Bald Heads and Gummy Smiles

 
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My babies are bald.  And they have delicious gummy smiles.

Mr. Charm at about 7 and a half months old

Mr. Happy at about 6 and a half months old

I drink in the smell of Mr. Happy’s little bald head.  One day, in about six or seven more months, he’ll have enough hair that I won’t be able to kiss his sweet scalp.  I’ll be kissing peach fuzz, instead.

And I’ll miss his little, bald head.

One day he’ll have enough teeth that I won’t see his adorable, gummy smile.  And I’ll miss the way his little baby face grins with gums.

I’m trying to soak it all in; memorize every millisecond of his essential ‘baby-ness’, because I may never get to have it again.

I’d like more children.  Correction: I’d LOVE more children.

But the Geek and I are in a place right now where we just don’t know if we should have any more.  

There are lots of reasons.  Each of our children has cost us an exorbitant amount of money in their first few months on Earth in medical bills.  The FPIES, MPI, IgE allergies, and Fructose Malabsorption issues require HUGE amounts of effort to keep in check, in addition to that financial strain.

The Geek is 41 years old; I’m 35.  If we were to get pregnant right now, the Geek would still be 60 before our youngest was off to college.  Since we can’t get pregnant right now (too dangerous to risk my milk supply for Mr. Happy’s FPIES), he’ll probably be pushing retirement age before the youngest has flown the coop (if we wait until Mr. Happy weans to conceive).

My job is highly unstable right now.  We already don’t know what we would do with the permanent loss of my income; add another child to the mix – especially one with high medical bills and health issues (which is likely) – and we REALLY don’t know what we would do with the loss of my income.

So, for now, we are probably done.  For now.  We’re open to thinking about it again after Mr. Happy has self-weaned, whenever that is.

It breaks my heart, honestly.  If we are done, I’ll probably be sad about the lack of a third child for the rest of my life.  I’ll be angry that food is the reason I can’t have more children.

So, for now, I drink Mr. Happy in.  I revel in his babbles, his gummy grins, his absolute baby adorableness in every thing he does.

I don’t want to blink.  Baby-hood goes by SO FAST.  I don’t want to miss a thing.

It might be all I ever get.

Have your kiddos’ health issues put the kibosh on any future children you were planning to have?  Does it break your heart, too?

 

Early Intervention

 
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Mr. Charm ‘talking’ on his toy phone last summer. Hopefully he’ll be talking a LOT more soon!

Last year, when Mr. Charm turned 2, we noticed that he didn’t seem to talk as much as other kids his age.

Thanks to all the crazy medical stuff that went on last summer, I couldn’t get in for his 2 year checkup until September – a full 2.5 months after he actually turned 2.  I mentioned my concern about his speaking abilities to the doctor on the phone a few weeks before the appointment, and she said to write down everything he said and bring it with me to the appointment.

I did.  By his appointment, he was regularly saying 72 words, and had started putting together a couple of little two word sentences.  Plus, we noted, his comprehension was out of this world!  He could follow three step instruction without missing a beat.

The pediatrician assured me that he was within the range of normal; on the low side of normal, but not out of bounds.  Plus, as advanced as his gross and fine motor skills are, she said, often verbal skills will sort of languish in comparison.  But, still, she assured me, things were fine for then.

With all the other medical issues in our lives, we said “OK”, put it on the back-burner, and moved on.

Until around Christmas.  The Geek and I had sort of noticed that there didn’t seem to be a lot of verbal development beyond where he was in September, but, well, we’ve been sick as dogs off an on for the last 6 weeks so we were waiting to do anything about it.

Then my Mom told me about the 2 1/2 year olds she had on both her flight up and her flight back from visiting us.  They were boys.  They were singing whole Christmas Carols – and it was understandable!

So I went online to see where exactly Mr. Charm’s speech should be at this point in his development, and whether I should look into speech therapy for him.  I found an article that said children develop at their own rates…BUT, that if your child is doing any ONE of the following things between 20-24 months, you should have your child evaluated.

Followed was a pretty decent list, including mispronouncing vowels and omitting consonants, but what struck me was that on this list was:

  • Uses one sound or syllable to name most objects
  • Doesn’t seem frustrated when you don’t understand what they want – just gives up easily or gets it for themselves
  • Still says single words only, not sentences
  • Uses a word once and then doesn’t use it again frequently

Those are all things Mr. Charm does.

  • EVERYTHING is “Piece!” to him.  If he wants you to stand somewhere, he points to the place and says “Piece!”  If he wants a cracker, “Piece!”.  If he wants french fries, “Piece!”
  • He doesn’t get upset if we don’t ‘get’ what he’s saying.  He just moves furniture, climbs counters, and/or breaks childproofing  to get what he wants.
  • He still rarely uses sentences.  Even when he does, it’s more like two single words put together.  For example, he’ll say “Baby!  Up!” with definite breaks between words, but not really “Baby up!”  See what I mean?
  • And he’ll often say a new word – which thrills us – and then we won’t hear him say it ever again.

Oh, he has gotten new words; just over Christmas he learned “coal” because my grandmother pointed out the ‘coal’ in the train car he was holding.  And he uses it.

But he won’t say “Coal Car”, or “Coal train”.  It’s just “Coa!”

So, the Geek and I discussed it.  The Geek was feeling really rotten that maybe he’d let his pride get in the way of getting our son the help he needs, but I pointed out that I didn’t think we’d been neglectful at all.  We knew this was a potential problem back in June, we addressed it with his pediatrician, at the time, he was not in any developmental danger, so we back-burnered it in lieu of all the other major issues we had to deal with.  As soon as we realized it had become a problem again, we decided to deal with it.  No pride, no neglect.  Just bad timing.

Furthermore, I pointed out to him, had he also noticed that when Mr. Charm is OFF the fructose, he says more words, learns more words, and even his motor skills – already so advanced – improve more?

Because now that I thought about it, I had certainly seen that to be true.

So I believe that had we caught the Fructose Malabsorption early last year, and gotten his diet under control, his verbal skills would probably have caught up all on their own.  Since we didn’t, though, we now need to get his diet under control AND get him speech therapy, to make sure he doesn’t fall too far behind before the magic “3” birthday.  (I’d read that at 3 was when children’s brains stop running all synapses and start shutting down the ones they aren’t using, so before 3 is the time to really get developmental growth.  That may be untrue, but I still don’t want him to fall behind.)

So, the Geek felt better, and on Monday (with tonsillitis!) last week I called his pediatrician to get a referral to Early Intervention.

The EI coordinator called back last Thursday to chat with me.  She explained some of how it will work, and, due to our geographical isolation, we will probably not be blessed with in-home therapy.  She asked how quickly I could come in to give them permission to test him.  “Tomorrow?” I said.

She laughed.  “I’m booked up tomorrow.  How’s Monday?”

“Just fine.” I said.

So yesterday morning I was in town, handing over my insurance card and signing a stack of papers giving them permission to evaluate Mr. Charm for speech therapy.  Now we just get to wait for a phone call from the therapist to schedule the evaluation, and see what happens.

I think he could benefit from therapy, but I don’t know if he’ll qualify for it.  So, we’ll see.

And, of course, in the last three days that speech therapy has been on the table, he’s been using new words and even started using some sign language he picked up from the Baby Einstein videos.  Because, of course!

We’ll see what happens.  I’m interested in seeing what this process looks like.

Though, really – do I actually need another thing  on my plate?

Anyone else have a child in speech therapy?  How’s is working for you?

Child Care

 
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photo courtesy of Stuart Miles at http://freedigitalphotos.net

I love my children.

Ahem.   More specifically…

I *LOVE* my children with every fiber of my being.

But sometimes, the unrelenting…relentlessness  of being responsible for them 24/7/365 is just flat-out exhausting.

Because I don’t ever – EVER – get a break.**

Child care is hard enough to find without adding such specific, serious, potentially deadly food needs to the mix.

The only person willing to watch my kids regularly is my Mom…and she currently lives over 600 miles away.  Not to mention, even SHE is nervous about being able to care for them properly.

My in-laws are willing to watch Mr. Charm on occasion, like for a quick trip into town, say, but not both kids, and not for long.

We can’t afford to pay for babysitting services.  Even if we could find someone we trust, I am sure we’d probably pay a premium due to the food issues.

I have friends at church who would LOVE to take care of my kids to give me a break.  But they’re too scared of the food issues to actually do it.

So, it’s me and the two kiddos, 24/7/365.  Sometimes we get to have Daddy with us.  A couple hours per day on M-F, and (usually) most or all of the day on the weekends.  Plus holidays.

I read normal food Mama’s talking about how, once the baby is old enough (usually in the 3-6 month range) they start returning to book clubs, Girls Night Outs, mani/pedi appointments, spa days, all-alone shopping trips, not to mention actual Date Nights with their husbands or even – gasp! – an overnight trip with their husband.

For me?

Not. Gonna. Happen. 

For YEARS.

The closest I can get to anything resembling freedom is leaving Mr. Charm with the Geek and going to the grocery store with only  Mr. Happy.

The Geek and I are stoically accepting of the fact that the next date we’ll ever have is after Mr. Happy weans…which, frankly, could be as long as two years from now.  We’re thrilled beyond belief to be allowed to watch an entire episode of a TV show on Netflix uninterrupted, while cuddling on the couch.

I think it’s happened two or three times since Mr. Happy was born.

I adore my children and love spending time with them.  Truly.

But you know what?  I love my husband, too.  I used to enjoy spending time doing things alone with him.  After all, I married him with the intention of doing things with him for the rest of our lives, right?  Going out to dinner, going to movies (we’re fond of action/adventure/comic book movies, actually!), going to little off-the-beaten-path cabins in the woods with private hot tubs.  That was all really fun and enjoyable.  It was the stuff that reminds you that your spouse is sexy, funny, warm, and, well, likable.

And I used to enjoy doing things alone.  Spending hours in a bookstore, browsing.  Hitting up the local yarn/craft stores, thinking about what new thing I could make.  Even just wandering the Hallmark store, reading the cards and replenishing my ‘stock’.

I haven’t actually done any of those things, either with the Geek or all by my lonesome since…June of 2010.

A lot of Mama’s struggle with losing their sense of self after becoming a Mama.  But for most of them, they COULD get a babysitter if they WOULD.  They just WON’T.

I WOULD have gotten back in the habit of being a Woman, a Wife, a Person outside of being Mama if I COULD have.

But I CAN’T.

I can’t leave my children with anyone.

I love being Mama to my babies.

But sometimes, well, I miss being Me.

__________

**except when I’m sick and the Geek takes over, but that’s hardly a break, right?

And in the interest of being fair, the Geek and I did take an overnight when Mr. Charm was 6 months old and my in-laws watched him for our 2nd Anniversary.  It was hell trying to find dairy & egg-free food for me to eat (I wasn’t very adept at that yet) and I had to interrupt our “alone” time to pump every three hours.  SO romantic!  We haven’t done it since.  

How do my fellow FAM/FPIES/Fructose Malabsorption Mama’s deal with the childcare issue?  Do you get date nights?  HOW?

My Bloody Boys

 
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Oh, blood.  I never thought Motherhood would bring so much blood into my life.

Yesterday Mr. Charm’s first poopy diaper of the day had visible blood in it.  As I’ve stated before, that has only ever happened for him if he consumes dairy.  So I called the Geek at work to ask him if he knew of any inadvertent dairy consumption by Mr. Charm.

Nope.  He said it was always possible, of course, that the little scamp had taken a swig of his coffee (with cream) without him knowing, but he hadn’t seen anything for sure.

Hmm.

It was a possibility, but a stolen swig of coffee with cream shouldn’t be enough to put blood in his diaper.  I looked a little closer at some of the new foods we’re feeding him, based on our new Fructose Free diet.

Mr. Charm loves bread.  Flat out LOVES it.  This new diet forbids wheat, due to the fructans.  So I have searched high and low and read just about every-single-loaf-of-bread I can find in my area, trying to find him some safe bread that he can have.

Finally, success!  In the frozen section of the health food store I found a Sourdough-Rye bread.  A whopping 15  t-h-i-n  slices costs about $5, but he LOVES it!

Mr. Charm’s FAVORITE food

He eats at least 5 slices a day, slathered with all-natural peanut butter and he is in food heaven.  So of course, despite the cost, we buy it for him.

I looked a little closer at the ingredients, thinking that maybe, somehow, I had misread the ingredients.  Nope.  It is, in fact, dairy-free, egg-free, and fructose/fructan-free.

HOWEVER.  I DID miss the part where it says “Manufactured on equipment THAT PROCESSES PRODUCTS containing wheat, milk and soy.”

So cross-contamination has finally reared its ugly little sneaky face in the Cradle Rocking Household.  

And maybe THAT explains why, for the last three days, Mr. Charm has come up to us several times per day pointing to his tummy and saying “Ow”.

Ugh.

I suppose now I need to start work on a wheat-free, dairy-free, egg-free Rye bread recipe. Fun times.

Meanwhile, Mr. Happy has been teething again.  It seems like he’s always teething, I know, but there’s general gnawing on things teething and then there’s the active, clenched jaw in pain, moaning, clamping down on every-thing-he-sees teething.  Right now, he’s doing the latter.

Well, we can’t do Oragel, we can’t whip out the drugstore children’s Ibuprofen and dose him like crazy, we can’t do most of the things people do for teething pain because they’ll basically be causing us to do a food trial and we just aren’t ready for that yet.  

He’s on the tail end (I think/hope) of reactions that started back in November; this part, I think, is to whatever fillers were in the antibiotics I had to take in December.  His symptoms are getting better, but he’s still reacting a bit – and he needs some gut rest time before we can attempt anything new.  Right now, even with the slight reactions he’s having, it’s highly likely he could react to something new simply because he’s already in the middle of a reaction – not because the new thing is actually a problem.

But of course, if he reacts to the new thing for whatever  reason, his body will remember that it reacted to it and will forevermore (or for at least 18-24 months) react to it.  Again, even if it might have been okay if we’d waited until his little body wasn’t out of whack.

So, no vanilla or cloves on the gums, no acetaminophen (we haven’t given him that before, so we don’t know if it is okay or not), no nothing.

Except ice.

So two days ago I gave him a mesh feeder with ice cubes in it to teethe on.

He chomped down, gnawed, drooled, sucked, and for the first time all day, I didn’t have to listen to moaning.  Score!

As soon as that ice cube was gone, he got another one.  And another one.

And suddenly, the SCREAM came out of nowhere.

I ran over to him, thinking he had clunked his head on something in that instant my back was turned, but he wasn’t laying on the floor and his head had no red spots.  I picked him up and cooed at him, trying to comfort him, and in less than a minute, he was fine again.  Not smiling, not really happy, but not screaming.

I bent down to get his mesh teether for him and noticed…something on the mesh bag.

I looked closer.

Blood.

Holy smokes!

Immediately I turned his little face to me and started prying his lips apart.  Sure enough, on his upper gum line, directly over his two little cute teeth, was a nifty little cut. 

I wiped away the blood and snuggled him close for a bit, and eventually all was fine and happy again.

Somehow, he’d managed to bite SO HARD that he forced the ice remnants to the other end of the feeder and bit himself through the mesh until he bled. 

Good bite, kiddo!

THAT is a totally new “teething” issue for me.

I felt rotten for him, but there wasn’t much I could do except offer him ice – which he refused.  Smart kid.

Furthermore, for the last four days, he’s been comfort nursing like Cah-RAZ-y.  I’m talking nursing every hour to hour and a half all day…and all night.

Did I mention how I’ve been sick with Tonsillitis?  So waking up like that is seriously cramping my “get Mama better fast” abilities.

So, two nights ago (the night before Mr. Charm’s lovely diaper display), upon nursing him for the four hundred eleventy-ith time that day, I looked at the Geek and said “What can we do?”

We talked it out.  It was midnight.  I’m just getting over being sick.  I was exhausted.

We didn’t want acetominophen to be ruined because he reacted to it simply because he’s reactive right now.  We didn’t want to try any vanilla or cloves, because we didn’t know how effective those would be AND they’d basically be a food trial, too.  We didn’t want to try Oragel or any of the other teething medications we used on Mr. Charm for the same reasons (plus, I don’t know if we even have any of those in the house any more!).

But Ibuprofen…well, see, now, we KNOW he has slow build, chronic reactions to Ibuprofen.  We know it doesn’t get very bad very quickly.  It’s already  an unsafe thing for him to have.  And he’s already  reacting to something in the antibiotics.

We also know that in the short term?  That stuff WORKS.  

So we gave him a dose of Ibuprofen.

And you know what?  He nursed every TWO hours that night, instead of every hour to hour and a half.

We all woke up the next morning feeling much better about life in general, due to not being quite as sleep deprived.

I really don’t want to give him any more.  I spent the whole day mentally beating myself in the head for giving it to him the first time.  I kept trying to remind myself that I was exhausted, sick, tired, and stuck between a rock and a hard place and that the Geek and I made the call together…but it still felt AWFUL to give my little stinker-poo something I KNOW doesn’t work for his little body.

I’m sorry if he has to live in pain for a bit.  I’ll comfort nurse him all he wants from here on out.  But I just can’t bring myself to give him more Ibuprofen.

I need his little gut to heal and rest for a bit so we can try some foods on him.  He’s desperate to eat; we’re desperate for him TO eat.  I’d love to add something new to my elimination diet.

So, sorry, sweetie.  I hope you learned not to bite so hard on those mesh feeders, cause baby boy?  They’re all the pain relief you’re going to get for now.

Anyone else ever been in a position where you gave your kiddo something unsafe and you knew it?  Anyone have a good Sourdough-Rye bread recipe to share?

No Escape

 
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Have you ever noticed that food is everywhere?

No, seriously.  It’s in commercials, TV shows, movies, magazines, books, billboards…it is everywhere, and you can’t escape it.

Mr. Charm is now in the 2-3 year old group at Sunday School, instead of in the nursery.  This is great!  He now gets to play with kids more his age, and do arts and crafts and stuff.

photo by sumpics.com
Hello, Poison!!

This is awful!  The arts and crafts products they use are almost certainly not safe for at least one of my sons, and for some bizarre, absurd reason, they insist of giving the kids SNACKS.

Why, pray tell, is it necessary to give a child a snack at 10:00 a.m., when the child ate breakfast a scant 2 hours before and will eat lunch a scant 2 hours later?  Hmm?  I promise, they will NOT starve to death.  And a little mild hunger?  Will  just make lunch taste better.

So I cannot enjoy Sunday School or Church at all any longer because I’m a nervous wreck the whole time that Mr. Charm will ingest something bad for him.  Or somehow “pick up” and bring home something incredibly bad for his little brother.

Even if I hadn’t been sick the whole last month, this ‘snack’ protocol would have made me hesitant to go to church.  Horrible!

And what is UP with the Baby Einstein videos??

Here we’re doing EVERYTHING IN OUR POWER to break Mr. Charm of his Cheerios and Bread and sugar addiction, and WHAT DO I SEE in their stinking videos?

Bowls of Cheerios and a toaster popping up bread.

Followed closely by ‘counting’ eggs.

All of which has Mr. Charm screaming at the TV “Piece!!  Bread!!” and then tugging on my hand to try and force me to feed him one of those offending foods.

UGH!

Not to mention cute vignettes of picking apples (poison for Mr. Charm) or an adorable toddler eating corn (poison for Mr. Happy).

photo by sumpics.com
Such pretty food…such pretty poison for my kiddos!

For a normal food family, the videos are charming and wholesome; they’re showing foods traditionally considered healthy and good for children, after all, not cheeseburgers and french fries!

But for me?  They may as well be showing one of the little babies with a shot of whiskey and a joint in their cute little hands.  I’m just as horrified, appalled and chagrined.

Walking the normal world as a food-allergic family feels an awful lot like being a barely sober alcoholic that has to work in a bar.  Temptation and poison everywhere, and no escape.

Ugh.  So.  Frustrating.

It’s just going to make it harder to explain to my kiddos about their food needs (“Why can Jimmy have it and I can’t, Mom!!??!?”), and in the meantime, serve as a reminder to me how truly “different” my kids are.

I don’t like my kids being “different”.  I don’t want to be reminded of it every. dang. time. I turn around.

But there is simply NO WAY to avoid it.

Does anyone else feel like you’re being bombarded with FOOD everywhere you turn?

How Is It Possible…

 
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photo courtesy of Phiseksit at http://freedigitalphotos.net
This is not my bedroom, but I’m actually kind of digging the lime green on the walls. Is that weird?

When:  last night

Where: our KING sized bed

Who: Me, the 129 pound shrinking woman, and Mr. Happy, the 19 pound cuddle bug

Why: the Geek was (rarely, now) having a hard time sleeping so went to the couch so his tossing and turning wouldn’t disturb the two “sickies” in the family; Mr. Charm went to sleep with Daddy on the couch when  he woke up at 3:00 a.m.

What: Even with just the two of us being in a KING sized bed, I STILL wound up with a whopping ten inches of space at the edge of the bed with which to sleep. 

HOW is that POSSIBLE??

My kids are freaking bed hogs, that’s all there is to it!

Maybe U2 Was Right

 
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Maybe nothing really does change on New Year’s Day.  But it’s a good time to take a look at the changes that have occurred over the previous year.

One of my favorite pictures of Mr. Charm EVER! This was him last year around this time, on an unseasonably warm day.

Mommy Wants Vodka, a hilarious, terribly off-color blog I read to bring some  adult laughter into my days, does one meme and one meme only: an end of the year re-cap.  (Thanks to my friend Rebecca for introducing me to Aunt Becky!)  I had planned to do her New Year’s Meme, but, frankly, I’m a little too fuzzy right now and it would feel more like a test than an enjoyable look backwards, so I’m just going to write about it, prose-style.

Yesterday morning, the last day of 2012, I woke up with a sore throat and body aches from head to toe.  “Great,” I thought, “Here we go again!”  So I called and yes, our GP had hours that day so off Mr. Happy and I went to the doctor.

I thought surely I’d relapsed into Strep – it felt THE SAME.

But nope!  Not so fortunate this time!  Instead, it is just VIRAL tonsillitis.  Viral,  meaning “Yes you’re sick but no we can’t do anything to help you.”

Gorgeous.  Lovely.  Awesomesauce.

So, I’m – once again – sick as a dog.  I think I can count on one hand the number of days since Thanksgiving when I HAVE NOT been sick as a dog.

Ugh.

Even better – Mr. Happy seems to have a sickness of some sort.  I really don’t think it’s anything FPIES or allergy related in any way, but he’s warm and clingy.  Let me rephrase that – he’s C-L-I-N-G-Y.  And the Geek will ‘do’ as someone to hold him, unless he sees Mommy, at which point ONLY Mommy can make everything better.

Since I’m so weak standing up makes me tired, this is not ideal.  Holding a squirming, 19 pound Mr. Happy is like wrestling an octopus and I’m not really up to that task right now.

There’s a tradition, probably in lots of places but especially in the South, where I am from, that says that what you do on New Year’s Day is what you will do all year long.  

I think the whole family sincerely hopes that tradition is NOT true. 

(Though, the fact that the Geek has been AWESOME on house cleaning today would be nice to have continue year long!)

Another part of that tradition is that you must eat Black-Eyed Peas (usually with cornbread) and Greens (usually Collard Greens, but whatever floats your boat) for your traditional New Year’s Dinner.

As those foods are basically poison for someone in my family, right now, we can’t have our traditional dinner, either.

Hopefully, we’ll still have Wealth and Luck this year, regardless.

So.  The progress of a year.

A year ago, I was flying, pregnant with Mr. Happy, and things were just hunky dory awesome.  Our house was quickly growing too small for us, but we had decided that as soon as I hit maternity leave (end of February) I was going to undertake a MASSIVE purge to clear out as much stuff as possible so we could fit into our home.  Even if it was still a tight fit.

Before I started maternity leave, lo and behold, a total shocking surprise came our way: we got our house!  (Long story, but we were essentially ‘squatters’ in my Grandmother-in-laws house after she moved into a nursing home, and finally were given ownership of the house last year.)  So, now we had our names on the deed and could get financing to remodel the garage and make it living space instead of parking space.

Hallelujah!

We got right on it, but due to multiple snafu’s and myriad incompetencies along the way, construction didn’t actually start until June.  When Mr. Happy was 12 days old.

Can I get a groan from the audience?  Ugh!

So, I never purged the house as much as I probably should have, but we did get the chance to throw a LOT Of stuff out when we had a dumpster living on our property, so I guess that’s something.

We were so happy with our financial situation the first half of the year.  We had FINALLY paid off the medical debt from Mr. Charm’s first year or so of life, and had a decent savings account build up.  Getting through 15 months of no income from me would be tricky, in that we would have to be frugal and pay attention, but not at all impossible or hard.

Mr. Charm finally seemed to be doing well and we were so thrilled with the fact that we seemed to have his health under control.

Yup, the first half of 2012 was just chock full of ‘glory days’ for the Cradle Rocking household.

Then we had Mr. Happy.

His delivery was great, and terrible.  Both my kiddos REALLY like being in the womb, and tend to stay put past 40 weeks.  I honestly believe that if medical people would let things happen as nature intended, my kids would probably decide they needed to be born at about 42 or 43 weeks, but doctors don’t want that to happen.  Too many potential problems with a baby born after 41 weeks.

Not to mention, my awesome insurance through MY job was going to expire on May 31, after which I would be using the Geek’s insurance to pay for the delivery and HIS insurance is just…not as good.  As in: on my insurance, delivery would cost us all of $25 (that we had already paid as the co-payment on pre-natal care) and on HIS insurance, delivery would cost us at least $1,500, probably more.

So, I had to be induced.  Again.

And I had to basically repeat Mr. Charm’s TERRIBLE delivery each step of the way…except somehow, with medical personnel who LISTENED to me and worked with us, it was all SO MUCH BETTER.

Mr. Happy was born and came home the next day, as opposed to spending a week in the NICU like Mr. Charm did.  I don’t think there is any way to convey the relief we felt at that.  

So, there we were with our brand new baby, and we had NO CLUE what to do with him.  Our only time spent with a brand new baby, you see, had been in the NICU, where nurses basically run the show.  So we were sort of like first time parents!

We got our feet under us, house construction began, and life was still good.  Tired and exhausted from life with a newborn, but good.  

My boys. Mr. Charm has loved his little brother since Day 1.

And then, of course, came July, and the whole story I’ve documented on this blog.

I don’t think the last half of the year could be MORE opposite the first half if I had tried to make it so.  

From last New Year’s Day to this one:

  • we have two sons, not one
  • we are FAR poorer financially
  • I am FAR skinnier
  • our baseline stress levels are at least 50% higher than they were
  • our marriage is stronger (we’ve been tested and became stronger, for which I am incredibly grateful)
  • we are more scared of the future
  • we have many more medical issues than we ever have (and we haven’t exactly been ‘light’ on the medical issues front since we got married!)

We are in a worse position now than we were a year ago in so many ways, but you know what?

It’s a season.  It’s a phase.  It will pass.

I wouldn’t change A THING.  NOT ONE THING.  

Because all the stress, financial woes, fear of the future, etc. comes about because of our children’s medical issues, and the only way to eliminate those problems would be to go backwards in time and NOT have our children…and THAT is unthinkable to me.

My children are my blessing, even with the stresses that they bring.  My children are priceless and invaluable.  They are my heart and soul.  

So, maybe nothing really changes on New Year’s Day, but a lot of change has happened for us in the last year.  

And it’s ALL GOOD. 

My boys two days ago. My heart and soul. And I LOVE matching their clothes!

My only HOPE for 2013 is that my children grow healthy and well, that we get good medical care, and that we continue to learn how to feed them properly.  Everything else is icing on the cake. 

What does your life look like one year later?  What are your hopes for 2013?

Our First Christmas With Kiddos

 
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No, this wasn’t our first Christmas with kiddos in the literal sense, but it WAS our first Christmas with kiddos who could manage to unwrap a gift by themselves and be excited about the whole shebang.

It was really, really cool.

At 8:00 a.m. Mr. Happy woke up.  With all four of us in the bed together, the little munchkin just cannot resist trying to get his big brother to play with him.  So, Mr. Charm woke up.  Which meant we were all UP.

The Geek and I quickly made ourselves look a tad presentable, then looked at Mr. Charm and said “Do you want to go see what Santa brought for you?”

Now, I don’t really think Mr. Charm understands anything about Santa, yet, but I guess our tone of voice was exciting enough that he did a big GASP, got big eyes, and said “O-KAY!”  Then he took off running.

We followed behind, and for the next hour we enjoyed the unwrapping and playing with gifts.

It was a blast.

The sheer enjoyment and thrill of opening gifts on Christmas…it’s just as much fun to witness and facilitate it as it was to be the recipient as a child.  

Examining a new toy..

Wow! Cool!

Showing off his new Thomas decals!

Putting together his new Thomas Puzzle

Digging into his stocking

SLINKY!!!!

Concentrating REALLY HARD on his new game

I’m looking forward to years of such sheer joy and excitement in the future.

Mr. Happy was just thrilled to try getting a hold of all the wrapping paper flying about, and when that failed, playing with his brothers new toys.  It was enough for a 6 month old, that’s for sure!

Oh, and Mr. Charm had the first bacon he’s had in MONTHS on Christmas morning, too, and really – isn’t that almost better than any gift?  Yum!

How was your Christmas morning?  Do you just love watching your kids open gifts, too?

My Big-Girl Panties

 
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Actual magnet on my fridge. Why yes, I AM the only female in my house…why do you ask?

OK, so one of my favorite quotes of all time is: “Put on your big girl panties and deal with it!”

It’s like a slap in the face and an atta-girl all wrapped up in one!

But there is ONE other thing I love about “big-girl panties” – how indescribably COMFY they are!

As you now know, I’ve lost at least 50 (more like 62, if you go by my sick weight) pounds on this elimination diet for Mr. Happy.

My clothes don’t fit anymore.  They’re literally falling off of me.  I’ve dropped 5-6 dress sizes.  (That’s like, from a 16/18 to a SIX, y’all!)

One thing I have NOT done?  

Bought new underwear.  

Oh, I bought A new bra.  (And three weeks later had to buy a new one, which is why I’m buying one at a time…)  But panties?  Nope.  Still wearing the same ones I wore before I lost the weight.

Perhaps my denial at my previous size was stronger than I realized, and I had just chosen to NOT buy the appropriate size underwear for my voluminous heinie back in the day.

Whatever.

What I DO know is this: the underwear I was wearing when I was THAT much larger?  DOES NOT RIDE UP.

For those ladies out there who love thongs, God Bless You.  I don’t understand you; in fact, I think you’re probably closet masochists, but God Bless You, anyway.

Me?  I prefer my underwear to stay firmly over my heinie, thankyouverymuch.

So I think I’ll stay in the same underwear for as long as it doesn’t actually, you know, fall off.  Because as long as it stays put where I want it to stay put?

It’s staying put.

Truth time: would you be willing to wear panties in a HUGE number size just to keep them from riding up, or do you buy thongs on purpose?