Lou turns 5!

I will never get over how fast time goes by. 

My Lou is such a joy to our family.  She is insanely brilliant. I am outsmarted by her nearly every day, and she knows it.  She thinks very much outside of the box often coming to conclusions or observations that far exceed her age.  This adds a whole new twist of fun to raising her. I never know what she may say or what new idea has come into her mind, and I'm always astounded by what she has to say.

She is very excited to start Kindergarten.  She loves the color pink, dressing up, wearing my jewelry and high heels and when she steals it fast enough, my lip gloss.  She always says "When I'm a mommy I can't wait to wear _______ (pretty shoes, necklaces, earings, headbands, anything)."

Lou is so very sweet.  She will often tell me how beautiful I look on days I seem to need to hear it most. She is so loving. She is nice to Tater-tot.  She always helps him whether he likes it or not.  She loves to clean! She will often get out my broom and sweep the kitchen floor, or mop it.  She often gets a rag and starts dusting  She can clean her own room better and faster than I can clean my own---yes, she is for hire!  She is going to make one excellent babysitter. I have never seen such a motherly (read: bossy in a very maternal way) child before.  She loves to have her pictures taken and turns vogue when the camera is on, as you can see below. How cute is she?

Lou was very sad to hear about the loss of our angel baby, but she says that she is happy we will get to see her (yes, her) again in Heaven.  She said the next baby that comes, she will be happy no matter whether it is a boy or girl, she just can't wait for a new baby.  

Lou wanted to get her ears pierced for her birthday. I was a little hesitant and she was just as insistent. We took her in and she did excellent.  She got Hello Kitty earings and loves them.  Pictures to come soon. I have finally accepted that me and cooking in the kitchen rarely turns out well, so I have happily delegated the duty of cakes to my friend April Blakeley who owns Cake Appeal. She does excellent, and the cakes are YUMMY! And the best yet, I no longer stress about it. 

Luckily April took a picture before I did.  Tater-tot snuck in and gnawed on one of the sugar cone towers. It looked like a mouse got to it. It happens every cake she does for me. I bring it home and before I get a picture of it, something happens to it.  Just my luck I guess! :-)  

Many have asked about her SM.  She has made major headway the last few months, speaking now to strangers at the store or neighbors walking by.  She has even begun to speak to friends parents who have never heard her mutter a word until recently.  I am hoping that the progress continues.  It seems she has already "labeled" school and church as places she is unable to speak as those areas still haven't seen much progress.  We pray for her every night and to know how to help her best. We make our mistakes, but we are so proud of how well she is doing, and she is proud of herself too.

I love my Lou! (She'd hate it if she knew that's what I was calling her!).  She's going to give me all my grey hair, I am certain.  But I wouldn't have it any other way.  I can't even begin to imagine my life without her smile, her laugh, her loves, and her presence! She keeps us on our toes, and I love her for that.

Tender Mercies

It seems so weird to be writing another post! I feel so on top of things! :-)

On Monday we headed in for the doctor's appointment. I had talked with some friend who had recently had D&C's done to get an idea of how much it would cost us.  Most of my friends--who had all gone to the same surgical center (which was not the place I would be going to) were estimating it to be around $1200.00; so that's kind of where I was estimating the price to be.  So you can imagine my surprise when I spoke to the surgical unit I was going to, quoted me at over $3000.00...and that was including a discount! I was pretty sick over it. It was enough to make me again consider just backing out of the whole thing, and bearing through the pain. But supportive family members encouraged me to at least go see the doctor.

I have to be honest, I was really frustrated on the way to the doctor.  DH and I have been denied on insurance application after application (I hate you Diabetes).  We have always tried to be financially responsible.  I can't lie, I was starting to feel abandoned by God a little bit.  The stress of losing this baby was enough, did we really need to go through the financial burden also??  I believe my Savior heard that thought, because without a doubt, he sure seemed to step in and show that he had far from abandoned us.  .

Within minutes of having the thoughts I had just mentioned, I got a text (with impeccable timing I might add) from a dear friend who mentioned a friend of hers with no insurance had a D&C at the same surgical unit my other friends had and only paid $600 or so.  So Brandon got on the phone with them right away.  I was skeptical, because my doctor did not work in that facility, and I doubted he would be willing to go up there.  But DH called and talked to a lady who quoted us only $800, which would be definitely much more doable than $3,000+.  When she asked who my doctor was and DH replied, I knew what was coming next.  She replied, "Well, he doesn't come to our facility, and we can only really go there if your a patient of those doctors." But she went on saying she thinks she can help us. Turns out, this lady was not only familiar with my doctor, but used to be his office manager. And it also turns out that he absolutely adored her.  She offered to call my doctor's office for us and talk to him and see if she could convince him to come up, realizing that it would be a difference to us of more than $2200.  She was so nice, and I could tell she really wanted to help us, which was a relief we desperately needed.

After waiting a long time for the doctor he finally came in.  He asked what we wanted to do and we asked him if he'd be willing to go to this other surgical unit instead.  He was very supportive of this and agreed.  We started discussing how I was feeling and he didn't feel I had an infection, which was a big relief to everyone.  He did a quick ultrasound and ensured the baby still hadn't passed (which I already knew).  When we went out, we were making plans to schedule the D&C the next day for the other surgical center.  My doctor started to realize that, for a few different reasons, this wasn't going to work out as well for him, but would glady send my charts over to their doctors so they could do it.  Truly, it was a Godsend to be able to drop the bill by that much.  We walked out of the office feeling much lighter than when we walked in.

While I was in the office, I started cramping much worse.  My legs and feet no longer hurt, but my headache was still as prominent as ever.  I told Brandon that maybe we should try to schedule the D&C in 2 or 3 days, because I thought my body was finally going into labor.  Ultimately we decided to just keep it for the next day. When we walked to the car, the cramping was obviously turning into contractions.  I started to time them. I also wanted ice cream. (go figure).  So we stopped to get some.  By the time we had drove to the ice cream store, my contractions had gone from lasting 10 seconds every 6 minutes to lasting 25 seconds every 5 minutes.  I was definitely heading into labor. I had to laugh at the irony of it all. And I wasn't even able to eat the ice cream I so dearly wanted just minutes earlier. :-(

Sure enough, within just an hour or less of being home, I started to labor the miscarriage.  I won't tell you it wasn't painful, because it most definitely was.  Because I had plan to deliver this baby naturally (because I wanted to, and because a epidural is $1500) I had learned a little, tiny bit about coping with labor. I had read about positions that helped labor ease the pain, and how you really need to not tense up during a contraction, but relax and let your body do what it was needing to do. At first it was really, really hard for me to not tense up when it was so awfully painful.  I do recall telling DH to never, ever let me consider this again and other ramblings of a woman in labor that I no longer remember and were probably completely incoherent.  But as time went on, I found I was able to better able to cope with the pain and the contractions. They were still incredibly painful, but it wasn't like the night before when I laid sobbing in my bed from the pain.  This pain had a purpose, and it also meant that I was going to be able to put this all behind me, and that gave me great comfort and strength.

The labor went on for about 3 hours.  DH was great through it all, and I don't know if I could've asked for more.  I would go from feeling like I was going to throw up, to feeling like I was going to pass out within the same second. One minute later I'd be freezing, then I'd be extremely hot.  He counted me through my contractions, and gave me a cold rag for my face. He brought me blankets and pillows to lay on in between contractions and put on a meditation CD he found to help me relax. I was incredibly grateful for it.  I am not sure when, but somewhere near the beginning shortly after a really terrible contraction ended, I realized my headache was gone. As I started to ponder it, I realized that it must have disappeared the minute the contractions started to become intense and hasn't been back since. 

Finally the miscarriage ended.  The cramping and bleeding slowly slowed down and become bearable again.  I got up and went and laid in my bed and I just couldn't believe how much better I felt.  It truly felt like the biggest weight had been lifted off my shoulders.  I had no more pain (other than the cramping).  I could walk fine, my toes and legs no longer ached and most appreciative of all, was that my headache was gone.  I have never been so relieved to be rid of a headache.

The next day we headed in for our appointment for the D&C.  Since I had passed the baby naturally, they did an ultrasound first to see how things were looking.  I still had a some tissue that they figured would just be best to get out and be done with it.  The surgery went great and I came out feeling good.  There was still a sadness as the realization that my baby was now officially gone, but being able to finally feel so well physically helped cope with that sense of loss.  I came home and took a short nap and woke up feeling 1,000 times better than I had felt just 5 days earlier.  In fact, I felt better than I had in 3 months.  It was good to feel like me again.

A few conferences back, Elder Bednard, an apostle of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints gave a beautiful talk on The Tender Mercies of the Lord. Today, my day was filled with not just one tender mercy, but so very many:

• The text message I got from a friend that morning that prompted us to look for other avenues that would ease the financial burden on our back by so much
• How the office manager that answered the phone at the new surgical center had such a great relationship with my doctor, without that 'in' I'm not sure we would've been able to transfer so easily
• The ability I had to finally actually go into labor, that I was able to do it naturally like I had planned too, and that it did bring about so much healing emotionally and physically
• To finally be rid of the headache!! I think the Lord truly knew that I was not going to be able to endure labor AND that evil headache and that it instantly disappeared when I needed it to go the most
•  The incredibly helpful babysitters who were there to help us through the whole day so that Brandon could be with me and support me
• The friends who brought dinner and gifts
• And so many others I hold sacred.

 This scripture kept coming to my head all day:

Mosiah 24:14 "...And this will I do, that you may stand as witnesses for me hereafter, and that ye may know of a surety, that I, the Lord God, do visit my people in their afflictions."

This hasn't been the easiest trial to go through.  The pain is still there and I'm sure there will still be tears and heartache, but the lessons I learned have been valuable and I feel that I definitely needed to have them.  I just want to say thank you again to everyone who has been there for me through this whole thing.  Your friendship, prayers, love and support has helped push me through and for that I am very grateful.

I am not a morning person...

but I find myself more and more often up at 5:00am listening to the birds outside talk away. I wonder what they're saying. I feel bad for the one little bird who distinctively has a different song than the others, that he continually sings but no one else seems to reply (at least not in his song) Do you think they are ignoring him? I feel bad for the little guy.

I admit it, I'm an over analytic person.  It's just who I am.

Here is the latest update.  I'm not one for blogging more personal areas of my life, but I have found that it greatly helps, so I figure I'd give it a go.  The baby still has not passed my body.  It has been a really rough 11 days, I won't sugar coat it.  For starters, I didn't really know what I was up against with a natural miscarriage.  No one really said anything, other than it can take 'a while' (did I also mention I am detailed oriented person? I need specifics!).  What did 'awhile' mean? How much blood would I expect to lose? I already knew it would be painful, just like labor because that's exactly what I'm going through.  I am by no means and "sit-around-and-wonder-when" sort of person either. I can sit around and wait, sure--as long as I know how long I'm waiting for.

As I mentioned before, we don't have insurance and everything I have decided has really been based on trying to be financially responsible.  I was taught to only buy and get things that you can afford and can pay for.  So I was determined to do everything I could to keep the costs as low as possible. The doctor called me Tuesday night and really pushed a D&C.  Maybe he had his reasons, but I felt like is it was just 'more convient' for him.  I told him if he could pay for it, I would gladly get it.  That ended that conversation.  I needed to go in to the doctor's office the next day and get my Rogham shot (I have the Rh factor).  The last thing I wanted to do was go back into that office.  For one, let me tell you a little bit about Dale.  Dale was the midwife who delivered both my babies.  I care not what anyone says, but Dale will simply go down as the best midwife that has ever walked this Earth, and that is no exaggeration, at least in my opinion.  In fact, he was so awesome with both babies, he took pictures like these right after delivery, before anyone else came in and Brandon and I were still soaking up the joy of our newborn babes. The value of these moments is written on our faces:

 My favorite: Only minutes old and smiling at Daddy.

Just a sidenote: I'm a photographer. I have thousands of pictures I love. But these, I cherish. I cherish dearly. He caught such an amazing moment I will never get back. Yep, he's the bestest. And bonus, he also had me laughing during labor. Yep. Laughing, during pushing actually.  Who can do that?! The meds?? Wellll...maybe, but submit it was not! He was just that great! Anyhoo, sorry sidetracked again.

Well Dale up and moved himself to Alaska and no amount of begging from me was going to change his mind.  I vowed that I would not have anymore babies until he returned, but obviously, that was a bit unreasonable.  As stupid as it sounds; I missed Dale. I just felt like if I could be working with him through this miscarriage, it would make everything better.  I didn't want to go into that office because it was a reminder that Dale wasn't there, it was a reminder that my baby was gone while I was surrounded by other excited pregnant ladies, it was a reminder of financial distress.  Since Dale was so unbelievable awesome, he didn't just takes pictures above for me, he did it for everyone.  His pictures, of many different families still hang throughout the facility. Everything was simply a reminder of what I didn't want to remember.

I had a mini-minor breakdown at the office and was happy to be leave and cry in my car.  The doctor also prescribe some methotrexate which was to help my uterus start contracting.  Ever since the day I was able to confirm the miscarriage, my lower back all the way down to my toes were killing me.  It was as if I had an insanely hard workout I neither was neither ready for or prepared for. But instead of easing up as time went on, it got worse and worse.  The pain was nearly unbearable, and I started to take what few pain pills I had (meant for the miscarriage) to just be able to cope with my back. Meanwhile, the miscarriage was moving along extra slowly.  I was not really contracting much nor was I bleeding much.  After finishing my does of the methotrexate, I still was not progressing at all.  On Saturday I woke up to slightly worsening cramps, and I prepared myself. "It would happen today" I told myself.  In reality, I was more than ready to let go of this baby.  As terrible as that sounds, it was so hard to try to move on when it wasn't finished.  My uterus was starting to grow more and I sadly said to Brandon, "I look pregnant, I feel pregnant, I am pregnant....just with a dead baby."  It has just been extremely hard.

Though the cramps eased on Saturday, it was far from a horrible day.  In addition to the severe lower back pain I was feeling, I also developed a insanely bad headache.  I'm not really new to headaches. I get a migraine at least twice a month, and I often go for days on end with headaches.  But this headache has been wicked. The worst I have ever had in my history of headaches.  I literally feel like someone is taking a hatchet to my skull, while someone else is trying to push my brain out from the bottom.  If I was having an aneurysm in my brain, I would not be surprised at all.  The aches in my legs and back made me literally unable to walk and the headache was in and of itself so painful.  I was definitely experiencing pain worse than labor---I was just most definitely not  in labor.

I collapsed in my bed in pain like nothing I have ever experienced before. I was on pain meds, and though they would help the back and leg pain, they did not touch the headache.  It hurt to move, it hurt to turn my head, heck it hurt to talk.  I told Brandon that I needed a Priesthood blessing and I needed it now.  Brandon called our dear bishop who came over right away.  This is a bit a of big step for me as I'm not one to call on others for help (particularly non-family members) but I was so desperate.  I wasn't even able to get out of bed and so they did the blessing right then and there in my bedroom (thankfully it was clean!).  A priesthood blessing is the laying on of hands, and two worthy priesthood holders lay their hands on your head and give you a blessing of healing and comfort.  As they did so, my head throbbed and I sobbed and sobbed, barely able to hear much of the blessing.

The pain killers eventually kicked in for my aches, but the headache remained just as strong and I got very little sleep (which is why I am awake now as well). I spent the entire day in bed, getting up only once to go to the bathroom.  The pain was so intense I couldn't even consider eating (consider eating while in labor---its just not on the radar). I stayed on top of the pain meds religiously, but they were starting to lose their effect it seemed.  I finally got a hold of the doctor who called me back around 6:30pm.  He's kinda vague (remember that part about me being a detailed-person? Ya...we kinda clash).  Long story short, I was not to eat or drink anything past 4 AM and to come into the office around 9:00 and hopefully I can get into surgery around noon for a D&C.  I asked him how much it was going to cost, but he didn't know and advised me to all the surgical center (who is closed of course).  I tried to go online and find out how much a D&C costs, which, as I figured wasn't to helpful. Some people mentioned anywhere from $500-15,000.  That's just a bit of a jump.  Meanwhile, my sister-in-law, who also suffers from bad headaches, gave me some medicine that helps her headaches. I took it like it was candy--in addition to the pain killers I was already on. Surprisingly and sadly enough, it also gave no help and my head continue to throb.

I had already accepted a D&C was necessary.  I tried everything: prayer, meditation, medication. I tried to tell my body that it was okay to let go of the baby and that it was time.  When cramps happened, I welcomed them, focusing on the task at hand rather than the pain. But in the end, it did nothing to help speed up the process and my body was in no hurry to let it go.  I am not really sure if my back and leg pain and headache are associated with the miscarriage, but I just know I can't go on for days and days like this.  I just can't.

Here's where it gets sappy, and maybe a little pathetic and unreasonable, but hey--it helps me.  Although I accepted the D&C, all the sudden I felt an overwhelming degree of sadness.  I had planned on getting some closure from the natural miscarriage.  I wanted to be able to see my baby.  I'm in a line of work where I see many fetus', sometimes as young as mine, so I felt prepared for what I'd see and felt comfortable with it. I guess I wanted to tell it goodbye and that I was sorry.  I know this miscarriage wasn't my fault, but I complained so much about being sick, and I say this with hoping nobody will judge me, but it is sometimes really hard to be excited for something when you are so sick.  Please don't misunderstand, I was excited about the baby and it was definitely wanted, but when you are unable to do anything for weeks on end, it can be hard at times to be remember the joy.   I feel like the short time I had with this baby, I spent it negatively, and I am ridden with guilt because of it. I wanted to let this baby know that even though I didn't seem very happy during my time with it, it was definitely wanted and that I still grieve everyday that I won't get to have it.  Having the doctor take this baby out while I'm unconscious, when I had already planned on the natural miscarriage.. .all the sudden things seems so unfair and I want to back out.  But my splitting headache and cramping reminds me that I have two kids and a husband who need me to get better, and that this is what I need to do.  And hey, now that I've rambled on forever, I continue to have a fever. Which is never a good sign. What the heck? I think the probability of getting an infection during a natural miscarriage is like .001%.  Combine that with the fact that methotrexate works on 85% of its patients and I think I just simply must be a one in a million kind-of-gal. 

So there you have it---if you are still around reading, I know that was nearly considered a novel.  I will keep you posted on what the day will bring.  If I could only be rid of this headache, everything would look brighter.

Loss

Well, what can I say. Sometimes sad things happen.

On Thursday (May 12th) I started bleeding.  I had been very lightly spotting a few days before, light enough that I wasn't very sure if it was even blood.  I called and talked to a midwife that afternoon who calmed some fears, mentioning that most women stop feeling sick if they miscarry (I was still brutally sick) and some women even bleed throughout a pregnancy and they aren't sure why, but all seems to be okay.  She just advised that unless the bleeding was joined with cramping, I shouldn't worry to much until my next appointment when I could get checked out.  It seemed the minute I hung up the phone, I started lightly cramping.  I kinda worried, but was sure that it was just me and I was paranoid and making myself think I was cramping.  But as the day advanced, it seemed that the cramping slightly got worse.

I got home a little late that evening after a meeting.  I had spent most of the day contemplating a miscarrige, and dealing with the emotions of it.  Looking back, I feel the Spirit was slowly helping me prepare for the truth.  I came home and found that I was bleeding heavier and most definitely cramping.  I called the midwife back and she prepared me for what the experience of miscarriage was going to be like and what to be watching for.  I got off the phone with her and started to cry.  DH came in shortly after and together we cried over losing our little, precious baby.

The next day I called the doctor's office, who encouraged an ultrasound.  Despite our best efforts, we still have no insurance (I think we may go down in history as having the most declines for insurance in a one year period--but that's another rant for another day. Sorry. I get distracted).  I was struggling so much with whether or not to go in for an ultrasound.  I knew I hadn't yet miscarried, and I silently hoped that maybe something was just wrong, but the baby was still alive.  But I also feared going in and seeing an ultrasound that confirmed what I didn't want to accept.  After struggling with the decision for awhile, I finally made the appointment. 

The day was so long, and I couldn't wait to just be able to go in and know for sure.  My mom and I went in to find the results.  Finally it was time for the appointment and the ultrasound.  Immediately I saw our little baby on the screen, and immediately I saw the absence of that tiny, rapid, perfect heartbeat I had seen just weeks before.  I swallowed back the hurt and pain and sat up, determined to not lose it in the office.  The doctor gave us a few options of what to do next, and I decided a natural miscarriage would be the best way to go considering everything. 

It has been a week since I learned my little babe was gone.  The miscarriage still hasn't been completed, and it has been hard to not be able to officially put it behind me. There have been moments when for the smallest instant I forget I am no longer expecting and I plan something trivial for the baby, only to remember that there is no baby coming.  I have cried.  I have lost sleep.  I have had guilt.  I have wondered and considered the 'what if's' and the 'why's'.  I have felt sorrow and pain.  But, I have also felt peace.  I have felt love and I have felt comfort.  I have also felt the prayers of so many people who love us.  I have found comfort in my beliefs that God has a plan for every single one of us, and everything that happens in this life is done in His wisdom and His love.  I truly believe that the trials we have in life are able to give us a chance to better see God in our lives and his love for each of us.

I want to take a few moments to thank the many people who have offered their sympathies and have been keeping us in their prayers. I have truly felt them.  Thank you for those who brought dinner, flowers, made phone calls, and just kept us in their thoughts.  We are surounded by such wonderful people, and we are so grateful for it.

Sooo..there you have it.  I am not one who likes to cry or read sad things, but hey, they happen right?  But you can find humor in anything.  Mine is usually found in my children, like when Lou, seeing me start crying again stated: "Mom, where do all those tears come from? I didn't see you drink that much water!'  or how she told us that we just need to start saving our money again so we can go buy a new baby at the store. Yep. There is joy in all things too. :-)

Oh and by the way---the coke addict is back.  Short and sweet I guess eh?

Found a Peanut

Hello world.

I know it's been awhile, but if I have a good excuse, is that okay? 

Just a few days after DH (that's Dear Husband, for those who are wondering) celebrated our 6th year anniversary, we also found out that we are expecting yet another wee little one to join our familia. I am due November 24th--the day before Turkey Day and I for one am glad I'll be able to pig out to my hearts desire without having a foot shoving into my lung like it's playing a Tether Ball championship.  We have confirmed via ultrasound that there is in fact only one little peanut with a perfect little heartbeat. We are excited and scared.  Babies: their tough work. They mean business.

There are many things that are amazing to me about the developing baby, but how something so itty-bitty can make a woman so sick tops them all for me.  I'm pretty sure that DH was certain his other half had turned into a vegetable--one that mumbles and murmers and cries. I kid you not that I have been unable to get out of bed for days on end.  It was so bad I was certain I was going to have some wicked cool bed sores to show off.  But, there is opposition in all things right? (And in this case, ironically, the opposition is the positive side of things).  Morning sickness can't be all bad. So I decided to jot down some things that are more on the upside.

1. The coke addict is healed.  For years I have tried to stop drinking coke.  I have tried it all. Mind you, I'm not addicted to caffeine. I've always been pretty sure caffeine just didn't affect me. It's just the bubbly feeling in my mouth it gives me. I don't even really like the taste of it. Why I drink it is a mystery, even to me. I drank it in my previous pregnancies, but this one--no way, no how. I couldn't even stand to look at it.  So morning sickness brought out an aversion to my addiction.  And on an even better note, I have confirmed caffeine doesn't affect me, as I had no caffeine withdrawals at all (unless of course they were lost in the midst of the morning sickness....hmmmm).

2.  "I'm pregnant." This is the best excuse for every no-good reason out there. I can use it on everything! And although it may get old to some people, I still love to use it.  I get the best seat because I'm pregnant.  I get to send DH to the store at midnight because I'm pregnant. I get to eat breakfast, lunch and dinner (and boxes of saltines) in my bed because I am pregnant.  I get to take 2 hour baths because I'm pregnant.  I can cry to my heart's content (or would it be discontent?) because...everyone say it with me now...I'm pregnant! And the best part is?? This excuse stays true the entire 9 (10) months!  Yay!

3. Ice cream is always an option. What can I say? It sounds good (or, as I say in the beginning 'doable') always. Always. Like, always.

Okay, so that's all I got.

Lou kept me sick for 14 weeks, Tater-tot took me to closer to 20. By golly, this baby better not be trying to beat 'em both, but my kids seem to have a sick sense of humor like that (get it, sick?? Haha), so we shall see. But at least in the end, I'll have a little peanut to hold. Oooh...that can be pro #4. It's probably sad that I didn't think of that earlier huh?

Stay tuned!

Stranger Danger

I'm not usually up at 5 A.M.  But my neighbors dog has decided to (yet again) greet the morning by letting all of us know that he is awake and well, and apparently motivated to start the day; because he hasn't stopped barking at all. What it must be like to wake up with that kind of motivation!  

As for me and myself, 'I do not like it, Sam I am. I do not like dogs that bark at 5 AM!'

And so, while I sit here trying to block him out, I decide to share with you the latest in my mommy life.

Each week on Monday evening, we hold what is called "Family Home Evening".  This is a time set apart each week to spend as a family.  Sometimes we talk about the Gospel.  Sometimes we talk about family matters (like how as cool as Transformers are, they don't go in the toilet. For. Whatever. Reason.). Sometimes we do the kids favorite game, which is "Tricks!"  This entails the kids showing us all their new tricks--from cool jumps, to somersaults to dancing.  We had "Tricks!" night last month, and I decided to share one of Mommy's cool tricks.  Their called when-I-was-younger-I-could-do-this-as-easily-as-walking tricks.  I decided to bring out the big guns and do a toe touch.  That will shock them all! But sadly, not only did I not touch my toes in my toe-touch, I pulled my Hammie and couldn't walk for two days.  Thus, we''ve I've taken a break from "Tricks!"

So Monday I decided to talk about the danger of strangers.  We live in an ideal neighborhood. It's my little slice of Heaven.  Quiet streets, friendly neighbors and even big trees. Every neighborhood with big trees is just awesome. I trust it. But I guess that even the best of neighborhoods can have someone sneaky sneak in.  

And so I sat my little chitlins down and told them we would be taking about something very important.  I asked them if they knew what a stranger was. "Dangerous!!" yelled Tater-tot. 

Sa-wheet! This lesson will be cake! Don't remember ever teaching Stranger Danger, but hey, I'll go with that!

"Why are strangers dangerous?"

"Because," answered the three year old, "they blow fire at people and the have volcanoes on top of their cars!"

Hmm....not quite what I was taught.  Now, not that having fire-throwing-volcano-ridden strangers would be cool--but hey, they would be easy to point out. Am I right?  That'd be kind of nice.  I explain to little children that strangers are dangerous because they may try to hurt you or steal you. And they just drive regular cars--though they are stereotyped to drive white vans.  We move on.

"What do strangers look like?" I asked inquisitively.

"Skeletons!" yells the 4 year old, "with beards!"

Again, not something I want to see walking down the street, but man, it'd be *really* easy to stay away from strangers on these terms! Where in the world did they hear this stuff??  It's at this point that I realize that maybe this won't be cake after all.  I try to explain to them all the things that I think there little brains can take in before getting distracted. Then the recap. After explaining everything, I remind them again:

"Now, we don't talk to strangers.  We don't go up to them or over to their cars unless Mommy or Daddy says that it is okay and can watch you.  They may even try to trick you and tell you they have candy, but you shouldn't go to them."

Tater-tot perks up at that thought.  "Yes I can. I will go and take their candies, and then I'll bite them and I'll hit them and my dinosaur will come and eat them.  And then I'll 'hoo-cha' them!" (If you are wondering what 'Hoo-Cha' is, it's Tater-tot's version of a Karate Kid action. He's pretty good!)  He gets up and starts kicking the air.  And then "Tricks!" begins and Stranger Danger ends.

And I end Family Home Evening wondering. Wondering if it sunk in at all.  Wondering if I have prepared them for the cruel world that is outside my doorstep. And wondering if I might be able to get a stranger to come steal the neighbors dog. 

Kidding! 

Sort of.

Slippery Fish and other sorts of randomness

In church on Sunday, Tater-tot really wanted me to draw him a 'swippery fish.'

I don't really know how to draw a slippery fish.  I can draw a fish, sure. But how does one make it slippery?  DH attempted at it, but when Tater-tot saw the results he yelled, (and I do mean yelled--in church--a quiet place) "Dat's not swippery fish! Dat's a bag!!"  Apparently DH needs to go to art school.  Or Tater-tot needs a more creative eye.  I learned from our nursery leaders that he also wanted them to sing the 'swippery fish' song.  When they didn't know what he was talking about, he answered, "My teacher knows it. I will get the words from her."  Sure enough, today he asked his teacher for the slippery fish song. I have had a request to hold off a week to let him present it so the nursery leader doesn't miss it. Can you freeze a 3 year old? Cuz he's just so dang cute I just might attempt it.
The other day I was getting the kids dressed for school.  Since we had enjoyed slightly warmer temperatures at 50 degrees the day before, it was only natural that I woke up to 5 inches of snow.  Explaining to the kids that they need their coats, boots and scarfs today when yesterday the only needed light jackets is confusing for them.  And you know what kids do when they're confused. They fight it.  It was a miracle they even got dressed.

How is that Feburary is the shortest month of the year, yet it lasts the longest? Someday soon--though not soon enough--I will post a beautiful picture of the tulips starting to bloom. On that day, there will be joy. Mark my words: there will be joy.

The next step...

When Lou was 18 months old, we noticed something.  She was very talkative, energized, happy and active. She danced and she singed and she seemed to think the world was her stage. But only when she was at home.

At first, Lou only talked to me and DH.  A few months later she branched out to Grandparents.  DH and I are close with both of our families and get together a lot.  Lou often took several hours to warm up in social settings and wouldn't speak to any other uncles, aunts or cousins.  Over the past few years, her branches of whom she can comfortably speak with has lengthened, but the battle is just beginning.

When Lou was 2-3, she had a series of severe panic attacks. The first happened at the doctors office at her 2 year checkup. It was like she was horrifically terrified. I had never seen her act like that before.  When she started preschool a few months later, they started happening more often.  She wouldn't speak to anyone outside the family, and even then, those whom she would speak with still remained small.  I knew something wasn't right.  My pediatrician said she was 'just shy'. But I knew something much deeper resided in Lou's reasoning for not speaking.

I did some research and came across Selective Mutism.  I knew instantly this is what Lou suffered from.  Over the past 18 months, I tried to find help, but couldn't find anyone who really knew anything about it.  Selective Mutism is similar to the case of Autism in children 10-15 years ago.  Parents knew something was wrong, but doctors weren't sure or gave a different diagnosis and treatment altogether.

With Lou starting Kindergarten, my desperation for more answers became every day worry.  Lou is extremely bright. She's smart, she's incredibly observant and she is just plain old fun.  But it is a Lou that few people get to see.  The effects of school with people who have SM can be catastrophic if not handled carefully.  I felt that it was with the upmost caution and thought that I chose what school she should attend and how the school and teacher could best help her. 

So, we start on our next step.  Lou has not yet been officially diagnosed. I have not known where to go to get her help.  But, (and I thank my lucky stars) I have met another mother whose child also suffers from SM and has pointed me in the direction of getting Lou the help she needs.  It will be a long road.  It has been a long road.  But I look forward to it with hope and faith that we can help her and I am glad to be able to finally not carry this burden alone.  The video below is a 20/20 special on 2 kids who suffer from SM.  It is as if they have filmed our lives, as this is exactly the same story we carry.  I hope that those who often interact with Lou can watch this and gain some understanding of why she may not talk to them at times (or not at all).  And I hope that should any parent wondering should stumble upon this post, that it will help them because I know how it feels to have no answers.

Laughter---a mother's necessity

Being a mom is tough work. Like really tough.

I like to look back and laugh about how I used to think I had all the answers--you know, when I was 16 and knew everything?  I've since forgotten all that I used to know. But here is one thing I do know. My kids are hil-a-rious.  I think that is God's way of putting the cherry on top of the sundae--a very messy sundae.  Here are some joyful verbage I've enjoyed this week.

'A boy named Sue' by Johnny Cash was playing on the radio.  Lou (4) says "Mom I don't like this singer."

"Why not?" I ask

"Because he has a funny voice."

"Yeah, it is a bit different isn't it?"
"Yeah. He sounds like a farmer......that never went to school."

Tater-tot would not eat his lunch. He would do everything BUT eat his lunch.  When DH told him to sit down and eat or go to the corner, tater-tot replies "I would go eat my lunch, if you'd quit buggin me!"

When I asked Tater-tot if he was excited for Valentines Day,

he replied "NO! And I don't want to be a Valentine Boy. AND I DON'T want to wear pink. You can't make me!!!'

During church, with 35 minutes still to go, Tater-tot points to the clock on the wall and says "See that clock mom? It says it's time to go home! We better listen, or we'll be late!"

Lou is convinced you go to the store to 'buy' a baby--and she really wants us to buy a baby girl next.  When DH was getting ready to go to work on day, Lou told him "Dad, go to work. You need to make more money so you can go buy us a baby girl."

Lou:  "Mom, I must be getting older."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because I keep calling people by the wrong name like you and grandma always do."

One of the kids great-grandmothers brought them over a Valentine's treat.  Later, when Lou was talking to Grandma (who is great-grandma's daughter), went something like this:
"Hi Grandma, Happy Valentines Day.  You're mother brought me a treat, but she didn't bring you one did she?"

Somedays, it's just one funny saying that can turn the day around, and today I am thankful for that.

Because he turned 3...

Everytime I sit down at my computer, something breaks. I kid you not. My computer is not my friend. In fact, most electronics are not my friend.  My MP3 player, just after I finished loading all my favorite songs on it, decided to quit.  My external hard drive decided to crash. And my laptop decided it was going to kick the bucket and fried it's motherboard (okay..so maybe I fried the motherboard when I plugged its completely-unsafe-sparking-AC adapter in).  But for these reasons, and probably many more, I have dropped from the blogging world.

But then, Tater-tot turned 3. THREE. Where does the time go? Maybe it's irony that the first blog post I ever created was announcing his birth (did I mention that that blog also went kaploot on me? No? Well--it did). 

Let's face it. My memory is simply not the way it used to be.  I often leave the house without my purse. Or my phone. Or there was the one time when I nearly walked into church without a shirt on (true story).  In fact, just this week I missed my primary meeting for at least the umpteenth time just because I simply forgot.  And so I know that I am going to forget these days.  Everyone tells me, someday I'll look back on these days and wish I could see it all again. Since most the time, what everyone says is what happens, I am giving another go at our family blog--full of the adventures of Lou, my 16 year old daughter who is trapped inside a 4 year olds body and my now 3 year old, whose little pouty lip can give him just about anything. Don't believe me? Check it out, taken at just 3 months old. He's had THREE years to perfect it, people.  He knows it. And he uses it.

And so, stay tuned for more of our shennangins, funny stories, bad days to laugh at later and just life in general.  But first, a then and now picture of Tater-tot and other cute faces (because I can't resist).