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!

Please and "daint do"

O's growth hormone medicine came on Thursday night.  In two gigantic boxes.  It freaked O (and, to be honest, myself) out a little to see such big boxes. 

Luckily, this is the actual medicine.  Four tiny boxes, to last us a month.  The rest was refrigerant and supplies (needles, sharps box, alcohol wipes, etc.)  

These four tiny boxes?  They cost $1,500. No. Joke.

The home health nurse is coming after school today to teach O, E, and I how to give the injections.  O will have to learn for things like sleep overs eventually, so we're going to have the nurse teach her how to do it tonight.  

O is nervous.  She keeps saying "I like the size I am.  I don't want to grow. " 

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.

Christmas gifts

Shhhhh.....  Here's what my kids are getting this year for Christmas:

Each of the kids always gets:

an outfit from Gymboree
a pair of jammies to open on Christmas Eve


Eliza is getting this chair.  They, apparently, no longer make it.  I actually found it used online, for $10 back in October.  I stuck it away in the attic for Christmas.

She's getting a touch and feel book, though we haven't picked it out yet.

It was hard to think of things she'd get excited about.  So, she's also getting these in her stocking:
(you know, since I can't put my actual breasts in her in stocking. Which is about the only thing she likes more)

 

Since Isaac has a birthday on Saturday, he's actually getting combined gifts.  (its just the way it worked out this year.)  He's getting this chair for his birthday, except his is from Costco.

 

For Christmas, he's getting this Melissa and Doug floor puzzle:

His book is the companion book to "Go Train GO!", which is "Stop Train Stop!"



Austin wants a "Nerf gun cartridge connector", but E and I are having a really hard time figuring out what it actually is.  Here are our ideas of what it could be:

He's also getting these books:





Olivia is getting this book set:

along with this cool doll bed from Ikea (It'll fit her American Girl dolls.)

Each child is getting something hand made by me, as well.  I made the boys each a star wars quilt and pillow case. They are a little different, having different amounts of each fabric.  The other quilt has a red checked binding to math their curtains (and the red in the newer star wars fabric strips.)

The girls are getting crocheted mittens. That I have yet to start. ;)

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.

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? 

"un"

me:

unhealthy (cold, then tummy bug)
unproductive (see above)
unmotivated (ditto)
unathletic (again, with the above. but, possibly not a word. lol)
uninspired
unclean (mainly because of all of vomit in our house right now)
under weight (okay, maybe not under weight.  but, being sick does have SOME advantages.)
unorganized
undereducated
unprepared


but also:

happy
content
blessed

Its amazing how 3 things can outweigh the lengthy "un" list.

"Woo hoo"s and "Boohoo"s

Woo Hoo:
~I'm back on the couponing wagon, at least for the kids' foods.
~I went on a girl's night last night.  It was super fun! It was nice to catch up with friends.
~Isaac seems to be mostly potty trained!
~Eric took me out on Tuesday night and we got smart phones!!!!  (I know, I know, welcome to the 21st century.)
~I'm listening to ocean waves music on Pandora via my new phone.  Soothing music.
~I just drank a yummy dairy and soy free salted caramel latte, made by muah.
~Eliza is saying "mama"!
~Eliza is taking a few steps here and there. (It has happened more than once, so I guess I have to count it.)
~Eliza is waving, and saying "bye-bye".
~When Isaac spells his name aloud, he says "I-S-A-B-C" which cracks me up.  He insists its a "b" and not an "A".
~Now that I've been soy free for a while, Eliza is giving me 4 hour stretches of sleep at night.
~I got a doula client!  (This is a big woo hoo!)  I'd been praying/thinking about when, or even whether, I should get back into attending births.  Then, a lovely couple called me out of the blue- getting recommendations from two separate people. 
~The day after my meeting with my new doula client, my OBGYN asked for some of my business cards to pass out in her office for people asking for doulas.  Seriously! 
~The weather is cooler this weekend.
~School starts in a little over a week. (See below in 'boohoo's.)
~I ordered one of these in the blue for Eliza for "school" (if she's walking). I got it for $15!

Boohoo
~I've had to do coupon shopping with 4 kids.  Let me show you how it ended today. Its pretty self-explanatory.

~The reason for coupon shopping??  My kids are making us food poor.  Its a good thing, that they're eating and all, but it seems non.stop.
~I've had a headache all day.  I think from going out with my friends last night.  I don't drink much, and I had some wine and sangria.  I think I'm dehydrated today.  Also, I had trouble falling asleep from socializing.  I know.  I'm weird.
~Isaac has runny poo.  Fun for potty training.  Also, just an FYI, pull-ups do not keep diarrhea in.  at. all.
~My dairy and soy free salted Carmel latte had homemade caramel syrup.  Which didn't turn out the way it was supposed to.  Its not Carmel colored, and it turned into a candy type thing.  This is what the pan looked like after I scraped as much out of it as I could.

~Eliza's still getting up twice a night.  I'm still tired.  Less tired than before.  But, still tired.

~I'm so pumped about my doula stuff, but incredibly nervous at the same time.  I ordered some things online (lavender massage oil and peppermint roll on stick) but I'm not sure what is best to bring. I've got a birth ball, music, those two oils, a messager, but I know I need more.  Not sure what, though.

~ A is having his repeat sleep study tomorrow night. 

~I'm still iffy on whether or not to send Eliza to "school" one day a week with Isaac. I can't decide.  I hate decisions like this.

~Our state recently set a law that schools couldn't start back until after the 20th.  We were supposed to start school Monday.  My kids are suddenly extremely bored and naughty.  I think parents should've been consulted before changing schools schedules to benefit "tourism".  Either that, or they come save my sanity.

~Eliza is growing up.  Too fast.  I can hardly stand it. *sniff*  I'm really boohooing.

Doctor, ain't there nothing I can do?

Eliza had her 9 month check up this week.

She wore her fanciest bow,

Her prettiest cleanest diaper,

Ate a few blocks,

Took a few pictures with her clothes off,

and wore her hair in a faux hawk.

These characters came with us.

They brought their tiger venom,

and a few good smiles.

Turns out, Eliza worked ahead and is in the 90% for height. Take that, short genes!

She's healthy and thriving.

She's taller than all of her other siblings were at her age.

Especially O. (she wasn't this height until 15 months)  Its an accomplishment, in and of itself, that she's even on the chart for weight!  That's a rarity at 9 months in our family, too!

Way to grow baby. Way. To. Grow.