Little Let-Downs

Ever since October, Sadie has been saving her money for something she really wants. Ideas have come and gone, most recently she wanted Kayak Joe from REI, but then she decided on a doll. It was a doll that her sister and her cousin have and it seemed like a good idea. Today we talked about it, counted her money (I was surprised she had 4 five dollar bills, 5 one dollar bills, and eight quarters), looked online and realized she could get the doll at a store by us. So, this evening we took a bike ride to get some groceries and smoothies and Sadie brought along her money to see if she could convince us to go get the doll.

Well, the bike trailer was full of kids and groceries, dinner needed to be fixed, and Jack and Maisy were losing patience with all the stopping. So, we agreed that after dinner, when the little ones were in bed, we would drive back to the store and get the doll. And I'm not sure Sadie has ever been more helpful. Kids in bed, table cleared, I told her to run up and get her shoes while I loaded the dishwasher. Then came the tears. Her money had been in her back pocket and now all that was left were the ones and quarters. Evan re-rode the path we took, I searched the house, and Sadie and Ella looked in the backyard. Sadie said half-a-dozen prayers, I called the stores we had stopped at earlier, but no money.

She went to bed crying and I feel awful, but what do I do? Seriously, help me. Do I give her the money at the risk of always having to replace lost money? Do I hide $20 somewhere and pretend we found it? Or do I come up with a bunch of chores for her to quickly earn the money? I feel bad but I also realize that there are little disappointments that come up in life. Sometimes things don't work out like we planned. I just wasn't prepared to see that kind of disappointment all over sweet Sadie's face.

**not for the faint at heart

Last Saturday (I couldn't even post about it until a week into the healing process) Jack split his head open. After much debate I escorted Jack and Evan to the car with instructions to go to the ER.
But then I got a phone call and my tough guys were at the grocery store buying butterfly bandages. One hour, a shaved section of head, and swelling later, it was obvious that more than butterfly bandages should have been used, but it was too late to go get stitches.

At least the scar will be hidden by hair and it has healed really well. And well, stitches are pretty traumatic, right.

*Update: It really has healed well:

"No, That's Mine!"

I kind of forgot about the "MINE!" phase.

What I wish I were doing...

I so badly want to be baking right now. There is fabric on the floor, the kids are in bed, the oven is still warm from dinner and I am playing solitaire in an attempt to resist the call of chocolate chips in the freezer. You see, I have been exercising and watching what I eat for over a week now and I have gained three pounds. I wouldn't say that I am terrible at either of these things, after all I chase four little ones all day and keep up pretty well. However, there is a residual fifteen pounds lingering that I would like to see disappear and I can't carry both my little ones at the same time like I used to. I do realize that they have gotten bigger, but I haven't gotten smaller. And I would like to.

So I will try not to bake cookies tonight, but if I show up at your door tomorrow with a plate, you know why.

Pop

A couple of days ago, I was laying in bed trying to get up and face the day. The kids were all awake, but they were either playing in there rooms or like me, staying warm under the covers. All of a sudden Jack started to cry, it was loud and unexpected. I was jumping out of bed when Ella ran in and asked if she could go get him. I told her yes as I grabbed my robe. Jack came running into my room crying and saying something that sounded like "I pop." I ran through all the things it could be while trying to calm him down, but he kept responding, "No, I pop, Momma." He said that he had a boo boo and wanted me to kiss his hand. Finally, we settled on threw up (I'm not sure how we came to that conclusion, but that was what he hesitantly said yes to) but I couldn't find any evidence of that.

Later as I put Maisy down for a nap, I realized that the power was out in her room and Jack's. I went to the breaker box and a breaker had been thrown. And that's when "I pop." hit me. I ran up to his room and found a lamp and a fan unplugged lying on the floor. I'm still not sure what he did, but I do know pop is exactly what happened.

By the way, I have since unplugged everything in Jack's room and replaced all the lamps and night lights with outlet covers. He now sleeps in a very dark room.

Croup

Saturday morning, very early morning, I woke up to the tell-tale barking cough. It was Jack, sweet as a sick boy can be. I spent the wee hours with him holding me. Then Saturday, after all-day cape making, I came home to a sick little boy. After dinner, which he didn't eat, he was into his footie jammies and off to bed; winter hat on his head, bedroom window open, two blankets, and a humidifier. We were ready.

We weren't ready for a very panicked eight-year-old flipping on the bedroom light at midnight. I grabbed my balcony-sitting sweater and fleece lined slippers I had set by the door in anticipation of Jack's late night waking (yes, we do this often) and Sadie and I were out the door, while Evan got out the second humidifier and made a bed on our bedroom floor. We sat on the balcony for all of ten seconds when Sadie started to have what I call the drowning response. She was pulling at her clothes and pacing, arching her back in air hunger. I started talking to her, desperate to calm her down, she gasped out, "sing." But even singing was not calming her down.

We have grown accustomed to these late night battles for breath, but it doesn't change the fact that I don't understand it. Evan struggled the same way when he was young and he knows the feeling, but I haven't ever gone through this. My tendency is to say things like, "you have to calm down" or "slower, you have to breathe slower." I'm sure they want to scream at me; slower is irrelevant when you can't breathe hardly at all.

As I sit with Sadie in my arms on the balcony and look out at the dark street, I try to imagine my lungs inside my body. What would it feel like to have that space burning and tight. I don't really know, but I'm scared for my child. Sadie's whole body begins to shake and she is crying. She is so cold and yet she has a fever.

We go back inside and start a breathing treatment. It isn't helping. She panics at trying to breathe through the mouthpiece, she struggles in my arms. I let go and she exhales, "too...tight...it's...too...tight."

Two hours, three attempts at breathing treatments, two trips to the balcony, laying down, sitting up, pacing, crying, yelling, lashing, and I keep thinking, I don't want it to be cold and flu season. I don't want to go through this ever again, let alone for the next three to four months. I hate watching my kids suffer and doing it often doesn't make it any easier.

They are back now from insta-care and asking for toast. Appetite is a good sign, but how about a nap? Albuterol, Xopenex, and epinephrine do little to cause a child to sleep. Is 3 PM too early for bedtime?

Messy, messy

This is what Maisy does when I put her down for a nap. Yes, her shirt is wet, she took off her diaper. Her sheets and blanket were wet as well. Am I dreaming to think that an almost four-year-old should still take naps. There are extenuating circumstances, Maisy is not an average three-year-old. Sometimes watching the effort she has to exert just to get around makes me tired.
Is a couple of hours of quiet, pretending that Maisy is asleep, worth having to change the sheets, clean up the torn up coloring books, and give Maisy a bath? I haven't decided yet. A child with special needs offers so much good, but with that comes a lot of work. "Unto whom much is given, much is required."

Good days and bad

As a mom, I think feeling bad is a way life. My mom has always said, "A mother is only as happy as her most unhappy child."

This morning I walked the girls to the edge of the school grounds and then turned to kiss them goodbye. Ella, who had been saying, "You can go Mom," for quite some time, gave me her cheek. But Sadie grabs my arm and wouldn't let go. " A little further, Mom." "I have to go, honey. I have things to do." So we walk a little further. Ella continues to say, "You can go, Mom." I reluctantly negotiate my arm down until Sadie and I are just holding hands. Then, slowly I let go. I lean down and kiss her cheek. "Have a good day at school, girls." Ella waves, her back turned already walking away. Sadie looks up at me with sad eyes, "Okay, Mom." She almost whispers. "I love you." I whisper back. I watch them walk away and wonder why I have to let go. And why doesn't she want me to? Did she have a bad day yesterday? Was I too harsh when she wouldn't get dressed this morning? Is she missing her friend that is in a different class this year? Why does one child almost run to what is new, while the other hangs on to what once was? Why can't I take her my arms and run the other way? Why do I feel so bad?

So instead I walk home, pick up Jack and hold him close. This only lasts a few seconds before he wiggles away. I will probably feel bad until this afternoon, when I pick her up from school and she jumps into my arms. "I had a good day at school, Mom." "Oh honey, I'm so glad." Ella will be yelling, "Me too, Mom." from halfway down the street. And we'll all be happy again.

Scissors

I thought we were between the hair cutting stage. Sadie and Ella had outgrown it, Maisy and Jack were too young. But surprise, Ella cut Jack's hair. She felt it needed it. So Evan cleaned it up and this is the end result.
I think he looks pretty cute. Even though I won't let Ella know.

What!?

While I was in the shower, Jack removed his diaper and painted himself with red fingernail polish! I can't even show you pictures of what he did (they would be toddler obscene) but believe me when I tell you it's everywhere! I don't think I can use remover. I put him in the tub but that doesn't seem to help. So if you change his diaper in the near future, don't worry, it's just nail polish.
He looks very remorseful, doesn't he. (Did you notice the nail polish on his left leg?)

Mess Making Maisy

From one mess...
to another.
Is it bedtime yet?

Jackzilla

I don't really know how to stop this child.
He is everywhere and into everything. It doesn't help that he knows I can't be too mad if I'm laughing.
As you can tell by the blurry photos and messy house it is constant motion and commotion.
He also is an entertainer, so if someone is watching he will put on a show. I think his new motto is have chair will climb.
How can you love someone this much even when they cause so much trouble?

Grumpy

Today is a bit of a grumpy day. So, because some days are just like that - the Grumpy song by David Weinstone.
If you wanna be a grump that's okay
But could you be a grumpy
Kinda further away.
It's not that I don't love you
'Cause you know I do
Sometimes I'm grumpy too!
And if you wanna be an udge that's okay
But could you be an udgie
Kinda further away
It's not that I don't love you
'Cause you know I do
Sometimes I'm udgie too!I think I understand
Exactly what it is you're going through
Oh when your oatmeal's lumpy
and your socks are all bumpy
What's a poor kid to do.If you wanna be a pesk that's okay
But could you be a pesky
Kinda further away
It's not that I don't love you
'Cause you know I do
Sometimes I'm pesky too!
I think I understand
Exactly what it is you're going through
Oh when your oatmeal's lumpy
and your socks are all bumpy
What's a poor kid to do.
So, if you wanna be a grump that's okay

But could you be a grumpy

Kinda further away.

It's not that I don't love you

'Cause you know I do

Sometimes I'm grumpy too!

http://www.noggin.com/games/jacks/clubhouse/index.php?activity=videoplayer then click on box containing the guy with the grumpy face.

I Hab Da Foo Too

Why do I find this so tragically sweet? Snotty nose and all.

I Hab Da Foo

Some how we got the flu. We haven't even been anywhere. I can't blame the nursery because it was Conference. I can't blame school because I got it first. Everyone, except Evan, has been rather miserable. Which I guess, makes his life pretty miserable too. I think he welcomed the return to work today. In spite of the fevers, aches, sore throats, and coughs, I still got a few smiles. Hope you are all feeling well. Somer