A Sick Baby and A Crazy Lady

My sweet little Fussy Pants has every right to be fussy.

The poor baby is getting her two front teeth, she has a bad cough, the doctor says her throat is raw, her nose is running, she's dehydrated and she has an ear infection. Oh, and she's just getting over the stomach flu. I'd say she's sick.

Presley woke up around 2:30 a.m. this morning to nurse. When I was done, I just couldn't get back to sleep. I was tossing and turning thinking about how bad I feel for putting her in situations and places that exposed her to such dreadful illnesses. Ok, it's not like I put her in the middle of a hospital waiting room and let her lick the floor or anything.. but she has been to a few nurseries where not every child in there is the poster child of good health.

I just laid there thinking.. we are not leaving our house for two weeks. For two weeks we are locked inside. Sure, we'll miss out on a ton of fun stuff.. but my poor child does not need to be exposed to one more germ! She was, after all, in the NICU for ten days. Her poor little body cannot handle it! She might have to be admitted to the hospital, or worse air flighted to Children's Mercy. I mean, she is really sick. I just laid there thinking these terrible things. I even woke up Craig telling him he must stay home from work today because we are going to have to be at the doctor first thing and I just don't know what will happen next so he needs to be home to care for our other children. I think he just fell right back to sleep.

After it was obvious he had little care and concern for the well-being of his precious little ten month old, I got up and checked the humidifier in her room. It was fine... but I still added some more water to it, just in case. I prayed over her tired little body sleeping so soundly in her crib.

I went back to bed, laid there some more.. all the while thinking about how I needed to get sleep because if I'm tired and run down, then my body will be susceptible to illness and I couldn't be sick for my little girl!

I just kept praying, dear Lord.. please let me sleep. If I don't sleep I know I'll get sick, my milk supply will run out.. and then Presley will get even more sick because she will not have the extra line of defense from her mother's milk. Come on God, knock me out.

I wonder what God was thinking during my little freak out episode. Chill out lady, I've got it covered. Have a little faith, would ya? I've healed a lot sicker peeps.. remember that dude with leprosy in the Bible? He was fine. Trust me.

I did end up going to sleep. I tried to think about something totally brainless.. I actually started thinking about that wack-job governor from Illinois and that did the trick. I think I was out in about 30 seconds.

This morning when I woke up, I was not quite as dramatic. I knew that Presley needed to get to the doctor. But I did realize it wasn't life or death. She wasn't gasping for air or anything. I did, however, force myself to drink an entire quart of Mother's Milk tea in about 20 minutes. Gag. Needless to say, I've been running to the bathroom quite a bit today.

Presley's on her first anti-biotic now. She's had some Tylenol. I'll think we'll make it through this one. But how I will ever survive the next 21 years with three children is beyond me. God, get ready.

Two wrecks in two weeks

I ran into the side of my house today.  I was whipping around the driveway and all of a sudden, I heard 'that sound'.  The sound that makes you think, 'did I just hit something?'  

You get out, assess the damage, prepare yourself for the worst, but hope for the best.  Trying to tell yourself, 'it's really not THAT bad.'  When you know deep down, it's bad.

The bright spot to this evening's little 'run in' is that the side of my car that I damaged is already damaged.  You see, I had another little 'incident' about a week ago.  

It was a dark, rainy morning (6:34 a.m. to be exact).  I had to hurry into Walmart to buy a birthday gift.  I was once again, whipping my little mini-van into a parking spot and I heard 'the sound'.  

I got out, checked my car.. didn't see anything at first and thought, 'oh thank you Jesus.'  Then my eyes moved a little further down my car and there it was.  A dent far greater than I ever could've imagined.  It started at the sliding passenger door and extended all the way to the bumper.  Wow.  'Is this a dream,' I thought.  This can't really be happening to me.

When you hit a parked car, several things go through your mind.  First, did anyone see me.  Can I get away with this.  Second, are there surveillance cameras.  Third, if I leave a note, maybe I'll write my name and number really poorly, maybe even with my left hand, so they can't read what it says.  That way my guilty conscience will feel better that I left a note.. and yet they'll never be able to contact me.  

Then, I heard Him.  You guessed it.  God.  He decided to speak to me clear as day.  It came right at the moment that I was about to pull away.  Leave a note, He told me.  Tell them your sorry.  Write your name and number.  

Man, why is it when I really NEED the Lord to speak to me, I can't always hear him.  Or I question whether it's REALLY Him.  And when I don't WANT to hear him, His voice couldn't be louder.  Seriously God.  I do not want to do this.  'No, no, no,' I thought.

So I did what He said.  I even left my information on the back of coupon for an oil change.  A nice gesture I thought.

When I got home from my Walmart wreck, I was a mess.  I went into the living room, sat on the couch and cried.  I did not go near my phone.  I think I even turned it on silence so I couldn't hear it.  I had no interest in talking to the driver of the other car.

A little later, I mustered up the courage to check my phone.   I had a text message.  This is the exact text, "It's ok.  Just an old beater work truck.  Thanx 4 leavin a note."  Ok, what?!  Seriously?!  If you don't believe me, it's still saved on my phone.  Hello, Lord?  Was that YOUR truck I hit?

So fortunately, I have not had the time to get my car fixed.  Therefore the new dent just blends right in with the 'old' one.  

I'm not quite sure what God wanted me to learn from hitting the side of my house tonight.  Other than stop trying to whip around in a mini-van.  When I told my husband about it on the phone, there was a deafening silence.  I thought he hung up on me.  Then he laughed a little.  And so did I. 

Hold Me!

Right after Piper was born, I remember reading something that stated, 'babies like to be held a lot.' So, I did (with Piper and Brooks).. and I do (with Presley). But is it possible that you can hold your child too much?

If Presley sees me.. any kind of glimpse of me.. if she hears me.. anything related to me.. and I'm NOT holding her.. wow. Watch out. It is a scream fest. For example, I could be gone for an hour.. Presley is happy as a clam. The second I return home --- Presley starts screaming her head off. What is up with that??!!

I love holding her.. really I do. But there are times when frankly it's just not possible. I find myself sneaking from room to room sometimes.. or whispering so she can't hear me. It never works. Ever.

I am toying with the idea of wearing a mask around. Especially when I am trying to make dinner. That's when she gets really ticked off if I don't hold her. I frequently have to put her in the backpack to console her. She will probably know how to cook spaghetti perfectly by 18 months.

Craig tells me to let her cry. Some of my friends tell me to let her cry. But how?! It sends me completely over the edge. The one time I DID let her cry.. I walked over to her a few minutes later and she cut her hand. I felt like the worst mommy ever.

She is 9 1/2 months and she is still not crawling. It's probably because I hold her all of the time. I keep telling myself, crawling is not a milestone, so it's fine. But is that healthy? Am I just kidding myself? Probably.

She is sitting in the exersaucer not three feet from me right now.. crying.. or more like screaming. It's time to make dinner. We are indeed having spaghetti. Better get the backpack.

Potty Training Wall-e Style

I've always heard that potty training a boy is so hard.  Boys are far more resistant than girls.  Boys pee all over the place.  It's a mess.  Have your Clorox wipes handy.  Put Cheerios in the toilet and have them 'aim' for it.  The advice, the pessimism, the frustration.. all of it.  I heard it all.  Other moms bemoaning how difficult it was to get their little guy to just do it.  To potty in the darn toilet.  Just be done with diapers.  Man, I get it.  I have two in diapers.  How awesome would it be to just have one.  One less 'stink' to deal with.  That's huge.  Well, we started to just experiment with Brooks recently.  We were hoping maybe, just maybe, he might be ready.  We bought him some Cars pull-up's.. I bought a potty training calendar complete with Elmo stickers.. we got all super excited for him.. and he was so not interested.  We tried putting him on the toilet.. he freaked out.  I think he was afraid of falling in.  Finally, if his sister was sitting in the bathroom with him, he would at least sit on the toilet.  She would bring him books to look at.  He would sit there so long, she would eventually get herself a book to look at as well.  Pretty soon it became a routine.  Piper would ask him, 'Brooks ya gotta go potty?'  He would say, 'yes,' and they would go into the bathroom and read together.  But still, no real progress.  He wasn't really 'going'.  It was just a chance for them to sit and chat and read some books together.  Craig and I were thinking we needed to go back to diapers.  "He's just not ready," we would say.  And then about three days ago we were at Kohl's.  In order to get Piper and Brooks to behave, I bribed them.  They could pick out one special treat (under $5 of course).  Piper picked out something for her hair.. and I highly encouraged Brooks to pick out some 'big boy pants' to perhaps inspire him.  That's when he spotted Wall-e.  Wall-e underpants.  "I want to wear Wall-e!!" He said with massive enthusiasm!!   The rest is history.  We got Wall-e home, washed them, he put them on.. and bam.  That was it.  He was basically potty trained.  My only instruction, "Don't potty on Wall-e."  So he hasn't (ok, he has had one accident, but he was wearing Thomas undies then).  We're not brave enough to let him sleep through the night yet without a pull-up on.  But, since Wall-e, every morning he wakes up.. he's dry.  Never in a million years would I have ever thought that Wall-e would have such an impact on our lives.  I don't even know what the movie is about.  Not a clue.  It's just some little robot that spells his name funny.  I feel like writing to the makers of Wall-e.. your movie potty trained my son (I wonder what kind of reaction that would get).  What's interesting is.. Brooks has only seen the movie once, and that was months ago at the theatre.  It must have made a huge impact.  Hopefully this is a sign of good things to come for us when trying to teach Brooks how to do things.  When he's learning to drive, we can just pop in the movie Cars.  When he wants to cook, he can watch Ratatouille.  If only it would always be that simple.      

Presley's Rockin' New Year's Eve

We have finally figured out what TRULY makes Presley happy. It's taken nine months, but we've finally cracked the code. It's all so clear now. We're not very proud of it. But it is what it is. Our sweet little child.. is undeniably a party animal. She loves rock n' roll.. lots of people.. the crazier the party, the happier she is. We took her (reluctantly) to two New Year's Eve parties last night (kids were included so I guess they weren't THAT crazy). We were prepared to put her down in the pack n' play when she started to get tired. We brought her white noise CD, including her CD player. We had all of her favorite toys. Her PJ's, you name it. All the comforts of home. We were hoping for the best (in terms of whether she would be fussy or not, actually sleep, etc), but prepared for the worst. Realistically, we thought we would put her down for a little while, then probably end up leaving because she would throw a fit. Well, wonders never cease. We could never have imagined or predicted what happened last night. At the first party, she was starting to get a little fussy around 7:00 pm. I thought, ok, our window is closing. We will only have a little longer to celebrate New Year's Eve with our friends.. we'll be home by 8:30, Presley will go down in her own bed, Craig and I will force ourselves to stay up to watch the ball drop in New York. It wouldn't be a big deal. We've rarely stayed up until midnight on New Year's Eve in the past.. what's one more year. Well, around 8:30ish she was still 'somewhat' content. Certainly a little fussy, but hanging in there (she goes to bed at 6:30 by the way). So we decided we would hit our next party. Well, the second party was apparently a little more lively. You see, we had taken our 'American Idol' Wii game to both parties. Our friends at the first party were certainly rock stars, but the people at the second party could really rock it out. And Presley went wild. She was as happy as I've ever seen her. She was dancing (literally dancing, she LOVES to dance), 'talking' (she was trying to judge the 'performers'. Watch out Paula!), 'cheering' (she would say 'yeah, yeah'), and laughing quite a bit (although, it was interesting she wasn't 'laughing' at my performances - because I was so good of course - only her dad's.) She was having a ball. Our other children were not nearly as happy. Piper was so tired she basically laid on the chair, Brooks was acting highly irritable if he didn't get his own way. But not Presley. She was in her element. She loved every second of her Rockin' New Year's Eve. It was unreal. To say we were shocked would be an understatement. This was 'her' night. I think if we would've handed her the microphone, she would've really lit the stage on fire. She rallied until about midnight.. and then she finally started to fade. That was ok, because Craig and I were certainly fading fast too.. and Piper and Brooks had faded long before. The holiday season is certainly considered the season of miracles... but we never thought an answer to prayer (Presley to stop screaming so often) would come during a New Year's Eve party. Well, it certainly looks like we'll be going out a lot more now.

The Morning After

You know when you leave a party.. you get into the car.. and you can't wait to ask your husband, "Did she REALLY say that?" That was certainly the case for me last night. However, the question wasn't did she really say that.. the question was more like, "Did I really say that?" Ugghh. We received a gift.. a very personal sweet gift that someone spent a lot of time on. Everyone at the party got one. It was our 'party favor' so to speak. This sweet person went to a lot of trouble to make these wonderful ornaments with a picture of each couple on it. It was such a great idea. Very creative, very thoughtful. However, the picture that Craig and I sent to her wasn't exactly ideal for the amount of space on the ornament. You see, these hand crafted ornaments were a surprise to us. We were only told to send a picture of the two of us. Something extremely difficult to do since we have none. The only recent picture we have of just us was taken as I was being wheeled into the operating room for Presley's birth. Considering we were both in surgical gear and I was the size of a barn, that's not exactly the picture we wanted to send. The picture we ended up finding was from three years ago at Christmas. It was a close up of me and Craig. Apparently, it was so close that our heads were too big so they asked us to send another picture. Aside from using our wedding picture from seven years ago, we have none. So this sweet little crafty mama used what she had. She had nothing else to go on. She had lemons so she was attempting to make lemonade. Her husband later told us she spent days on it. Cutting, pasting.. trying to get it perfect. The problem was, because of the photo we sent, perfection was not attainable. So, God love her, she cut my head out.. and glued it next to a much smaller photo of Craig. My head looked quite large next to his.. nearly 3D. When we received the gift, instead of opening it and being gracious.. we opened it and died of laughter. We made several little jokes about it.. she has a marvelous sense of humor and laughed as well.. and then came the big whammy. I actually said to her, laughing, trying to be funny, trying to be a comic, thinking I was the funniest person in room, "Did you make this and actually think, 'Wow, they will really love it!'" Ok, what?!?! Who is that rude?!?! Who would ever have the nerve to make such a comment. I mean seriously! For the love of Peter, Paul and Mary - who says that?! I would love to blame it on the alcohol. But I just had one glass of wine. I did however drink an entire pitcher of Crystal Light. Maybe the aspartame made me say it. Maybe aspartame has some 'stupid comment' side effect when consumed in large quantities. Maybe I'll write to the makers of aspartame asking them to put a warning on the product so others can avoid such tragedies. Later when my husband and I got into the car, I asked the big question. I was somehow hoping maybe I didn't in fact say it. That it was just a bad dream. Unfortunately he informed me, I indeed opened my big mouth and inserted my foot. It was a long car ride home. An hour and a half actually. This morning when I woke up I felt terrible. I wish it was that terrible hang over feeling because it would go away. Unfortunately it's that terrible, "I can't believe I really said that" feeling that only goes away over time. A long, long time. I'm debating whether to send flowers, a card, chocolate, wine, a new car. Next year, if we're invited, I will drink lots of alcohol. Then if I say something stupid maybe I won't remember it. The long car ride home won't be so painful. The next morning won't be so brutal. We have another Christmas party tonight. I know what I won't be drinking (Crystal Light is the devil) and saying.

The 'New' Bedroom Set

When I was about ten or eleven years old, my parents bought me a new bedroom set. It was very special to me. We went to several stores in Topeka to find some furniture.. but they didn't have anything I liked. I wanted white wicker.. and nothing else. So, one evening after my parents got home from work, we drove all the way to Kansas City to look for one. It was a thrill because we rarely went to Kansas City.. I got to stay up late.. and I would soon be done with my hand-me-down furniture that looked like it could implode at any given moment. I was so excited once my white wicker furniture arrived. Everyone who came over 'got' to see it. I absolutely loved it. Twenty years later that same bedroom set now sits in Piper's room. Craig and I put it in there recently. When we were cleaning it up for her, it was funny to think back on all the little markings that are on it today. When I got my Laura Ashley bedding (a huge deal back in the 80's.. it was like wearing Izod when you were a kid) I proudly displayed the Laura Ashley stickers on the side of my dresser. Part of those stickers are still there (we are working on removing them.. they're not so cool today!). When I was in middle school I taped up pictures of my friends on the hutch above my desk.. when I took down the pictures, a little bit of paint peeled off with it. It's still there. On one of the shelves I used to have a tiny little black and white TV that only got one or two channels.. and only if the antenna was placed in just the right spot. The scratches from moving the TV around to get a decent signal are still there. It's funny to see Piper so excited about 'her new' bedroom set. She too takes everyone up to see it when they come over. I wonder what marks she'll make on it. The memories she'll have from it. Today I just laid in her (my) bed thinking about all those marks and what they represented. New memories that Piper and I will share together.