I'm not good about asking for help for myself. I am slightly better at asking for help for my kids, but not by much. It's not pride or self-consciousness, it's a weird "well, they're probably too busy, I might as well do it myself." I have had a little bit of experience of no one even offering when I sort of needed it, so when I really need it, a part of me feels like it'll be a repeat of before. (Yeah, that's confusing but I don't want to call people out with specific situations so you get a vague intro.) As the news about Eden is making the rounds, though, everyone wants to help and that is so great. I really do appreciate the offers, though at this time I really have no idea what to tell you.
The main things needed with a newborn are meals, cleanliness, and time. Meals, I've got covered. My freezer and pantry are really full from my stocking up before she was born. Not to say we don't appreciate someone bringing us food, that's a freezer or pantry meal we can eat later. Plus I've definitely hit the "ugh, I don't want to eat any of this" so other people's cooking or take out is definitely welcome.
Cleanliness...well, we all know I'm not the best housekeeper, so my mom is helping out in that area and her housekeeper is going to start coming once a week starting Monday. My only issue with that is getting out of her way while she cleans. Its a good problem to have. She's cleaned for us before and she always does the master bedroom first so we can hole up in there and watch tv or read books while she hits the rest of the house.
Time is the biggest one and the hardest one to fill. I love my kids but I need time away from them to be a better parent. I'm exhausted just from having a newborn, not to mention the emotional toll her diagnoses have taken on me so the days that I don't have all three kids are precious to me. They're also the days we have doctors appointments so I don't get to nap much. I doze a little, wrapped around her body while she nurses and the boys leg wrestle on the bed and watch Thomas movies on Netflix. That's not terribly restful, but I'll take what I can get.
What would be great, but what I also understand is really hard for people to do, is for someone to take the boys or sit with Eden while I go somewhere with them for a bit. Or come hang out for a bit so I can have some adult contact that's not my family. Or sit with all three kids while I get away. Austin's good about this in the evenings, but its during the day that I feel most isolated. Not being able to go to playdates or MOPS or the grocery store is a bit stifling. Yes, I realize I don't get out a ton, but I do get out some with the boys during the week. And now that's not happening. I'm constantly tethered to a child in some way and if that's how it has to be for three months...well, we'll figure out a way to make that work without someone getting hurt.
Overall, we're doing ok. Eden is thriving, the boys are doting, and Austin and I are slowly starting to find our rhythm with three kids, me especially. We have our first visit with the cardiologist tomorrow and will hopefully get a little more information on what the future months are going to look like.
At the end of the day, though, we are appreciative of everything people are doing for us, even if it's just praying (which isn't really a "just"). Once we know more of what we need, we'll let people know, I promise. Right now, just keep doing whatever it is you're doing.
Wednesday, February 4, 2015
Saturday, January 31, 2015
Broken Hearted
No parent wants their child to have so much as the sniffles, so imagine the frisson of alarm that went through me on Monday when I was told my perfect, pink, newborn daughter had a "significant heart murmur." Let's start from the beginning....
As you know, Eden was born at home on purpose. There were a few issues with her breathing at the very beginning, but we all assumed it was due to the suddenness of her birth. After we got her breathing well, she was pink and perfect and showed no signs of distress or illness of any kind. Which we expected. She was a perfectly normal baby.
Since she was born at home, we had to take her to the pediatrician to get her newborn vaccinations and order the blood type test (I'm RH negative but that's a whole other story), which we did Monday afternoon. She got her PKU and her shots and while the doctor was doing her routine check, she noticed the murmur. She immediately decided that we needed an echocardiogram, or ECG. Very basically, that's an ultrasound of the chest. She didn't think it was any kind of emergency, so we simply called Abilene Regional and scheduled it for Thursday morning.
We went home and started researching online what exactly an ECG is, what heart murmurs are likely in newborns, and what the outcome could be. I was actually fairly comforted by what I found, especially after my mom said it was probably a PDA, patent ductus arteriosus. It's essentially a little bridge between the pulmonary artery and the aorta that is present in the womb and closes very soon after birth. Asher had a tiny murmur at 2 weeks that was gone at 2 months that very likely was something like that that self corrected. So we figured that was probably it.
Thursday we dropped the boys off a little early (Kathy McFall is the best) and headed to Regional. We checked in and began the first of what was to be many waits. Around 9.30 we were called back to fill out paperwork, then went to wait again for the ECG.
The two techs who did the test actually knew Dad, so that was pretty cool. Mom had told us it would probably take about a half hour, so when we hit the 60 minute mark of them rubbing a little wand around on my newborn's chest, I felt that tingle of "something's not right." Plus I heard the phrase "pulmonary artery bifurcation" which means the pulmonary artery is split. Not good. Occasionally they'd do a color scan and you could see red and blue stuff pulsing along with her heart beat and they were mixing. Also probably not good. At about the 30 minute mark they got a doctor in to look at the scans and he spent another 30 minutes looking. Of course, no one tells you anything, but one tech did leave in order to send some scans to another doctor somewhere to be evaluated.
After the scan, around 11am, we were escorted to a small exam room where they took her blood pressure on all her limbs and told us to wait. Which we did. I nursed, Eden pooped, we both napped. Around 12.30, I realized I hadn't eaten since 8am and was starving, so I went to Subway across the street to get some food for us. The doctor looking at scans elsewhere was getting a third opinion and we had no idea how long it would take for anyone to decide to say anything.
While I was gone, Austin talked to the second doctor, Dr. Dyer at Children's Medical Hospital in Dallas. Basically, his understanding was that there was something wrong and we needed to go to Dallas for observation. Her heart was twisted. What that meant, we had no idea. Mom was confused by our fumbling words since they didn't make sense.
We headed towards home with no clue what was going on. We got a call from Children's telling us to come that night and to pack for a few days. Now we were really freaked out.
We met Mom and Bob at the house around 1 and proceeded to pack blindly, throwing clothing and miscellaneous stuff into bags and bags into cars. For the boys, rather than attempt to pack a suitcase, we just sent the laundry hamper full of clean clothes with Mom, who offered to take them for us. We stuffed clothes into a bag for Eden, even knowing she wouldn't wear them while in the hospital, and headed out. At one point, I just stopped and said out loud "I can buy anything I need there, let's just go."
Bob went and got the boys from FKO early so we could say good bye and we were on the road shortly after 2. I posted on facebook a little about what was going on and was immediately inundated by texts and comments offering support and prayers and offers of help in any way we could name.
We got to the hospital around 5.30 and after a (seemingly) lengthy check in process, we were escorted to the cardiac floor and shown to our room. Eden had last nursed at 11am, then proceeded to sleep until 5.45 and insisted on nursing as soon as she woke up, so I walked through the hospital nursing my baby with no shame.
On the way, Austin's parents agreed to take the boys so Mom and Bob could come be with us in the hospital and Mom could get a better understanding and help us understand what was going on. They met us at the hospital around 7 and we met with a doctor who finally told us what was going on.
Eden has four things going on in her tiny little heart (tiny in size, not necessarily in emotion): a patent ductus arteriosus (PDA), an Levo Transposition of the Greater Arteries (L-TGA), a Venticular Sepal Defect (VSD) and a Pulmonary Stenosis (PS). The doctor drew this diagram to help explain things:
As you know, Eden was born at home on purpose. There were a few issues with her breathing at the very beginning, but we all assumed it was due to the suddenness of her birth. After we got her breathing well, she was pink and perfect and showed no signs of distress or illness of any kind. Which we expected. She was a perfectly normal baby.
Since she was born at home, we had to take her to the pediatrician to get her newborn vaccinations and order the blood type test (I'm RH negative but that's a whole other story), which we did Monday afternoon. She got her PKU and her shots and while the doctor was doing her routine check, she noticed the murmur. She immediately decided that we needed an echocardiogram, or ECG. Very basically, that's an ultrasound of the chest. She didn't think it was any kind of emergency, so we simply called Abilene Regional and scheduled it for Thursday morning.
We went home and started researching online what exactly an ECG is, what heart murmurs are likely in newborns, and what the outcome could be. I was actually fairly comforted by what I found, especially after my mom said it was probably a PDA, patent ductus arteriosus. It's essentially a little bridge between the pulmonary artery and the aorta that is present in the womb and closes very soon after birth. Asher had a tiny murmur at 2 weeks that was gone at 2 months that very likely was something like that that self corrected. So we figured that was probably it.
Thursday we dropped the boys off a little early (Kathy McFall is the best) and headed to Regional. We checked in and began the first of what was to be many waits. Around 9.30 we were called back to fill out paperwork, then went to wait again for the ECG.
The two techs who did the test actually knew Dad, so that was pretty cool. Mom had told us it would probably take about a half hour, so when we hit the 60 minute mark of them rubbing a little wand around on my newborn's chest, I felt that tingle of "something's not right." Plus I heard the phrase "pulmonary artery bifurcation" which means the pulmonary artery is split. Not good. Occasionally they'd do a color scan and you could see red and blue stuff pulsing along with her heart beat and they were mixing. Also probably not good. At about the 30 minute mark they got a doctor in to look at the scans and he spent another 30 minutes looking. Of course, no one tells you anything, but one tech did leave in order to send some scans to another doctor somewhere to be evaluated.
After the scan, around 11am, we were escorted to a small exam room where they took her blood pressure on all her limbs and told us to wait. Which we did. I nursed, Eden pooped, we both napped. Around 12.30, I realized I hadn't eaten since 8am and was starving, so I went to Subway across the street to get some food for us. The doctor looking at scans elsewhere was getting a third opinion and we had no idea how long it would take for anyone to decide to say anything.
While I was gone, Austin talked to the second doctor, Dr. Dyer at Children's Medical Hospital in Dallas. Basically, his understanding was that there was something wrong and we needed to go to Dallas for observation. Her heart was twisted. What that meant, we had no idea. Mom was confused by our fumbling words since they didn't make sense.
We headed towards home with no clue what was going on. We got a call from Children's telling us to come that night and to pack for a few days. Now we were really freaked out.
We met Mom and Bob at the house around 1 and proceeded to pack blindly, throwing clothing and miscellaneous stuff into bags and bags into cars. For the boys, rather than attempt to pack a suitcase, we just sent the laundry hamper full of clean clothes with Mom, who offered to take them for us. We stuffed clothes into a bag for Eden, even knowing she wouldn't wear them while in the hospital, and headed out. At one point, I just stopped and said out loud "I can buy anything I need there, let's just go."
Bob went and got the boys from FKO early so we could say good bye and we were on the road shortly after 2. I posted on facebook a little about what was going on and was immediately inundated by texts and comments offering support and prayers and offers of help in any way we could name.
We got to the hospital around 5.30 and after a (seemingly) lengthy check in process, we were escorted to the cardiac floor and shown to our room. Eden had last nursed at 11am, then proceeded to sleep until 5.45 and insisted on nursing as soon as she woke up, so I walked through the hospital nursing my baby with no shame.
On the way, Austin's parents agreed to take the boys so Mom and Bob could come be with us in the hospital and Mom could get a better understanding and help us understand what was going on. They met us at the hospital around 7 and we met with a doctor who finally told us what was going on.
Eden has four things going on in her tiny little heart (tiny in size, not necessarily in emotion): a patent ductus arteriosus (PDA), an Levo Transposition of the Greater Arteries (L-TGA), a Venticular Sepal Defect (VSD) and a Pulmonary Stenosis (PS). The doctor drew this diagram to help explain things:
Yeah, it's confusing. Basically, the PDA is the little bridge between the pulmonary artery and the aorta, The L-TGA is when the pulmonary artery and the aorta are switched and the left and right ventricles (lower chambers of the heart) are switched. It's a congenitally corrected thing meaning that during development the cells attempted to fix the problems. A VSD is a hole in the wall between the ventricles. This allows the red and blue blood to mix (with and without oxygen). The PS in Eden is thickened pulmonary valves leading out of the left ventricle.
I know. A lot to take in and it's hard to really understand. The diagram actually helps, I promise. Maybe this one will help a little more. It's still confusing.
Several of these issues will occur together when they occur and typically can be fatal if not taken care of. All together, though, they're what's keeping Eden alive.
The left ventricle is stronger than the right and so it'll pump the blood harder and faster. That could wear out her heart quickly and cause some issues with the PDA. HOWEVER...the PS slows the blood down so that everything pumps a little better. The PDA being open is helping circulate the blood around the correct way, too. The L-TGA means the blood is going from the correct ventricle to the correct location. The VSD is mixing the blood so that helps keep things working too (sorry, I can't remember all the details, it's been a bit of an info dump the last two days).
It's insane, but her little wackadoodle heart is so messed up that it's working ok for now.
They hooked our tiny baby up to a bunch of machines (luckily no iv's or anything inserted into her body, just wires taped down) and we settled in for the night. Because of an child's death during co-sleep, it's no longer allowed at the hospital, so we were in for a long night. Eden sleeps best when on someone, or at least very close. So she (and we) didn't really sleep until she just wore herself out around 3.30.
Friday morning, we went for another ECG around 11. It was another hour long procedure with the tech getting the doctor in for the last 10 minutes or so. Then we went back to our room to wait some more. Mom and Bob came and kept us company, more doctors, nurses, residents, medical students, fellows, nurse practitioners and physician's assistants came in, all interested in hearing our daughter's heart. Apparently, it's a pretty cool murmur, at least according to the medical students. They were two guys who looked almost giddy to be assigned to Eden's team. Later, I thought "I should have told them that it's probably not best in the future to tell a sick child's parents 'We heard your kid has a really cool heart murmur, can we listen?'" We weren't offended and were fine with them listening, but others might not be so open minded.
We got no new information from the second ECG except that they know where some arteries or veins or something are and that will be very important for later.
At some point, we were talking to the doctors again and they confirmed that yes, she will have surgery and yes, it will be open heart. They hope that everything can be fixed in one surgery, but there's a chance they won't be able to. They're also certain that she'll have to have multiple surgeries in her life and for sure she'll always need to see a cardiologist. After the laundry list of acronyms going on, that didn't surprise me.
Interesting note: open heart is not the same as a bypass surgery. They will literally open her heart to operate on it. Bypass is open chest for sure, but the heart isn't opened up.
We were told they wanted to go ahead and do a hearing test, an EKG and an ultrasound of her head and kidneys and take an x-ray of her chest just to make sure everything was good there.
She passed her hearing test, her x-rays were good, and the ultrasound of her kidneys was perfect. She has a very slight bleed in her brain, a Grade 1 Inter-ventricular Hemorrhage. It's probably from her birth. A couple of people said that if they did the head ultrasound on all newborns, they'd probably find it a lot, so there's absolutely no concern on that front. I forgot to ask for the results of the EKG.
The ultrasound and EKG were done late Friday night, after 9pm, so we could get out of the hospital at a decent hour on Saturday. We still got to do the sit around and wait thing Saturday morning, which is pretty much what you do in hospitals it seems. We were scheduled with a Children's cardiologist who comes to Abilene twice a month for some follow up visits. And then, finally, we were told we could go home.
We left the hospital around 2.30, went to Arlington to get the boys, then headed home. Of course as we hit Baird, Elijah threw up on himself so we pulled into a gas station and cleaned him up. He's not really sick, just tired and overly excited after a weekend with his grandparents. As I type, he and his brother are passed out in their own beds, grumpy enough, but happy to be home. It's a confusing bunch of emotions for them.
The surgery to fix Eden's heart is going to be a major one. No idea on how long it will take, but there's a lot to do.
They're going to close the PDA and the VSD and switch the L-TGA and probably fix the PS at the same time (it's not mentioned in the above diagram but we're assuming that). A lot to do on a tiny heart. They're hoping to let her grow as much as possible with the soonest time to do the surgery being when she's 6 months old. Obviously, if she starts having issues, they'll do it sooner. We have a whole list of things to keep an eye out for, so we'll be a tad hyper vigilant. (Yes. That's an awkward phrase. I'm sticking with it.)
She is especially susceptible to respiratory illnesses so we'll have to practically quarantine ourselves during cold and flu season at least until she has the surgery. This really means staying out of unnecessary crowds and making sure people who hold her aren't sick with any kind of cough or sinus anything (including allergies because who knows what you're coughing or sneezing out that doesn't bother other people but might affect her). We'll likely insist on hand washing and even use of hand sanitizer before people hold her just for precaution's sake. We don't think you're gross, we just think you might have germs that can possibly hurt our baby. I'm sorry if that offends you, but my child's health is more important to me than your feelings being hurt. And I'm sorry for how callous that sounds.
To help her with that, she's going to be getting shots of Synergis every month, an antibody against RSV. It's not a vaccine, but that's the easiest way to explain it. It's new and super expensive, but Eden is basically exactly what it was developed for. Fingers crossed insurance pays for it. They should. I've got a whole bunch of literature if anyone cares to read it.
It's all so overwhelming. I have this tiny baby that I'm still getting to know, I'm still recovering from her birth and adjusting to breast-feeding and sleeplessness. I'm trying to figure out the juggle of three kids instead of two...and now I have this thrown at me.
I'll admit, on the way to Dallas, I had no idea what they were going to tell us, but a small part of me tried to brace myself for being told there was nothing they could do and my baby was dying. Were they going to say the murmur was something small and easily repaired? Were they going to tell me this baby I wanted so badly and adore so much had a life expectancy of just a few months or years? I refused to even allow myself to go down the path of the worst case scenario and just blocked it all out. Maybe it was all some kind of mistake and everything was actually ok and this was just going to be an expensive anecdote to tell in the future. I didn't want to even think about all the plans we had for her, all our hopes and dreams because what if....?
Luckily, no one said anything like that. Everyone is very confident that this will be something that can be repaired. Her quality of life will be normal, though she may not be able to be a superstar athlete. We asked about her activity levels as she gets older and the doctor said Eden should be able to play sports and run and play, though she may not play Varsity level sports. We laughed and said a child of ours wasn't terribly likely to be athletic anyway but it's good to know she'll be able to keep up with her brothers. Some of the things are things people can live decades with before it starts to affect them. So she'll be fine. She'll be normal. She'll be a little girl who's heart was broken and then fixed.
The staff at Children's was amazing. Everyone was so friendly and oohed and aahed over our perfect girl. They were impressed with our handling of the situation and her easy going nature. We assured them we do cry about it, but we try to keep that private, just because it doesn't do any good or change the situation.
Our family and friends have been so supportive over the last 72 hours, calling, texting, messaging on facebook, visiting and bringing us things (thanks James and Nhu and Cari!) and that is overwhelming in a good way. There's so much more to learn about and more to go through and I'm sure I've got some of the details wrong above, but this is my current understanding of the situation.
My daughter has an extremely rare heart. It's put together in such a way that it's working against the odds. She's perfect in every other way and the only way her heart is negatively affecting her is that she has poor blood circulation in her feet (they're a bit cyanotic, or purple). She eats and sleeps well (when against people) and her kidneys and bowels work great. She's wonderful and we fall more in love with her every day. And we'll get to do so for a long time.
Our sweet little ladybug. I promise that's a newborn outfit, she's just tiny.
Saturday, January 24, 2015
Introducing Eden Elizabeth, the newest EE!
If you've heard my previous birth stories for the boys, you know I don't do birth half assed. Asher was five hours from start to finish, Elijah was 2. Eden...well, she decided to be a little different.
I started having light contractions in the middle of the night on Thursday. I let the MDO teachers know what was up just in case things progressed but of course they did not. Contractions off and on all day Thursday and then all morning Friday with no real advancement is kind of annoying. Around noon, I decided to take a nap because I was tired and the grandparents were in town and Austin was home "just in case" so I could without worrying about children destroying the house.
I woke up around 3.30 with harder contractions. Nothing I couldn't handle, just uncomfortable and frequent, about 4 minutes apart. We waited until they'd continued for a half hour before informing people. Carol, the midwife, came at 4.30 and checked me and said we had a while to go (I was 3 cm) and to call her before they got really bad. We rearranged our dinner plans to eat here, called and texted everyone, and kept on timing the contractions.
Mom showed up with food around 5.30 and by 6 I was in the bedroom with hard contractions that hurt a whole whole lot. We debated calling Carol but figured I had a while yet. I decided that I'd wait until after dinner to call everyone because surely we had time.
At 6.30 the contractions were almost unbearable so Mom checked me. I was at a 6 so we decided to call Carol and text/call everyone else to come on. I probably still had a couple of hours.
Probably 2 minutes later (not exaggerating) I felt the urge to push with every single contraction, which were now pretty much on top of each other. I was still laying down and it took a lot of strength and two people to help me get into my preferred position. I had wanted to change into something else to wear but there was literally no time. I could feel her crowning, Austin and Mom could see it, there were just a few pushes on a couple contractions and Eden fell out into her daddy's hands. It was less than 15 minutes since Mom checked me at 6.30.
We attempted to get an audio of her first cry but I'm actually not sure if we did or not. Austin will have to check his phone. I remember pushing a button to start but not sure about stopping. She got wrapped up in a flannel blanket her great-grandmother made and handed to me. My and Austin's clothes were covered in blood and goop and she was too but she was otherwise beautiful and perfect. Still is, to be honest.
I seriously never know what to expect with delivery. I suppose this is the most normal of my three, but it was still crazy. She was taking her time, then all of a sudden changed her mind and wanted out right. now.
No one was present for her actual birth but her parents and her grandmother, who, thank god, knew what to do while we waited the few minutes for Carol to arrive. Her other grandparents and her brothers were in the house but I'm not sure what they heard. The boys don't seem traumatized this morning, so I'm betting they're ok. Her grandfathers went out and got her a birthday cake, because why not? Her aunts and uncle came to see her, as did two surrogate aunts and a cousin. She hasn't cried much (granted, she's less than 24 hours old) and has taken to nursing like a champ except when it means getting taken away from Daddy. Apparently she's already chosen him as her favorite. Maybe because he's the first face she saw, maybe because his body temp is higher than mine so skin to skin with him is warmer. Either way, she sleeps REALLY well on Daddy's chest.
So, thank you to everyone who was here and who helped and supported our decision to have a home birth. Thank you to Mom and Austin for catching her and helping me with that last insane 15 minutes. Thank you to Mom for making dinner and taking over the rest of the guests. Thank you to Bob and Allen for getting cake and the two of them and Beth for keeping the boys preoccupied. Thank you to Carol for being our midwife and for doing the important stuff that needs to be done after the birth. Thank you to Amy for being the rock star soulmate and doing things she never thought she'd do and seeing things she never thought she'd see. I love you! Thank you to John for coming and taking pictures and to Kristen and Brandon for coming and bringing Gatorade and flowers. Thank you to Cari and Stephanie and Victoria for just coming and celebrating our baby with us (and for Cari getting us some groceries and lunch today). It's been an intense 24 hours and we couldn't have done it as easily without you.
I started having light contractions in the middle of the night on Thursday. I let the MDO teachers know what was up just in case things progressed but of course they did not. Contractions off and on all day Thursday and then all morning Friday with no real advancement is kind of annoying. Around noon, I decided to take a nap because I was tired and the grandparents were in town and Austin was home "just in case" so I could without worrying about children destroying the house.
I woke up around 3.30 with harder contractions. Nothing I couldn't handle, just uncomfortable and frequent, about 4 minutes apart. We waited until they'd continued for a half hour before informing people. Carol, the midwife, came at 4.30 and checked me and said we had a while to go (I was 3 cm) and to call her before they got really bad. We rearranged our dinner plans to eat here, called and texted everyone, and kept on timing the contractions.
Mom showed up with food around 5.30 and by 6 I was in the bedroom with hard contractions that hurt a whole whole lot. We debated calling Carol but figured I had a while yet. I decided that I'd wait until after dinner to call everyone because surely we had time.
At 6.30 the contractions were almost unbearable so Mom checked me. I was at a 6 so we decided to call Carol and text/call everyone else to come on. I probably still had a couple of hours.
Probably 2 minutes later (not exaggerating) I felt the urge to push with every single contraction, which were now pretty much on top of each other. I was still laying down and it took a lot of strength and two people to help me get into my preferred position. I had wanted to change into something else to wear but there was literally no time. I could feel her crowning, Austin and Mom could see it, there were just a few pushes on a couple contractions and Eden fell out into her daddy's hands. It was less than 15 minutes since Mom checked me at 6.30.
We attempted to get an audio of her first cry but I'm actually not sure if we did or not. Austin will have to check his phone. I remember pushing a button to start but not sure about stopping. She got wrapped up in a flannel blanket her great-grandmother made and handed to me. My and Austin's clothes were covered in blood and goop and she was too but she was otherwise beautiful and perfect. Still is, to be honest.
I seriously never know what to expect with delivery. I suppose this is the most normal of my three, but it was still crazy. She was taking her time, then all of a sudden changed her mind and wanted out right. now.
No one was present for her actual birth but her parents and her grandmother, who, thank god, knew what to do while we waited the few minutes for Carol to arrive. Her other grandparents and her brothers were in the house but I'm not sure what they heard. The boys don't seem traumatized this morning, so I'm betting they're ok. Her grandfathers went out and got her a birthday cake, because why not? Her aunts and uncle came to see her, as did two surrogate aunts and a cousin. She hasn't cried much (granted, she's less than 24 hours old) and has taken to nursing like a champ except when it means getting taken away from Daddy. Apparently she's already chosen him as her favorite. Maybe because he's the first face she saw, maybe because his body temp is higher than mine so skin to skin with him is warmer. Either way, she sleeps REALLY well on Daddy's chest.
So, thank you to everyone who was here and who helped and supported our decision to have a home birth. Thank you to Mom and Austin for catching her and helping me with that last insane 15 minutes. Thank you to Mom for making dinner and taking over the rest of the guests. Thank you to Bob and Allen for getting cake and the two of them and Beth for keeping the boys preoccupied. Thank you to Carol for being our midwife and for doing the important stuff that needs to be done after the birth. Thank you to Amy for being the rock star soulmate and doing things she never thought she'd do and seeing things she never thought she'd see. I love you! Thank you to John for coming and taking pictures and to Kristen and Brandon for coming and bringing Gatorade and flowers. Thank you to Cari and Stephanie and Victoria for just coming and celebrating our baby with us (and for Cari getting us some groceries and lunch today). It's been an intense 24 hours and we couldn't have done it as easily without you.
Fast asleep on Daddy's chest.
Thursday, January 1, 2015
Goodbye 2014, Hello 2015
Holy cow, 2014. What. Just....what.
This time one year ago, I had a 3 year old and a 15 month old and was starting to reconsider my decision that we were done having babies. A couple of months earlier I'd given away a TON of baby clothes from newborn through 12 months to a young woman in our church who was having a baby because I was finished. Pregnancy and newbornhood were just more than I could handle with two, no way was I going through all that a third time. (Spoilers ahead.....)
My mom was still a widow but seeming to get into the groove of it with fabulous trips around the world, the most recent having been India for three weeks in November. The holidays had been a fun experience for our small family as the boys were really old enough to appreciate Christmas and Thanksgiving with their cousins. Austin had settled into his new job at Ludlum and all seemed right with our little world.
What a difference a year makes.
I really really REALLY wanted a daughter. We'd tried (sort of) a specific method for a girl with Elijah and as you already know, that didn't work out. We love our crazy boy, but a small part of me really wanted to try again for a girl. I was nervous about a third boy (they're a little nutso) but we ultimately decided that yes, we would give it another shot. The first month we were unsuccessful, but the second month it took. Based on our methods and timing, I was pretty sure it was a girl. Needless to say, we were excited either way. I knew what to do with a boy, I had all the clothes and gear and toys for a boy. A boy would be super easy to work into our family. But a little girl....that was what I wished for.
About three weeks into January, Mom informed me she had a date. With a man she'd met online. I was a little skeptical (the previous guys were busts) but encouraging. Apparently, that took because they spent about 3 hours at Abuelo's on their first date and had their second date about 12 hours later. The boys and I met him that second day because our water main broke and we needed a place to stay while it was repaired. He seemed nice enough, but I didn't think too much of it since they hadn't known each other for 24 hours even.
Five months later they got married and expanded our family to the point that I'm actually a great-aunt to a step niece. It was a whirlwind of "wait, seriously? Your mom is getting married? I didn't even realize she was dating!" Yeah, we didn't either.
He did come to each of us kids in turn and ask for our blessing and let us ask him questions about whatever we wanted to and quickly won a place in my kids' hearts by letting them play on his iPad. Plus Elijah is/was at the age where he loves having a grandfather around to sit on.
I reconnected with an old friend in January and we've made a point of getting together as frequently as we can with husbands and kids around and she's expecting her first, also a daughter, about 10 weeks after our little pink bundle. That's been fun, warning her from "the future" of what's coming. Or at least giving her hints of what might come. Not that she needs my advice, she's got three nieces and a nephew, but it's still been fun.
The rest of the year saw hail storms and trouble with insurance companies and a couple of hospital visits for sick kids and morning sickness and probably the worst holiday season I can remember. Austin was sick through Thanksgiving and the boys were sick around Christmas. They were nice enough to pass it on to me and I've gotten to be sick through Christmas and New Year's to the point that I'm currently on antibiotics to help clear this all up. I should be done with the meds just in time to hit full term and "ready to pop any day now."
Overall, 2014 was a good year. We saw more good than bad and the bad typically ended up with something good (new roof and car, little extra money in our pockets for the coming year, the promise of a little girl joining our family). We're looking forward to all that 2015 has to offer. Who knows what it'll be. I'm resigned to the fact that we'll never have a year without something big happening. It's just not our style.
This time one year ago, I had a 3 year old and a 15 month old and was starting to reconsider my decision that we were done having babies. A couple of months earlier I'd given away a TON of baby clothes from newborn through 12 months to a young woman in our church who was having a baby because I was finished. Pregnancy and newbornhood were just more than I could handle with two, no way was I going through all that a third time. (Spoilers ahead.....)
My mom was still a widow but seeming to get into the groove of it with fabulous trips around the world, the most recent having been India for three weeks in November. The holidays had been a fun experience for our small family as the boys were really old enough to appreciate Christmas and Thanksgiving with their cousins. Austin had settled into his new job at Ludlum and all seemed right with our little world.
What a difference a year makes.
I really really REALLY wanted a daughter. We'd tried (sort of) a specific method for a girl with Elijah and as you already know, that didn't work out. We love our crazy boy, but a small part of me really wanted to try again for a girl. I was nervous about a third boy (they're a little nutso) but we ultimately decided that yes, we would give it another shot. The first month we were unsuccessful, but the second month it took. Based on our methods and timing, I was pretty sure it was a girl. Needless to say, we were excited either way. I knew what to do with a boy, I had all the clothes and gear and toys for a boy. A boy would be super easy to work into our family. But a little girl....that was what I wished for.
About three weeks into January, Mom informed me she had a date. With a man she'd met online. I was a little skeptical (the previous guys were busts) but encouraging. Apparently, that took because they spent about 3 hours at Abuelo's on their first date and had their second date about 12 hours later. The boys and I met him that second day because our water main broke and we needed a place to stay while it was repaired. He seemed nice enough, but I didn't think too much of it since they hadn't known each other for 24 hours even.
Five months later they got married and expanded our family to the point that I'm actually a great-aunt to a step niece. It was a whirlwind of "wait, seriously? Your mom is getting married? I didn't even realize she was dating!" Yeah, we didn't either.
He did come to each of us kids in turn and ask for our blessing and let us ask him questions about whatever we wanted to and quickly won a place in my kids' hearts by letting them play on his iPad. Plus Elijah is/was at the age where he loves having a grandfather around to sit on.
I reconnected with an old friend in January and we've made a point of getting together as frequently as we can with husbands and kids around and she's expecting her first, also a daughter, about 10 weeks after our little pink bundle. That's been fun, warning her from "the future" of what's coming. Or at least giving her hints of what might come. Not that she needs my advice, she's got three nieces and a nephew, but it's still been fun.
The rest of the year saw hail storms and trouble with insurance companies and a couple of hospital visits for sick kids and morning sickness and probably the worst holiday season I can remember. Austin was sick through Thanksgiving and the boys were sick around Christmas. They were nice enough to pass it on to me and I've gotten to be sick through Christmas and New Year's to the point that I'm currently on antibiotics to help clear this all up. I should be done with the meds just in time to hit full term and "ready to pop any day now."
Overall, 2014 was a good year. We saw more good than bad and the bad typically ended up with something good (new roof and car, little extra money in our pockets for the coming year, the promise of a little girl joining our family). We're looking forward to all that 2015 has to offer. Who knows what it'll be. I'm resigned to the fact that we'll never have a year without something big happening. It's just not our style.
How we looked last year (it's Asher's birthday and they were far more interested in presents than in picture taking)
And this year. Again, more interested in presents than in pictures or even talking to BB and Papa.
And me and the ladybug who's more of a bowling ball at this point.
Wednesday, December 10, 2014
33 weeks: You all knew I was a little different, right?
We're firmly entrenched in the last trimester and the last two months of this pregnancy. THANK. GOD. It's been hard physically and I'm ready to feel the relief of birth (yes, I realize that's an oxymoron, but I still feel so much better once the baby is born). I weigh more now than I did at the end of Elijah's pregnancy, which I'm betting is the reason my back and legs hurt so much these days. The majority of that extra weight is in my belly and hips and I've got a fairly small frame, so...ouch. Lots of warm baths and stretches to try to ease the aches and pains and tomorrow, a massage that I've been looking forward to for ages. I haven't had more because we're trying to watch our expenses these days, what with holidays and baby coming right after.
For those of you who DIDN'T realize, we're planning a home birth. We're not your typical home birth people, though, so it's been an interesting journey. We didn't have a horrible experience in the hospital with either delivery (Asher's insane delivery was due to the cord around his neck and who knows how that might have worked out at home), we don't dislike doctors, we vaccinate our kids and believe in modern medicine and science. We have insurance and are financially stable. So why do a home birth?
Why not?
My parents had three of their four biological children at home with no complications. My mom delivered babies at home for a period of time and encouraged other mothers to do the same. They felt that modern medicine, while great, had really taken birth and death away from the home. If you're going to die a natural death, why not be at home where you're comfortable and surrounded by loved ones? If you're going to have a natural birth, why not do it at home where you're comfortable and can have whoever you want present?
Both of my hospital deliveries I had nurses and doctors who I'd never met before that day attending me. Austin was at both and Mom only made it to Asher's. I would have welcomed any family member who wanted to be present into the delivery room but the rule was two people, so Mom and Austin were it. At home, As many close friends and family members as can fit comfortably (and not crowd the action) in my bedroom will be welcome.
I know that I'll sleep better that first night in my own bed as opposed to a hospital bed where the nurses are coming in constantly to check on me and the baby, make sure my blood pressure is good, that I'm peeing, etc. I know that I'll feel better not worrying about getting Asher and Elijah somewhere for the delivery and Austin feeling the strain of wanting to be with me but also maintain some kind of normalcy for them at home. I definitely know the food will be better.
All that said, I'm not opposed to the hospital. If something goes wrong, if there is a need, we will definitely be on our way to the hospital pronto. If I go into labor too early, ARMC will be delivering this child. I don't judge women who have their babies in hospitals or who use pain medicines like epidurals or who induce or schedule c-sections. I sometimes wonder why they induce/schedule if there's no medical need, but every woman has to do what is right for her body and her baby. For me, that's no drugs and at home. I hope.
So here's hoping in just a few weeks time, we have an amazing home birth experience, surrounded by loved ones as we welcome this tiny little girl into our family. At the end of the day, though, if she's healthy and I'm healthy, that's all that really matters, no matter how or where she emerges.
Mom and I moments after I was born
For those of you who DIDN'T realize, we're planning a home birth. We're not your typical home birth people, though, so it's been an interesting journey. We didn't have a horrible experience in the hospital with either delivery (Asher's insane delivery was due to the cord around his neck and who knows how that might have worked out at home), we don't dislike doctors, we vaccinate our kids and believe in modern medicine and science. We have insurance and are financially stable. So why do a home birth?
Why not?
My parents had three of their four biological children at home with no complications. My mom delivered babies at home for a period of time and encouraged other mothers to do the same. They felt that modern medicine, while great, had really taken birth and death away from the home. If you're going to die a natural death, why not be at home where you're comfortable and surrounded by loved ones? If you're going to have a natural birth, why not do it at home where you're comfortable and can have whoever you want present?
Both of my hospital deliveries I had nurses and doctors who I'd never met before that day attending me. Austin was at both and Mom only made it to Asher's. I would have welcomed any family member who wanted to be present into the delivery room but the rule was two people, so Mom and Austin were it. At home, As many close friends and family members as can fit comfortably (and not crowd the action) in my bedroom will be welcome.
I know that I'll sleep better that first night in my own bed as opposed to a hospital bed where the nurses are coming in constantly to check on me and the baby, make sure my blood pressure is good, that I'm peeing, etc. I know that I'll feel better not worrying about getting Asher and Elijah somewhere for the delivery and Austin feeling the strain of wanting to be with me but also maintain some kind of normalcy for them at home. I definitely know the food will be better.
All that said, I'm not opposed to the hospital. If something goes wrong, if there is a need, we will definitely be on our way to the hospital pronto. If I go into labor too early, ARMC will be delivering this child. I don't judge women who have their babies in hospitals or who use pain medicines like epidurals or who induce or schedule c-sections. I sometimes wonder why they induce/schedule if there's no medical need, but every woman has to do what is right for her body and her baby. For me, that's no drugs and at home. I hope.
So here's hoping in just a few weeks time, we have an amazing home birth experience, surrounded by loved ones as we welcome this tiny little girl into our family. At the end of the day, though, if she's healthy and I'm healthy, that's all that really matters, no matter how or where she emerges.
My mom's mom holding me shortly after I was born. She and my grandfather gave me my first bath.
Dad holding me right after my birth. He caught and cut the cord for three of his four children.
Monday, November 17, 2014
In the home stretch: week 30
Unless you have been through it, I don't think you really fully grasp how physically demanding pregnancy can be. Especially when you have other kids.
Everyone knows pregnant women are tired all the time, that our backs hurt and our feet swell. Not everyone realizes there's muscle and ligament aches and pains as our bodies stretch to accommodate the growing bowling ball resting on our bladders and pelvises. And of course, the more pregnancies you have, the more it all seems to hurt, at least in my experience.
The muscle aches and pains were a little bit of a surprise with Asher. They weren't too bad, more just aches than pains. With Elijah, they were stronger aches. This time, they're outright pains. It hurts to roll over in bed at night, to the point that I'm wide awake for a couple minutes every time and I have to grab something to help haul me over because pulling myself over using my arms is easier and less painful than using my body to roll normally. Getting up from a sitting position after I've been sitting for more than a couple minutes usually means my hips are locked or out of joint or something so I limp for a little bit, usually the distance from my side of the bed to the bathroom. If it's been an especially trying day, I have to hold on to something or I can't walk. Hot baths and stretching seem to help a lot, though so far everything is extremely temporary. I'm getting a massage someday soon to hopefully help more.
All this is made more interesting by having a two year old who really wants me to pick him up and hold him on my disappearing hips. It was so much easier to do that when there wasn't a bowling ball attached to the front of my body. Luckily, he's usually content to snuggle up on the bed with me or sit in my lap if I stupidly sit on the floor. (Getting up off the floor is already really hard, I'm really hoping I won't have to get down there come January.) He needs help with his diaper changes and my options are generally bend over and change him on his bed, sit down and change him on the floor, or lift him up and change him on the changing table. None of those are great. It's both awesome and frustrating that he's decided that he wants to potty train right now: awesome because we've already had a few successes, frustrating because he's still way too young to really potty train, so he gets frustrated and we get frustrated and then he ends up wearing Asher's underwear over his footie pajamas...though that is a cute visual.
Once the baby's born, though, I'll start to get my body back, but there will be weeks of OTHER aches and pains: breastfeeding hurts and is not physically pleasant, at least not for me. Bleeding, tenderness, overfullness...it all stinks. The muscles pains from delivery aren't limited to just your legs and pelvic area, for me they're all over. I seriously felt like my arms were limp rubber bands after Asher was born. Elijah was so fast I didn't have time to strain anything, so that recovery was much quicker. Plus the absence of hemorrhaging didn't hurt. Plus there's the uterine contractions that happen whenever you nurse that are killer. I had a prescription for extra strength ibuprofen with Elijah and you better believe I took those pills.
At the end of it all, though, you do have a wonderful sweet little baby to show for it all. I have very few stretch marks, thanks to good genes and a diligent application of cocoa butter lotion, but those are a result of carrying 2 3/4 babies in my body. My hips are wider from pushing two children through them. My belly will never be flat, my breasts will never be perky (without surgical help anyway) and my life will never be the same. It hurts, and parts of it really suck, but at the end, when you are handed that sticky, puffy squalling mess of a baby that you just delivered, you feel at the same time invincible and like you're foundering in a sea of uncertainty. Invincible because you just went through probably the most traumatic thing ever and survived and lost because you are now responsible for this tiny creature clasped to your chest. Its an awesome feeling. I look forward to it again in January. And most of all to the lack of constant discomfort come March or April.
Everyone knows pregnant women are tired all the time, that our backs hurt and our feet swell. Not everyone realizes there's muscle and ligament aches and pains as our bodies stretch to accommodate the growing bowling ball resting on our bladders and pelvises. And of course, the more pregnancies you have, the more it all seems to hurt, at least in my experience.
The muscle aches and pains were a little bit of a surprise with Asher. They weren't too bad, more just aches than pains. With Elijah, they were stronger aches. This time, they're outright pains. It hurts to roll over in bed at night, to the point that I'm wide awake for a couple minutes every time and I have to grab something to help haul me over because pulling myself over using my arms is easier and less painful than using my body to roll normally. Getting up from a sitting position after I've been sitting for more than a couple minutes usually means my hips are locked or out of joint or something so I limp for a little bit, usually the distance from my side of the bed to the bathroom. If it's been an especially trying day, I have to hold on to something or I can't walk. Hot baths and stretching seem to help a lot, though so far everything is extremely temporary. I'm getting a massage someday soon to hopefully help more.
All this is made more interesting by having a two year old who really wants me to pick him up and hold him on my disappearing hips. It was so much easier to do that when there wasn't a bowling ball attached to the front of my body. Luckily, he's usually content to snuggle up on the bed with me or sit in my lap if I stupidly sit on the floor. (Getting up off the floor is already really hard, I'm really hoping I won't have to get down there come January.) He needs help with his diaper changes and my options are generally bend over and change him on his bed, sit down and change him on the floor, or lift him up and change him on the changing table. None of those are great. It's both awesome and frustrating that he's decided that he wants to potty train right now: awesome because we've already had a few successes, frustrating because he's still way too young to really potty train, so he gets frustrated and we get frustrated and then he ends up wearing Asher's underwear over his footie pajamas...though that is a cute visual.
Once the baby's born, though, I'll start to get my body back, but there will be weeks of OTHER aches and pains: breastfeeding hurts and is not physically pleasant, at least not for me. Bleeding, tenderness, overfullness...it all stinks. The muscles pains from delivery aren't limited to just your legs and pelvic area, for me they're all over. I seriously felt like my arms were limp rubber bands after Asher was born. Elijah was so fast I didn't have time to strain anything, so that recovery was much quicker. Plus the absence of hemorrhaging didn't hurt. Plus there's the uterine contractions that happen whenever you nurse that are killer. I had a prescription for extra strength ibuprofen with Elijah and you better believe I took those pills.
At the end of it all, though, you do have a wonderful sweet little baby to show for it all. I have very few stretch marks, thanks to good genes and a diligent application of cocoa butter lotion, but those are a result of carrying 2 3/4 babies in my body. My hips are wider from pushing two children through them. My belly will never be flat, my breasts will never be perky (without surgical help anyway) and my life will never be the same. It hurts, and parts of it really suck, but at the end, when you are handed that sticky, puffy squalling mess of a baby that you just delivered, you feel at the same time invincible and like you're foundering in a sea of uncertainty. Invincible because you just went through probably the most traumatic thing ever and survived and lost because you are now responsible for this tiny creature clasped to your chest. Its an awesome feeling. I look forward to it again in January. And most of all to the lack of constant discomfort come March or April.
Elijah 1 minute old. I already feel tons better.
Monday, November 3, 2014
Things we don't tell our kids
It's not that we're terrible people, we just don't tell our boys "good job" anymore. Austin read an article online about how telling your kids good job may lead them to try to do things just to please the adults in their lives, not necessarily because it needs to be done or to please themselves. We want our boys to be independent (which they are) and not having to have the approval of others all the time. We want them to do things for the satisfaction of accomplishing it and doing it well, a sense of satisfaction that can only come from themselves. So, instead, we say something different.
Depending on what's going on, we will say "thank you" or "you're right." If Asher is doing schoolwork (nothing too strenuous, we're learning letters and numbers and how to read) and finishes and looks up for praise, I enthusiastically say "You read all those words! Were they hard? Were there words you didn't know? How did you figure out what they were?" It's all about tone of voice. He'll explain to me, sometimes, how he did it. Usually he says it wasn't hard. If its hard, he doesn't want to do it and tells me "Well, I'm just a little boy and this is hard." To which we typically respond "Yeah, but you're a little boy who knows his letters/can put on his shoes/take off his pants/whatever his current dilemma is." Sometimes that works, sometimes if I ignore his pleas for help, he figures it out on his own.
We don't tell them to do things very often. My family has experienced a bit of rebellion in the past few years as we kids have become adults and still feel like we're being told to do things rather than asked by our family members. So, I've made a conscious effort with my own boys to ask them to do things. Its amazing how much quicker things get done at times if you say "Would you please put the toys away?" instead of "Put the toys away." Of course, sometimes they don't "hear" me and it devolves into me shouting "Put the toys away now or Mommy's going to throw them in the trash!" I've actually followed through on that a couple times. There's a reason they have so few books available to them at this time, and very few of those have pages instead of boards. Even Elijah is getting in on this better behavior. Every morning, he has a Carnation Breakfast Essential and he'll bring me his cup and the packet of powder (kind of like hot cocoa mix for milk) and then wait patiently while I prepare it, throwing away the empty packet and then dancing and saying "shake it mommy!" (you have to shake the milk and powder together) before asking politely for his cup and thanking me for handing it to him.
We don't say "Uh oh!" when they fall, or ask them if they're ok. We TELL them "You're ok. In fact, you're awesome." If WE don't react negatively to a fall, they won't either. Asher used to just jump up and rub the spot that was banged and say "I awesome!" before anyone could react. It's tricky when we're around others who's first instinct is to say "uh oh! Are you ok? Poor baby!" because a lot of the time, the boys will think they're supposed to cry or something instead of just going on about their play.
Once, when Elijah was an infant, I was in the next room changing him or something and Asher fell and I HEARD him hit the floor pretty hard. I couldn't get to him right away but I heard him say "You ok? Yeah, I awesome." He wasn't even 2 yet.
We don't censor what our kids wear that much. I figure, unless there's a REASON they need to be dressed nicely (special occasions, pictures, etc) they can wear whatever they want. That's why Asher's pants and underwear are almost always on backwards. That's why he frequently looks like he got dressed in the dark. Elijah still needs a lot more assistance, but once he's figured out how to put on his own pants and pick out his own clothes, all bets are off. Same with the ladybug, when she gets older. I anticipate some highly entertaining outfits in my future, considering we've already had a camo pants/bright orange shirt/black sandals with socks (shudder) combo from Asher. This past weekend they stayed with their grandparents for a night and when we got them back, Asher was wearing his brother's pants and socks (which Elijah had outgrown months ago and worn the day before) and his shoes were on the wrong feet. At least he had clothes ON, right? And he was fine with his ensemble. I did have to fix the pants, since they were desperately too short, and the shoes got fixed at the same time the pants did, but we left the socks until bedtime. He doesn't care his heel is hanging out of his socks. It makes them easier to take off, gosh Mom.
In spite of the things we don't do with our boys, I feel like we DO do a lot. We read with them. We play with them. I occasionally take them places other than Oma's, school, and church. We watch movies together and practice our letters together. We have wrestlemania in Mommy's bed when Mommy's trying to rest (not such a fan of that one). We go to friends' houses and try not to be too obnoxious, though that can sometimes be hard. We go to the movie theater and trick-or-treating THREE TIMES. We eat their favorite meals and snacks and drink lots of their favorite drinks.
Yes, there are times I yell a lot. There are days where it starts bad and gets worse. There are days when I'd probably trade them for a half a stick of gum. But typically, those days are few and far between. Mostly in August when we don't have FKO and October when Austin's busy most Saturdays and evenings with the BEST Robotics Competition. I try to always tell them I'm sorry and give them hugs and kisses when I have a mean mommy day. And Asher reminds me frequently "Yeah, but you shouldn't yell at us Mommy. It's not nice."
No, it's not. And I'm glad that's something he will tell me.
Depending on what's going on, we will say "thank you" or "you're right." If Asher is doing schoolwork (nothing too strenuous, we're learning letters and numbers and how to read) and finishes and looks up for praise, I enthusiastically say "You read all those words! Were they hard? Were there words you didn't know? How did you figure out what they were?" It's all about tone of voice. He'll explain to me, sometimes, how he did it. Usually he says it wasn't hard. If its hard, he doesn't want to do it and tells me "Well, I'm just a little boy and this is hard." To which we typically respond "Yeah, but you're a little boy who knows his letters/can put on his shoes/take off his pants/whatever his current dilemma is." Sometimes that works, sometimes if I ignore his pleas for help, he figures it out on his own.
We don't tell them to do things very often. My family has experienced a bit of rebellion in the past few years as we kids have become adults and still feel like we're being told to do things rather than asked by our family members. So, I've made a conscious effort with my own boys to ask them to do things. Its amazing how much quicker things get done at times if you say "Would you please put the toys away?" instead of "Put the toys away." Of course, sometimes they don't "hear" me and it devolves into me shouting "Put the toys away now or Mommy's going to throw them in the trash!" I've actually followed through on that a couple times. There's a reason they have so few books available to them at this time, and very few of those have pages instead of boards. Even Elijah is getting in on this better behavior. Every morning, he has a Carnation Breakfast Essential and he'll bring me his cup and the packet of powder (kind of like hot cocoa mix for milk) and then wait patiently while I prepare it, throwing away the empty packet and then dancing and saying "shake it mommy!" (you have to shake the milk and powder together) before asking politely for his cup and thanking me for handing it to him.
We don't say "Uh oh!" when they fall, or ask them if they're ok. We TELL them "You're ok. In fact, you're awesome." If WE don't react negatively to a fall, they won't either. Asher used to just jump up and rub the spot that was banged and say "I awesome!" before anyone could react. It's tricky when we're around others who's first instinct is to say "uh oh! Are you ok? Poor baby!" because a lot of the time, the boys will think they're supposed to cry or something instead of just going on about their play.
Once, when Elijah was an infant, I was in the next room changing him or something and Asher fell and I HEARD him hit the floor pretty hard. I couldn't get to him right away but I heard him say "You ok? Yeah, I awesome." He wasn't even 2 yet.
We don't censor what our kids wear that much. I figure, unless there's a REASON they need to be dressed nicely (special occasions, pictures, etc) they can wear whatever they want. That's why Asher's pants and underwear are almost always on backwards. That's why he frequently looks like he got dressed in the dark. Elijah still needs a lot more assistance, but once he's figured out how to put on his own pants and pick out his own clothes, all bets are off. Same with the ladybug, when she gets older. I anticipate some highly entertaining outfits in my future, considering we've already had a camo pants/bright orange shirt/black sandals with socks (shudder) combo from Asher. This past weekend they stayed with their grandparents for a night and when we got them back, Asher was wearing his brother's pants and socks (which Elijah had outgrown months ago and worn the day before) and his shoes were on the wrong feet. At least he had clothes ON, right? And he was fine with his ensemble. I did have to fix the pants, since they were desperately too short, and the shoes got fixed at the same time the pants did, but we left the socks until bedtime. He doesn't care his heel is hanging out of his socks. It makes them easier to take off, gosh Mom.
In spite of the things we don't do with our boys, I feel like we DO do a lot. We read with them. We play with them. I occasionally take them places other than Oma's, school, and church. We watch movies together and practice our letters together. We have wrestlemania in Mommy's bed when Mommy's trying to rest (not such a fan of that one). We go to friends' houses and try not to be too obnoxious, though that can sometimes be hard. We go to the movie theater and trick-or-treating THREE TIMES. We eat their favorite meals and snacks and drink lots of their favorite drinks.
Yes, there are times I yell a lot. There are days where it starts bad and gets worse. There are days when I'd probably trade them for a half a stick of gum. But typically, those days are few and far between. Mostly in August when we don't have FKO and October when Austin's busy most Saturdays and evenings with the BEST Robotics Competition. I try to always tell them I'm sorry and give them hugs and kisses when I have a mean mommy day. And Asher reminds me frequently "Yeah, but you shouldn't yell at us Mommy. It's not nice."
No, it's not. And I'm glad that's something he will tell me.
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