Friday Five

5 things from this week....

1) Co-workers who bring me chocolate. Specifically Chunky candy bars, the giant size.

2) Dinner date with Husband, first one since before ERP was born (YES!!!)

3) A very cool new babysitter, seeing as our last sitter "left" us when she went away to college and is now a graduate of a 4 year nursing program and working on her Masters.

4) The cool new babysitter's mom, who is teaching HIM, yes our new sitter is a HIM (good role model for RR) the ins and outs of babysitting.

5) Sushi lunch at work, paid for by work

It has been a good week.... because ERP also won the baby contest and RR won the youth cake award....

Rolling

There comes a time in every women's pregnancy that rolling over in bed feels like climbing mount Everest.

There are many steps involved in rolling over in bed while pregnant:

1) Lay in bed and try and decide if you really need to roll over

2) Judge how far away Husband is from you and if you have room to roll over

3) Jar Husband in the ribs so he grunts and rolls away from you in his sleep

4) Swing the pillow from the side of your head over to other side of head

5) Lay in bed and try and decide if you REALLY need to roll over

6) Think about pillow positioned between your knees, are you awake enough to roll and keep this pillow in place

7) Remove pillow from between knees and toss to your other side

8) Pray pillow did not land on floor

9) Lay in bed and try and decide if you REALLY need to roll over

10) Place one hand under bulging pregnant belly, gather momentum and roll

11) Lay in bed and catch your breath - You made it!!!

12) Search out pillow for between knees while trying to move as little as possible

13) Position pillow at head and sink in to comfy-ness

14) Re-adjust pillow between knees

15) Breath sigh of relief and hope to fall back to sleep soon

16) Realize you have to go to the bathroom because your center of gravity has shifted onto your bladder

17) Curse Husband for snoring so softly

18) Lay in bed and think about it: do you REALLY have to go to the bathroom......


...... to be continued

This Morning

This morning TT woke up very determined.  I lifted him out of his crib and we went and sat on the rocking chair to nurse, just as we have done for years now.  As soon as we sat down he started asking for his "truck", so I put him down, turned on the light and told him to go get it.

He immediatly went over to the door and started pulling on the safety cover yelling "stuck" (which in TT speak sounds a lot like truck).  Clearly the truck he wanted wasn't in his bedroom.  I tried to distract him and coax him back over to nurse by opening the blinds and showing him the trees.  The trees have been his new thing lately, he needs to look at the trees outside while we nurse.  But that was a no go.

So I opened his bedroom door and told him "Ok, go get your truck."  He stopped and looked at me.  He gave me the "are you crazy" stare and demanded, "sack".  Ah yes, his sleep-sack.  He will not leave his bedroom wearing it.  So I took off the sleep sack and he stood at the top of the stairs staring at me like "well, aren't you going to carry me down, I certainly can't float down".  So down we went.  He raced around the house looking for it, calling out for it it tears "truck, truck".  But it was no where to be found.

I guessed, incorrectly, that it was left in my car yesterday... so I donned a pair of black dress shows along with my green and white polka dotted jamma-pants and pink t-shirt and went out looking for the car... praying no one saw me.  TT followed me to the porch, tears streaming down his face.  No truck.

It was time for the big guns and I woke up Husband.  "Did you look outside?" he asked... of course I did grumbling as I went back downstairs to a crying toddler.... then it hit me, oh that outside.  Outside on the porch where TT had been playing yesterday afternoon.  And sure enough that is where it was.  The truck was found an in the boys hands just as Husband made his way downstairs.  All the while the Big Boy is upstairs yelling "Why is TT down stairs already?"  What a morning.... and then we nursed, on the chair in the living room while he drove the truck up and down my chest.

Thankful

It's been a rough few weeks here in our house; Husband appears to be falling apart.  Last week he pulled a muscle out in his back.  Just as he seemed to be starting to make a rebound from that he developed a problem tooth.  The tooth was sore, and then his face started to swell, and then his tongue swelled, and he was getting strange pockets of puss in his mouth.  He made an appointment with his dentist.

Thursday evening I dropped him off at the dentist and took the boys to the library.  We had been at the library for about 10 minutes when Husband called.  First he was being told he had to go see an oral surgeon right away; but then when no oral surgeon was found to still be on-call he was told he had to go to the ER.  The dentist told him if I wasn't going to drive him; Husband being the dad he is was worried about keeping the boys out too late, especially on a school night, then he was going in an ambulance.  Apparently this was more serious than we thought it was.  I drove him to the ER and we agreed I would take the boys to dinner (since it was now going on 5) and then for a walk and we'd decide from there what to do next with them.

Dinner was oh so good, and the boys really showed down; but I was too worried about Husband to eat.  The walk was good, the sky was a bright hopeful blue and the air was just a little crisp; and again the boys were both being angles.

After the walk I decided to let the boys watch some cartoons in the car before heading into the hospital; as it was just going on 7pm now, and for some reason I felt like it was too soon to see how things where.

Around 7:30 we went in and I asked for Husband at the front desk.  The receptionist was very serious and somber and I suddenly feared the worst.  She told me he was out getting a CAT scan and told me where his bed was located and that we could wait for him there.  I think we only waited about 5 or 10 minutes for him to get back from his scan, but the time really seemed to drag on.  When he came back he was in good spirits; which made me smile, and he was hooked up to an IV with fluids, antibiotics and morphine (which I suppose made him smile - no really it was seeing his boys that made him smile).  We were told there was a chance he was going to be admitted to the hospital.  Apparently the infection in his face was just that bad - and too think I thought the dentist was over exaggerating when he said he had never seem something like this before.  We visited with Husband some more, but once TT wanted to start running wild in the ER I knew it was time to go outside.  I opted not to bring the boys home since he hospital seemed to be close to making a decision about Husband staying or not.  We kissed him and went outside to watch more videos in the car; it was now getting very dark out.

As time went on, TT grew tired of being in a non-moving car; as one would expect from a 2 year old; a little after after 8:30 we went to go see what was going on.  Just as we got to the front of the ER out came Husband.  He certainly received a hero's welcome, especially from RR.

On the way home we got his prescriptions filled and treated everyone to a milkshake.  So thankful to have him home with us; and on the mend.

Since then his dentist and primary care doctors have both called several times to follow up with him.  They both tell him what a lucky man he is to be alive.  Apparently the infection and swelling was so bad he was at risk of it closing off his airways.  We are also lucky it didn't develop to strong of a foothold in his blood stream or worse.  So for now he is fighting the infection on a very strong dose of antibiotics and painkillers, and then once the 10 days is up  it's back to the dentist to see where we go from here.

I am thankful he is home with me, on the mend; even if that means snoring in my ear.

The Best Laid Plans

You know what they saw about the best laid plans right?

About 2:20 this afternoon we; RR, TT and myself, were in the activities room at a local nursing home with the rest of the Cub Scouts in RR's pack.  Everyone was singing their hearts out for the residents.  RR was in the back with one of his best buds and TT and I were chilling over on the side with his girlfriend and her mom.  I was having flashbacks to my days a Girl Scout and going Christmas caroling around the the neighborhood.  The streets were snowy and frosty and I am sure my mom had hot chocolate waiting for us when we got back.  It was around this time that I finally decided on where I wanted to go for my belated-birthday dinner; 99 Restaurant.  I was in the mood for steak.

You see I had the best plan laid out for today.  I took the boys to breakfast and grocery shopping in the morning.  TT was suppose to nap when we got home; then lunch and out to Christmas caroling for 2pm.  After caroling was through; and since we were in the neighborhood, we were going to swing into our local Toy and Baby Mega Store and get the boys Christmas gifts off lay-away and grab some needed day-to-day baby items (read disposable diapers for night time and wipes).  We had plans to meet my mom for dinner; and I figured we would go see the mall Santa while waiting for her.

My plan did not take into account what would happen if TT didn't nap.  My plan also didn't take into account what would happen if TT refused lunch.

Guess what?  TT didn't nap.  TT didn't eat lunch, aside from a few bites of banana.

But still I was optimistic.  There we were at the nursing home and the boys were signing and my heart was filling with holiday cheer.  The residents clapped and we began our tour around the facility signing for the residents and handing out cards.  TT was doing well.  Very well.  He was happy and smiling and clapping and flirting with any old lady that would give him a smile.

And then he wasn't.  We reached the end of the rounds and they were handing out ice cream, and TT had to wait to get some and he lost it.  By far the biggest meltdown of his life.  Other parents were trying to console him, offering him toys, music on their phones.  Nothing.  Husband showed up just in time to help me wrangle him into the car.  

Oh, the crying and the tears he was miserable.  But then he calmed down some and ate his ice cream in the car.  Husband and I couldn't decide what to do.  We bickered about it.  Just go home or do we carry on?  We opted to carry on.  We got to the store.  It was insanely crowded.  I went to get the lay-away.  He took the boys to look around.  I texted my mom with an update and got the gifts into the car quickly.

Upon coming back into the store I came across the rest of my family.  TT had spotted a Mickey Mouse train-set.  Does it get any better in his eyes?  I think not.  Where we buying this train?  I think not.  And so the water works and the tears ensued; again.  He screamed.  He flailed around.  Green snot was pouring from him nose.  He was red in the face and sweating.

I tried to save my day out with the family.  I walked Teddy and walked him some more; hoping he would fall asleep.  We offered him more food and more walking.  But there was no hope.  We needed to go home and he needed to go to bed.

I know in the grand scheme of things days like these don't matter.  I know we made the residents at the nursing home happy and I know my mom isn't upset about missing dinner and I know there will be more chances to see Santa.  But I still feel bad.  Like I could have controlled whether or not TT slept.  I think not.

And I am very grateful for my children, no matter how many meltdowns they have, no many how many plans are ruined.  I am thankful that they are alive and well and are able to ruin plans.  The tragedy in Connecticut yesterday really hit home for me, as it did with most of the nation.  I've hugged my boys longer and tighter since then.  I cannot fathom sending my boys off to school and never seeing them again.  My heart truly breaks for all of those affected.

A Story to Tell

My Christmas tree has a story to tell.  If you are willing to look.

Tonight we decorated the tree before the boys went to bed.  Mind you, I am not that on the ball; we had spent a better part of the weekend just getting the tree up and the lights put on.

As we are unpacking the ornaments RR squeals in delight "Look, here are all the ornaments I made!"  After we peel through a layer of paper and glitter and glue and puzzle pieces we uncover our "family" ornaments.

You see we've been collecting new ornaments year after year.  Ornaments that mean something.

Ornaments that tell a story.  The story of us.

In 2004 I got RR his first ornaments - Baby's 1st Christmas.  I think he has 3 of them.

The following year he made some ornaments in day-care and I have a photo frame one of him.  This was my first Christmas as a single mom, and yet I kept my ex's family ornaments. As I didn't see them as items to be discarded and tossed out along with the relationship, but rather building blocks to the family we are now; which includes members of my ex's family (Nana).  These are items that will leave the house along with RR when he is grown and ready for them.

In the years that followed I gathered yearly ornaments for him. Ones he picked out; often in the image of his most current obsession (cats, trucks, trains and what have you); all marked with his name and date.

When Husband entered the picture we expanded our annual ornament collection; adding a couples ornament and a family ornament; many times getting multiples of a particular theme as gifts.

We have ornaments that mark our first Christmas together, one marking our engagement, one marking our pregnancy with TT, ones proclaiming our wedding and first anniversary.

With the birth of TT we added his First Christmas ornament and our family ornament expanded from 3 to 4 people.

But our tree is more than my recent past.  My tree includes ornaments of mine from my youth.  Ones friends gave me as gifts in college.  Ones passed on to me from my mom; from 1993 and 1986 to name a few... gifts made by friends of the family or bought by my parents; with my name and the year proudly displayed.

I have an ornament I bought to mark my brother's passing and another bought to commemorate the passing of my step-father.  Reminders of loved ones that are not with us, but are certainly not forgotten.

I have ornaments that were my Grandmothers.  Some of which are too fragile and delicate to display with a one year old around; others to bias to a bygone era that are also stowed away.  Yet, there are many still, from them, worth hanging.

That's my Christmas tree.  It's the story of me and of my family.  I do wish I had ones from Husband's youth to display on it as well, but regardless I am glad to work on this tradition with him creating memories of our times together to pass along to our children.

So Easy

About a month ago I was at a Tupperware party and the consultant was showing off the shaker.

I own two of these.  They are (were) my least used piece of Tupperware.  I had bought them with the intent to use them to make pudding, but they just weren't big enough for that.  So under the pantry they sat, and sat some more.

But then that evening the consultant suggested making salad dressing in them.  I had never thought of this before.

Nor had I ever made salad dressing before.  But it was on my "to do some day list".

Fast forward a week or so and Husband and I are making dinner and he realizes he doesn't have any Italian salad dressing.  For most people this wouldn't be a big deal, but Husband eats two types of salad dressing - Italian and Cream Italian.

So I seize the moment and decide to break out the shaker and my computer - to look up a recipe silly - and proceed to whip up my first batch of Italian salad dressing.  Husband and I play with the recipe until we get it just as we like it.  Yum.  And incredibly easy.  So easy I am almost ashamed it took me so long to make this.

Tonight we expanded our culinary skills and whipped up the Creamy Italian dressing; again playing with it to make it our own.  And again it was super easy.  Why have I been spending money on salad dressing all these years?  Seriously, these are no brainer things to make.

Creamy Italian by Us

1/2 cup mayo
3 tablespoons cider vinegar
3 tablespoons milk
1 teaspoon Italian seasoning
1 teaspoon garlic powder
1/4 teaspoon salt
and a really big grind of pepper

Shake and enjoy.

Slowing Down

"On a scale of 1 to 10, how bad is the pain?"
"Listen doctor, I've experienced natural child birth; that's a 10.  Don't get me wrong this hurts, a lot.  But in comparison it's probably only a 5."

And with that the doctor recommended alternating Tylenol and Motrin and icing my separated nasal cavity every few hours.

What had started out as an idyllic Saturday morning; laying in bed with the boys and Husband.  Cuddling and snuggling, goofing around a little; had turned into TT crashing the back of his head into my nose and separating the cartilage from the bone.

We spent nearly 4 hours hours in the, normally very quiet, emergency room.  Clearly the ER's advertising on TV was paying off by the number of people they were seeing that morning.

But it could have been worse; and thankfully it wasn't.

We were due at my step-dad's Uncle's house for a family gathering later that afternoon.  Clearly I was in no shape to go.

And then the day got worse.  Details of which I will not go into now... but no one has passed and no one has been injured, no jobs have been lost. There are some things in life you dread, yesterday was one of those days.  But I will fight on.

In the meantime I am taking care of nose, and trying not to over do it (as I have a tendency to do).  I am resting, icing my nose, playing with the boys (although I will admit I am a little nervous when TT is around my face), making banana bread and taking cat naps.

Tomorrow is Monday.  Tomorrow is a new day.  Tomorrow I start aggressively looking for help.  In the meantime... resting up and being thankful for my family.

Sleep Glorious Sleep

I don't require much sleep, an average amount I suppose.  Around 7 hours.  But it needs to be an unbroken sleep.

Unbroken sleep had been a pipe dream recently.  Monkey has been teething.  Four at a time kind of teething.  Four in a months time, kind of teething.  The type of teething that makes he grouchy during the day; and brings on restless sleep at night.  You get the idea.  Obviously a solid nights sleep is something I hadn't seen in many moons.

Until last night.  And it was heavenly!!!

I woke on my own accord, shortly before my alarm went off.  I thought about getting up and charging into his room to see if he was still breathing.  (Don't all moms do this?)  But I decided against it, and snuggled up to Husband pondering my very strange.

In my dream I was married to Husband, and we were hanging out at the childhood home.  All of my brother's were still alive and my parents we not divorced.  And while we were there Ben Affleck was hanging around.  He had a crush on me.  And when I wasn't running away from Ben I was talking breastfeeding with Jennifer Garner.  I gotta tell ya, I am NOT a Ben Affleck fan.  He is so not my style.  I'm more a Vince Vaughn kinda gal.  It was a very strange dream.  But at least it was a dream.  During my 7 hours of unbroken sleep.

In case your wondering I ended up waking Monkey at 6:40 to nurse him.  I was ready to explode and had to get a move on it as well before I was late for work.  Too bad things like this, his sleeping in that is, don't happen on the weekend.

Cookies

I was suppose to make Husband chocolate chip cookies for Father's Day.  But then I had the whole fruit basket incident and ended up making banana bread that day.

This weekend I decided to hold true to my promise and made him some cookies.  Normally I turn to my Betty Crocker Big Red Cookbook for recipes, but I wanted something "better" than that. I had tried the recipe in The Joy of Cooking, but I wasn't a fan of that one.  I knew Husband wanted soft and chewy cookies, and I knew the recipe for "the chewy" from Alton Brown had flopped on me over the holidays; so I turned to the internet.  I Googled "Mrs. Field's Chocolate Chip Cookie Recipe" (because after all that Mrs. Field's makes some darn good soft and yummy cookies), and after about half a nano-second Google returned some 60,000 matches.

I read over a few and decided on this recipe.

Wow!!!  Are these cookies good.  Husband has dubbed them "the husband pleaser".  I had made a double batch and sent some to a party with Turkey.  My cookies were a huge hit.  I got so many compliments from the other moms.  (Pleasing your husband is one thing, but having other mom's envy your domestic ability is another.)  I don't think I will ever make another chocolate chip cookie recipe again.

Water Bed

The other night I wasn't feeling so well, so I filled my water bottle and took it to bed with me.

No, not that kind of water bottle.

The hot water bottle kind; like your grandmother would have had.

I tossed and I turned and I eventually fell asleep with my water bottle close against me.

Fast forward to around 1am.  I wake up soaking wet.  Like I had taken a bath in my PJs.  The sheets were wet, the mattress with wet.  Everything was wet.  Apparently my hot water bottle strung a leak.  All over me and the bed.

Thankfully we have a king size bed, so Husband was spared the mess.

Un-thankfully, Husband was sleeping with his friend Ambien, so he was of little help cleaning up the mess. (But in his defense he did clean up the mess of my mess then next day.)

So I stumble around, get changed, move the flat sheet and put a towel on top of the fitted sheet, and try to get comfy.  Only to realize the mattress is so wet I can feel it through the towel... four bath towels piled up later I finally drift off to sleep... who knew a hot water bottle held so much liquid?  Who knew I was ushc a deep sleeper at time?

Chilling Out

I've spent my entire life living in the north east.  When I was growing up we didn't have a single air conditioner in the whole house.  Now mind you the weather up here can be a little fickle and unpredictable; and extreme.  Winter weather can feature feet and feet of snow at temperatures well below freezing and summers days can easily break 90 with 99% humidity.  So the "no air conditioner" thing could really make sleeping during the summer months unbearable.  I can recall laying in my bed, too hot to sleep with the fan just inches from my head.

Then I went away to college and my dorm room had AC.  It was wonderful.

Back home after that there was no AC.  Nor did I have AC in my room when I lived with my friend K.

But then I got my own apartment and that had AC.  And again summers were wonderful.

After that I moved into a 2-family house with my mom, and was again without AC.  Until Husband moved in.  He insisted on AC in the summer.  Said he couldn't live without it.  I've had AC in my bedroom ever since.

Over the years we upgraded Turkey to have an AC as well, and now we're looking at getting one for Monkey (he slept in our room all last summer).

I would like to think I didn't "need" AC.  That I'v survived our summers this long without needing AC, but I know now that is not true.  I am sure I wouldn't actually parish without, but I would be a lot grouchier from the lack if sleep.

Lately we've had a bit of a warm snap.  Temps yesterday were in the 90s with gruelingly humidity.  Husband wanted to get the AC out of the attic and installed in our room.  But I wasn't sure I was ready.  I kept telling him it's going to rain and temps will fall back to the 70s.  You see we like to try and hold off on these things (turning on the heat in the winter and holding off on the AC in the summer) as long as possible.  It's like a game we play.  However after we got home from the store, and I walked into our room  - which is like an oven and always the warmest room in the house - I knew it was time and didn't argue when Husband went to install it.

That being said last night was one of the best nights of sleep I've had in nearly a week.  Aside from the 1am poopy-diaper incident it was perfect.  All thanks to Husband and the AC.

Sure I felt guilty about the boys not having their ACs, but I managed growing up without one... and the rain and thunderstorms did come, and they did cool things off quite a bit. So maybe we should have held out another night... nah...

Lost and Found (twice)

When we got married, our weddings rings were tied to a little white pillow.  It had our names and wedding date embroidered on it, in cornflower blue, by my Godmother.  We, my bridesmaids, the flower-girl, the ring bearer (Turkey) and myself were early to the wedding so everyone, but me got out and stretched with the kids running around the gardens.  (We got married in a little chapel in a park's garden.)  While the kids were running around Husband's ring fell off the pillow.

The wedding party searched and searched for his ring while doing their best to keep me and Husband clueless. But watching the commotion outside (I was sitting in the limo) I knew something was up.  We had thought all was lost - everyone from all the groomsmen to the florist were looking for the ring.  My soon to be brother in law was even going to lend Husband his wedding band for the ceremony.

Then my cousin found it.  I remember her picking it up and holding it over her head screaming "YES".  My dad tied the rings back onto the pillow as tight as he could.  Turkey was heartbroken he had lost the ring and was crying; and it took a lot of coaxing to get him to walk down the isle.

For the next two years and some odd days Husband's ring sat securely on his ring finger.  Some days it would get stuck, with the ways his hand's swell from the fibromylgia.

Then this weekend, as I was driving along he looked down at his hand and realized his ring was not there.  You could see the ring imprint in his skin.  He started to panic, searching the car for it.  So I pulled over and he searched some more.  He looked at the camera, at the pictures we had taken some ten minutes before at the ice cream place we stopped; and his ring was on his finger.

So I turned the car around and we went to look for it.  Husband recalled his actions as we had left the ice cream place, over and over again and we decided it just had to be in the gravel driveway. We raced back and screeched into the parking lot.  Another car was parked in our old spot and we prayed his ring was easy to find.  He started searching the lot, while I rechecked the car and then we traded.  Just as I rounded the minivan that was in our old spot I saw something glistening in the late afternoon early summer sun... and there it was!!  Husband's ring.  Found again.  Thankfully.

US and Maternity Leave

I'm sure you've seen it; the cover of the Time Magazine that came out last week.

The cover went viral and was all over the internet; and being discussed in just about every mom-forum I am in.

I've said my mind about the cover; and I'm not going to get into that here.  Really, it is over and done with, and plenty of puns and "responses" to Time have been posted since this first came out.

What I'm writing about today is a call to action in regards to what is really wrong with being a US citizen and a mom.  I read this fantastic article on Moms in Maine entitled: Wake Up Moms - You're Fighting the Wrong Fight; and I couldn't agree more.   Go on read it now... I'll wait....

I have signed the petition and I urge you to do the same (if you agree) and to pass on link of the petition to your friends, family and co-workers.  I plan on writing a letter to my Congressman and Representative as well (as soon as I find the time).  Lastly, while you are at it, I recommend checking out Mom's Rising - and their call to work on improving the maternity leave situation in the US.

This isn't a "women's issue", this is a US family issue - this is something that affects us, as a nation, to the core.  It affects the entire family unit; men, women and children.  The issue isn't whether or not women should work once they have children, but rather supporting women IN their work.  I feel that my breastfeeding relationship with the baby was helped because of my employer and their maternity leave policy; which greatly improved from the Big Boy to the Baby (12 weeks versus 6 weeks, plus working from home part-time).

Having a child isn't a disability, and it is sad that many companies cover maternity leave as a disability.  This is a life changing event, and should be treated as such.  If every other industrialized nation can find a way to support women (and men alike, many countries offer paternity leave) I should think the US should be able to as well.  So let's lend our voices to this conversation and let our representatives in government know maternity leave is a right for ourselves, our wives, our sisters, and our daughters.

Doing It All Over Again

As we get closer and closer to Turkey's First Communion I am starting to feel very melancholy.  This is a big step for him; several years in the making.  I look at him, and I look at the baby and think about what he was like; seven years ago when he was Monkey's age.  I'm looking back at pictures of him over the last eight years; and I am amazed by how much he's grown; physically, mentally and spiritually.

All of the thinking aside we've been busy preparing for his big day. He has had a few rehearsals, he has a few more to attend to as well.  He got a new hair cut, we bought his special clothes, and we got his photos done.  We've been planning a party for him, and so on and so on.

And then I think, we get to do this all again in another seven years.

Seven years.  The age gap between the two boys.

Wow, seven years.

Don't get me wrong I wouldn't change a thing about the boys and their age gap.  It certainly has it's up sides; like only having to diaper one child at a time.  ;-)

And then I start thinking about where I might be in seven years.  By then I will be in my early 40s.  When my mom was in her early 40s, I was in my early 20s.  Then I think, when Monkey is in his early 20s; I'll be in my mid-50s, the age my mom is now.

I like the idea of being able to "doing it all again", seven years from now.  I like wondering where we'll all be in seven years.  What kind of eight year old will the baby be?  What kind of teenager will Turkey be?  What will Husband and I be doing for work and hobbies?  What kind of relationship will my boys have with each, and any other siblings that may come there way?

That's the good thing about the future, it's full of possibilities.

The Inevitable

Last night as we were heading off to bed I told Husband the inevitable was going to happen; Monkey was going to want to sleep in tomorrow morning.  After all, it was Monday; I had to get up to go to work and he was up with the sun over the weekend.

5:30 comes this morning and he's starting to cry in bed.  I slip into his room and we have a quick (and efficient nursing session) and he's down for the count again.  I try and go back to bed, but it's no use; and before I know it it's time to get up and get ready to go to work.

Meanwhile he slept until 7:30; when Husband woke him up.

Lucky little kid.

Health Update

If you know us, or if you’ve been following this blog for a while you know of Husband’s struggles with his hands and joints over the last year plus. 

He’s been to doctor after doctor, various specialists and has had more tests run than either of us care to think about.  He has been told he possibly has this, and he possibly has that; and has tried and been unsuccessful at more treatment plans than we care to think about.

Every day is a struggle.  For him, and for us as a family; as we never know what type of pain he’ll be in each day.   Some days are better than others; as it is to be expected and we try and go with the flow.  If we have projects that require a significant amount of physical labor from him; we plan in advance to try to make the days lead up and following as “light” on him as possible.

Husband hates this.  This journey has taken its toll on him emotionally as well.  Some days he feels he’s not the father and partner he could or should be because of his illness.  But we try and re-assure him that he’s doing all he can and taking care of himself so he’s here for us in the long run is important. 

He often has sleepless nights, which seem to compound everything.  This is one of symptoms of his condition. 

Recently we were told he has Fibromyalgia.  The joint pains, the back pains, the sleepless nights and the depression are all part of it. 

But he isn’t receiving any medical treatment for it right now.  At his last doctor visit the doctors played a game of “pass the buck” in regards to his care.  Then when his primary realized he was in the wrong and asked him to come back first thing in the morning to go over treatment, we had to decline.  You see Husband often can’t drive because of this condition being untreated; and I couldn’t take more time off of work suddenly to take him.  I feel guilty about this, but it is what it is and now we’re nearing the date of his next appointment, in which care and management will be reviewed. 

In the meantime we’ve been reading up and studying Fibromyalgia.  We understand getting this condition under control is going to take a life style change, but it’s one of lower stress that we embrace. 

While we are not happy that this has happened to Husband, we accept its part of our life; and we’ve developed routines and plans in dealing with this.  We are happy to be moving forward and look forward to embracing the day he is able to go into remission, but are prepared for a future of flair-ups.

We ask our family and friends to patience, strength and understanding as we deal with this challenge in our own way.  Not visiting with you, or being able to make plans, or assist you in moving, lifting, cleaning etc; has nothing to do with you and it is not for a lack of want. You know how Husband is; he wants to be there for everyone and to help anyone he can in any way that he can.  If we could we would be out there more, doing more things with our friends and family; but right now we need to take care of us; and this means spending more time in our home taking care of each other.  

Not So Silent Saturday

This is one of my favorite pictures of the big boy.

It was taken April 3, 2005.  A little over 7 years ago now.  I took this picture to capture him just as he was at this time.  He was just starting to walk and took his blanket (coon-coon he called it) every where with him.  The picture sits in a two sided frame; with his hand print on the other side of the frame.  I bought the frame while wandering the craft store; shortly after my ex left me - better yet us.  I saw the frame kit and felt the need to put together this snapshot of who he was when his life changed forever.  

A lot has happened in the last 7 years - new home, new husband, new baby.

The room in which the above picture was taken is in the apartment I had in the house my mom and I had (she lived on the top floor, we lived on the bottom floor).  Four years after this picture was taken my youngest brother would pass away in this apartment.  I've been back in there once since then, and don't plan on every going back.

I wish I had the outfit now that he's wearing in that picture.  It's a darling outfit and would look great on the baby.

The blanket was lost on one of the first vacations we went on with Husband.  A replacement was bought on that trip, but it didn't have the same affect.  The boy still loves his blankets however.

He's seen his biological father for about 15 minutes in the last 7 years.  And he's taken lately to referring to Husband as "daddy" instead of "papa".  Although, he does still call him by his first name - but that's because their nicknames rhythm.

Daddy's Gift

My husband has a gift.

Ok, he has many gifts (I can tell you he's blushing this now while reading this), but the gift I am talking about is his baby soothing gift.

Monkey isn't that baby that will fall asleep anywhere when he's over tired, he is a creature of habit and requires his crib or Daddy to sleep.  He also missed that memo that breastfed babies are suppose to fall asleep at the breast when they are full and content, instead he'd rather play when he's done.

4:30am this morning was a prime example.  After he ate he was ready to get up for the day.  That was so not happening.  So I called in the Big Guns, aka Husband.  When this happens we call it "patting the baby down", and we use this technique any time Monkey is fighting sleep.

To do this Husband tucks Monkey into one arm and pats his butt, firmly and rythmetically. (Hey, it's got to be firm to be felt through all those layers of butt fluff.)  Sometimes Monkey will protest cry for a few minutes, sometimes not at all.  Sometimes he falls right out, sometimes he fights it for nearly 30 minutes; but Husband is diligent and despite his hand condition pushes on.  Husband can get him to sleep this way in church in the Beco, sitting on the rocking chair or laying on the couch.  Monkey is no match for Daddy's Gift.

Other babies have fallen victim to this gift as well; and the look of amazement by other parents in always amazing.  Husband likes to say it's his version of Dr. Harvey Karp's Happiest Baby on the Block.  But no matter what you call it, it is a gift... and for that I am thankful.  (Now if only I could learn to fall back asleep at 4:30am as well.)

Party Like A 1 Year Old!!!

On Sunday we celebrated Monkey's first birthday with family and friends.  Unlike Turkey's birthday this year we only did a loose Monkey theme (go figure).

I made him a birthday banner that proclaimed that he was 1.

I made him a double layer (chocolate and yellow) cake with butter-cream frosting, and cupcakes for the guests.  

We had lots of yummy food (and we're still eating left-overs), and many thanks to my Mom, cousin, and Add-emm, for bringing more goodies.  

I had made a video with photos of Monkey from over the first year and we had that playing during the party as a background.  

So we ate, passed around the baby, passed around my cousin's tiny baby, and ate and talked some more.  After eating Monkey opened his gifts.  He got tons of great toys (including a stuffed monkey from Disney) and lots of clothes (because he's a giant and needs them... he's in 18 to 24 months size).  Turkey was his man-in-waiting, and read all of his cards and "helped" him open his gifts.  

After present it was cake time (because after that we needed a bath).  Monkey loves food (I've mentioned that before right??)  Well he really loves cake.

It was a wonderful day... but I just wish I had more time to spend with everyone. 

 Happy Birthday Little Man!!!

Oh yeah, and the real key to having a killer party... having your husband, brother and baby's Godfather clean-up the mess.  These guys ROCK!!!