly because I have a fear of waiting rooms.  Okay, so maybe its not a fear, per se, but a much-deserved dreading.  Those labs are always small, busy, filled with old people, half of whom don't like children, and have tons of things that my preschooler and baby shouldn't be playing with but they desperately want to play with. 

While I'm on the topic of being tired, I've been trying to run in the mornings before E goes to work (versus in the evening, before bed).  Its.....um.....a challenge.  E leaves between 5:45 and 6.  So, I have to be back from my run between 5:45 and 6.  Even with my early risers, that's dang early.  (Especially with a 1 and 3 am wake up calls for milk.)  This morning, I happened to wake up about 10 minutes before my alarm.  I laid there, the entire 10 minutes, arguing with myself on whether or not I was going to get my butt out of bed and run.  Yes I am, no I'm not.  I'm going to sleep.  I'm getting up.  I don't want to.  I have to.  UGH!  Fine.  I'm up.  Sure, in the end, I did it.  I'm glad I did it because now its over and I don't have to think about it.  But, man, those few minutes of talking to myself are exhausting.  I wish I had a natural love of running.  So, it'd be like getting up early to have a cup of coffee by myself.  That, I would rarely argue about.

 

Did I ever share back to school pictures?  The big kids went back to school last week.  They are both loving it (which is such a blessing!)  A came home from school every day last week and said "school is awesome!"  That is music to a momma's ears, folks. Isaac doesn't start until next week, after labor day, but he's excited as well. We're getting back into a routine, which sort of helps every one.  I pretty much suck at schedules/routines during the summer.  But, yet, we all seem to thrive on one.  Maybe next summer, I'll pony up.

 

Me and my munchkins on the first day of school