Three and A Half Horrors

I have this theory that kids hit the "terribles" at their half-year birthday mark. I think that they gain new levels of independence about that time, but with my kids, every half-birthday marks a major shift in behavior - emotionally, combined with a greater desire for independence from me. Sadie is further proof of the validity of my hypothesis.

I give you, for evidence, my last three weeks with Sadie:

• The Cupcake Incident. The night before we needed cupcakes for our school St Patty's Day party, the assistant teacher at school got very sick. So, I ended up making last minute cupcakes. At midnight. Until 2 am. I left all 24 of them on the kitchen counter and stove overnight. This was a fatal error. In the morning I found 4 cupcakes. Upon further inspection I found a green child that looked somewhat like Sadie once had and an engorged pit-herd. I counted only 8 cupcake wrappers. The rest have yet to be found. And likely never will be.
• Hair Cut. Apparently Sadie was tired of waiting for a haircut. So she did her own. Of course she couldn't be like every other child that does this. She took a big chunk of the top, back section of her head. Which means she will be wearing a pony tail for at least 2 years.
• Potty Fun. Yesterday I got a call from school. It was the preschool teacher. Apparently Sadie had decided to go to the bathroom. While in there, she removed her shirt. And began to dip it in the toilet and drip it around. I asked what I should do. Without hesitation the teacher suggested a new shirt. Ummm, yeah.
• Morning Rounds. Sadie has once again decided sleeping is for fools. So she wakes around 3. And again, for the day somewhere between 4:30-5:30 each morning. At which time she informs me she's hungry. Starving. So I give her food and go back to bed. She wakes me up 10 minutes later having devoured said food to exclaim she is once again hungry. Starving. So I feed her again, and try to sleep for another 15 minutes before... well, you get the drift.

I've been abnormally angry over her impish endeavors lately. I realize if I step back, I can laugh. It's just hair. It's only cupcakes. The shirt was likely dirty anyway. And we all know sleep is overrated.

Maybe it's the short temper from the stress I'm under (I won't bore you all with details). Maybe I'm just not a perfect mommy (say it isn't so?!?!). Or maybe this kid is driving me batshit with her shenanigans.

Bonding with Sadie

It's CHD Awareness Week, which I have been actively involved with for the past three years. This year, however, I did nothing to prepare, and I have to admit, I've let the CHD Blog run far behind in posts. But it's for a good reason. I've been bonding with the very reason that brought me into the nightmare world of CHD.

Having a baby you can't hold in the early days has a huge impact on your ability to bond. Ask any parent of a premie who's hospitalized a long time, or anyone who has a child with a chronic, life threatening illness in the early days. Sadie missed out on those early caresses - I couldn't touch her for more than a week beyond brushing a fingertip across her hair without her heart racing. I didn't hold her until she was almost three weeks old. She could not tolerate touch, really, for months, unless she was bundled tightly to minimize it, and bounced to draw her attention away from the fact she was being held. It's difficult to bond under those circumstances.

And that's part of the reason I have been such a 'warrior' about Congenital Heart Defect Awareness. I felt so robbed. If she had been diagnosed, as she SHOULD HAVE been prior to birth, I wouldn't have lost as many days as she stabilized. I have felt that the lack of knowledge, the lack of simple tests, had cost me the bond with my baby. And I was pissed about it. And when I get pissed, I take action to make changes. I don't know what caused this to be my genetic makeup, but it's what happens when I'm faced with something I can't understand, or I think is wrong, or I feel I can make better.

I always felt so awful about not having that special bond with Sadie that I had with Katie in her early years. I craved those moments I'd had with Katie as a newborn - when she'd gaze up from nursing into my eyes and just stare. How she'd snuggle into me and fall fast asleep. How she smiled in those early weeks. With Sadie, it just didn't happen. Every day was a battle. I was, to be honest, disappointed. Let down. Sad.

That's not to say I don't love Sadie more than I can express. I love her so very, very much - coming so close to losing someone makes you realize how much you want them to be in your life. I would content myself with watching her sleep (when she did). Time marched on, and month by month she became a little easier to deal with - allowing me to touch her without crying. Eventually making eye contact. Hugging. Kissing. She became a fairly normal toddler - full of moxy, highly temperamental, but funny and sweet. Still, we didn't have "that" bond.

All of a sudden, three and a half years later, it has finally happened. In fact, I can almost name the moment. We went out on our first mommy-daughter date to the movies a month or two ago, and we sat. We chatted. And the communication began to grow. Now she's attached to my hip (literally, she's sitting her on the couch beside me, on my hip as I type), snuggling constantly and telling me how much she loves me a hundred times a day. And each time I tear up a little bit, so thankful for these moments that were so long in coming.

As for CHD Awareness, I will continue to promote the need for better testing - simple tests can save lives, and maybe even just one mom can have more of a bond with their baby than I was able to have. So I'll champion it. But I won't be putting the hours into it this year. It is time for me to step back and be thankful. To hang up the gloves I've had to keep on to fight for so long for Sadie, and just enjoy her and revel in my new found bond.

One of my favorite days. Ever.

Nothing makes you appreciate your own children more than after the loss of another's child. I've been mourning Charlotte's loss for some time now, even before she was gone. Yet I felt shut away from the girls. Almost guilty for loving on them, when my friends' child was dying. I know that makes no sense - especially since Charlotte's father's instructions to me every time I saw him was to "hug your babies" but it was just hard to think of how healthy they were, how unfair it was to the Reynolds. But I'm moving on.

The memorial was absolutely beautiful. Thanks to all my friends who helped out with it, donated or were there for me to commiserate with. I love you all, and the Reynolds thank you too.

The service was so touching. I've been singing "I'll fly away," gospel-style for the last few days. It ended with "Let's go fly a kite!" as we headed out to the balloon release (eco-friendly ones of course). It was such a beautiful site, and was a wonderful act of letting go. The reception actually went well, even though we crammed 700 people in a space for 250. The bands were hopping, there was laughter and tears, hugs and friends galore. I even ran into some old high school chums I hadn't seen in years, which was a bonus boost. I felt a great sense of closure - not necessarily for me, but as a collective group. And I am in awe of the Ashland community. That little town truly is the "Center of the Universe." I'm proud to have called it home during my high school years.

But to be honest, I was so busy preparing, obsessing about making it all right, that I'd neglected my babies all week. Yesterday I crashed and burned - a complete pajama day, lounging on the couch, finally showering in the late afternoon and snuggling with the girls all day long. It was bliss to be so lazy (though I did feel very guilty).

Today was back to business. Thankfully it was a school holiday, so I had a fantastic day with the girls doing everything they could possibly want - breakfast at McDonald's playland, shopping for new Schleich animals, playing with said Schleich animals, playing outside, going to the park, making home made pizzas together (my white pizza is the BOMB!) and just relishing the little moments with them. The sun was out, it was a glorious 58 degrees and I felt alive and happy like I haven't felt in weeks. My God I missed my girls. And the sun.

I had the most awesome time with the kids. I laughed at Sadie running from spot to spot in the volley ball court to make sand angels. I had a long talk with Katie about Martin Luther King Jr and his impact. (She brought it up - this morning she told me she wanted to make MLK's wish come true for his birthday and she was going to be kind to every person and treat everyone the same no matter who they were, where they came from or what they looked like. Atta girl!). I teared up when the girls took turns shouting from the playground mountain climbing rock "I love you Mommy!" at the top of their lungs. I was just plain and utterly happy today.

So, I'm ready to embark on the next adventure in life, and where ever it leads. I will never forget the lessons taught by Charlotte and her brave parents. I will forever be changed by this experience in living and dying, and I am the better for have being graced by being a part of the conclusion of Charlotte's life. I would give anything to have learned in a different way, but am thankful for the lesson none the less.

So Long December!!!

I'm waaaay overdue on pictures. You know you want to see my beautiful babies. So here they are in all their December glory. We had so much fun this month - we had a weekend full of snow (very unusual for Richmond in December), went to the theater, enjoyed Christmas festivities and music, learned about and celebrated a few 'new' holidays (for us) and enjoyed two weeks off that were packed full of playdates and mayhem. Looking forward to 2010!!!

Tantrums

OK, someone tell me how to handle a tantruming three year old. Please. Because I have NO. FRIGGIN. CLUE.

As a Montessori mom, I use the 'choices' approach to help stave off about 50% of the tantrums. But some days Sadie has already escalated well out of the realm of reasonable discussion.

So I remove her from the situation if I can. Try to talk about using a calm body and kind words. But sometimes she's already over that, too.

So she kicks, screams, scratches, tears things apart, throws things, etc. And if we get to that point, well, it's going to be at least 20 minutes before she can calm herself.

A friend was here today and witnessed what transpires first hand. Sadie hit her daughter in the head with a toy, several times. When I called her over to speak to me, she refused to budge. I went to her, knelt to her level and said, "we do not hit our friends with toys, it hurts." To which she replied, "I know" and made a face. I replied, "if we hurt our friends it makes them sad, so we need to apologize to help them feel better. We don't want to hurt our friends, do we?" To which she replied, "yes I do. She's stupid." Stupid, you see, is the worst word she knows... at least at this point. It's like a curse word in our home.

So I gave a choice, we could go over and apologize to the friend and play nicely, or we could go sit down and calm down. And the screaming began. Not a "wah" but a high pitched, ear pearcing scream. I told her that "screaming is not nice, it hurts my ears, it hurts all of our ears. You need to use your words so that we understand what you want to tell us." Yeah, no effect. So another choice was given, stop screaming and use words to talk to me about how she was feeling, or go upstairs. And a hit flew. And I scooped her up, went upstairs to her room and put her on the bed.

Again the conversation about using words. She's kicking, screaming, throwing things, so obviously, no more conversing at this point. I tell her that if she continues to throw things, I will have to hold her until she calms so she doesn't break anything or hurt herself or me. It escalates. I hold her. She bites, screams. Twenty minutes pass. No dice. I put her down several times during that time, each time to get assaulted. At this point I'm wondering if my friend has left. I wouldn't blame her if she had.

Sadie calms enough, finally, to say she wants to go downstairs. I say sure, if she can use a calm body and quiet voice. She starts down the stairs, and the wails start up before we're half way down. Full blown crying again at the bottom of the stairs. Again, the choice to remain calm downstairs, or go back up. She chooses screaming. We go back up.

During this, my friend is downstairs. She's pregnant, otherwise I would have hooked her up to an IV of alcohol to help with the pain being inflicted by Sadie's wails (mentally and physically). I ask her in frustration if she has any ideas. She said sure, put her in the room and walk out. Let her tear it up. Then she has to clean it up after. Take out any special items you do not want broken. And so, at wits end, I do that. And I close the door, go to the other side, and sit against it so she can not get out. She breaks a part of the door banging and wailing. I sit and cry. My friend leaves. 40 more minutes pass. Finally she calms.

So, my question. How the heck do you deal with a kid like this? How do you a) keep it from escalating to that level and b) calm a child once he/she is a full blown tantrum? I've searched the internet, and books, and asked some friends of toddlers. They give me advice on avoiding the situation, but not one resource can tell me how to deal with it once it happens.

I'm beginning to wonder if there's a behavioral problem. My friend today admitted she'd never seen anything like this. I tell people all the time about the difficulties, but few have witnessed the full blown Sadie Tantrum. I need Nanny 911!!!!

Imaginary Friends and Piggy Poo

Sadie has been home all week with the dreaded piggy poo... feverish, some congestion, but otherwise content to sit beside me, cuddled up watching movies while I work away on the laptop. She does, however, get 10 minute bursts of energy, and in these periods I've observed something new. The emergence of the Imaginary Friend (IF).

I do not know the friend's name yet. But this new friend is very, very funny. It often leaves her in tears from laughter, and wants to play baby at least a dozen times a day. IF is apparently part dog/part human as it loves to "tuddle" and seems to be quite small. It is also very complimentary, because Sadie keeps telling it "thank you" and "you are a very nice friend."

Katie never had an imaginary friend, so this is all new to me. It's hilarious to observe, and gives a bigger peek into Sadie's psyche and personality. And she keeps me in stitches. Right now IF and she are having a jumping contest. Next they're taking a bath and will be SuperDog and BatDog.

The Montessorian in me kind of cringes, but the artist in me applauds this new development. I see no harm in the behavior for now - it's simply a buddy to play with, which, frankly, is a welcome diversion at the moment.

Saying Goodbye to Paci...

For the past three months we've been talking to Sadie about her need to give up the beloved pacifier. She finally settled on giving it to her new little cousin, Evan. So, for the last two months, we've been working up to the big third birthday which would mark this momentous occasion. I knew it would be tough, but had no clue how bad it would be... There for a while I was actually worried she may cause permanent damage to her heart the way she was overworking it.

Being the Mom-of-the-Year I am, I decided to record some of it for posterity. A few director's notes before your viewing:

- You may want to turn your volume down before viewing. Waaaayyyy down.
- Not for the weak of heart. Ironic, since she's a heart kid.
- No children were permanently harmed in the making of this video, though it could have caused damage to eardrums for all in the vehicle.
- This was 20 minutes into it. Thus the gagging.
- Katie made the mistake of laughing at the absurdity of the situation (actually I think I started it). Thus the lashing out from Sadie to Katie.
- I do not normally "allow" temper tantrums, but was pretty helpless as we were on I-95. I figured, what the heck, she's strapped in and can't really hurt herself. Ignore it and it will end. Hopefully.
- I briefly considered exorcism, but determined it not to be needed after about 30 minutes, when she finally winded down...



Endnotes:
- Sadie was screaming "it's not funny!"
- Katie is the best big sister ever. In this two minute video alone she tried offering toys, diverting her attention to the pretty clouds and gave her her blanket.
- The windows were opened to ensure adequate oxygen flow, as Sadie seemed to be consuming most of what was in the car.

Bedtime resulted in another 15 minute episode much like this. I ended up putting her in her room and sat against her door as she wailed and banged, crying my eyes out. I hate to take her major source of comfort away, but also realize that it's this, or thousands in orthodontics bills years down the road.

I'll need major strength to get through this week...

Happy Third Birthday Sadie!!!

Make a Smilebox slideshow

The day this all started...

Three years ago, almost to the day, I headed to the hospital, thinking I was in labor. They sent me home. A few hours later I came back, and within 7 minutes Sadie entered the world. Then we got the news - she was gravely ill and would require open heart surgery as soon as she could be stabilized.

Before that time I would have never dreamed of blogging and sharing my personal life with the world. Hell, I hadn't even considered that my child could potentially have a heart defect. I didn't know how one second could change your life forever.

Since then I've written about the joys and horrors, the stress and the recovery our family faced in those crucial first months... chronicling hearts torn open and put back together, both figuratively and literally. Then it grew beyond that, to include the hopes and fears for my daughters, then updates for long-distance family and friends to finally, what it is or isn't today - a journal I turn to to release small bits of my brain to the world.

This time of year brings back so many bittersweet memories - the agony of watching Sadie being taken away, not knowing if she made it to UVA alive, the joy of the first moment I hold her, almost a month later. More than anything, my heart sings a song of celebration that overrides those sad memories, though they still persist in the background. Because more than anything, tomorrow is a day of joy over how far Sadie has come and the miracle of her survival.

Double Guessing Yourself

It's funny the timing of things...

When my kids get sick, I have a tough time gauging how really sick they are. If there's a fever, I usually take them into their pediatrician for a look. I often feel like a hypochondriac. What can I say, I've developed a distrust of the medical community in general, which has been combined with my tendancy to worry. With reason (Sadie's many medical mishaps and oversights, Jason's recent brush with death), I know, but a worrier none the less.

There's a flip side to that. Being a rational person and recognizing the current stress levels and prior experience, I often discount my gut and ignore symptoms until situations escalate further than they should.

The past 6-8 weeks is a great example of what I'm talking about. The experience at the hospital with Jason left me feeling I couldn't trust the simple diagnosis any longer. I ended up taking Sadie in a few days after his initial visit - to the ER no less - because she had 5 or so similar symptoms to his presenting illness. Her pulse ox then was around 94. They said it was likely because she has a heart defect and had been sick. I dismissed the episode of being one of neurosis and exhaustion.

The kicker is, Sadie hasn't really been well since that time. She's been OK, still full of spunk, but not quite at full steam. She's had several episodes of labored breathing, but in conjunction with a cold, congestion or a nasty cough. She just hasn't seemed to shake it. I've noted three seperate times that her nailbeds were a bit bluish. I chalked it up to her coughing and congestion. I thought perhaps it was pneumonia, it wasn't. Bronchitis, nope. I had lots of ideas, but never once allowed myself to think about the heart as being part of the issue. Yet, inside, I've been in turmoil, worried that something bigger is being missed. I tell myself it's because I'm surrounded by CHD-related things right now, and over vigilent with her. T

Today was visit #6 in 3 weeks for Sadie to the doctor. We saw one of our favorites, and she took a lot of time, checking her pulse ox, listening to her heart and lung function, asking the right questions. She felt Sadie was, indeed, experiencing periods of cyanosis ("blue" syndrome - when the body doesn't oxygenate as well as it should. Which shouldn't be happening based on her reports from the cardiologist. (Guess who's switching cardiologists after we're over this hump?)

An uneducated guess is that perhaps Sadie's pulmonary hypertension was never really resolved as her cardiologist told us over two years ago (without checking for further symptoms no less). I always ask for her doctors to check at her pulse ox at well visits (it's a simple, fast and "free" test), and usually it's 98-100, but when she's ill, it easily drops to lower 90s. If she's really sick, it's in the upper 80s.

I know it's nothing "serious" compared to the many challenges some of my friends face. I feel silly, to be honest, when I worry about Sadie's heart. My heart friends have children who on a GOOD day are in the upper 80s for sats. So I have a hard time feeling urgency with my child, who is often called "fixed" in the CHD community.

I feel like this is a bit of a push from above. A reminder that I'm on the right track in working to create some change for CHD patients and their families. And an even more poignant reminder to trust my instincts as a parent. To calm the brain, and let the gut do the talking when it comes to their healthcare.

Side note - I really missed Lobby Day today!

Love, Love, Love

Sadie has become the meanest little bugger to her sister. She kicks her, pulls her hair and pesters her endlessly. Katie will be sitting, playing quietly, and Sadie will come up and yank her hair, just to see the reaction. We've tried everything to stop it, but it just wouldn't end today. Katie was crying every 10 minutes for another hit, pinch or hair pull. It doesn't help that both girls are still feeling ill and housebound.

At one point Sadie yanked a chunk of hair out, sending Katie into a (very loud) spasm of cries. Jason had enough and went in and pulled Sadie's hair so she'd know how it felt. Sadie erupted in cries - both girls at the top of their lungs. Five minutes later it calmed down, only for Sadie to do it again. I decided to try another tactic.

I told Katie to fight back. If Sadie pulled her hair again (the pain infliction of that moment), she was to pull back - HARD. If she hit, hit back. Bit, bite back. I told her it wasn't the nicest thing to do, but that we needed to teach Sadie that a) it hurts and b) there are consequences (since making her sister cry seems to be more of a benefit then a consequence to Sadie).

Sure enough, a few minutes later they're playing quietly in their room. I hear Katie yowl in pain again and rush to the stairs to listen to what's happening. Katie pulls back, HARD. Sadie cried. I waited. Katie came to the top of the stairs.

"Mommy, I never want to do that again. I don't like to hurt Sadie." Awwwww.

I wish I say my tactic stopped it. It didn't. Sadie started scratching again. Now Katie's got hang ups because she didn't want to hurt her sister and feels bad about it. And the yowling continues...

Slacker McSlackity

I won't lie... I haven't felt like writing. So I haven't been. Life's taken some unexpected turns that have left me reeling a bit, but I'll be back in the game soon. In the mean time, I'll post some photos.

Sweatsuits - $15.
Reindeer headbands to be cut up and reused as cat and mouse ears - $ 2.
Staying up until 3 am making homemade Tom and Jerry costumes the night before the Halloween party - 5 hours of lost sleep.
Photos of your kids willingly wearing the most ridiculous costumes ever - Priceless.



Straw maze! A local farmer's market puts it up every year, and we have to go through it several times before the season is over.


There's no more chances of getting Sadie in an unposed shot. Every time I pull out the camera, she stops what she's doing (in this case, smashing pumpkin guts with the stem) to shout "Cheeez!"


Katie carved her pumpkin completely on her own! She held her mouth that way as she did it the entire time, too.



Crazy Hair Day at school on Halloween.
She loved it. Really she did.
Meanwhile, I hummed "Jem, she's truly outrageous..." all day long.

Sadie's ears weighed more than she did, and they kept flopping over with every breeze of wind. And we all couldn't stop laughing. Guess we'll go back to buying costumes next year - although the homemade ones will be good blackmail pictures later in life...

Hope you had a Happy Halloween, too!

Don't forget to VOTE on Tuesday!!!

Happy Birthday Sadie!

The 4th (and 5th... and 3rd...)

Last week I was exhausted, so I played hookie a half-day on the 3rd to get ready for a fun, extended weekend with the girls. Here are a few of my favorite memories from our long-overdue family time...

Wendesday, July 3rd. Hat Day!!

Just a few of the many hats we gathered and played with. As a bonus, I discovered that I have a living, breathing garden gnome in our home, which should help satisfy my desire to go out and buy a ceramic one for my yard.


July 4th Fun at Casa Thies

We spent the day listening to Katie beg us to "do fireworks" and Sadie scream for no reason, which she often does to keep us on our toes. I felt like crap all day (thank you, Lilly drug company), so we stayed home and created our own festivities. The evening ended with our discovery that Sadie is terrified of whistling fireworks, Carly likes to eat discarded firework containers and that fireworks that "shoot flaming fireballs" are illegal in Virginia for a darn good reason. Thankfully, it had rained just before we set that one off... the singed leaves that fell down from the sky were easy to stamp out in the damp grass.

Whee! Mommy managed to talk us into matching, patriotic outfits!

The moonbounce... always a hit in our household.

Well, until mommy gets in, gracefully hitting the vent tube and the whole thing collapses.
Then it's just funny, not so much "fun."


July 5, The Tomato Festival

For the first time in the three years that we've lived in Bubbasville, we braved the natives and tried out the local Tomato Festival. I enjoyed camouflage watching (I can still see you, people!), the plethora of churches trying to push water on me in exchange for my soul, and watching the many ways in which people displayed some nifty confederate flag stickers that proclaimed "I support national Confederacy month." One very pregnant woman Jason encountered had a sticker on each... well, use your imagination. Good times.

My parents joined us for the humid outing, and despite the stress involved in taking small children out, we managed to create a few nice memories while there.

Mom stops to cheese it up with the girls and Mark Warner, US Senate candidate and previous VA governor. I don't think she realized he's a fairly liberal democrat (did you, Mom?! wahahahaha). Warner was rumored to be a VP consideration by Obama, but he declined, citing his desire to have more time with his family than that position would allow. So, instead, he was sweating his butt off at our hillbilly fair in order to garner a few votes. Yet another reason why I will never enter politics.

Katie fed a donkey at the petting zoo area, and the donkey became her new best friend. He followed her everywhere, nuzzling her for another scratch behind the ears and more food. I so wanted to take him home with us. The neighbors would LOVE it! Katie agreed, but Jason was having no part of that discussion. Sadie, meanwhile, spent time kissing and hugging a calf, mooing softly to it. If only I could get her to be that sweet to her sister.

In the midst of all of the festivities, a photographer walked up and asked if he could take photos of the girls while they decorated tomatoes. I got an email today, and it seems that we are once again "featured" in our local paper... yeeee haww! Not only that, I think we made the front page news. And, my mug on this shot is MUCH worse than my last one in this exciting publication. At least the girls looked adorable. Jason and I looked angry and uninterested. Which is probably accurate, but all the same... front page?! Ugh.

It's official - I think I have to admit we're now locals. But you'll never see camouflage, rebel flags or big bangs adorning on this Bubbaite!

Not what I had planned...

I awoke this morning, once again, to chaos and disaster. This time the girls had taken the newly purchased DragonBerry Shampoo and Blueberry Burst Body Wash and lathered everything from waist-height down on the lower level of our house into bubbles (or at least applied a slimy film which would later be "bubbled"). Seriously, what did I do in my past life to deserve this retribution?!

Every baby doll, both dogs, the coffee table, all the Disney plasticine toys, the Shliech animals, the bathroom sink, floor and both girls' lower extremeties were covered in the sticky goo. "But Mommy," Katie told me as I repressed a scream of rage as I realized the magnitude of the latest morning disaster, "We didn't go outside. And now the house smells good." I rinsed and washed, producing even more bubbles (much to their delight) and still found a spot on the carpet that is deeply stained with shampoo. I ran the steam vac over it this afternoon only to... you guessed it... produce more bubbles.

I threatened Katie with an eternity of time out if she makes one SINGLE other mess before I can hit the bottom of the stairs in the morning. Double eternity if she lets Sadie out of her crib. Her reply? Sadie can get out on her own now. Oh crap.

I never got a chance to memorialize George Carlin, one of my all-time favorite comedians who passed away last week. I did so this morning by muttering, thinking or screaming into a pillow six of the seven dirtiest words from his old 70's routine. The 7th word just didn't apply, or I would have used that one, too.

To make it all even better, I'm having some hellacious withdrawals from a medication I started a couple of months ago. When I had Katie, I began to suffer from anxiety attacks (though I didn't know that is what they were at the time). I did some medications back then for a few months, got my head screwed on straight again, and weaned off of them. I'd been able to control them since (now knowing what they were and how they came on) on my own, but in March they began to rear their ugly head once again. I wonder why? That was about the time the girls started their early morning escapades. So, I went to my primary care "nurse" (do doctors still exist?) and asked for something to help me along for a while. She gave me Cymbalta.

Two drugged-out weeks later I started having weird symptoms. Increased anxiety (but no panic attacks) and newly onset depression that I'd never before experienced. Insomnia. Cold sweats. Hot flashes. Irritability (yes, I can be worse!). Constipation like a... well, like it was not good. Then last week in New Orleans it doubled, and I added the shakes to the list. Enough was enough, so I quit. Cold turkey. I had only been on it for about 50 days, so figured I'd do every other day for a week and stop.

Now I have more fun symptoms. Night terrors (which I've never had before). Aching all over. Sharp pains in my legs and feet. Blurry vision. Extreme fatigue. Chills. What the heck?! I looked it all up online tonight and found out that these are all fairly common withdrawal symptoms from Cymbalta. I should have known, given my (and my kids') history with meds. I'm about to go the Tom Cruise route and get all psycho about pharmaceuticals. Tomorrow I get to visit with the lovely nurse who suggested this route toward wellness. I can't wait. She has no idea what she's in for. If I'm in a padded room by the end of the day, please promise to visit and wear a sunny yellow color to cheer me up.

So yeah. After being home for two nights full of night terrors, bathroom visits and incessant sweating, I'm awoken to what looks like a slime attack from a Ghostbusters flick. The devil mommy on one shoulder was oh so close to convincing me to spank them both and send them to bed, as advised in nursery rhymes and by most parents with more than 5 children. But angel-Montessori-loving mommy on the other side balanced her out and the girls ended up with a stern admonishment, a few timeouts throughout the day as required and the threat of eternal timeout and no-playdates-ever-again for Katie should she ever decide to do this again.

Please, please, let the threats work. I need a morning off!!!

Kicking Off the Summer

Summer has barely started, but we've been busy.

Katie's preschool days are officially over, and she graduated near the end of May. I'd be lying if I didn't say that I'm a bit sad... she just seems to be growing up too quickly. Since graduation she's also finished up a season of soccer (and received her first-ever trophy, which she is SOOO proud of), had a ballet recital, stayed a week with her cousins and grandparents, went to a local amusement park with a friend and has still found lots of time to climb the walls and tell me how bored she is. This is week 3 of summer. Here's a few photo updates of our fun...

The Dora-The-Hooker Dress. Here it is. The most hideous children's apparel ever conceived. Notice the black and white polka-dots. Purple, lime green and orange stripes on the skirt, completed with pink tights and ballet slippers. And, you can't see it well here, but there's a round disk pinned to her head that matches. For this costume, we paid $60. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat.

At both her rehearsal and recital I held back tears derived from laughter. The little ones were just so cute, it was almost unbearable. Of course Katie's class had the ugliest dresses ever imagined. The other prima ballerinas had gorgeous, poofy dresses that reminded one of sugarplums, flowers, and childhood dreams of fairy land.

Katie's reminded me of women that I've seen working the streets in Tijiuana.



Dressing Herself. Sadie's all about doing everything herself these days. She picks out her own clothes most days and screams the others when I insist she wear something that is presentable outside of the house.

Here we see her wearing her very FAVORITE thing in the world - the Gap Rainbow Jacket. The Gap Rainbow Jacket is worn even on 100 degree days with humitures over 110. I don't fight it. I figure she'll take it off if she gets hot enough.

Her other favorites are also in use in this photo. Notice the poofy, flowery skirt. It has matching knickers that she loves to show anyone who wants to see them. And the black, shiny shoes with rhinestones. This girl loves the bling.

She is very particular about her clothing, and once she chooses a favorite, I have to be sure to wash it at least twice weekly... she won't go anywhere without it.


Popsicles and the Pool. Jason's only request for Father's Day was that we spent the day together relaxing. We had planned a trip to the amusement park, but skipped out when it got too hot outside. Instead, our entire family enjoyed a great day outside. The girls lounged in the pool, sucking on popsicles, until they decided to get rowdy and drench mommy and daddy with the water that is now no longer in the pool. It was a nice relaxing day - one we rarely share together, with all four of us just enjoying the outdoors and each other's company. I hope for many more days like this this summer!

Another Mixed Bag

Renewed Ban on Walmart. Due to the need to penny pinch thanks to ever inflating gas prices and the inability to get rid of our gas-guzzling SUV, I broke my promise and headed to my most hated, dreaded, local W. I finally justified my hiatus from shopping there - not a penny saved. I spent quite a while perusing, carefully seeking bargains. What I found is that my beloved Targét is MUCH less expensive in most areas - kids clothes (and much more stylish), snack foods, toiletries and diapers to name the big ones. Yay - I can once again justify my hatred of the ugly side of big business!

Preschool Ballet Rocks. More to come on that in a later post, when I load the photos and video. Let's just say I cried my eyes out... from laughter. It was well worth every penny invested in the hideous, Dora the Hooker costume for that one hour of comedy.

Yackity Yack. Sadie's talking up a storm these days. Today she got a scrape on her knee. Tonight she told me as I changed her "Mama, I Bad Boo Boo Knee" clear as a bell. She's 21 months in 2 days. She loves to boss Katie around... "TahTay, BAFF!" "TahTay, KeenUp!" and "TahTay, go ny-ny."

Japan is ON! Yep... it's definite... I'm going in 8 weeks!

More requests for your energy/thoughts/prayers:

• Amanda is back in the big house for another intensive round of chemo in an effort to wipe out the leukemia cells that survived the first round. Also, it looks like she's facing bone marrow transplant in the near future. Stay strong, 'Manda!
  
• Jameson is back home and healing after a successful Fontan (heart surgery). Hooray!
• Harlie goes in tomorrow for her jaw reconstruction. Good luck, Harlie, and hang in there, Christy!!!!
  

Worst. Morning. Ever.

I awoke to the sound of a cat mewing this morning. Strange, I thought to myself in my semi-conscious state... our cat Buster doesn't meow. He makes a gutteral "growww" sound. But this was definitely a meow. Hmmm.

I opened my bedroom door to find a strange cat sitting there. Interesting. How did he/she get into my house?

I stumbled in to brush my teeth and put on some eyes (glasses or contacts) so that I could get a better look at our feline visitor. As I put in my first contact, I thought 'maybe he came in last night with Jason, who didn't notice.' As I put in the next contact I realized it was quiet downstairs... too quiet. Especially for 7 a.m. I raced down the stairs.

As I came to the bottom of the flight, I heard a bump and a scream. Katie and Sadie were by our kitchen door, wearing jackets and their pajamas. Katie was yelling at Carlie that she was a bad dog for knocking over Sadie. Sadie was howling.

I went over to pick up Sadie and to scold Katie - first for getting her sister out of her crib (a no-no) and second for taking her outdoors without permission while mommy and daddy slept (a not-previously explained no-no, but a common sense no-no). While lecturing Katie, I noticed a smell. And that Sadie's butt was soaked. And that the smell was overpowering, and worse by the second. I pulled out the full trash bag from our kitchen can, ready to stick the soon-to-be discarded diaper in it and took Sadie to the changing table. She was covered in poo - not solid, not cute, but the nasty, sticky, diarrhea type of stuff. Those who are eating while reading this may want to stop now.

As I mopped up Sadie and gagged profusely, I failed to hear the rustling coming from the kitchen area. I'd also forgotten about the strange cat in our home. I was intent on hazmat removal of toxic substances. I finished with the diaper duty to discover that underneath it all, Sadie had the worst diaper rash. Ever. She howled as I tried to wipe her, and screamed when I put Desitin on. Great.

I wrapped up the diaper in the first of many bags to dispose of and took it to the kitchen. Only to discover that the dogs had pulled out aforementioned trashbag and had strewn the contents all across my carpet in the living room. Yes, that carpet that I'd spent two hours the night before steam cleaning. That's the one.

As I picked up trash, I discovered another surprise. A mostly-melted popsicle (bright red and purple) sitting on our entertainment center, dripping steadily on... you guessed it... the freshly cleaned carpet. Oh joyous day.

I knew Sadie wasn't feeling great, but decided it was still a great day to go to Grandma's for some babysitting. So I struggled to get everyone in the car, to my mom's and back. Coming back, I opened the door only to be almost bowled over by one freaked- out cat that did not belong to me. He shot out that door like lightening - no doubt due to the smell emanating from our no-longer-fresh-scented home. I broke out the Lysol, stripped Sadie's room, re-steam-cleaned, lit every candle I owned and, for good measure, brewed some coffee to help offset the overwhelming aromas floating about our home. My employee later went in to use the restroom, and noted how fresh it smelled in our home. Hah.

I need to install some new locks. At first I thought about keyed locks that have the keyhole on both sides. Then I realized that that would be a serious fire hazard. So then I thought a chain lock would do it, then I realized that Katie would just stand on a chair and open it. And if Katie does that now, who knows what her rebel-rouser sister will do in a year or two.

I asked Katie tonight when I put her to bed how long they'd played outside this morning. (I'd asked her the same thing this morning during the "lecture" and she said just a few minutes). She informed me that it wasn't that long... they had waited for the sun to come up first.

I told a few people this story today, and I got the usual, "You'll miss these days when they get older." Actually, no I won't. I may miss the age, or the giggles, cuddles and laughs, but I will NOT miss the diarrhea-filled, strange-cat laden, floor-ruining, heart-stopping days like this. Not. At. All.

Sisters

Hangin' out in a toy bin on a typical Thursday morning around 6 am. All the toys had been taken from the bin and littered through the living room already. You will note some sort of orange substance on Sadie's face and PJs if you look close enough. And Katie's stopped talking only long enough to smile for the camera. The nonstop litany of 5-year-old conversation started the second the flash was gone. And fighting quickly ensued.

But they did look like adorable little angels together for a moment.

Good Report from the Cardiologist!

Yay - finally some good news to report! Sadie had her cardiology appointment today, which we'd been dreading/anticipating anxiously the last couple of weeks since her poor x-ray and pulse ox incidents. It looks like her pulse ox levels were down to some sort of respiratory infection or other ailment, but not because of her heart.

According to the cardiologist, her coronary arteries look great, there's only mild stenosis of the pulmonary vein (to be expected - will have to be watched and may one day require a stent, but for now is a-ok) and her right ventricle pressures look very good (her right ventricle has to be in good shape as with her condition it is responsible for the normal left-ventricle function). These are the three key things to watch with TGA patients as they develop, and all three areas look good. Even better news... there is no sign of pulmonary hypertension any longer. He said it's quite normal for it to abate after surgery and ample time to heal. Hooray!

He also said her pulse ox will run mid-90s frequently, and it's nothing to be concerned about. I had been incorrectly told at UVA that she'd be 99-100, and it simply isn't true. Especially when she's congested, has a chest cold, etc. She was running 96 today, which he was perfectly fine with . If it gets down in the 80s, then we need to double check, otherwise, she's good to go for another year before she needs another echocardiogram.

I also had an opportunity to talk to him a bit about my feelings, recent findings and insurance issues with UVA, which has been a sore spot for me since it was he who told me the only place to send Sadie was UVA. He explained his reasoning, and I agreed we made the right choice for Sadie, but implored him to respect his patients enough to give them options and explain risks more clearly. Though it is a time of shock and stress, often, when he meets with them, I still feel it's essential to have all the information in front of you so that you can make the best decision for your child. He was very kind, agreed to give more consideration to this and thanked me for my frankness. Good guy.

It's amazing to me every time Sadie's had an echo to see that little heart pumping, it's valves moving, the blood flowing. It reminds me of how far we have come since the day she was born, and what a miracle she is. It reminds me of how lucky we are to have her screaming, hysterical little self as part of our family. And it reminds me of all the people who came together to save this one little life. There I go getting a little weepy...

Enough... we're off to the park to celebrate!!