Our kids are at their Sat AM events: Jake with Katy to dance, Milo with Papa to gymnastics. I have an hour to clean the house, but first give you a 10 second snap shot:
1) After suffering 6 weeks with a wet, productive, hacking cough Milo has been diagnosed with an ear infection. Three days on antibiotics and the cough is remarkably improved.
2) Jake has started asking every morning, "Can I have a little coffee?" which is his way of asking for a cough drop.
3) Yesterday I went to a "minute clinic" b/c I don't have a PCP (terrible) and I couldn't take my worsening cough and cold anymore. I got myself on some antibiotics and some allergy medication as well. I'm still an allergy denial-ist even in the face of mounting evidence that I have in fact developed seasonal allergies well into the 4th decade of my life
4) Katy caught the kids playing "We're late...we' re late... We're late..." with each other in the living room the other day. (Eye roll). I guess there are worse things we could be imitated for...
5) I gave my notice at work and will be changing jobs this month... Lots of anxiety to get us to this point and the next 2 week are going to be totally full THROTTLE wrapping up 7 plus years of unfinished TO DO lists, but when the dust settles, I'll write a little more about it...
Showing posts with label Health Stats. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Health Stats. Show all posts
Saturday, October 29, 2011
Thursday, April 07, 2011
Qunitisential ML
ML had his 18 month well baby visit yesterday.
I took a half day to bring him and was rewarded with several hours of ML being ML. This kid can be a holy terror, but he is as sweet as pie and funny and charming and beautiful.
In the waiting room at the pediatric practice, he was sweet and playful and looking for an audience. Making eyes at everyone that walked in, he would frequently stare at an individual until s/he locked eyes with him. And then once ML was sure they were all watching, he'd go on playing as if he didn't just command everyone's attention with his eyes and put himself on display. It was adorable to watch and hard to believe that the entire scene was contingent on my presence. He puts on a good act of "Mr. Independence". Even I am sometimes duped into believing the character sketch that he writes- that he would be this interactive among strangers, even if one of his parents wasn't present. But experience has taught me that he is shy when outnumber by strangers...
When it was time to go into the exam room, he tensed up a bit. He let me undress him and then when I put him on the scale, he started wailing. It was the first cue to him that something would be expected of him. He comforted quickly and easily and readjusted.
When Dr. L came in, ML made sweet faces, but was acting with subtle nervousness, pulling nervously at his diaper, etc. Then he relaxed a bit again. When ML relaxes, "Sr Destruction" will sometimes appear. He all but ransacked the exam room, around and around, opening cabinets, and drawers, doors and the garbage... Up, down, Up, down... crawling around, touching everything, pushing every button he could find, etc.
He did his tricks:
1) How old are you ML? (holds up one finger)
2) How much does Mommy/Mama love you (stretches his arms wide)
3) What does "cold" look like? (holds tight fists near his face, and shivers)
4) What does "hot" look like? (put hands in front of face like saying "stop" and forms "aaaaa" with his mouth)
5) Where's your belly, mouth, eyes, nose, ears, hair, etc (he points)
6) Give her "the Look" (he drops his chin to his neck, puts his lips into a pout, and looks up at you from under his forehead and bangs)
During the physical exam, started crying when she looked in his ears, and lost it after the vaccination was administered. I cuddled him and whispered that he was okay. I asked him to thank his doctor, and he quickly signed "thank you" through tear-streaked cheeks without a break in the whimpering. He recovered by the time he was dressed, and was back in full "ladies man mode" for our trip back through the waiting room. As we walked out, I heard a girl about 6 years old say, "I liked that boy, he was really cute."
The kid can tear a room apart in 3.5 seconds, but he really is a superstar!
Vital stats:
Weight: 25lbs, 10 oz (50th percentile)
Ht: 34" (90th percentile)
You
I took a half day to bring him and was rewarded with several hours of ML being ML. This kid can be a holy terror, but he is as sweet as pie and funny and charming and beautiful.
In the waiting room at the pediatric practice, he was sweet and playful and looking for an audience. Making eyes at everyone that walked in, he would frequently stare at an individual until s/he locked eyes with him. And then once ML was sure they were all watching, he'd go on playing as if he didn't just command everyone's attention with his eyes and put himself on display. It was adorable to watch and hard to believe that the entire scene was contingent on my presence. He puts on a good act of "Mr. Independence". Even I am sometimes duped into believing the character sketch that he writes- that he would be this interactive among strangers, even if one of his parents wasn't present. But experience has taught me that he is shy when outnumber by strangers...
When it was time to go into the exam room, he tensed up a bit. He let me undress him and then when I put him on the scale, he started wailing. It was the first cue to him that something would be expected of him. He comforted quickly and easily and readjusted.
When Dr. L came in, ML made sweet faces, but was acting with subtle nervousness, pulling nervously at his diaper, etc. Then he relaxed a bit again. When ML relaxes, "Sr Destruction" will sometimes appear. He all but ransacked the exam room, around and around, opening cabinets, and drawers, doors and the garbage... Up, down, Up, down... crawling around, touching everything, pushing every button he could find, etc.
He did his tricks:
1) How old are you ML? (holds up one finger)
2) How much does Mommy/Mama love you (stretches his arms wide)
3) What does "cold" look like? (holds tight fists near his face, and shivers)
4) What does "hot" look like? (put hands in front of face like saying "stop" and forms "aaaaa" with his mouth)
5) Where's your belly, mouth, eyes, nose, ears, hair, etc (he points)
6) Give her "the Look" (he drops his chin to his neck, puts his lips into a pout, and looks up at you from under his forehead and bangs)
During the physical exam, started crying when she looked in his ears, and lost it after the vaccination was administered. I cuddled him and whispered that he was okay. I asked him to thank his doctor, and he quickly signed "thank you" through tear-streaked cheeks without a break in the whimpering. He recovered by the time he was dressed, and was back in full "ladies man mode" for our trip back through the waiting room. As we walked out, I heard a girl about 6 years old say, "I liked that boy, he was really cute."
The kid can tear a room apart in 3.5 seconds, but he really is a superstar!
Vital stats:
Weight: 25lbs, 10 oz (50th percentile)
Ht: 34" (90th percentile)
You
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Intuititvely obvious life lessons...
1) Sleep makes you feel less tired
Turns out that when you go to bed at 10pm and don't get woken up by a teething, sobbing mammal with a fever in the middle of the night, it makes a BIG difference how you feel in the morning.
For the last several nights, I went to bed around midnight (usually a little later), and WAS woken up somewhere between the hours of 1 and 4am. Consequently, I spent the better part of the last 3 days trying not to spontaneously start whimpering like The Princess Bride's Wesley after enduring the rack.
2) The main job of Children is to collect and spread germs
I know there are a a lot of things that people think Children should be and do-
- Be seen and not heard
- Spread joy
- Pass on your genes
- Scrub this floor until it shines like the top of the Chrystler building
- (and for the RCC) Be protected from the evils of homosexuality... (protected by ??priests??... sidebar... moving on...)
But from an evolutionary standpoint, this is their job for the first few years... to build up an immune system that is capable of fighting off all sorts of bacteria and viruses so that illness won't eliminate them like those visitors from War of the Worlds (Jeeze, I'm really on a movie reference kick this AM).
Between my sister's kids and our kids, one of the 4 has thrown up at least once in the last 5 or 6 weeks. Usually, they seem perfectly happy, then they get green for 48 seconds, look at you and say, "I have to go potty." Then they shoot the contents of their stomach at you in the living room, or where ever is inconvenient. Then after their vague embarrassment passes and the clean up is complete, they resume playing as if nothing happened at all.
Anyway, these kids are not ALWAYS sick so much as sporadically sick, unpredictably healthy, and major CARRIERS of infectious disease. Attempting to quarantine them when they are "sick" is impossible as the cousins would never see each other again. Katy and I have stopped even being phased by runny noses and coughs, but we are still in the mindset of trying to avoid the ever-elusive "stomach bug". The problem is, we do not know when the next puke will come... or from who. And even as seasoned health care professionals, we do not understand the meaning of low grade fevers that come and go for a week or more without any other symptoms.
This is no big deal if I am well-rested. But if I'm particularly exhausted, I start to get paranoid that my tiny children are trying to kill me.
3) Your tiny children are NOT trying to kill you
Turns out that when you go to bed at 10pm and don't get woken up by a teething, sobbing mammal with a fever in the middle of the night, it makes a BIG difference how you feel in the morning.
For the last several nights, I went to bed around midnight (usually a little later), and WAS woken up somewhere between the hours of 1 and 4am. Consequently, I spent the better part of the last 3 days trying not to spontaneously start whimpering like The Princess Bride's Wesley after enduring the rack.
2) The main job of Children is to collect and spread germs
I know there are a a lot of things that people think Children should be and do-
- Be seen and not heard
- Spread joy
- Pass on your genes
- Scrub this floor until it shines like the top of the Chrystler building
- (and for the RCC) Be protected from the evils of homosexuality... (protected by ??priests??... sidebar... moving on...)
But from an evolutionary standpoint, this is their job for the first few years... to build up an immune system that is capable of fighting off all sorts of bacteria and viruses so that illness won't eliminate them like those visitors from War of the Worlds (Jeeze, I'm really on a movie reference kick this AM).
Between my sister's kids and our kids, one of the 4 has thrown up at least once in the last 5 or 6 weeks. Usually, they seem perfectly happy, then they get green for 48 seconds, look at you and say, "I have to go potty." Then they shoot the contents of their stomach at you in the living room, or where ever is inconvenient. Then after their vague embarrassment passes and the clean up is complete, they resume playing as if nothing happened at all.
Anyway, these kids are not ALWAYS sick so much as sporadically sick, unpredictably healthy, and major CARRIERS of infectious disease. Attempting to quarantine them when they are "sick" is impossible as the cousins would never see each other again. Katy and I have stopped even being phased by runny noses and coughs, but we are still in the mindset of trying to avoid the ever-elusive "stomach bug". The problem is, we do not know when the next puke will come... or from who. And even as seasoned health care professionals, we do not understand the meaning of low grade fevers that come and go for a week or more without any other symptoms.
This is no big deal if I am well-rested. But if I'm particularly exhausted, I start to get paranoid that my tiny children are trying to kill me.
3) Your tiny children are NOT trying to kill you
Monday, June 28, 2010
The last monday in June
I know it has been a dog's age since I have posted...
Sometimes keeping up with this here Gin-Soaked Olive is all I want to do and when it isn't caught up, I get tense and then I think, if I could only get back to writing I would feel better, but then there are so many things that NEED to get done, that it seems selfish and silly to not do the things you should do and so you avoid spending precious time doing the thing that you WANT to do... and then when you can't do the things you need to OR the things you want to, you start to punish yourself further by imagining some large scale strategy for re-creating the stories that you have failed to post in the time you've been away...
Maybe it's just me that does all this.
Anyway, Since I've written last, these are the things I want to catch you up on:
- Josh (Katy's brother) and Linda's wedding
- Our trip to Seattle and Portland (for the wedding)
- Summer fun at the Ta-BAR pool
- Status update on the new day care
- JB's first trip to the ER and stitches
- My birthday
All in good time.
It has been an interesting few weeks (if you can't tell from that list). It has also been a HOT summer so far. We are without central air for the first time in 5 years and trust me when I tell you, we have gotten weak. I swear that JB was sweating himself awake and then hallucinating because of the weather. ML gets really red when he is hot and it looks like he has a sunburn on his face, but when you bring his body temperature down, he color returns to normal.
So just because my eyes are burning too much (fatigue and I think from all the sweat that has run into them in the last few days) I am just going to give you the highlights from today:
2010 - the last monday in june:
8:01 AM - on my way to work, it is already 85 degrees F. Katy and I have agreed that she needs to spend part of her day off bringing the boys to their doctor b/c JB needs his last stitch that hasn't disolved out of his face yet to be removed (it's been 12 days); and ML seems like he has another ear infection: slight temp, tugging at ear, tell-tale cough.
8:03 - i realize I forgot my sunglasses and go home to retrieve them
8:10 - I've made it to the highway; I look at the dash, the temp is up to 87
8:36 - at work, check voicemail: that girl we need to fire if she calls out one more time, she's called out. Check email: very angry and obnoxious email from clinician/employee
9am - text from katy: the boys have an appointment at 10 am
10 am - Meeting
11 am - call from Katy: ML does have an ear infection- his second in 6 weeks
11:30 - another email from disgruntled clinician
1:30 - meeting
2:30 - another meeting
3:30 - 3rd email from (this time) an IRATE clinician who has apparently "nothing to lose." [The bitches I work with have no problem spewing out emotional emails to the very people that sign their checks -it never ceases to amaze me... Oh, and also, being a manager in this economy is fun. Everyone assumes you are stupid and out to get them before imagining there might have been a worse option on the table that you rejected to protect them... and keep the company doors open.]
3:40- insanely awesome 15 minute downpour
4:49 - abandonment of attempted email responses to irate/disgruntled/obnoxious clinicians
5:01 - in car; temp 92 degrees
5:40pm - arrive home. ML hasn't really slept all day. Has had 2 doses of antibiotics and looks like a kid that someone left in the sun all day without sunscreen; JB tells me he "laid on the table and let Dr K take my stiches out with no fuss or moving." excellent job, baby!
6:10 I give ML a bath
6:17 I dress ML in the cutest short-pants PJs
6:20 Katy and I give ML some motrin
6:22 I give ML a bottle
6:26 ML gives me a dubious burp
6:27 ML projectile vomits all over my shirt and the family room; into my purse, splatter on the wall and the TV table
6:30 Katy comes to get ML so that I can clean up a little and get him back in the tub; i strip down to my lady skivies
6:33 I go to get ML in time to see him projectile vomit all over Katy and the upstairs bathroom; I undress him and take him in the shower with me... he falls asleep in the shower. I dress him and hold him in the glider for nearly an hour to calm both him and me. He is coughing, twitchy, and looks so tall to me, but so tiny at the same time. I meditate on all the scary times we've had with him- worrying about his health, even though for the most part he is so healthy. I do some reiki on him. I do this "forgiveness" meditation that I learned in grad school that is mostly about forgiving yourself for not being perfect. I take time taking him in and feeling the heat rise off of his body- it is 86 degrees in the room, and he has cool cheeks and forehead, but a very warm torso and noggin'. He is the sweetest kid and I can't imagine how I would handle it if something were ever seriously wrong with him, this little illness almost seems too much to bare. I like just sitting there with him, alone together while JB gets to watch another episode of Handy Manny with his mama.
7:45 I head to the store to buy air conditioners. Katy and I have toyed with the idea of installing central air, but don't know if we can really afford it this year. We haven't purchased any AC units b/c i hate window units (they block the windows ALL summer, and can ruin the windows); and b/c we think, "summers in New England" are not all that hot... just a few weeks total all summer long... and b/c we are each still holding on to the dream that one of us will produce a compelling enough argument to "bite the bullet" and hire the HVAC guy to fill our house with ducts carrying magic/cool air. June is not over and this is at least our 7th night of >80 temps at night. I speed off to keep my sweet wife and my baby boys protected from the crankiness that comes with narrowly avoiding heat stroke on a daily basis.
10pm I finish installing an AC in the boys room and an AC in our room.
10:30 I toy with my iphone for a while- the new itunes upgrade is cool and allows for me to have a little fun grouping apps into "folders"
10:48 I skip a rational bedtime and ignore the burning in my eyes to write this down for all of you.
Soon: I go to bed.
Sometimes keeping up with this here Gin-Soaked Olive is all I want to do and when it isn't caught up, I get tense and then I think, if I could only get back to writing I would feel better, but then there are so many things that NEED to get done, that it seems selfish and silly to not do the things you should do and so you avoid spending precious time doing the thing that you WANT to do... and then when you can't do the things you need to OR the things you want to, you start to punish yourself further by imagining some large scale strategy for re-creating the stories that you have failed to post in the time you've been away...
Maybe it's just me that does all this.
Anyway, Since I've written last, these are the things I want to catch you up on:
- Josh (Katy's brother) and Linda's wedding
- Our trip to Seattle and Portland (for the wedding)
- Summer fun at the Ta-BAR pool
- Status update on the new day care
- JB's first trip to the ER and stitches
- My birthday
All in good time.
It has been an interesting few weeks (if you can't tell from that list). It has also been a HOT summer so far. We are without central air for the first time in 5 years and trust me when I tell you, we have gotten weak. I swear that JB was sweating himself awake and then hallucinating because of the weather. ML gets really red when he is hot and it looks like he has a sunburn on his face, but when you bring his body temperature down, he color returns to normal.
So just because my eyes are burning too much (fatigue and I think from all the sweat that has run into them in the last few days) I am just going to give you the highlights from today:
2010 - the last monday in june:
8:01 AM - on my way to work, it is already 85 degrees F. Katy and I have agreed that she needs to spend part of her day off bringing the boys to their doctor b/c JB needs his last stitch that hasn't disolved out of his face yet to be removed (it's been 12 days); and ML seems like he has another ear infection: slight temp, tugging at ear, tell-tale cough.
8:03 - i realize I forgot my sunglasses and go home to retrieve them
8:10 - I've made it to the highway; I look at the dash, the temp is up to 87
8:36 - at work, check voicemail: that girl we need to fire if she calls out one more time, she's called out. Check email: very angry and obnoxious email from clinician/employee
9am - text from katy: the boys have an appointment at 10 am
10 am - Meeting
11 am - call from Katy: ML does have an ear infection- his second in 6 weeks
11:30 - another email from disgruntled clinician
1:30 - meeting
2:30 - another meeting
3:30 - 3rd email from (this time) an IRATE clinician who has apparently "nothing to lose." [The bitches I work with have no problem spewing out emotional emails to the very people that sign their checks -it never ceases to amaze me... Oh, and also, being a manager in this economy is fun. Everyone assumes you are stupid and out to get them before imagining there might have been a worse option on the table that you rejected to protect them... and keep the company doors open.]
3:40- insanely awesome 15 minute downpour
4:49 - abandonment of attempted email responses to irate/disgruntled/obnoxious clinicians
5:01 - in car; temp 92 degrees
5:40pm - arrive home. ML hasn't really slept all day. Has had 2 doses of antibiotics and looks like a kid that someone left in the sun all day without sunscreen; JB tells me he "laid on the table and let Dr K take my stiches out with no fuss or moving." excellent job, baby!
6:10 I give ML a bath
6:17 I dress ML in the cutest short-pants PJs
6:20 Katy and I give ML some motrin
6:22 I give ML a bottle
6:26 ML gives me a dubious burp
6:27 ML projectile vomits all over my shirt and the family room; into my purse, splatter on the wall and the TV table
6:30 Katy comes to get ML so that I can clean up a little and get him back in the tub; i strip down to my lady skivies
6:33 I go to get ML in time to see him projectile vomit all over Katy and the upstairs bathroom; I undress him and take him in the shower with me... he falls asleep in the shower. I dress him and hold him in the glider for nearly an hour to calm both him and me. He is coughing, twitchy, and looks so tall to me, but so tiny at the same time. I meditate on all the scary times we've had with him- worrying about his health, even though for the most part he is so healthy. I do some reiki on him. I do this "forgiveness" meditation that I learned in grad school that is mostly about forgiving yourself for not being perfect. I take time taking him in and feeling the heat rise off of his body- it is 86 degrees in the room, and he has cool cheeks and forehead, but a very warm torso and noggin'. He is the sweetest kid and I can't imagine how I would handle it if something were ever seriously wrong with him, this little illness almost seems too much to bare. I like just sitting there with him, alone together while JB gets to watch another episode of Handy Manny with his mama.
7:45 I head to the store to buy air conditioners. Katy and I have toyed with the idea of installing central air, but don't know if we can really afford it this year. We haven't purchased any AC units b/c i hate window units (they block the windows ALL summer, and can ruin the windows); and b/c we think, "summers in New England" are not all that hot... just a few weeks total all summer long... and b/c we are each still holding on to the dream that one of us will produce a compelling enough argument to "bite the bullet" and hire the HVAC guy to fill our house with ducts carrying magic/cool air. June is not over and this is at least our 7th night of >80 temps at night. I speed off to keep my sweet wife and my baby boys protected from the crankiness that comes with narrowly avoiding heat stroke on a daily basis.
10pm I finish installing an AC in the boys room and an AC in our room.
10:30 I toy with my iphone for a while- the new itunes upgrade is cool and allows for me to have a little fun grouping apps into "folders"
10:48 I skip a rational bedtime and ignore the burning in my eyes to write this down for all of you.
Soon: I go to bed.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Defender of Family values
Wednesday night, JB got sick, in the middle of the night.
He woke up crying, clutching his face, all inconsolable and "it hurts" and "Waaaaaaaaa-AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHh-Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!"
We had to take him into our room and turn on a movie to calm him down.
This is a thing we don't usually do- movie, IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT!?! Definitely NOT.
But something was hurting him and he was disoriented. He's been getting better and better in his ability to communicate, but that night after telling us that "It hurts" he could not or would not help us understand what part of him was hurting. Katy and I decided, maybe 2 year old molars???
We gave him some tylenol and let him stay with us in our bed.
Occurring simultaneously, ML was freaking out...
We (well mostly Katy) have been torn about putting the boys in same room. It fits our life better- gives us a guest room and a place to put "an office", offers the boys a chance to bond later on over such things as, "Why are our parents such assholes that we have to share a room when there's another room YOU could live in down the hall." And, "I hate you." and also, "Don't touch my stuff".
The room they share is certainly large enough for both of them, but at this precarious phase of major parental sleep deprivation, we (well, mostly Katy) are always afraid of them waking each other up. So far, this hasn't played out in as much as the very opposite thing has happened: instead of waking each other up, they just take turns waking us up...
Back to last Wednesday... JB's crying out in pain DID wake up ML. And he was beside himself. Not in a typical "I have no object permanence this is all about me" kind of infant way. But in a WHY IS MY BIG BROTHER SO UPSET? kind of way. Katy and I each took a boy and tried to soothe them in separate rooms, but ML was distraught, looking for his brother. He genuinely seemed to be unsettled because JB was upset. ML was staring out the door, craning his neck around, trying to get a visual of his bro.
A few weeks ago, when I sent KT and JB out of the house to sleep train ML, on the 3rd night, I could have sworn that ML looked over at JB's empty bed and started crying. I chalked it up to the delirious imaginings of a desperately tired mom, but the more I watch this baby watch JB, the more I'm convinced it really did happen. If JB is in a room, ML will not even respond to his own name if turning his head means breaking visual contact.
Obviously, I have no idea how their relationship will develop and who will be the defender of who. But if I had to make a prediction, I'd say that ML will always be looking out for his big brother... I think we have a little enforcer on our hands.
------------------------
So, Thursday brought a fever for JB and Friday's visit to the PCP revealed an ear infection, "junky" sounding lungs, a prescribed course of oral antibiotics and (most upsetting) the news that his left ear tube- placed only 2 months ago- has likely been displaced. unless there is a ton on strategically placed wax in that ear, obscuring the view of the tube, it is not present in the ear drum.
Total bummer.
He woke up crying, clutching his face, all inconsolable and "it hurts" and "Waaaaaaaaa-AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHh-Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!"
We had to take him into our room and turn on a movie to calm him down.
This is a thing we don't usually do- movie, IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT!?! Definitely NOT.
But something was hurting him and he was disoriented. He's been getting better and better in his ability to communicate, but that night after telling us that "It hurts" he could not or would not help us understand what part of him was hurting. Katy and I decided, maybe 2 year old molars???
We gave him some tylenol and let him stay with us in our bed.
Occurring simultaneously, ML was freaking out...
We (well mostly Katy) have been torn about putting the boys in same room. It fits our life better- gives us a guest room and a place to put "an office", offers the boys a chance to bond later on over such things as, "Why are our parents such assholes that we have to share a room when there's another room YOU could live in down the hall." And, "I hate you." and also, "Don't touch my stuff".
The room they share is certainly large enough for both of them, but at this precarious phase of major parental sleep deprivation, we (well, mostly Katy) are always afraid of them waking each other up. So far, this hasn't played out in as much as the very opposite thing has happened: instead of waking each other up, they just take turns waking us up...
Back to last Wednesday... JB's crying out in pain DID wake up ML. And he was beside himself. Not in a typical "I have no object permanence this is all about me" kind of infant way. But in a WHY IS MY BIG BROTHER SO UPSET? kind of way. Katy and I each took a boy and tried to soothe them in separate rooms, but ML was distraught, looking for his brother. He genuinely seemed to be unsettled because JB was upset. ML was staring out the door, craning his neck around, trying to get a visual of his bro.
A few weeks ago, when I sent KT and JB out of the house to sleep train ML, on the 3rd night, I could have sworn that ML looked over at JB's empty bed and started crying. I chalked it up to the delirious imaginings of a desperately tired mom, but the more I watch this baby watch JB, the more I'm convinced it really did happen. If JB is in a room, ML will not even respond to his own name if turning his head means breaking visual contact.
Obviously, I have no idea how their relationship will develop and who will be the defender of who. But if I had to make a prediction, I'd say that ML will always be looking out for his big brother... I think we have a little enforcer on our hands.
------------------------
So, Thursday brought a fever for JB and Friday's visit to the PCP revealed an ear infection, "junky" sounding lungs, a prescribed course of oral antibiotics and (most upsetting) the news that his left ear tube- placed only 2 months ago- has likely been displaced. unless there is a ton on strategically placed wax in that ear, obscuring the view of the tube, it is not present in the ear drum.
Total bummer.
Sunday, January 03, 2010
Back to children's hospital next week
JB told us tonight that his "ear hurts". In the history of all his ear infections, he's never told us that. Either b/c he didn't have the language, or b/c the fluid didn't cause him all that much discomfort. He's never tugged on his ears, he's never moved his head with any indication that he was having ear pain, even when he was little...
That one time his eardrum ruptured, he did scream all night, but he was a baby and we were new parents... we didn't know what the hell was going on.
Now he's got the words, and it was just a little sadder to hear the complaint directly from his little mouth. But actually, we've been waiting for this...
Last week (or maybe 2 weeks ago) he went for his ENT follow up visit (every six months since his ear tube placement surgery last December) and his hearing is back to being significantly affected due to fluid behind his ear drums. Also, his tonsils are big and the ENT told Kt that our boy needed to get the ear tubes replaced and also that he should get his tonsils and adenoids removed.
This is an overnight stay and we were initially torn (having a little PTSD about ML's illness and returning to the sight of our 7 day "vacation of terror" this past October) as time passes, we both can't help but get excited for JB who doesn't even know that he is sick and the reason he is drippy, whinny, coughing, snoring, etc is b/c he needs surgery. We're "excited" (though stressed) because we both believe that he will be a new little boy without all this fluid and pressure in his ears and if he can breathe better and therefore feel more rested on a regular basis...
The surgery is a week from Tuesday. Tonight, we gave him Tylenol which is sucked down like a man dying of thirst in the desert. Thursday is his pre-op physical. If he's still complaining tomorrow, we'll be forced to call the pediatrician and/or the surgeon and see if they want/need us to do anything sooner than next week.
That one time his eardrum ruptured, he did scream all night, but he was a baby and we were new parents... we didn't know what the hell was going on.
Now he's got the words, and it was just a little sadder to hear the complaint directly from his little mouth. But actually, we've been waiting for this...
Last week (or maybe 2 weeks ago) he went for his ENT follow up visit (every six months since his ear tube placement surgery last December) and his hearing is back to being significantly affected due to fluid behind his ear drums. Also, his tonsils are big and the ENT told Kt that our boy needed to get the ear tubes replaced and also that he should get his tonsils and adenoids removed.
This is an overnight stay and we were initially torn (having a little PTSD about ML's illness and returning to the sight of our 7 day "vacation of terror" this past October) as time passes, we both can't help but get excited for JB who doesn't even know that he is sick and the reason he is drippy, whinny, coughing, snoring, etc is b/c he needs surgery. We're "excited" (though stressed) because we both believe that he will be a new little boy without all this fluid and pressure in his ears and if he can breathe better and therefore feel more rested on a regular basis...
The surgery is a week from Tuesday. Tonight, we gave him Tylenol which is sucked down like a man dying of thirst in the desert. Thursday is his pre-op physical. If he's still complaining tomorrow, we'll be forced to call the pediatrician and/or the surgeon and see if they want/need us to do anything sooner than next week.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Neuro check
JB's been having night terrors. He wakes up 2 or 3 times a night screaming and crying. There's a chance this would have happened anyway, but I'm surprised it didn't happen sooner with all of the changes in the last few months. He's been potty training too- so there's that, in terms of stress. And Katy and I would both give odds that his ears are full and he'll need tubes again.
Despite all this, he is doing pretty good in underwear. Yesterday we had a shit-storm blow out, LITERALLY. But that only happened once before and this time it was really my fault... I mean, it was the first time he even SAW a remote control car... I'm surprised his head didn't explode. I should'a been toileting him every ten minutes.
Today was ML's neuro follow up. I cried this morning (partially) in anticipation. It was really all that we hoped for:
1) He looks great
2) He's growing out of his phenobarbital dose, so we'll titrate that down to gone.
3) A repeat EEG is unnecessary unless he has more seizures.
4) A repeat MRI would only be for "curiosity's sake" and isn't worth the risks associated with necessary sedation as long as he continues to develop normally.
5) Developmentally, he seems normal.
He's such a sweet, happy baby, it's hard to imagine there could be anything wrong with him. The stressful part has not been imagining how it might be if there were something wrong with his brain (you've seen the videos of him singing... Who really gives a shit if that's who he is, that's who he is)... The stressful part has been imagining how it might be to have to watch him be poked and prodded, and tested for more of his life.
It is a relief, but it is also an exhausted exhalation that will not entirely give up the concern until he is long off the Meds without any more seizure activity.
Sent from my iPhone
Sunday, November 22, 2009
2 month vital statistics
ML had his 2 month well baby visit. Also last week, he got blood drawn for a phenobarbital level and repeat liver enzymes.
At the pedi visit, the kid was 13 lbs and 10 oz. He is in the 90th percentile for height and wt. And his head circumference is only in the 50th percentile. (I only bring this up b/c he does not seem to be getting a fat head, even though he is growing out of his britches... if you follow my pun.) He is already in 3-6 month clothing.
ML is such a good eater and such a good sleeper, that's impossible to imagine him as anything but perfectly healthy. My gram calls him "such a nice package". He eats 5-6 oz every 3-ish hours. All formula now. Katy stopped breast feeding about 3 weeks ago. He burps like a frat boy with a small change in position. Just sit him up and he lets it rip. He rarely if ever spits up. He hardly ever cries, except to tell us he needs something. He sleeps from 9pm until 5 or 6 (or... 7).
That sleeping thru the night thing might be saving my life right now, but what is not to love!?! So far, he's as good a baby if not better than JB. We are very lucky indeed!
Birth to 3 is coming every 2 weeks to give ML Physical Therapy. He is working on his neck muscles, especially trying to turn to his left as often as his right. And also to get his thumbs out from his fists... especially when he is upset or "stressed" he keeps his thumbs tucked into his fists; apparently this is a newborn instinct that he should have grown out of by now. (Who knew?)
For the most part, he is a happy camper and we adore him (JB included.)
I have some great stories and updates about JB, but that will have to wait. Tomorrow, hopefully katy will post the video of ML singing with his mommy. a-door-a-bull!
I am working 2 days this week and then we are going to Cape May for Turkey day!!! Will try to find time to pay the blog some attention. Having 2 kids makes the "alone" time much harder to find, though.
At the pedi visit, the kid was 13 lbs and 10 oz. He is in the 90th percentile for height and wt. And his head circumference is only in the 50th percentile. (I only bring this up b/c he does not seem to be getting a fat head, even though he is growing out of his britches... if you follow my pun.) He is already in 3-6 month clothing.
ML is such a good eater and such a good sleeper, that's impossible to imagine him as anything but perfectly healthy. My gram calls him "such a nice package". He eats 5-6 oz every 3-ish hours. All formula now. Katy stopped breast feeding about 3 weeks ago. He burps like a frat boy with a small change in position. Just sit him up and he lets it rip. He rarely if ever spits up. He hardly ever cries, except to tell us he needs something. He sleeps from 9pm until 5 or 6 (or... 7).
That sleeping thru the night thing might be saving my life right now, but what is not to love!?! So far, he's as good a baby if not better than JB. We are very lucky indeed!
Birth to 3 is coming every 2 weeks to give ML Physical Therapy. He is working on his neck muscles, especially trying to turn to his left as often as his right. And also to get his thumbs out from his fists... especially when he is upset or "stressed" he keeps his thumbs tucked into his fists; apparently this is a newborn instinct that he should have grown out of by now. (Who knew?)
For the most part, he is a happy camper and we adore him (JB included.)
I have some great stories and updates about JB, but that will have to wait. Tomorrow, hopefully katy will post the video of ML singing with his mommy. a-door-a-bull!
I am working 2 days this week and then we are going to Cape May for Turkey day!!! Will try to find time to pay the blog some attention. Having 2 kids makes the "alone" time much harder to find, though.
Monday, November 02, 2009
Dear journal,
We moms woke up early today.
(Read: we did not really sleep.)
JB has been sick.
We are exhausted.
1+1= 5
I'm snapping at people in frustration and fatigue.
The house is coming along... slowly.
JB impresses us with his smarts.
ML reassures us by seeming perfectly healthy.
(Read: we did not really sleep.)
JB has been sick.
We are exhausted.
1+1= 5
I'm snapping at people in frustration and fatigue.
The house is coming along... slowly.
JB impresses us with his smarts.
ML reassures us by seeming perfectly healthy.
Monday, October 12, 2009
Life at 4 weeks old
Dear ML,
You are four weeks today. Good god, son, you have really given us a scare this week.
We have been at the hospital since Thursday morning. And we still don't even have much of a clue.
We thought it would be 48 hours, to rule out a bacterial infection, but then when your fevers finally broke, you started having some seizures. You had 12 seizures on Saturday and they moved you to the PICU and started you on anti seizure medication. You have had 2 rounds of antibiotics and are on an antiviral now.
You have had an LP, blood and urine cultures, several IVs, an EEG, a CT scan of your head and abdomen, and tonight an MRI.
They are ruling our really scary things, but for now, the medication has stopped the seizures, and you have no fever, and you are eating and sleeping appropriately and peeing and pooping, etc. You have even gained weight during your stay, while eating a combination of your mama's breast milk, and formula.
The big things we are still worried about are: 1) a specific viral meningitis, 2) a viral encephalitis, 3) Inborn error of metabolism. The EEG showed some seizure activity but that was consistent with your age. Your head MRI ruled out structural abnormalities in the brain that might cause seizures, but the preliminary results showed some "white matter changes" which are indicative of infection (in other words, encephalitis)... We don't know what this means yet, but they are pretty much all ready treating you for a virus like this.
Being with you through all of this has been scary and exhausting. But revealed the blessings in our lives too.
Your brother is staying with your TT, Bill, and Nana and Papa (even though they don't live together, this is like a group operation) We have missed him so much, but he is distracted and doing pretty well without us. And we don't have to worry about him at all because he is so well taken care of. We have been with you around the clock or have had family sitting with you while we rest, eat, and take anxiety reducing walks.
It seems like there might have been a better way to get all this special "family time" with you, but it's not up to us to dictate these things I guess. We love you so much and your mommies are taking turns falling apart and holding it together. We think in a few weeks, this will all seem like a distant memory, but right now, that seems like too much to hope for.
Keep hanging in there, little boy. You are truly surrounded by love.
Holding you close to us,
Your mommies
You are four weeks today. Good god, son, you have really given us a scare this week.
We have been at the hospital since Thursday morning. And we still don't even have much of a clue.
We thought it would be 48 hours, to rule out a bacterial infection, but then when your fevers finally broke, you started having some seizures. You had 12 seizures on Saturday and they moved you to the PICU and started you on anti seizure medication. You have had 2 rounds of antibiotics and are on an antiviral now.
You have had an LP, blood and urine cultures, several IVs, an EEG, a CT scan of your head and abdomen, and tonight an MRI.
They are ruling our really scary things, but for now, the medication has stopped the seizures, and you have no fever, and you are eating and sleeping appropriately and peeing and pooping, etc. You have even gained weight during your stay, while eating a combination of your mama's breast milk, and formula.
The big things we are still worried about are: 1) a specific viral meningitis, 2) a viral encephalitis, 3) Inborn error of metabolism. The EEG showed some seizure activity but that was consistent with your age. Your head MRI ruled out structural abnormalities in the brain that might cause seizures, but the preliminary results showed some "white matter changes" which are indicative of infection (in other words, encephalitis)... We don't know what this means yet, but they are pretty much all ready treating you for a virus like this.
Being with you through all of this has been scary and exhausting. But revealed the blessings in our lives too.
Your brother is staying with your TT, Bill, and Nana and Papa (even though they don't live together, this is like a group operation) We have missed him so much, but he is distracted and doing pretty well without us. And we don't have to worry about him at all because he is so well taken care of. We have been with you around the clock or have had family sitting with you while we rest, eat, and take anxiety reducing walks.
It seems like there might have been a better way to get all this special "family time" with you, but it's not up to us to dictate these things I guess. We love you so much and your mommies are taking turns falling apart and holding it together. We think in a few weeks, this will all seem like a distant memory, but right now, that seems like too much to hope for.
Keep hanging in there, little boy. You are truly surrounded by love.
Holding you close to us,
Your mommies
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Oh, I got her pregnant
K: (In a thrilled, tremulous voice) Oh my god the most amazing thing happened to me today!
T: (eagerly) oh yeah? Do tell...
K: I was eating my peanut butter and banana for breakfast, and there was a chocolate chip in the peanut butter and i didn't even know that it was in there until it was in my mouth.
T: (staring lovingly)
K: it was hidden in the middle of the peanut butter, and then it was just magically in my mouth.
T and K: (laughter)
This is the second trimester for Katy... After months of puking and gagging, she recently said to me, "Food has never tasted this good." To which I replied, "Welcome to my entire life." It was a little magical moment like when Willy Wonka opens the doors to his chocolate factory to poor, underfed Charlie and shows him the chocolate river and the production capacity of an oompa loompa workforce.
Last night she sat on the couch spooning chocolate chips directly into the chunky peanut butter jar and then dipping a tablespoon in to bring both delicacies into her mouth, and today, she found a leftover nugget.
Moving on to bigger news...
We had the ultrasound. If you know us on facebook (or in real life) this is old news, but to all GSO fans, the baby she is growing is looking good. The brains and heart, the bones and bladder and liver and circulation all are awesome. Measuring just a little bit bigger than dates, all looks great. (Including the dangly bit that makes him a BOY!) We are thrilled. Of course we would be thrilled if he had been a she, but since the news came to us last Thursday, we have been reviewing the top 3 reasons this is perfect for us:
1) We love the name we had for a boy and we don't have one for a girl (no, we're not telling)
2) Seriously, siblings born in the same month of the year, it would be heartbreaking not to be able to use all those adorable hand-me-downs.
3) Our sweet little JB is a pensive thinker, surrounded by loving women and only a handful of men... a brother to protect and who will also watch out for him seems to be the perfect set up!
Katy is 20 weeks tomorrow. Half way through the pregnancy. He's kicking and moving and she's got the cutest little bump. (pics to follow.)
T: (eagerly) oh yeah? Do tell...
K: I was eating my peanut butter and banana for breakfast, and there was a chocolate chip in the peanut butter and i didn't even know that it was in there until it was in my mouth.
T: (staring lovingly)
K: it was hidden in the middle of the peanut butter, and then it was just magically in my mouth.
T and K: (laughter)
This is the second trimester for Katy... After months of puking and gagging, she recently said to me, "Food has never tasted this good." To which I replied, "Welcome to my entire life." It was a little magical moment like when Willy Wonka opens the doors to his chocolate factory to poor, underfed Charlie and shows him the chocolate river and the production capacity of an oompa loompa workforce.
Last night she sat on the couch spooning chocolate chips directly into the chunky peanut butter jar and then dipping a tablespoon in to bring both delicacies into her mouth, and today, she found a leftover nugget.
Moving on to bigger news...
We had the ultrasound. If you know us on facebook (or in real life) this is old news, but to all GSO fans, the baby she is growing is looking good. The brains and heart, the bones and bladder and liver and circulation all are awesome. Measuring just a little bit bigger than dates, all looks great. (Including the dangly bit that makes him a BOY!) We are thrilled. Of course we would be thrilled if he had been a she, but since the news came to us last Thursday, we have been reviewing the top 3 reasons this is perfect for us:
1) We love the name we had for a boy and we don't have one for a girl (no, we're not telling)
2) Seriously, siblings born in the same month of the year, it would be heartbreaking not to be able to use all those adorable hand-me-downs.
3) Our sweet little JB is a pensive thinker, surrounded by loving women and only a handful of men... a brother to protect and who will also watch out for him seems to be the perfect set up!
Katy is 20 weeks tomorrow. Half way through the pregnancy. He's kicking and moving and she's got the cutest little bump. (pics to follow.)
Saturday, February 07, 2009
Oh, I'm so behind on the "newletter" situation that I'm distressed about it.
But today we had several "firsts".
The first time JB booted all over himself. We woke up not to the oft heard whining and crying out, but to a happy-sounding boy, "Hi... Hi..." from the room next door. Katy and i both went in at six am and found him covered in a vile-bile smelling smammering of regurgitated food. It was clear by the odor, and the degree of mess that he got sick some time in the middle of the night and just moved out of the stuff to continue his slumber. Even in the am, he was un-phased, but we were a tad repulsed. He and I stripped down and got into the shower which was only part one of the cleansing process. After a third round of baby wash did not eliminate the stank, i filled the tub and sat down with him to commence with an honest-to-god scrubbing.
We then crawled into bed together and slept uncharacteristically late until 8:30 am.
It's pretty good to have gone 16 and 1/2 months without a major barf, but it puts us out of practice. We let him have a little water but he refused breakfast. When he got upgraded to a sippy cup filled with milk, he greedily drank, turning his head 10 minutes later to gulch up a slightly more diluted puddle of the white stuff onto the floor. Poor boo. Then at 10:30, he went down for his second 2 hour nap of the still young day.
JB's been saying please for a week or two now. It started as a barely recognizable "pbbbbbl-z" but now, pretty consistently sounds like, "peaz, peaz, peaz". We've had him signing "thank you" on occasion. Done correctly, "thank you" requires the tips of your fingers to start on your chin (palm facing your neck), then you bring your forearm down 90 degrees, ending in an open-palm position that seems to say "Can you give me five bucks?" When we ask him to say "thank you," (if he's inclined to want to impress us) he will lazily blow a kiss - which is essentially a "thank you" that starts a few centimeters too high. Today, out of the blue, when we asked him to say thank you, he put it out there verbally and with an impressive amount of accuracy for the first time. Something like, "They-k Ooo."
He says toes and shoes much more clearly than before and milk is another new word. The other day my mom left a message on the machine and though he will rarely if ever say her name to her, when he heard her voice from 2 rooms away, JB said as clear as day, "Nana."
JB now has 10 teeth that have poked through his gums. The pattern of sprouting is not scientific or predictable at all... Except for the first four (2 top, 2 bottom) they are not arriving "in order" at all... we never know where to even look for new teeth. Also, these suckers are sharp and I have a new respect for how much it must hurt to have these gums thrashed through to get the choppers out here.
The numbers are the order (to the best of my ability that these teeth cut through.) Numbers 1-4 are not listed because (as I have stated) they came first, but I am purposely vague about this b/c without doing a GSO search for information, I have no idea the order the 4 front teeth appeared in...
Other cute things:
He definitely gets "more". I observed him seeming to remember that he has a way to ask for more kisses today. I kissed him. He laughed. I kissed him some more. He laughed again. I stopped. He waited, expectantly. I got into a conversation with Katy. He looked at me and then at her and then at me again. He then looked down and after a few minutes, his eyes shot up again in a manner that seemed to be like a double-take. He signed "more" pretty emphatically. Since he usually only signs "more" for food-related desires, he caught me a little off-guard.
"More what?" I asked.
He opened his mouth and blew a kiss.
"oh, more kisses?"
He nodded. VFC (very f$%#ing cute).
He knows how to lock the breaks on the high chair and will stop dead in his tracks if he is walking by and notices the little yellow buttons are in the "unlock" position. (OCD much?) These things on the wheels are literally less than 1/2 inch big... the difference between the lock (down) and unlock (up) positions cannot be more than 5 degress, but he will walk by, turn around, and walk over using his right foot to step on the buttons and make them click into the lock position.
Last cuteness of the day that I will post here is that I put him on the treadmill for a few minutes. We were in the basement and he was all, "oooo, oooh, aahhh" pointing and gesturing to the treadmill. So I put it on the lowest spead, 0.5 mph and let him walk on it. I know I'm going to live to regret this later, and some of you are flipping open your phones right now to get the number to DCF, but it was pretty adorable...
I was all over him and careful to make sure if he lost his footing I could scoop him up before he even hit the floor. But I was amazed by his balance and control of his body. He liked walking fast and then stopping so that the treadmill brought him almost to the end. Right when he was about to be spun off, he would start marching faster to get to the front of the conveyor belt. I was a little proud.
But today we had several "firsts".
The first time JB booted all over himself. We woke up not to the oft heard whining and crying out, but to a happy-sounding boy, "Hi... Hi..." from the room next door. Katy and i both went in at six am and found him covered in a vile-bile smelling smammering of regurgitated food. It was clear by the odor, and the degree of mess that he got sick some time in the middle of the night and just moved out of the stuff to continue his slumber. Even in the am, he was un-phased, but we were a tad repulsed. He and I stripped down and got into the shower which was only part one of the cleansing process. After a third round of baby wash did not eliminate the stank, i filled the tub and sat down with him to commence with an honest-to-god scrubbing.
We then crawled into bed together and slept uncharacteristically late until 8:30 am.
It's pretty good to have gone 16 and 1/2 months without a major barf, but it puts us out of practice. We let him have a little water but he refused breakfast. When he got upgraded to a sippy cup filled with milk, he greedily drank, turning his head 10 minutes later to gulch up a slightly more diluted puddle of the white stuff onto the floor. Poor boo. Then at 10:30, he went down for his second 2 hour nap of the still young day.
JB's been saying please for a week or two now. It started as a barely recognizable "pbbbbbl-z" but now, pretty consistently sounds like, "peaz, peaz, peaz". We've had him signing "thank you" on occasion. Done correctly, "thank you" requires the tips of your fingers to start on your chin (palm facing your neck), then you bring your forearm down 90 degrees, ending in an open-palm position that seems to say "Can you give me five bucks?" When we ask him to say "thank you," (if he's inclined to want to impress us) he will lazily blow a kiss - which is essentially a "thank you" that starts a few centimeters too high. Today, out of the blue, when we asked him to say thank you, he put it out there verbally and with an impressive amount of accuracy for the first time. Something like, "They-k Ooo."
He says toes and shoes much more clearly than before and milk is another new word. The other day my mom left a message on the machine and though he will rarely if ever say her name to her, when he heard her voice from 2 rooms away, JB said as clear as day, "Nana."
JB now has 10 teeth that have poked through his gums. The pattern of sprouting is not scientific or predictable at all... Except for the first four (2 top, 2 bottom) they are not arriving "in order" at all... we never know where to even look for new teeth. Also, these suckers are sharp and I have a new respect for how much it must hurt to have these gums thrashed through to get the choppers out here.
The numbers are the order (to the best of my ability that these teeth cut through.) Numbers 1-4 are not listed because (as I have stated) they came first, but I am purposely vague about this b/c without doing a GSO search for information, I have no idea the order the 4 front teeth appeared in...
Other cute things:
He definitely gets "more". I observed him seeming to remember that he has a way to ask for more kisses today. I kissed him. He laughed. I kissed him some more. He laughed again. I stopped. He waited, expectantly. I got into a conversation with Katy. He looked at me and then at her and then at me again. He then looked down and after a few minutes, his eyes shot up again in a manner that seemed to be like a double-take. He signed "more" pretty emphatically. Since he usually only signs "more" for food-related desires, he caught me a little off-guard.
"More what?" I asked.
He opened his mouth and blew a kiss.
"oh, more kisses?"
He nodded. VFC (very f$%#ing cute).
He knows how to lock the breaks on the high chair and will stop dead in his tracks if he is walking by and notices the little yellow buttons are in the "unlock" position. (OCD much?) These things on the wheels are literally less than 1/2 inch big... the difference between the lock (down) and unlock (up) positions cannot be more than 5 degress, but he will walk by, turn around, and walk over using his right foot to step on the buttons and make them click into the lock position.
Last cuteness of the day that I will post here is that I put him on the treadmill for a few minutes. We were in the basement and he was all, "oooo, oooh, aahhh" pointing and gesturing to the treadmill. So I put it on the lowest spead, 0.5 mph and let him walk on it. I know I'm going to live to regret this later, and some of you are flipping open your phones right now to get the number to DCF, but it was pretty adorable...
I was all over him and careful to make sure if he lost his footing I could scoop him up before he even hit the floor. But I was amazed by his balance and control of his body. He liked walking fast and then stopping so that the treadmill brought him almost to the end. Right when he was about to be spun off, he would start marching faster to get to the front of the conveyor belt. I was a little proud.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
A breather from a long week
It was such a long, busy week. Just exhausting, really. And I'm sorry to report, the blog suffered. (But I guess those of you reading this now, knew that already.)
I think this time of year, the colder weather, the threat of- if not the existence of- ice and snow, the increased darkness... it just makes you more tired, right?
Katy and I started the week on the fitness train, but then mother nature and life's chores intervened. Combined visits to the treadmill: 4. The new hand weights we bought: still wrapped in original packaging.
On Tuesday, JB had his ENT follow up. From beginning to end the visit was stressful. I got a little lost and I got there late. I had to wait for a while once we got there even though there seemed to be no one else in the place...
The visit itself started with Dr I'm-old-enough-to-be-your-baby-cousin explaining that JB had, "the worst ears I've ever seen." He had not used that description post-operatively and I guess I'm glad. 'Cause that would have freaked me out in the hospital... But then, it freaked me out in his office two 1/2 weeks after the surgery. I immediately comforted myself realizing that this guy's wisdom teeth probably haven't even grown in yet. I mean, if an old man said that, "HOLY CRAP!" But how many sets of eartubes could this guy have done? I convinced myself that JB's ears were the worst out of EIGHT at most! As I'm regrouping, he drops a diagnostic concern on us: congenital cholesteatoma.
I ask Dr IOETBYBC to write it down at the end of the visit because I know it is my job to bring this info back to Katy, and to be honest, he LOST ME at the word CONGENITAL - my brain went into fuzzy mode. A cholesteatoma, I learned in the next 6 minutes of the visit, is essentially a growth of skin in the inner ear that can be diagnosed by CT scan. To get a CT scan you must lay perfectly still for about 2-5 minutes, which for a one year old requires anesthesia. The treatment is surgical removal. If a cholesteatoma goes untreated, the tumor will grow into and around the hearing bones and cause permanent hearing loss.
All of this was said before the dude in the white coat even looks in our boy's ears. After the exam, he says, "Well, his ears look much better than I anticipated."
(Feel the weight of the pause with me)
"WTF DOES THAT MEAN?!?!" I wanted to shout.
I ask several questions about what he has said so far and am told, "The cause for concern is your report that JB's ears were odorous after the surgery for about 10 days." Dr. IOETBYBC explained that this smell would only come from a pseudomonas infection, which is caused by keratin left in (and draining out of) the ear from the skin-sloughing that is the hallmark of a cholesteatoma. (YUMMY)
As a nurse who has personally smelled all sorts of nasty infections, I'm not completely convinced that pseudomonis is the only infection that would 'cause our kid's ears to get all rank, but this is what Dr. IOETBYBC expects us to believe. Just as I'm coming around to the notion of putting my kid back to sleep for a diagnostic test, though, the young doctor backs down... "Let's wait for his hearing test and then decide about the CT scan then."
Thanks! Because I wasn't sleeping all that soundly anyway. So, now I can just lay there imagining whether or not a clump of abnormal cells are growing around the infrastructure of our son's ear canal.
That was Tuesday am. Tuesday PM the forecast was all drama about the morning commute - The "freezing mix" started in the afternoon and was supposed to go all night. As the logistics officer of our family, Katy made the call that we would be staying at my parent's house in Midpoint. On my way there from work, even though the bad weather hadn't gotten a real foothold yet, I skidded at a stop sign and hit my first BMW.
Nothing tragic or even exciting. I tried not to laugh out loud when the lady said, "We'll just exchange information." Um, no... let's call the authorities, because I ain't even gonna have this imaginary bumper damage assessed, and the sleet jumping off my hood is telling me that this here accident is going to be "no fault". I'm not kidding when i tell you that we couldn't have been going more than 8 or 10 mph, and the combined damage of our cars was less than you might get if you dropped an unopened can of coke on the pavement. No, thank you, mam', we'll just wait for the Midpoint PD to get here and clear this up. 25 minutes later, I left without a moving violation.
At my parents, JB slept well until about midnight and then woke up every hour until 5:30 when his exhausted parents just gave in. As predicted, all the schools were closed and Nana conducted a 3 kid day care... TGFGrandparents!
JB is fine during the day (as far as we've been told) but at night, he wakes up crying nearly every night, sometimes 2 or 3 times. He's easy to go back to sleep, but we are awake, and in addition to feeling tired, we are also worried. He doesn't wake up and then cry. He cries in his sleep and sometimes cries himself awake. Is he dreaming? Is he in pain? Is it his teeth? Is it his ears? Is it normal? A phase? Related to the ways we've set him off his routine with our travel? Part of life? What should or can be done... it's worrisome and kind of sad and (yeah, I'm trying to come up with a new word) exhausting.
Work this week has been crazy too. Way too many meetings and administrative commitments; and the stuff that you need to do that you can't do while preparing for and sitting in meetings just stacks up and looms in suffocating piles.
So this morning, we heard the boy at the usual 5:30 and brought him to bed for another hour. When he was fidgety, I got up with him so that Katy could grab a few extra zzzs. After breakfast, we assembled his workbench from Nana and Papa. He was really adorable. I had a real screwdriver and he had the toy one and whenever I screwed a screw in, he watched what I was doing and imitated it. I showed him the hammer and light and how they worked. I would send him back and forth to the trash to throw things away. He was so curious and excited about the toy. Every once in a while, he would stop playing and come hug me or hug my leg and the run back to the work bench...
I'm saying: I'll sleep in another lifetime. It's just fine with me.
:)
I think this time of year, the colder weather, the threat of- if not the existence of- ice and snow, the increased darkness... it just makes you more tired, right?
Katy and I started the week on the fitness train, but then mother nature and life's chores intervened. Combined visits to the treadmill: 4. The new hand weights we bought: still wrapped in original packaging.
On Tuesday, JB had his ENT follow up. From beginning to end the visit was stressful. I got a little lost and I got there late. I had to wait for a while once we got there even though there seemed to be no one else in the place...
The visit itself started with Dr I'm-old-enough-to-be-your-baby-cousin explaining that JB had, "the worst ears I've ever seen." He had not used that description post-operatively and I guess I'm glad. 'Cause that would have freaked me out in the hospital... But then, it freaked me out in his office two 1/2 weeks after the surgery. I immediately comforted myself realizing that this guy's wisdom teeth probably haven't even grown in yet. I mean, if an old man said that, "HOLY CRAP!" But how many sets of eartubes could this guy have done? I convinced myself that JB's ears were the worst out of EIGHT at most! As I'm regrouping, he drops a diagnostic concern on us: congenital cholesteatoma.
I ask Dr IOETBYBC to write it down at the end of the visit because I know it is my job to bring this info back to Katy, and to be honest, he LOST ME at the word CONGENITAL - my brain went into fuzzy mode. A cholesteatoma, I learned in the next 6 minutes of the visit, is essentially a growth of skin in the inner ear that can be diagnosed by CT scan. To get a CT scan you must lay perfectly still for about 2-5 minutes, which for a one year old requires anesthesia. The treatment is surgical removal. If a cholesteatoma goes untreated, the tumor will grow into and around the hearing bones and cause permanent hearing loss.
All of this was said before the dude in the white coat even looks in our boy's ears. After the exam, he says, "Well, his ears look much better than I anticipated."
(Feel the weight of the pause with me)
"WTF DOES THAT MEAN?!?!" I wanted to shout.
I ask several questions about what he has said so far and am told, "The cause for concern is your report that JB's ears were odorous after the surgery for about 10 days." Dr. IOETBYBC explained that this smell would only come from a pseudomonas infection, which is caused by keratin left in (and draining out of) the ear from the skin-sloughing that is the hallmark of a cholesteatoma. (YUMMY)
As a nurse who has personally smelled all sorts of nasty infections, I'm not completely convinced that pseudomonis is the only infection that would 'cause our kid's ears to get all rank, but this is what Dr. IOETBYBC expects us to believe. Just as I'm coming around to the notion of putting my kid back to sleep for a diagnostic test, though, the young doctor backs down... "Let's wait for his hearing test and then decide about the CT scan then."
Thanks! Because I wasn't sleeping all that soundly anyway. So, now I can just lay there imagining whether or not a clump of abnormal cells are growing around the infrastructure of our son's ear canal.
That was Tuesday am. Tuesday PM the forecast was all drama about the morning commute - The "freezing mix" started in the afternoon and was supposed to go all night. As the logistics officer of our family, Katy made the call that we would be staying at my parent's house in Midpoint. On my way there from work, even though the bad weather hadn't gotten a real foothold yet, I skidded at a stop sign and hit my first BMW.
Nothing tragic or even exciting. I tried not to laugh out loud when the lady said, "We'll just exchange information." Um, no... let's call the authorities, because I ain't even gonna have this imaginary bumper damage assessed, and the sleet jumping off my hood is telling me that this here accident is going to be "no fault". I'm not kidding when i tell you that we couldn't have been going more than 8 or 10 mph, and the combined damage of our cars was less than you might get if you dropped an unopened can of coke on the pavement. No, thank you, mam', we'll just wait for the Midpoint PD to get here and clear this up. 25 minutes later, I left without a moving violation.
At my parents, JB slept well until about midnight and then woke up every hour until 5:30 when his exhausted parents just gave in. As predicted, all the schools were closed and Nana conducted a 3 kid day care... TGFGrandparents!
JB is fine during the day (as far as we've been told) but at night, he wakes up crying nearly every night, sometimes 2 or 3 times. He's easy to go back to sleep, but we are awake, and in addition to feeling tired, we are also worried. He doesn't wake up and then cry. He cries in his sleep and sometimes cries himself awake. Is he dreaming? Is he in pain? Is it his teeth? Is it his ears? Is it normal? A phase? Related to the ways we've set him off his routine with our travel? Part of life? What should or can be done... it's worrisome and kind of sad and (yeah, I'm trying to come up with a new word) exhausting.
Work this week has been crazy too. Way too many meetings and administrative commitments; and the stuff that you need to do that you can't do while preparing for and sitting in meetings just stacks up and looms in suffocating piles.
So this morning, we heard the boy at the usual 5:30 and brought him to bed for another hour. When he was fidgety, I got up with him so that Katy could grab a few extra zzzs. After breakfast, we assembled his workbench from Nana and Papa. He was really adorable. I had a real screwdriver and he had the toy one and whenever I screwed a screw in, he watched what I was doing and imitated it. I showed him the hammer and light and how they worked. I would send him back and forth to the trash to throw things away. He was so curious and excited about the toy. Every once in a while, he would stop playing and come hug me or hug my leg and the run back to the work bench...
I'm saying: I'll sleep in another lifetime. It's just fine with me.
:)
Friday, December 19, 2008
Ear tubes
I'm home from work 'cause we didn't know how yesterday would go, so I took 2 days off.
It went pretty well.
We had to be at the hospital at 7am, but it is amazing how much easier is it to "pop" out of bed when it is for something other than work. JB woke up at 4am, but I rocked him back to sleep and by the time we had to wake him to get going, kt was already back from a DD run and Nana was here to help get him dressed.
When we arrived, the place was already packed and I remembered something I hadn't considered: Most kids who get surgery are not that healthy. Most of the kids in the waiting room had physical, mental, or emotional disabilities. There was an adorable boy with a trach that was making playful eyes at JB. You couldn't sit in this waiting room and not wallow in gratitude for all your blessings when your toe-head is toddling around, the picture of sweetness, health, and stereotypical perfection.
The staff at the Children's Hospital was fantastic. The kid hung in there, good-spirited for all the necessary "hanging around". They brought him an oxygen mask smeared in strawberry smelling stuff to play with- that would be the same mask that would deliver the gas that would put him to sleep. Katy elected me "parent that goes in the OR". I'm sure if she had wanted to go I would have let her, but truth be told, I was glad she wasn't interested. This part was harder than I imagined and that's why my wife is (simply put) smarter than me. She knows her limitations and is okay opting out of some things. I barely know what I can do, let alone have a grasp on what I can't (I'm constantly lying to myself and others: "I'll definitely be there by 10am..." Sound familiar to anyone out there?!?) Truth is, I like to be there for the really hard shit, I think it is part of my ICU training/hero complex. But I'm pretty sure watching my baby's screaming face through the mask, and the lolling of his eyes and head before he finally went limp was the reason I woke up every 20 minute in a panic last night. I have a history of processing stressful events (that have already been resolved) in dreams that I only occasionally remember. All through college, I would have nightmares about finals, weeks after the coursework was over and the textbooks were sold back.
Anyway, the staff prepared me sufficiently for the exact events described above (which occurred exactly as predicted). I left the OR at that point only because there was a staff member assigned to walk me out of there. If not, I'm sure I would have involuntarily knelt by his head, blocking the ENT's access.
They also warned us that he would wake up very upset- which he did- AND that after he napped again for a short time, he would wake up feeling himself (which also happened exactly as they predicted.) The staff warned us the bloody drainage would be leaking out of his ears for a few days. That is a little more disconcerting than I thought it would be.
The rest of the day, the kid was really sweet and loving... Laughing, smiling, playing, seeming to want to talk a lot. Until bed time when all of us were pretty exhausted and he had a melt down. He didn't appreciate the ear drops and tried to refuse tylenol (he is no match for the brute strength and resolve of two mommies, however.) He fell into a hard sleep on his back, while I held him on my chest. The tears had stopped but the tracked wet paths on his cheeks weren't yet dry. And the recently placed Otic Solution caused tiny streams of reconstituted blood to drip silently onto my shirt. I transferred him to his crib and when we checked him several hours later, he had not changed position. He slept until late in the AM (6:30 means sleeping in around here, folks.)
Other stories of note from the hospital:
1) The crazy fish of a mom who seemed way too into her cell phone to be bothered to notice her son was having surgery. Before his procedure, she refused to hold his ipod telling him, "I have my own stuff to carry." Though Nana reported to me in no uncertain terms that the mom was not carrying anything EXCEPT her cell phone. Then later in the recovery waiting room, when they came to tell her his procedure was completed, she held up her finger to the hospital staff as if to say, "wait a minute," and spoke loudly into the phone, "Well, I guess I have to go see what is going on, I'll call you back."
Sweet. Really.
2) As I promised my friends, when the anesthesiologist asked, "do you have any questions?" I posed the only one that mattered to me, "You're sober right?" Contrary to public opinion, I wasn't merely being a wise ass. I'm in health care. I know these people (not anesthesiologists, just health care workers in general) can not all be trusted. As I predicted, he dodged the question, not really laughing, but sort of looking annoyed which of course sort of annoyed me. I mean is there any reason why that question shouldn't be taken seriously? I'm not kidding. The nurse laughed and asked him, "Have you ever been asked that before?" and he said no and walked away, but if he had looked in my eyes I would have said, "Hey, I don't know you. You can't deny that's a valid question." I'm going to tell you this- when I worked in the hospital, if someone asked me that, I would have looked them in the eye and stated clearly. "Yes, I am glad to report I am sober." I think it's a valid question. The only reasons I can conjure not to answer it are ONE: you can't truthfully say 'yes', TWO: You think no one should ever question your integrity even if the life of their most beloved is about to be placed in your hands, or a possible THREE: you were drunk or high during a procedure once and you think someone has "found out."
Anyway, I think it's a valid question and I'm almost done perseverating on why he didn't' give me the respect or courtesy of an answer.
It went pretty well.
We had to be at the hospital at 7am, but it is amazing how much easier is it to "pop" out of bed when it is for something other than work. JB woke up at 4am, but I rocked him back to sleep and by the time we had to wake him to get going, kt was already back from a DD run and Nana was here to help get him dressed.
When we arrived, the place was already packed and I remembered something I hadn't considered: Most kids who get surgery are not that healthy. Most of the kids in the waiting room had physical, mental, or emotional disabilities. There was an adorable boy with a trach that was making playful eyes at JB. You couldn't sit in this waiting room and not wallow in gratitude for all your blessings when your toe-head is toddling around, the picture of sweetness, health, and stereotypical perfection.
The staff at the Children's Hospital was fantastic. The kid hung in there, good-spirited for all the necessary "hanging around". They brought him an oxygen mask smeared in strawberry smelling stuff to play with- that would be the same mask that would deliver the gas that would put him to sleep. Katy elected me "parent that goes in the OR". I'm sure if she had wanted to go I would have let her, but truth be told, I was glad she wasn't interested. This part was harder than I imagined and that's why my wife is (simply put) smarter than me. She knows her limitations and is okay opting out of some things. I barely know what I can do, let alone have a grasp on what I can't (I'm constantly lying to myself and others: "I'll definitely be there by 10am..." Sound familiar to anyone out there?!?) Truth is, I like to be there for the really hard shit, I think it is part of my ICU training/hero complex. But I'm pretty sure watching my baby's screaming face through the mask, and the lolling of his eyes and head before he finally went limp was the reason I woke up every 20 minute in a panic last night. I have a history of processing stressful events (that have already been resolved) in dreams that I only occasionally remember. All through college, I would have nightmares about finals, weeks after the coursework was over and the textbooks were sold back.
Anyway, the staff prepared me sufficiently for the exact events described above (which occurred exactly as predicted). I left the OR at that point only because there was a staff member assigned to walk me out of there. If not, I'm sure I would have involuntarily knelt by his head, blocking the ENT's access.
They also warned us that he would wake up very upset- which he did- AND that after he napped again for a short time, he would wake up feeling himself (which also happened exactly as they predicted.) The staff warned us the bloody drainage would be leaking out of his ears for a few days. That is a little more disconcerting than I thought it would be.
The rest of the day, the kid was really sweet and loving... Laughing, smiling, playing, seeming to want to talk a lot. Until bed time when all of us were pretty exhausted and he had a melt down. He didn't appreciate the ear drops and tried to refuse tylenol (he is no match for the brute strength and resolve of two mommies, however.) He fell into a hard sleep on his back, while I held him on my chest. The tears had stopped but the tracked wet paths on his cheeks weren't yet dry. And the recently placed Otic Solution caused tiny streams of reconstituted blood to drip silently onto my shirt. I transferred him to his crib and when we checked him several hours later, he had not changed position. He slept until late in the AM (6:30 means sleeping in around here, folks.)
Other stories of note from the hospital:
1) The crazy fish of a mom who seemed way too into her cell phone to be bothered to notice her son was having surgery. Before his procedure, she refused to hold his ipod telling him, "I have my own stuff to carry." Though Nana reported to me in no uncertain terms that the mom was not carrying anything EXCEPT her cell phone. Then later in the recovery waiting room, when they came to tell her his procedure was completed, she held up her finger to the hospital staff as if to say, "wait a minute," and spoke loudly into the phone, "Well, I guess I have to go see what is going on, I'll call you back."
Sweet. Really.
2) As I promised my friends, when the anesthesiologist asked, "do you have any questions?" I posed the only one that mattered to me, "You're sober right?" Contrary to public opinion, I wasn't merely being a wise ass. I'm in health care. I know these people (not anesthesiologists, just health care workers in general) can not all be trusted. As I predicted, he dodged the question, not really laughing, but sort of looking annoyed which of course sort of annoyed me. I mean is there any reason why that question shouldn't be taken seriously? I'm not kidding. The nurse laughed and asked him, "Have you ever been asked that before?" and he said no and walked away, but if he had looked in my eyes I would have said, "Hey, I don't know you. You can't deny that's a valid question." I'm going to tell you this- when I worked in the hospital, if someone asked me that, I would have looked them in the eye and stated clearly. "Yes, I am glad to report I am sober." I think it's a valid question. The only reasons I can conjure not to answer it are ONE: you can't truthfully say 'yes', TWO: You think no one should ever question your integrity even if the life of their most beloved is about to be placed in your hands, or a possible THREE: you were drunk or high during a procedure once and you think someone has "found out."
Anyway, I think it's a valid question and I'm almost done perseverating on why he didn't' give me the respect or courtesy of an answer.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Already home!
For all that have been waiting anxiously for the news... JB did wonderfully this morning. He was a trooper and waited with us patiently for 90 minutes in the pre-op area, then came through the procedure beautifully. He was appropriately pissed when he woke up but we're home and he has eaten a meal, taken a short nap, and now getting ready for his regular afternoon snooze.
Thanks for all the thoughts and prayers!
Thanks for all the thoughts and prayers!
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Walking, wanking, and going under the knife
A few updates...
The kid is great.
After about 4 weeks of creeping and clinging to our fingers while taking step-lets, tonight JB took 6-7 consecutive steps several times. We set him up in front of us and did the, "Go see Mama," now, "Go see Mommy" thing. He's so unstable and wiggly, but he is definitely close to walking. In fact, if we are not calling what he is doing now walking, I'm not sure when we will make that designation.
He's found his penis. Every night in the tub for the last week, he ignores the ducks, boats, and cups of water, preferring instead to tickle and pull his little pup. It is more amusing to me than it should be. Especially when he starts sort of singing every time he takes a grab at it.
Tuesday was Veteran's day and we spent the morning on the other side of the health care system. First, an amazingly sweet and talented audiologist named Brian tested JB's hearing. After about 30 minutes it was determined that due to the fluid behind his eardrums, JB has some "significant" hearing deficits. Then the ENT left us waiting in the anxiety of that information for about 20 minutes - giving JB enough time to play in the sink, tear up the paper on the exam table, attempt to rip the opthalmoscope off the wall, and motion incessantly toward the phone on the wall. When we were all about to lose it at the 65 minute mark, a seemingly pre-pubescent boy came in and told us he'd like to do surgery on our baby.
That's right. Ear tubes. We were worried this day might come, but to honest, I thought we would fight it more. Fight it as in, "The research shows... blah, blah, blah." But instead, we're all like, "hearing... deficit... surgery... okay."
So, On the lighter side, there might be a def-a-sit, but the kid can hear for sure. His latest cuteness includes:
1) Dancing whenever he hears music,
2) pointing to body parts when you ask, "where's Jake's ____?" (He knows belly, head, nose, and toes)
3) He follows directions including:
- Take your binki out and put it in the crib
- Put the cap on your bottle
- Take your hat off/ put your hat on
- Give (fill in name) a kiss/hug
- Throw the ball
He lifts his feet to get his shoes and socks put on. He signs for bath and milk. He shakes his head no and says "uh-oh" (or atleast has an 'uh-oh' version of the one-syllable "oh"). He seems to have only one word: "mama" (unless you count the many intonations of "oh" he produces.) But we swear that at least 3 times, he repeated "Obama" (with considerable prompting.)
The kid is great.
After about 4 weeks of creeping and clinging to our fingers while taking step-lets, tonight JB took 6-7 consecutive steps several times. We set him up in front of us and did the, "Go see Mama," now, "Go see Mommy" thing. He's so unstable and wiggly, but he is definitely close to walking. In fact, if we are not calling what he is doing now walking, I'm not sure when we will make that designation.
He's found his penis. Every night in the tub for the last week, he ignores the ducks, boats, and cups of water, preferring instead to tickle and pull his little pup. It is more amusing to me than it should be. Especially when he starts sort of singing every time he takes a grab at it.
Tuesday was Veteran's day and we spent the morning on the other side of the health care system. First, an amazingly sweet and talented audiologist named Brian tested JB's hearing. After about 30 minutes it was determined that due to the fluid behind his eardrums, JB has some "significant" hearing deficits. Then the ENT left us waiting in the anxiety of that information for about 20 minutes - giving JB enough time to play in the sink, tear up the paper on the exam table, attempt to rip the opthalmoscope off the wall, and motion incessantly toward the phone on the wall. When we were all about to lose it at the 65 minute mark, a seemingly pre-pubescent boy came in and told us he'd like to do surgery on our baby.
That's right. Ear tubes. We were worried this day might come, but to honest, I thought we would fight it more. Fight it as in, "The research shows... blah, blah, blah." But instead, we're all like, "hearing... deficit... surgery... okay."
So, On the lighter side, there might be a def-a-sit, but the kid can hear for sure. His latest cuteness includes:
1) Dancing whenever he hears music,
2) pointing to body parts when you ask, "where's Jake's ____?" (He knows belly, head, nose, and toes)
3) He follows directions including:
- Take your binki out and put it in the crib
- Put the cap on your bottle
- Take your hat off/ put your hat on
- Give (fill in name) a kiss/hug
- Throw the ball
He lifts his feet to get his shoes and socks put on. He signs for bath and milk. He shakes his head no and says "uh-oh" (or atleast has an 'uh-oh' version of the one-syllable "oh"). He seems to have only one word: "mama" (unless you count the many intonations of "oh" he produces.) But we swear that at least 3 times, he repeated "Obama" (with considerable prompting.)
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
9 month well-child visit
The kid went to the doctor yesterday.
He's awesome:
29 1/2 inches (90th percentile)
19 lbs 4 oz (30th percentile)
Dr L explained that this was fine. That breastfed babies usually drop in their weight curve- normal, nothing to worry about... When kids are as chunky-healthy-looking as ours, do parents really worry about a drop on the growth curve??? It honestly never occurred to me.
She checked his ears and they look good (big relief)
She thinks his rash is from coxsackie (see, we're not so crazy for all that worry-worting we did in the big city during his fever this weekend...)
She is pleased with his strength and development.
We love this practice. There's a male DO there who might be the sweetest dude I've ever had a conversation with. Katy and I both agree that we love him so much we privately consider changing to him, but we love the she-doc we picked as primary for JB too. When I was in the hospital Dr. sweet-boy-DO was the one on call all weekend. He was the only medical professional we vented to about my OB group, and it was like katy and I got to have a super-supportive hospital-husband for a few minutes a day. We think if JB wants when he is bigger, we'll offer him to change to a male provider.
He's awesome:
29 1/2 inches (90th percentile)
19 lbs 4 oz (30th percentile)
Dr L explained that this was fine. That breastfed babies usually drop in their weight curve- normal, nothing to worry about... When kids are as chunky-healthy-looking as ours, do parents really worry about a drop on the growth curve??? It honestly never occurred to me.
She checked his ears and they look good (big relief)
She thinks his rash is from coxsackie (see, we're not so crazy for all that worry-worting we did in the big city during his fever this weekend...)
She is pleased with his strength and development.
We love this practice. There's a male DO there who might be the sweetest dude I've ever had a conversation with. Katy and I both agree that we love him so much we privately consider changing to him, but we love the she-doc we picked as primary for JB too. When I was in the hospital Dr. sweet-boy-DO was the one on call all weekend. He was the only medical professional we vented to about my OB group, and it was like katy and I got to have a super-supportive hospital-husband for a few minutes a day. We think if JB wants when he is bigger, we'll offer him to change to a male provider.
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Mama's home
Kt came home last night. JB was very excited to see her. Me too. Being a single mom is exhausting, but being without my boo makes me feel a little lost in the wilderness that is mundane, suburban life. She was only gone 4 days but in that time, I got a little sore throat, 2 sties, my period, and managed to turn the homestead into a flop house...
JB popped his second tooth (Mr Rightie on the bottom next to a rapidly growing Mr Lefty), went swimming in a real pool for the first time, learned how to ooh-waa-ooh-waah (make varied noises with his hand on and off his mouth like a caricature of an Indian), and really started creeping (he will move 3 or 4 feet toward an object he wants like the remote control or our cell phones.) He is becoming such a big boy.
Coxsackie is at the day care. There was a big poster on the door yesterday morning, like a medieval decree. This is a virus that used to be called hoof and mouth disease, then "hand, foot, and mouth disease," Now, as my mother says, "cock-sack-y?!? That seems like a crazy name!?!"
Anyway, JB was a little listless and "not himself this weekend". I put that in quotes because he changes all the time so, it is hard to know if something "new" is the "new normal". Anyway, he was sleeping more and eating less than he usually does, so that could be anything like the heat, or the teeth, or the missing mama, or a boy trying to grow... but now we're waiting to see if a fever and/or spots follow. Cammy felt a little warm last night, but she's the same age as JB and that could be all the above mentioned things too.
JB popped his second tooth (Mr Rightie on the bottom next to a rapidly growing Mr Lefty), went swimming in a real pool for the first time, learned how to ooh-waa-ooh-waah (make varied noises with his hand on and off his mouth like a caricature of an Indian), and really started creeping (he will move 3 or 4 feet toward an object he wants like the remote control or our cell phones.) He is becoming such a big boy.
Coxsackie is at the day care. There was a big poster on the door yesterday morning, like a medieval decree. This is a virus that used to be called hoof and mouth disease, then "hand, foot, and mouth disease," Now, as my mother says, "cock-sack-y?!? That seems like a crazy name!?!"
Anyway, JB was a little listless and "not himself this weekend". I put that in quotes because he changes all the time so, it is hard to know if something "new" is the "new normal". Anyway, he was sleeping more and eating less than he usually does, so that could be anything like the heat, or the teeth, or the missing mama, or a boy trying to grow... but now we're waiting to see if a fever and/or spots follow. Cammy felt a little warm last night, but she's the same age as JB and that could be all the above mentioned things too.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Newsletter: Month 8
Dear JB,
Today you are EIGHT MONTHS OLD! It is hard to believe. These sweet times don't feel like they are flying by. It feels like we are savoring them and enjoying them and filling up our hearts with them, but i look up from my entertainment weekly in the upstairs bathroom at 10pm on any random night and realize... whoa, time is flying by!
This last month, you got sick again. While on antibiotics for that recent, bilateral ear infection (the pediatric provider said the right was worse than the left) your left ear pussed up on us and your eardrum burst. Our first sign was a kind of foul, skunky smell coming out of your ear... our second sign was the 6 hours you screamed whenever we tried to put you down, and whimpered even when we held you. I can't stress enough how un-you that type of behavior is. You can be a twitchy mess when you are "fussy" and you can get whiny at times, but you have proven to us over and over that you just don't cry for no reason. We were up all night that night, and before you even spiked a temp, we had decided someone needed to look into your ears again. That makes 40 combined days of three different antibiotics in less than 4 months. We'd be lying if we said we weren't a little concerned about that. But a few days after we start the drugs each time, you seem completely happy, comfortable, and back to your joe-cool-self.
You are such a sweet, happy boy. You are quick to smile and laugh. Your Aunt Teri observes that you are more attentive to the voices, jokes, and peek-a-boos of your mommies and are more likely to reserve your quiet "quizzical expression" for folks you don't know as well. We notice that you get loud when things are quiet, but when there is a lot to see and and a lot of background clamoring, you are more pensive and serious, often scrunching your brow and pursing your lips as you take it all in. This is never more apparent than we we are in church. Pretty predictably, you stare mutely during the active times and shout out during the moments of silence.
You've developed this habit of rubbing your head and tugging your hair and ears. It's probably related to all of the ear infections, but it is still cute; and looks as if you are trying to put on a show: "Look at my head! I'm rubbing my head! See my hands? They are ON MY HEAD!!! Soon I'll rub my head AND pat my belly." This "rubbing your head" thing is something that you do that I don't see other babies doing. I can't tell, do you like the way your head feels when it is being stroked? Do you like the way your head or hair feels under your hand? Do you like exploring these newly discovered aspects of your body? At one point it seemed a little OCD-esque (rub head 5 times in a circle, tug ear twice, rub head, pull hair, etc.) I absentmindedly rubbed the back of my own mane, as I often do when I'm "thinking," and realized it is probably more "handed down" behavior than I had considered.
One morning this month, I was holding you on the bed and Mama was chattering away. I'm not sure what she was saying, but I was tired and staring up at her as she dressed and talked. She turned to us and started laughing because apparently, we were looking at her with identical expressions: tired, squinting eyes; head tiled up; jaw slackened with mouth hanging slightly open; a look of vague consternation... or was it constipation?!? People say over and over again, "He looks just like you," to me. I don't see it. I just don't. You look just like you to me. And I think you are way cuter than I am, by the way.
Milestones: clapping, clapping to the word "hooray," clapping when you get excited or proud, clapping when one of us enters the room, (have we mentioned clapping), sitting up independently, flipping and rolling all around the floor and the crib, holding your bottle, holding a sippy cup, holding the mesh-fruit-eater-thing-ee, eating everything stage 2- combos of fruits and veggies and rice, bouncing up a storm (in the bouncy seat), pretty consistently sleeping thru the night, knowing we are still there somewhere when we leave the room (object permanence.)
You moved up to a new, rear-facing car seat in each of our cars. You have developed quite a fan-base at day care. We love dressing you up for your "girlfriends" (what all the day care workers refer to themselves as.)
You are already becoming something that is entirely separate from us, even though we three are so intertwined and interdependent on each other. You move your hands purposefully. Sometimes it is utility (grabbing my hair to pull yourself up to a sitting position) and sometimes the purpose is purely tactile (to stroke your mama's shoulder.) You laugh at us and with us. The other day, I would lean into you as I said: "Aaaugh, aaaugh, AAAaaaugh-chooo!" And you belly laughed until your parents were in tears.
You really are a dream come true. We love you.
Your mommies
Today you are EIGHT MONTHS OLD! It is hard to believe. These sweet times don't feel like they are flying by. It feels like we are savoring them and enjoying them and filling up our hearts with them, but i look up from my entertainment weekly in the upstairs bathroom at 10pm on any random night and realize... whoa, time is flying by!
This last month, you got sick again. While on antibiotics for that recent, bilateral ear infection (the pediatric provider said the right was worse than the left) your left ear pussed up on us and your eardrum burst. Our first sign was a kind of foul, skunky smell coming out of your ear... our second sign was the 6 hours you screamed whenever we tried to put you down, and whimpered even when we held you. I can't stress enough how un-you that type of behavior is. You can be a twitchy mess when you are "fussy" and you can get whiny at times, but you have proven to us over and over that you just don't cry for no reason. We were up all night that night, and before you even spiked a temp, we had decided someone needed to look into your ears again. That makes 40 combined days of three different antibiotics in less than 4 months. We'd be lying if we said we weren't a little concerned about that. But a few days after we start the drugs each time, you seem completely happy, comfortable, and back to your joe-cool-self.
You are such a sweet, happy boy. You are quick to smile and laugh. Your Aunt Teri observes that you are more attentive to the voices, jokes, and peek-a-boos of your mommies and are more likely to reserve your quiet "quizzical expression" for folks you don't know as well. We notice that you get loud when things are quiet, but when there is a lot to see and and a lot of background clamoring, you are more pensive and serious, often scrunching your brow and pursing your lips as you take it all in. This is never more apparent than we we are in church. Pretty predictably, you stare mutely during the active times and shout out during the moments of silence.
You've developed this habit of rubbing your head and tugging your hair and ears. It's probably related to all of the ear infections, but it is still cute; and looks as if you are trying to put on a show: "Look at my head! I'm rubbing my head! See my hands? They are ON MY HEAD!!! Soon I'll rub my head AND pat my belly." This "rubbing your head" thing is something that you do that I don't see other babies doing. I can't tell, do you like the way your head feels when it is being stroked? Do you like the way your head or hair feels under your hand? Do you like exploring these newly discovered aspects of your body? At one point it seemed a little OCD-esque (rub head 5 times in a circle, tug ear twice, rub head, pull hair, etc.) I absentmindedly rubbed the back of my own mane, as I often do when I'm "thinking," and realized it is probably more "handed down" behavior than I had considered.
One morning this month, I was holding you on the bed and Mama was chattering away. I'm not sure what she was saying, but I was tired and staring up at her as she dressed and talked. She turned to us and started laughing because apparently, we were looking at her with identical expressions: tired, squinting eyes; head tiled up; jaw slackened with mouth hanging slightly open; a look of vague consternation... or was it constipation?!? People say over and over again, "He looks just like you," to me. I don't see it. I just don't. You look just like you to me. And I think you are way cuter than I am, by the way.
Milestones: clapping, clapping to the word "hooray," clapping when you get excited or proud, clapping when one of us enters the room, (have we mentioned clapping), sitting up independently, flipping and rolling all around the floor and the crib, holding your bottle, holding a sippy cup, holding the mesh-fruit-eater-thing-ee, eating everything stage 2- combos of fruits and veggies and rice, bouncing up a storm (in the bouncy seat), pretty consistently sleeping thru the night, knowing we are still there somewhere when we leave the room (object permanence.)
You moved up to a new, rear-facing car seat in each of our cars. You have developed quite a fan-base at day care. We love dressing you up for your "girlfriends" (what all the day care workers refer to themselves as.)
You are already becoming something that is entirely separate from us, even though we three are so intertwined and interdependent on each other. You move your hands purposefully. Sometimes it is utility (grabbing my hair to pull yourself up to a sitting position) and sometimes the purpose is purely tactile (to stroke your mama's shoulder.) You laugh at us and with us. The other day, I would lean into you as I said: "Aaaugh, aaaugh, AAAaaaugh-chooo!" And you belly laughed until your parents were in tears.
You really are a dream come true. We love you.
Your mommies
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