Mr. NICU

Eleven days ago we welcomed our twins (10 weeks early) into the world.  They are beautiful babies and are thriving in the NICU.  And I promise I'll tell that story on the blog at some point, but today I have to focus my attention on my husband.  He could use the attention!  No, in reality, I am just in awe of him and need to take a moment to reflect on how he survived the last couple of weeks.
It all began the Sunday before Thanksgiving.  I was admitted into the hospital for the second time in the last month for contractions and cervical changes.  One second it's business as usual, and in the next second our lives are turned upside down.  What began as a one day hospital stay turned into four, which turned into us being told I'd have to stay for the next two weeks.  (Turned out the twins had other plans.)  While I spent my days in the hospital, Rick had to figure out what to do with Charlie.  First he stayed home, then we brought in a friend, and finally we summoned his mom for a couple of days.  Thanksgiving week is especially busy for Enterprise, so Rick's work schedule was jam packed.  And yet he still came to see me every day and brought Charlie in tow.  Those days were tough for everyone, but he never complained.  I can't say the same for myself!  When it became clear I would be spending Thanksgiving in the hospital, Rick was undeterred.  He cooked the entire meal himself (most of it Wednesday after leaving the hospital at 8:00 PM that night).  Thursday morning he brought me homemade pumpkin muffins and we watched the parade.  He took Charlie home for a nap, cooked a turkey, and returned that afternoon with a Thanksgiving feast!  Nurse after nurse commented on how hard it must be for my husband since I was in the hospital and he wouldn't have a warm cooked meal.  Little did they know, he's the amazing cook and did it all despite our situation!
That night it started to become clear that the twins may decide to arrive sooner than expected.  And of course, come Friday they made that perfectly clear.  They were coming.  Ready or not.  Because it was Thanksgiving weekend, we had very few friends in town, and zero family.  Rick's mom had returned home early Thanksgiving morning and my mom wasn't scheduled to arrive until Sunday.  Luckily she made the decision to come Friday afternoon instead.  That still didn't help when I called him at 6:45 AM to let him know we were having babies that day and he better get here stat if he wanted to make it in time.  He woke Charlie up, gathered his things, drove him to our friend Suzanne's house, and made a beeline for the hospital.  He arrived a little after 8AM at the babies were born via c-section at 8:52 and 8:53.
Now the real fun began.  I always have to make life more difficult than it is meant to be, so while he was tending to the babies and learning about life in the NICU, I was hemorraging and getting 5 blood transfusions.  Now he had a two year old at a friend's house, premature twins in the NICU, and a wife about to bleed out in recovery.  My recovery was going to be a process that took a few days so Rick spent them schleping back and forth between the NICU and Labor and Delivery.  Of course these two units are not only on different floors but technically in different hospitals joined together.  The walk took at least five minutes and three elevators to complete.  I remember the first time he wheeled me (it was way too far of a walk) from my room to the babies room, I was so lost and couldn't believe he had been making this trip over and over again.  Not only had he been going back and forth himself, but once I became wheel chair mobile, he had to get me to and from successfully while maintaining my schedule and getting me back in time for my assessments and meds without missing Care time for the twins.  Are you exhausted yet?  I think I'm still processing how hard this must have been.  And let's not forget finding time to spend with Charlie!
By the time I first met the babies Rick had become a NICU pro.  I dubbed him Mr. NICU.  I will never forget the flood of emotions that overcame me watching him take their temps, change their diapers, and switch out their oxygen monitors.  Because I was in a wheel chair and could barely stand up, I couldn't do anything but watch.  This was heart breaking for me as a mom.  Most moms get to immediately hold their children and begin nursing them, while it had been a day and a half and I was just now meeting them.  All I could do was stare at them through a plastic case while Rick tended to them.  It would have been easy to fall into despair and I almost did.  It was hard.  But, it was also amazing and heart warming to know that my husband was in total control.  I couldn't believe how confident he was with these tiny little humans.  Once I was up and about he taught me how to do everything for Care time which happens every three hours.  This is when you can touch the babies, change their diapers, take their temps, and they get fed.  He knew what every beep of the monitors meant, what their temp range should be, and pointed me in the direction of the coffee maker.  He was a pro.
Once I was released, we spent the next week going to and from the hospital.  I couldn't drive or carry anything so he was my chauffeur and my pack mule.  I also didn't have the stamina to last much longer at the NICU than 5pm.  So he'd drive me home and then head back to the hospital until at least 11:30 every night only to wake up and do it all over again.  And not once did he mention work to me.  If you know Rick, or know Enterprise, that is truly exceptional.  He spent that entire week consumed by the babies and Charlie.  Nothing else mattered.
Monday rolled around and he had to get back to work.  Someone has to make money to pay for this nice long stay in the NICU!  I knew it was going to be hard for him to not see the twins all day and it was.  In fact come 5:00PM that day I got a phone call that he was on his way to the hospital to see them.  The twins were so alert the entire time he was there.  They missed him too.
Tonight Rick has a meeting, but he's coming to the hospital for 8:00 PM Care time.  There's no stopping Mr. NICU.
Charlie, Eloise, George, and I are so damn lucky.

Giving Thanks

Tis' the season to stop and reflect on the things in your life you are grateful for.  This seems like the perfect exercise for me as I sit in my hospital bed (day three of hospital visit number two) trying to cook these twins a bit longer.  So here it goes:

I am thankful for:
The cerclage surgery I had at 21 weeks.  Those two stitches seem to be the only things holding my precious 29 week 6 day old babies in at this point.  Technology is truly amazing.  And thank you to the first woman to ever experiment with this procedure.  Boy was she brave.

A mother-in-law who dropped everything to fly out and watch Charlie over the next couple of days so Rick could work.  A father-in-law and sister-in-law who are understanding of her leaving even if it could mean missing out on a home cooked Thanksgiving meal.  (But I really hope it won't!!)

Parents who will do anything to support me and make me smile.  A mother who will drive out here at a moment's notice and stay for weeks on end.  (She's coming Sunday!) And a father who will near starve to death from her being gone:-)  Grill a steak Dad.

A husband who takes it all on as life as we know it changes in a split second.  One moment you're planning a relaxing Sunday and looking forward to watching the Broncos game, and the next you're juggling a wife in the hospital, a son who began potty training 5 days prior (best.timing.ever.) and a work schedule that gets it's busiest during the holidays.

Friends who will drop everything to be there to watch your son even when they have a newborn plus their own two year old to boot as well as their own family in town and holiday to prepare for.

Nurses who take the time to talk to you because they can sense you're feeling down.  I had two particularly great ones last night who sat down and for 20 minutes just let me talk about things.  It had been a particularly emotional day and that felt really good.

A resilient son who enters my hospital room each day with a big smile on his face and shouts, "Hello mom!"  Best moment of every day.  His snuggles bring such joy and help remind me why this is all worth it.

Wine.  I haven't had any yet.  But I think about it a lot and am grateful for it's existence.  It's a small gift I can't wait to give myself when this is all over!

Our health.  I recognize it is easy to get caught up in the "woe is me" of this situation.  And don't for a second think I haven't.  Yesterday I did a lot of "woeing".  But today is a new day and I am reminded that I have two healthy babies growing inside me, a healthy family at home, as well as healthy extended family and friends.  "This too shall pass," as they say.  I'm looking forward to this all being a distant memory, but for now feel grateful that we are healthy.

Christmas.  Or for now the Christmas spirit.  Nothing brightens a mood more than Christmas movies, songs, cookies, decorations, etc.  I look forward to getting out of here (hopefully Wednesday) and decorating the house with my mom. (Or really watching her decorate is more realistic.)  And while the imminent arrival of twins during the holidays brings on a host of added stress, I am still thankful that the greatest gift of all, life, could be given to us during such a beautiful season.

Ambien.  Between random sirens going off, nurses providing meds at all hours of the night, and the thousands of thoughts racing through my head, ambien has been a life saver.

Books.  It's always nice to be able to escape from reality and enter the vivid, complicated life of a fictional character, if for only awhile.

Steroid shots.  Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine I'd be saying I was thankful for shots, but in this case I am.  Steroid shots allow the lungs of our twins to develop faster in the event of an early delivery. Again, so thankful for advancements in medicine.

The passage of time.  Sounds strange but every new day is one day farther along in this whole process. While I often try to remind myself to live in the moment, these days I'm just thankful that time continues on it's merry way.  Tomorrow I will be 30 weeks and that's a great milestone.  32 would be even better.  Keep moving time!

I know I'm forgetting a million and one things I should be grateful for, but this is a good start.  Off to learn about medical grade breast pumps, then it's time for my first pool therapy session.  No, there will be no photo documentation of me in the pool.  Some things are best left undocumented.

My Own Best Advocate

Yesterday I became acutely aware of the speed at which your emotions can swing from one extreme to another.  Wednesday was a hellish day full of fear, pain, and unknowns but it also happened so fast I had little time to digest any of it.  I was in a fog.  Then came Thursday.  After minimal sleep I woke up feeling lonely, overwhelmed and full of fear.  It dawned on me that this is the most time I'd had in a room alone since before Charlie had been born.  Sure the first couple of hours of reading were great, but that was quickly followed by an overwhelming feeling of loneliness.  This was also on the heels of missing out on trick or treating with Charlie and his buddies.  Rick did a great job of face timing me and taking pictures, but it obviously wasn't the same.  That night I did my best to compartmentalize those feelings ie block it out.  But morning came and those feelings came storming in with a vengeance.
My OB came in early that Thursday morning and as if on a whim asked, "So do you want to go home today?" What?? Yes, of course I did but I had just been told by the perinatologist the day before that I'd be in the hospital for at least a week and we'd recheck my cervix and go from there.  Now my OB wanted me to make a decision to go home based on what?  I needed Rick there to listen and help make these decisions, but unfortunately he wasn't there.  I fumbled with my words, hoping I'd made sense to her.  She seemed to flit about the room as if unaware of what I regarded to be the severity of my situation.  "Alright, well we'll just wait until Monday then."  She left.  I was alone again in my hospital bed so confused as to what had just happened.  Wasn't it her job to consult with the specialist and provide me a recommendation for care?  I spent the rest of the morning in tears over my role in all of this.  I realized then and there that I'd have to be my own best advocate which felt difficult without being an expert in pre term labor.  I immediately texted a friend who I knew would provide me some answers.
Ivory, the mom of the two little girls I nannied for the past year is all too familiar with hospital bed rest.  She delivered her first daughter Emma at 28 weeks.  I started rattling off questions via text.  Her responses immediately calmed me down and also gave me an inner strength I knew I'd been missing.  She suggested getting in contact with the specialist and reviewing the plan.  Why hadn't I thought of that?  She also reminded me to stay away from the tuna salad at lunch.  She's invaluable!  I took her advice and finally summoned the courage to talk to a nurse about my feelings.  (Why I felt nervous about this I don't really know.) But she was great and gave me the down and dirty on my OB...let's just say she doesn't seem to be easy to work with and isn't a nurse favorite.  But she promised she'd talk to the specialist and try to get him in here to see me.  I was immediately relieved.  A couple hours later in walked the doctor.  He sat down and we chatted.  We determined the best course of action was to wait it out at the hospital through the weekend, then get an ultrasound on Monday to check my cervix.  If that all came back stable he was comfortable sending me home with restrictions.
It's now Saturday and I'm feeling much more emotionally stable:-)  I'm trying not to look much past Monday.  We'll see what the ultrasound brings.  Charlie is coming to visit me this afternoon and I can't wait.  He's the light of my life. I know the twins will shine just as bright when they finally arrive.


Here's a pic from Halloween.  Charlie was too busy checking out his loot to look up.  I was so happy he got to go trick or treat with his pals Lucy and Morrison!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

I wish this was a post focused on all the pictures of Charlie in his adorable costume hopped up on sugar running around with his friends.  I'm sure there will be plenty of those pictures, but like you, I'll be seeing them as pictures, not there to watch the scene unfold for myself.
Yesterday I was admitted into the hospital after going into pre term labor or pre term dilation (don't ask me what the difference is).  The night before I started leaking fluid, so early that morning we all headed to the hospital to get things checked out.  Thankfully they determined my water had not broken, but I was in fact having contractions and my cervix (despite the cerclage surgery) had shortened even more.  As a result I'm here for probably the next week.  I was given meds to stop the contractions (which seem to be helping) and steroid shots to help develop the babies lungs.  Yesterday was such a whirlwind I felt like I was in a fog.  I got lots of information from multiple doctors, nurses, friends, and family and just tried to process it all.  I tried not to look more than an hour or two into the future.  Sometimes the future is a scary unknown.
What I determined last night as I lay wide awake at 3:00 am and what continues to ring true this morning is that this too shall pass.  And while it will be hard and emotional and sometimes I'll cry and want to quit, it's all for a much greater purpose. There isn't going to be anything better than hugging my daughter and second born son for the first time.  And as is always the case in difficult times, there is so much support and kindness around me.
Just this morning five little adorable kids came running into my room shouting "Happy Halloween!" At first I thought they'd come to see their pregnant family member and had somehow found their way into my room.  But as their parents trickled in behind them I realized they were here to boost my spirits.  Before I knew it I was doused with gifts; a pumpkin already cleaned out and ready to be carved, a box of goodies that had everything from razors to lotion to a beautiful handmade ornament, and a big bag of toys for Charlie.  I could hardly believe I'd been here 24 hours and I was being given gifts, and by strangers no less!  I felt undeserving but so blessed by the kindness of strangers.  Needless to say Charlie was thrilled.  It's amazing what a random act of kindness can do to lift one's spirits.  Come to find out this program was started by a mom who spent a month and a half here on bed rest.  She started an organization called www.actsofgracefoundation.org where she organizes events to support moms on bed rest, brings them fresh flowers and small gifts and even offers grants to help with medical bills.  Pretty amazing.
As for me, I'm trying this one step at a time.  I could be here for a week or a couple of months.  Time will tell.  But I've got my this blog, lots of books, the needle point pillow I started when pregnant with Charlie (whoops that really got away from me) and lots of supportive family and friends.  I know I'll be OK and that I'm exactly where I need to be to ensure the healthy birth of our twins.

22 Weeks and Going Strong (With the Little Help of a Stitch)

Had a routine ultrasound at 21 weeks only to discover my cervix had shortened 2 cm in 4 weeks.  The ultrasound tech seemed alarmed and immediately left the room to get the doctor.  After a discussion with my OB she seemed less alarmed but concerned enough to send me to a specialist.  After meeting with the perinatologist we determined it was in my best interest to have cerclage surgery.  Meaning he would stitch my cervix up to keep those babies inside.  Sounded less than enjoyable but a better option than hospitalization/bed rest for the next three months.
The surgery went well all things considered.  It's never fun to get an epidural (especially when that giant needle in your back isn't relieving labor pain!) but it was outpatient surgery and I was home by 2:30 that afternoon.  Luckily my mom was able to stay a few extra days to help out.
In the midst of all this I had a baby shower! It was great to celebrate the twins with family and friends.  It felt surreal to open presents filled with pink girl clothes!  These are two lucky babies to have such supportive family and friends around.  Rick and I are finally making progress on the nursery.  The rooms are painted, mobiles have been ordered, and a rug is on it's way!
This weekend we were also blessed with a donated double snap n'go!  I joined a twin group on Facebook and was asking about stroller recommendations.  A women in our neighborhood happened to respond to my post saying she had a double stroller she would be willing to donate.  Score!  Gotta love the generosity of neighbors.
It's starting to feel like fall here. Leaves are changing and there's a chill in the air.  Looking forward to heading to the pumpkin patch with friends this upcoming weekend.  Kids get in free if they're wearing a costume.  We headed to the Halloween store with Charlie this weekend to pick out a costume.  Let's just say this could be an interesting holiday for him.  Everything about Halloween scares him.  We were in and out of that store in mere minutes.  The creepy music was enough to put him over the edge.  He was able to choose a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle costume before making a beeline for the door.  Of course he won't try the costume on, but we have one!
And last but not least, GOOOOOOO BRONCOS! We're 4-0 and it's been incredible.  The Cardinals won the World Series the year Charlie was born. Just saying...

Story Telling

MOPS has officially started again which means I get two and a half uninterrupted adult only hours complete with coffee (decaf for me thanks), free breakfast, and daycare right upstairs!  I also go for the great speakers and occasional craft, but mostly I go to sit in peace and pee whenever I want.

This morning's topic was about the importance of sharing your family story with your children.  There was a study done at Emery that showed children who could answer 20 questions about their families such as "Where did your parents go to high school?" and "Where were your grandparents born" are overall more successful and grounded in their lives because they've grown up belonging to something bigger than themselves.  And it wasn't just about knowing the answers, but about how those answers were learned be it bed time stories, around the dinner table, on a family vacation...these were all seen as providing this unbreakable resilience in children in the face of adversity or tough times.

I can definitely see how this has played an important role in my life.  I always knew there were a multitude of family members who loved me, cared for me, worked hard for me, and sacrificed for me.  They were they to cheer on my successes as well as share in my disappointment at the losses.  And let us not forget, you never wanted to screw up too badly because you'd have to answer to Grandma!  Ultimately the bigger family unit is what you fall back on and it's those quirky family traditions that create a unique bond amongst family members that cannot be broken.  Throughout childhood we often can't or don't appreciate these amazing traditions.  But as a collage student I remember feeling starved for attention to these family nuances created over the years.  Suddenly a Wiltfang Christmas with everyone present at Grandma's house was not desired but necessary.  Cutting down a Christmas tree with my family even if it was the only one left in the forest and was missing branches from my waist down was mandatory because it's what we did every year.  These traditions become our story and shape who we are as people.

It was nice to be reminded that even in these early years as parents when I'd sometimes like to exit the roller coaster that is my two-year-olds emotional self, I am responsible for creating stories with him.  And if I don't do it, someone else will.  It can be hard to live in the moment and enjoy when there are dishes over flowing in the sink and I'm wearing my last pair of clean underwear, but ultimately taking the time to eat a meal together or share a bed time story will resonate with Charlie in the years to come.  Feeling blessed to be reminded of the gift of story telling this morning.  I normally go for the coffee, but today I walked away from MOPS with a renewed vision of my job as a mom.

Family of Three

We recently had our family pictures taken and I am so glad we did.  When you photograph other people for a living you often miss out on taking quality pics of your family that also include you!  It was so special to spend an hour playing with Charlie and Rick in a park up in Firestone, CO while our amazing photographer, Austyn Elizabeth, captured every moment.  We originally intended to purchase a CD with 10 images for a really reasonable price...well that went out the window when we saw the pictures.  They were just too good! And my ever growing baby bump is a constant reminder that this family of three will shortly become a family of five.  You can't put a price on capturing moments right?!  So 47 pictures and a few more dollars later and we're chalk full of beautiful family photos.  I can't wait to get the CD and frame a few of the best.  See the gallery here!

Fendell Family Photos


Today while Charlie and I were having lunch he looked over at our book shelf and reached out for a little platter we have of his hand and footprint at five months old.  Every once in a while I take a moment to look at it and really take in how small his little fingers and toes once were.  So we decided to take the platter down and compare his hands and feet now.  Boy has he grown!  He thought it was so funny and I found it so surreal.

We're heading up to Maine at the end of the week for Cathryn and Jeremy's wedding! It's going to be wonderful to celebrate their marriage.  We are also lucky enough to visit with Jarrett and Whitney and meet their adorable son Henry.  Many pics to come!!

Mixed Bag

Round two of this crazy roller coaster ride of pregnancy is in full swing!  I am excited and terrified at the same time.  IVF was a whole other animal this time around.  In many ways it was much easier because I knew what to expect.  I knew how to inject myself on a daily basis without shedding a tear.  I knew how to apply four estrogen patches a day and how the residue, once you remove them, will stick to your skin for days.  I wasn't shocked when my showers got 10% longer as I begrudgingly scrubbed my stomach raw to rid myself of the "stick".  And then there were the progesterone suppositories.  I think I would rather inject myself with progesterone daily than deal with the thrice daily process of inserting progesterone only to feel it ooze out of my body throughout the day.  TMI I know!  Such is the glamorous life of an IVF patient.
Here's what I wasn't prepared for...the mental toll it would take as I struggled to make such a conscious decision to bring another life into this world.  The first time around you think infertility is the only battle.  You know nothing about sleep deprivation, blistered nipples, toddler temper tantrums, or that you were about to forgo the ability to pee by yourself. Ever. Again.  We now you're well aware of what is to come.  And your mind starts to pump the brakes as you think about what this is all going to be like with a newborn.  Only this time you still have that pesky two-year-old who needs to be fed and entertained regularly...It took me a lot longer (an extra three months) to come to terms with all of it.  But I did.  Hurray!  I probably should have blogged about it long ago.  Clarity would have come a lot faster I'm sure.  But sometimes you have to do things the hard way:-)  And sometimes that toddler and my job just got in the way of finding time to sit down and find the clarity!
Fast forward five weeks and three days after my frozen embryo transfer and here we are, pregnant.  I am thrilled about it.  The hard work paid of, hip hip horray!  Except, that I'm bleeding and cramping and kind of a mess.  The first episode happened before I even had my first HCG blood test.  I thought for sure it meant a big fat fail, but somehow it didn't.  I got a positive HCG test and then another positive test 48 hours later.  That was scary, but we chalked it up to implantation bleeding and moved on...then it happened again, only worse.  I'll leave out the details in case my dad reads this (you're welcome) but it was enough of a scare to send us to the doctor the next day for an ultrasound.  Longest. ultrasound.of.my.life.  At one point the ultrasound tech thought I had an ectopic pregnancy and mentioned how her last patient had to go straight to the emergency room to get her fallopian tube removed.  Awesome.  Turns it it was a cyst. Sigh.  She did see one in tact gestational sac and then there's this other "thing" I'll call it.  It's so early, she was unable to really tell if it's a second sac or not.  But it is also where the bleeding is coming from...oh joy.  She wasn't sure if the possible sac is bleeding, if the whole thing is just blood, or if there is a sac but blood around it/behind it.  I left that ultrasound feeling a mix of emotions.  I am elated that there is a gestational sac in tact and viable (at least so far).  I am distraught and sad for what may be a second that seems to be in distress or no longer viable.  Everyone keeps telling me, "At least there's one good one in there!"  And that sounds like they're telling me I should be OK that one of my kids is dying.  I know that's dramatic.  Cue the mini violin.  It isn't actually a kid yada yada yada.  But it feels like my baby and it feels like my baby is dying and there's nothing I can do about it.  And no one has to see the blood in the toilet every time I go to the bathroom.  And no one has to be reminded about how something is probably wrong as you're having a conversation and suddenly feel a trickle.  I have very supportive family and friends and an amazing husband and an adorable child to distract me, but this is still a lonely place.  At this point all I can do is wait, pray and know that in the end, it is out of my hands.  I never wanted twins.  But now that I'm a mom, waiting to find out how these two embryos are doing is agonizing.  I don't know how to express in words how it feels except to say they are my babies and I need them to be OK.
It is constantly amazing to me how consuming maternal feelings can be.  As I wrap this up my son Charlie is waking from his nap.  I'm listening to the sounds of the kids giggling and splashing in the pool in front of our house.  It sounds like vacation.  Happiness.  I want nothing more than to take Charlie over there and splash around for hours.  That's not in the cards for me today (unless wearing a pad in my swimsuit has suddenly become socially acceptable:-)  So today I'll settle for watching Charlie and his dad splash around.  Hopefully things will return to "normal" soon and I'll be better than new.  Until then...

Lucky

I posted a picture on Instagram today of Charlie at the doctor's office and within a half an hour I had comments from my mom, two aunts, and grandmother.  This isn't a rare occurrence, in fact I've come to expect it, but for whatever reason tonight it gave me pause.  I was suddenly overcome with gratitude for how blessed I am to have such wonderful family in my life.  It's easy to step out into the world every day knowing that whatever happens in life I have the support of such amazing family.  My grandmother is turning 80 years old this summer and we're all venturing to Estes Park, CO to celebrate.  We are so lucky to be a part of a family that loves spending time with one another.  It's going to be a fantastic weekend.  It's nice to be reminded to give thanks:-)

Here's the pic from today.

Bedtime blogging

Things I don't want to forget: Today Charlie asked me to hold him like a baby. Yesterday he pretended to be leaving the house and said, "bye bye mama. See you later. Love you." Every morning he makes sure Rick doesn't forget to get his own smoothie after making his. He gets me a spoon for mine and reminds me to drink my coffee (as if I need reminding!) My new favorite time of the day is between 6-7pm. Charlie shouts "covies!" and we jump into my bed and spend time cuddling and playing iPad games with our drink of choice. His knowledge of letters is already baffling to me. While reading a book to himself he saw the letter "c" and whispered "c for Charlie". He loves saying "thank you" and "ummmm" while thinking hard about something. Every color is still blue despite all my efforts to teach him otherwise:) Tomorrow is his first soccer practice with Daddy. Sweet dreams.

Toilet Journal

At my MOPS (mothers of preschoolers) group today a counselor spoke about "Sanity Savers" in parenting.  I loved a lot of what she had to say, but the advice that stuck with me most was the idea to create what she dubbed the "toilet journal".  As a mom, we rarely have a moment to ourselves.  I am well aware that my blogging frequency subsided after becoming a mom, and I only found time to write this at 10:00 in bed on a Friday night:-)  What I really wanted to do was go to bed and catch 15 more minutes of sleep, but alas her advice reminded me of the importance of journaling.  She said that she kept a journal behind the toilet (gross) the only place she found solace by herself in a house of three young boys.  And there she would write about her day (the good, the bad, the ugly).  These entries were often stories about her boys including the time she found her middle child drinking the toilet water.  Yum!  Her boys are now teenagers and savor every word in their mom's journal.  She even remarked how in the case of a house fire everyone was instructed to save the toilet journal.  Her son is graduating from high school next year and she plans on making him an album of pictures combined with the various stories she told about him growing up.  This reminded me of the importance of taking a moment to jot down the funny things Charlie says and does throughout the day.  Sometimes I get bogged down in having to find a poignant purpose to my blog entry.  What am I learning? Sharing? Expressing? Who  cares?  Those entries are great when I have the time and desire to sit down and write them, but just as important are the little moments I share with Charlie throughout the day.  I hope he is able to look back at this blog (not think I'm crazy) and laugh at all the adorable, ridiculous, horrifying, wonderful, hair pulling moments we experienced together.

Today's Moment;
After falling asleep in the car on the way home from MOPS (a mere 10 minute nap) Charlie decided that was enough rest for one day.  After 45 minutes of screaming in the crib he found himself lounging on the couch with me while the girls slept.  He is a lover of the pacifier and as he lay there sucking, I looked over and watched him remove the paci and stick his index finger in his mouth.  A smile broke out across his face.  "What are you doing?" I inquired.  He laughed and replied, "Mo, mo" (more) and proceeded to move on to the next finger and the next.  I watched his mind work as though pondering the reason why one would choose to suck a thumb.  He tested each one of those fingers like Goldilocks testing the Three Little Bears' porridge giggling throughout the whole experiment.  Finally, after exhaustive research he returned to his one and only love, his pacifier.

Friends

Charlie is lucky enough to spend his days with two sweet girls that I nanny for throughout the week.  Over the past few months they've become really good friends and it warms my heart.  Today we had an impromptu photo shoot in my bedroom while eating apples and performing a ballet.  We're great multi-taskers!

I plan on using Emma as the comic relief for all future Charlie photo shoots.  He thinks she is hilarious!

 Charlie loves hugging Quinn...This is as close as she allowed:-)

Had to share this outtake!

 Lucky for Charlie, Emma loves giving hugs!

Tumbling

Charlie started a tumbling class last week.  The instructors definitely have little knowledge of the developmental stages of a 1 year old.  Last week the kids sat for 20 minutes while the teacher asked each one what their favorite Christmas present was...that was time well spent!  This week the question was, "What is your favorite ball?" Or "What is your favorite sport?"  The kids thought long and hard.  Down the line we went, parents giving the usual answers, "she loves all the balls" or "soccer is her favorite".  I was prepared to deliver a similar answer when Charlie got up and walked away.  He continued walking across the gym until he reached a rack of basketballs (adult size).  He grabbed one, carried it back across the gym, and delivered it to the teacher.  Question answered.  The teacher's assistant (I call him Mr. Incredible because they definitely modeled the Pixar character's stature after this guy) proceeded to take the ball from Charlie, pick up the entire rack of balls, and carry it out of the gym.  I couldn't help but laugh.  You ask an 18 month old what his favorite ball is and he brings you THE BALL!  Genius.

Monday

I knew as soon as my alarm went off that I wasn't ever going to wake up today.  No matter how many cups of coffee I had (and I had 4) I could never shake that lethargic feeling.  I even napped today while Charlie and the girls slept, and I never do that!  I blame the weather.  It has been brutally cold here.  The high was 17 degrees today.  Since Charlie refuses to wear a hat or gloves, days like these are mostly spent indoors.  He's also coming down with a cold, so we skipped our music class today (you're welcome fellow music goers!) and hung out at the house all day.  These are my least favorite kinds of days! One can only read, "Little Blue Truck" so many times before it accidentally finds a home tucked safely away from wandering toddler eyes.  I swear I dream in "Little Blue Truck" phrasing.  I need a hobby.

Tonight I came across this video and found it moving enough to share: 2012 Sportkid of the Year

Asserting Independence

I have a highly sensitive 18 month old.  As long as we've been going to music class, gym class, and regular play dates, I've noticed Charlie's temperament in group settings.  He is cautious and very observant.  In music he rarely participates in the singing, clapping, or dancing. At times you wonder if he's even enjoying himself at all.  Then at home I'll notice him dancing, singing, and repeating movements introduced by Ms. Tonya during class weeks before.  During play dates and birthday parties he usually doesn't feel comfortable playing or leaving my lap until we're reading to pack up and head home.  I did some research months ago and discovered that the highly sensitive child is a temperament.  In fact around 12% of the population would be categorized as being highly sensitive.   There's a great book by Elaine Aron that does a good job of explaining this temperament and also how to nourish children with what they need to be successful later in life.  As a non highly sensitive person, this can, at times, be especially difficult for me.  Reading the book has definitely helped give me tools to set Charlie up for success.  Not only that, but pretty much every man in my life is highly sensitive so I have lots of people to go to for advice!  It's been a great learning experience in how to relate to people who are different from me.  The learning continues!

It's interesting how my understanding or lack of understanding goes in waves.  This past week has been rough.  I have an 18 month old who I know is highly sensitive and I try to come at every situation with the knowledge of what that means in the back of my head.  However sometimes I struggle with how to react to certain behaviors.  Recently he seems to be asserting his independence and knowledge that he can say no, throw a tantrum, or refuse something.  How far to push?  When to force?  When to give in?  Sigh.  The joys of motherhood!  Our biggest battle happens at nap time.  You'd think there were sharks in his crib waiting to gobble him up with how frantically he tries to wrap himself around my leg and dig his fingernails into my back to keep from being swallowed up whole.  Once I'm able to pry him off my body he screams bloody murder and refuses to lay down.  This from the kid who has loved napping in his own crib since he was 5 months old!  Yesterday he screamed for TWO HOURS.  He refused to lay down, fell asleep standing up only to be startled awake and scream again.  I finally had to rock him to sleep.  Took 30 minutes of rocking for him to take a 40 minute nap.  By 4:00 I was ready for a glass of wine.  

He is very communicative, but I wish he could formulate the words to express what is going through his head.  I don't know if he's struggling with separation anxiety (which he has had since he was about 8 months old), if he had a bad dream and is now afraid, or if he just knows it's something he can fight me on now.  As the parent of a highly sensitive kid I am constantly reminded that my reaction to a situation can make or break the way the rest of the conflict unfolds.  One misstep and I have a full fledge tantrum on my hands.  Today I tried bribery.  It worked with his diaper changes.  I gave him a sticker if he would let me change him without crying.  Success!  Nap time bribery, unsuccessful.  

As I write this, Charlie did finally lay down.  I feel like I won the lottery.  LIVING THE DREAM!  Now if only he could explain to me why he chose to give in...

As crazy and overwhelming as his recent tantrums have been, he is also the sweetest, kindest, most loving kid on the planet.  This is him playing peek-a-boo in the bathtub last night.  Love those baby blues!

Today we went to Little Monkey Bizness.  A few weeks ago he was too timid to go down this slide by himself.  Not today!  I was so proud of him.

This is his new favorite book.  If you have a toddler or young kids it's a great one!  It's called, "Press Here" and it's an interactive story.  The books asks you to do different things like clapping (Charlie in the pic), pressing dots, shaking the book, or blowing on it and you turn the page to see the result.  Pretty cool!

Happy New Year!

I am not usually one for New Year's resolutions...I always find myself making them with the best intentions only to break them by the time spring rolls around.  However, I am determined to do a better job of blogging about life.  I originally used this blog as a personal diary/therapist.  I poured my heart out about infertility, IVF, and other ramblings and the blogging world listened silently (just the way I like it:-)  However, I have come to realize that as soon as things in life got "better" i.e. we had a beautiful baby boy, moved back to Denver, and went about living life as parents, I tossed my therapy sessions to the curb.  I WAS CURED!  Much like we find ourselves praying the most when we "need" something, I found myself blogging the most when I knew I needed it.  But in the last six months, I found myself needing something I could not label. I felt uneasy, unsure, and at time lacking confidence.  Did I need a job? Check.  I'm now nannying for two sweet girls and have a little photography business on the side.  This did alleviate that guilty feeling we stay-at-home mothers feel about buying a Starbucks only to feel undeserving of it.  I hate that feeling!  But I needed something else.  Exercise?  Definitely.  I'm still working on that one, but I have been getting up early to get in a quick 30 minute work out before starting my day.  And I do feel better when I do that.  The more and more I have thought about this, it has become clear that I miss blogging.  It's good for me.  Life becomes funny when I talk about it/write about it, even if it wasn't funny when it happened.  I start to take myself too seriously when I don't blog.  So...

Dear Diary,
I resolve to blog routinely about the mundane events in my daily life.  I resolve to find the humor in the every day and to learn from it.  So here it goes!

I'll start with this quick tid bit.  Charlie had his first bout of stomach flu this past weekend.  It started at 11:00pm.  Rick and I were watching a movie (5 Year Engagement which I highly recommend!)  Suddenly we heard him cry.  It wasn't that whimper of a child who wakes up and cries himself softly back to sleep.  This was the ear piercing cry of pain.  We checked the monitor to find Charlie sitting in his crib playing with his pacifier.  At least that's what we thought...  I ran upstairs to find he was in fact puking all over himself with his hands reaching into his mouth to remove the puke.  I was instantly terrified.  Molly and I have discussed our fear of this moment at length.  We have a few friends who's children have had their first stomach bugs and we knew it was bound to happen, but we were both freaked out by the proposition.  What do you do?  How do you get through it?  Will we puke when we see them puke?  Can they puke in a toilet?  Well, all of these questions were answered that night.  No, they cannot puke in a toilet.  No, you will not puke when they do, although for days afterward my mouth watered reliving the whole thing.  I think the worst part is that a 17 month old does not understand what is happening.  One second you're sleeping and the next there is something in your mouth that has every intention of coming out.  Charlie could not figure out how to get through it without using his hands as shovels. And this is how I ended up with my son's puke in my mouth.  I'll let you take a moment to let that register.  Yep.  It happened.  If I have one piece of advice for the mother of a puking child it would be, breathe through your nose and keep your mouth shut.  I think this was the third or four time Charlie puked that night.  By then Rick and I had devised some sort of semblance of a plan.  We set up shop on our bed (covered in towels).  When Charlie puked we would lean him over a towel so we could puke into it, then we'd change the towel and wait for the next bout.  Unfortunately, this time Charlie used his shovel hands successfully only to flail his arm over his head, his hand landing precisely in my mouth, as if spoon feeding me a delicious meal.  I'm still in shock over it.  And yet, the power of motherhood allowed me to not only survive it, but to continue holding my sick son throughout the night, covered in puke with little but a paper towel to wipe my face.  I'm happy we have that first stomach bug incident past us.  Charlie was a trooper.  12 hours later he was nearly good as new.  I can't say the same for his parents!

Happy New Year!