It hurt me more than it did him

Yesterday afternoon, Carter's fever started to spike again to about 101. When we first went in to get the boys checked out on Monday, I had been told by the nurse that if Carter's fever wasn't going back down by Friday then we needed to come back in. I gave Carter another dose of Tylenol and called to get him scheduled for the next morning.

This morning while I got Carter ready to go, he seemed pretty good. A little boogery and still congested, but not lethargic and miserable like he had been. I almost contemplated canceling his appointment, but thought it would be best to still go - just in case. Bill had already taken a vacation day since he will be busy all weekend at a tournament, so he and Logan hung back at the house to play.

We got there and our pediatrician checked him out instead of a nurse. She got the rundown of what went on all week after our appointment on Monday. I told her that I thought he might have an ear infection since he had been pulling at it. I guess he had a slight fever this morning while at the office (I didn't ask how high and nobody told me. I didn't even think of it at the time) and while she watched and listened to him breath the muscles on his back pulled tight, tight enough that his ribs became more defined. This was not a good sign.

"This isn't supposed to happen," she told me. She didn't seem overly concerned, like it was an emergency, but we had to do some tests. "It could be a few things and we need to narrow it down so we can find the best treatment plan. He could have RSV as it's still the tail end of the season. It could be a viral infection or it could be Pneumonia." I stood there staring at her with a straight face as my heart dropped into my stomach.

"We need to get him to the lab and get a nose collection done for the RSV test and then we need to do some blood work and check his white blood cells," she explained. She then went on about how we could give him antibiotics, but she doesn't feel comfortable treating patients without knowing the cause of the infection (this is one reason why I like her). Everything sounded simple enough and I took a deep breath as we got ready to head on over to the lab. My hopes for an ear infection now turned into hopes of RSV -which would be the easier infection to manage.

After a short wait in the waiting room, we were escorted into one of the back office rooms where two clinicians were decked out in blue paper gowns, safety goggles, gloves and face masks. I was a little taken aback as it looked like they were going to do surgery on my baby. The shorter, sweet girl explained what they were about to do while a taller younger guy stood back to assist her. Her explanation was invasive. "What test would you like us to do first?", she asked me. "I have no idea. You guys are the professionals. Whatever you think is best." I replied.

They decided to do the blood draw first. I sat in the phlebotomy chair with Carter in my lap. They strapped a rubber band around his small, chubby arm and worked very hard to find a vein. He cried and cried and cried. I tried my best to keep it together, to stay calm, stroke his hair reassuring him that it would be OK. After sanitizing his arm, the girl inserted the needle in Carter's arm. He screamed a hoarse, painful scream. Tears streamed down my face, wetting the top of his hair. "Are you OK, Mom?", the sweet nurse asked me. "Yeah," I lied. His vein wasn't giving them any blood and she dug around to get the sample they needed. Carter continued to cry, grasping for my hair to hold onto and I continued to sniffle and attempt to comfort him.

They decided to go to Plan B because they weren't getting any blood. Another nurse was brought in to see if she could find his vein on the other arm while the younger tall guy left. After much effort, she announced that she didn't feel comfortable and to call in another nurse. While waiting for this person, they decided to go ahead and get the sample collected from his nose.

I hugged him and cuddled him close to calm him down, his head resting on my shoulder in the crook of my neck and his sore little arm draped around my chest. I rubbed his back and rocked him back and forth telling him that it was OK. He had never hugged me so close before, usually too interested in all that is going on around him. But this time, this time he didn't want to know any more and preferred to stay in my arms.

After calming him down, I placed him on the exam table where the short, sweet nurse did the collection, the second taller replacement nurse held onto his head and I held his arms and legs down. He cried more, but this time was so exhausted that he didn't fight it. He just cried. While he cried, I turned my head to silently cry on my arm. The nurses were trying their best to comfort him, speaking softly and apologizing for all that he had to go through. Fortunately, this was an easy collection and very short lived.

I picked him up again to cuddle while we waited for the fourth nurse to come in. The short, sweet nurse left to work with another young boy about Logan's age, maybe a year older. The fourth nurse came in and we sat in the chair again while she looked for the vein in his other arm. They searched for quite some time, all the while Carter crying. The fourth nurse was very confident and quickly got the needle inserted as soon as she found the vein again after sanitizing his arm. He cried his hoarse, painful scream again - a scream a mother can feel in the core of her body and I continued to stroke his tear-stained hair telling him it was OK. For some reason, the blood was running slow and it was taking forever to get the sample. While Carter wailed on my lap, shrill, excruciating screams of intense pain came from the boy Logan's age in the next room. "Oh my God," I quietly gasped with my hand over my mouth as tears ran down my cheek.

After a few more minutes, the confident nurse thought that they collected the absolute minimum needed for testing and hoped for the best as she removed the needle from Carter's arm. They taped his puncture and I soothed him again. Both of his arms were sore - the left already bruising; his face red, spotty and blotchy from crying so hard and his body drained of all energy. It was finally over with and I just held him tight. "Are you OK, Mom?" one of the nurses asked me again. "Sort of," I replied more honestly as tears welled up in my eyes again.

The nurses began to clean up the room while I comforted Carter and got him strapped into his car seat. I thanked them, apologizing for crying. They were nice and hoped that Carter felt better soon.

On the drive home, Carter fell asleep, completely worn out. I pulled into the garage trying my best to keep everything in. I carefully took the seat out of the car, walked in the house and without saying much to Bill, walked right upstairs into our room and sobbed. The fear that Carter could be seriously ill, the trauma from seeing him in so much pain at the lab - it all came spilling out.

We got settled in at home and tried to recover while we waited for the call from our pediatrician. All of us were able to take much needed naps. The Doctor called with the results right in the middle of our deep slumber.

"The RSV is negative and his blood work came back fine. He must have some virus. Let's wait it out 24 hours and see what happens. If he has another spike in his fever or if he gets worse clinically - not eating, throwing up, difficulty breathing - bring him in. If he's not better by Monday, our next step is a chest x-ray."

I tried to go back to sleep after the call while Bill got ready to go to the course to practice. I got a bit more in before the kids woke up. Carter smiled as if nothing had happened, his bruised, taped arms reaching out for me to cuddle him. While Bill was gone, Carter smiled and played and coughed and sniffled. He seemed to be doing somewhat better and I obsessively took his temperate every half hour. It was normal.

I think he'll be OK. I think we just have to ride it out.

I hate this part of Motherhood

Nobody likes it when their kids are sick, especially their babies. This is one of the worst parts of being a parent because you feel so helpless and hate to see your kids miserable and suffering. You always want to be able to fix it for them and make everything A-OK.

Logan has recovered just fine. In fact, the next day after our appointment, he was running around outside, playing in the sandbox and playing "whack-a-mole" with the yellow jackets that are emerging from under our back deck. Other than being a little cranky every now and then which is easily resolved with a nap - he's fine.

Carter on the other hand, wow - he's having a hard time. I can't really tell yet if this is just how he is when he's sick or if he's really that miserable. On one hand I want to chalk it up to the innate beginnings of The Man Cold, but the kid is just not right. My mommy gut is telling me that his whimpers and sad looks are real. He is sick, sick, sick. He sleeps A TON right now, which is exactly what he needs to do. But he's only up for 30 minute increments before he goes back down to sleep for 1-2 hour stretches.
He's nursing fine, eating a bit and diaper changes seem normal - he's just extremely lethargic and he has snot pouring out of his nose like a faucet. I am constantly getting the boogers out and washing his nose out with saline spray. He has a fever that comes and goes and is pretty mild. Sometimes he'll grab at his ear. I'm not one to pump my kids full of medicine, but Carter has had more Tylenol this week than I'm sure Logan ever has in his 3 years. And he needs it. I went ahead and called the clinic to get him in tomorrow morning because he's not getting any better.

I hope this is just how he is when he's not feeling well and it's nothing more than a cold. I hope, I hope, I hope.

I thought I could make him smile by trying out the swing on a nice night after dinner. Guess not. He just slouched there and looked so sad.

I got it from you, Mom

I think it's common knowledge that kids learn behaviors and habits directly from their parents, right? We've all experienced the parrot repeats of swear words (or at least, some of us have) and I know Logan's defiant attitude is not only because he's 3, but because I am the same way (yes, I'm a snot - I know). BUT! At least I'm not teaching him just the bad behaviors that come from me.

When I have clients come over to train, the kids are usually with us. Carter is content to sit in his walker (that he's too short to walk with) and Logan either plays with toys, sits and watches on the futon or gets in trouble for getting in the way and is sent to his room. He looks forward to the workouts and is excited as anyone I've ever known about his ability to do a bicep curl. Thankfully, I have nice clients that like to watch Logan demonstrate his physical abilities as he does crunches along with them or attempts to do an overhead press with 5 pound weights.

A few days ago Bill bought a pull-up bar because he's starting the P90X program with his friends and co-workers (this will be a post for another day when someone inevitably gets injured and quits the program - I've already given my professional unsolicited opinion about it). I've been meaning to get some more equipment for client sessions, so I wasn't about to say no to this new purchase. He installed it in the laundry room doorway where clients will have to run up a flight of stairs to use it (awesome). It's also where Logan can see it all the time and he is very interested in tying his best at a pull-up.
The night Bill installed the pull-up bar, Logan was all over it. We got some pretty cute pictures and video. My favorite part of the video (other than him sporting his CARS sleeve that Bill temporary tattooed him with) is when he says "I'm really STRONG!" It makes me laugh every time I watch it.

Make an on-line slide show at www.OneTrueMedia.com

This morning while we hung out recovering from the crud, I got Carter down to sleep for what seemed like the 5th nap of the day and Logan and I were just chillin' on the couch. Out of nowhere, he puts his hands behind his head while laying down and exclaims, "Look Mom! I'm working out! I'm doing crunches!" Again, I had to smile and give him props for a good workout.

So, while he may talk back and have way too much sass for a 3 year old because I can't seem to keep my mouth shut, at least he's most likely going to be one of the strongest kids in his class and hitting the gym when he's old enough to and won't hate working out. There's one battle won right there.

At least he can tell me

Over the weekend, both boys got colds. Logan got his first and being the ever-obedient child that he is, when we told him to leave Carter alone, he promptly went over to breath in his face and grope his hands. It didn't take long for Carter to catch the crud.

It seemed to hit a peak for Logan on Sunday and he was complaining about his ears. When I called the clinic, they were closed. We had to wait until today to go. I made an appointment for Carter to get checked out even though all he had was a really bad cough. Shortly after I scheduled the appointment, Carter went downhill, spiking a fever of 102 and not feeling well AT ALL. Logan seemed to be doing better than Sunday, but was still complaining about his ears.

We got in this afternoon and both boys are sick. Logan has a double ear infection (his first), sinus congestion and a small cough all tied together with a low-grade fever. Carter had a higher fever, worse congestion and a horrible cough, but at least his ears were clear. So, we're on lock down this week until everyone is fever-free for 24 hours. Logan will be on antibiotics for 10 days and both of them will be on a timely regimen of Tylenol.

Bleh.

Although having sick kids sucks (say that one 10 times fast), it was great that Logan could actually tell me he was sick and his ears hurt. It took the guesswork right out of it! Loved it! He was a great patient too, doing as the nurses asked - breathing in and out so they could listen to his lungs and describing the pain in his ears. Ahhhh, communication. Such a wonderful skill.

Hopefully we'll be on the mend soon.

Fishy #2

The other day while doing our weekly shopping at Wal-Mart, Bill made us all stop by the pet department and stand there staring at the fish tanks trying to decide if Logan was old enough for a fish. He's been thinking about this for weeks and every week we go shopping, we make the pit stop to the pet department and contemplate fish responsibilities (and I remind him that he will be the one cleaning the tank). He finally came to the conclusion that a fish would be a good purchase.

Logan picked out his fish, the biggest gold fish in the tank. He promptly named it "Fishy". We bought a classic round fish bowl that included a starter kit with gravel, a pathetic, odd-looking plant and fish food. We were set. When we got home, Bill had "The Fish Talk" with Logan, explaining the rules like not taking the fish out of the tank and don't put anything into the tank. Mainly, just be happy with only looking at your fish and don't expect to torture it like you do the other pets.

Somehow, we expected him to listen. Does he ever listen to anything else we say? No. But we were delusional enough to think it would happen now. Maybe it was the fluorescent lights they use in Wal-Mart that drained us of all rational thought. You think that's a conspiracy theory? Take a look at who is shopping at Wal-Mart. Case closed.

For the entire day he had his fish, I lost count with how many times I told Logan to get whatever he had in his hand out of the tank (tubes of lotion, dinosaurs, books, etc). I threatened to take his fish away. I even caught him hovering over the bowl as if he were going to spit in the tank. He was immediately banished from his room and the baby gate went up. For Fishy's safety.

Last night Bill came home from work and began the bath routine with Logan while I got Carter fed and ready for bed. I had just planted my butt on the couch with the laptop to mindlessly surf facebook when Bill came downstairs. "Did you know Fishy is dead?", he asked. I was not terribly surprised. The poor fish only lasted a couple of days, if even that. "What should we do?", Bill asked me. "Well, we need to tell him the truth", I insisted.

Bill continued to get Logan tucked in all the while Logan talking about how his fish was sleeping. I cringed. I've never wanted to lie to my kids about life lessons and now we were about to explain death. I wondered if he would even grasp the concept considering we're not religious. It's not like we could tell him that Fishy went to heaven to be with God and Jesus. Ugh. How were were going to do this on a 3 year old level.

Bill came back downstairs after Logan was asleep. "I'm going to get another fish. He's not going to understand death right now". Not wanting to debate it since we had clearly done enough of that this week, I just shrugged my shoulders. "Sure".

And that is how Fishy #2 came to be. We'll see how long this one lasts.

Edited to add:
Fishy #2 is dead 3 hours after publishing this post. Logan went down for a nap and the fish was alive when he went down. No more than 15 minutes after that, the fish was dead, or really, sort of dead. Pretty close. He was seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. He didn't even make it 24 hours. We are now going to talk about death and the big pond in the sky. Or something like that. Needless to say, there will not be a Fishy #3.

The showdown

From the moment I woke up this morning, my anxiety was in full swing. I was able to do our morning stuff as usual - make the kids breakfast, hang out and play with dinosaurs, but once I got Carter down for a nap I turned on some cartoons for Logan and had a shower cry. This was just nuts. I had tried my best to think happy thoughts and get my mind off of what was to come. After dropping the kids off at a friends house and picking up Bill, I could feel my arms going numb again the closer we got to the office. We sat in the parking lot for a quick minute to breath and chill before going in. I knew we had done everything we could to get ready and I just had to relax (as much as I could).

We get to the office and have to wait in the waiting room with Grandma L and Aunt Ju-Ju for what seemed like eternity (15 minutes). All three of them, Bill, Grandma L and Aunt Ju-Ju are just chatting away "Hey, how about that weather!" and "Did you hear so and so broke their arm?" and a bunch of random crap as if nothing happened and we weren't about to go into a session and talk about all of the horrid things they've done. I sat there in silence irritated to hell that they were doing this - BUT THIS IS WHAT THEY DO. One day they call you a crazy bitch and the next day they want to go out to lunch.

We finally all sit down in the room with the counselor and start introductions and goals. Grandma L wants to get the family back together again, Aunt Ju-Ju just wants to come to an understanding (like Bill) and they all know that I'm done and there to support Bill. We started to go over the history. She read the copies of the emails that were sent after the Virus Visit and we discussed the difference of poor judgment and character flaws. In this case, either way the in-laws are screwed. If their judgment was so poor that they didn't think exposing a 4 week old newborn to a serious virus was a big deal - I can NEVER trust them to be alone with the kids. If it's a character flaw (which I think it is), same situation. Can't trust them. I really think it's a character flaw because I refuse to believe that two teachers, one who happened to teach child development, are ignorant enough about basic health care precautions. Especially since Grandma L touts herself to be a child expert and is highly irritated and offended that I don't ask her for advice.

While the notes and copies of the emails helped, the counselor said I shouldn't write anymore because it's a self-fulfilling prophecy. I'm not stopping because then I'll be liable to rip someones arm off and shove it up where the sun doesn't shine. I'd rather not go postal.

Grandma L, as predicted, cried and played the victim. Aunt Ju-Ju, as predicted, put all of the blame on me. She kept saying things like, "It's evident she doesn't want to be a part of our family". Well, no kidding! Bill has been bribed to divorce me, there have been many personal attacks, I've put up with all of this crap for 10 years and they think I'd want to stick around and keep taking it?

Bill DID speak up when Grandma L tried to lie and boy, did she try and wiggle her way out of answering. We were talking about the beginning of the history and when the relationships all fell apart - when Grandma L told me I wasn't smart enough to be a Doctor when I was leaving for grad school with Bill. In the session, she turned to me "Well, how many credits did you have? You were struggling with math. I was looking out for you FINANCIALLY (making sure to emphasize this part and repeating it) because we were supporting you (unbeknown to me at the time). I never even said it like that". Then both Bill and I said at the same time, "Yes you did". And then he said, "Mom, I heard you". She sat there, huffed and rolled her eyes.

She was way pissed that I showed up with a manila file full of "evidence". There were many times that she "forgot" about events, like the time after she cut me off and we had the driveway conversation where she wouldn't come into the house. She kept pretending like it never happened and it took every ounce of self control for me to not whip out the printed blog post to read aloud. I wish I had been able to be heard like that, because I think that is a MAJOR part of the issue. I wanted to read so much - I had everything I needed to prove her wrong and all we did was listen to her huff and sniffle. But, really - what did I expect. Again, here's the false hope of her possibly taking responsibility for her actions (the same blind hope that Bill has).

Other than going over a fraction of the issues - we really didn't get anywhere (as to be expected). The session took an hour and a half since there was so much to go over. The counselor was good and began to touch on some important issues - but you know how counseling goes. This stuff takes time. We were given a very good graph handout on "crucial conversations" that is very beneficial for us even outside of the in-law issue. We talked about the boundary issues and why we are having a difficult time. Is it because we all have vastly different views on boundaries or is it because there is mistrust? If it's a difference of opinion, then we can come to a common understanding. If it's mistrust, we may never resolve this because it's a core issue. Considering everything that we've been through, I don't trust them at all.

I was very satisfied with myself during the session because I didn't shed so much as a tear. I was able to stay calm and get my point across and be stern when I needed to be. I tried my best to stifle any emotion in there and did a pretty good job. And I had my stupid notes and preparation to thank for that.

After the session, Grandma L and Aunt Ju-Ju left without saying anything. They actually hid in the building until we left (or were leaving). Talk about a major pout. Bill will most likely see them again before they leave this weekend and I'm sure I'll hear more about them pretending that nothing is wrong.

Overall, this is exactly what I expected. They still refuse to accept any responsibility and they certainly are NOT sorry for anything. Aunt Ju-Ju was quite proud of herself for sending the nasty email over Christmas and Grandma L tried to justify telling me that I wasn't smart enough. Nobody ever said, "Gee - that was wrong and I can see how it hurt you. I'm sorry it happened this way". NOTHING LIKE THAT. It was all, "Kristin has these hidden rules that nobody can figure out". "Kristin doesn't want to be a part of our family". "I'm tired of Kristin's shit". "It's all Kristin's fault this is happening". "We never said/did those things. I don't remember any of that". "That's not what I meant".

We are not going to get anywhere with them. They will NEVER change. And now? Now I'm being suckered into trying to keep working with them. Bill thinks they are going to change. He refuses to give up hope that they will actually be normal. At this point, I feel like he'd rather subject me to their crap to keep giving them another chance, time and time again.

Preparing for a trial

This is it. The eve of the family session. I feel like I'm going to hurl and I've felt like this for the last two days. I haven't had much of an appetite during the day and end up famished at dinner, which makes me a bit concerned about my milk supply again. As the days have gotten closer, the hours creep up, my anxiety increases so much that I get stomach pain and arm numbness to where my hands tingle.

And this? Is better than how I've handled it all before, oddly enough. I've been working very hard on controlling my anxiety over this session and Bill has been helping me tremendously by sitting down with me at night and listening to how I feel and just talking with me. His support has been significant.

We met with our marriage counselor on Friday morning to discuss this upcoming family session with a brand new counselor that Aunt Ju-Ju had scheduled with from her employee benefit program and to plan as much as we could. We are moving forward with a cut-off from me and the kids and Bill's goal is to figure out what kind of relationship he's going to have with them. We planned to have a release of records signed so that the two counselors could talk and cut down on the re-hashing of history.

On Tuesday I called the new counselor and had a mini-session on the phone to give her the heads up of what our situation is and what our goal is, so that there are no misguided attempts at trying to make us be a happy family. She seemed nice and assured me through my tears that she would not let the session get out of control since my big fear is getting ganged up on. I feel like I'm walking into a firing squad.

Last night Bill and I spent a long time going over the 'in-law' labels here on the blog making a time line with cliff notes. It was astounding to see it all organized and realize how horrible our life has been with them, how unhappy many of our holidays were and how hard we've tried to work with them only to be met with childish temper tantrums. We have everything we need to stay on track, limit the amount of emotion and stop the lies as they are being said.

This is it. The beginning of the end.

Chip

Tonight after I got Carter to bed, Logan came running inside from playing in the back yard crying. I asked him what had happened and as usual, he couldn't tell me (he generally has some kind of answer like "I can't do everything", which bugs the hell out of me). So, I waited for him to calm down again and asked him what happened. He mumbled something about the slide and pointed to his mouth. I took a look and his front tooth was chipped. Once I saw this, he then started talking about his broken tooth. Apparently he fell on the slide (or fell off?) and hit his mouth.

It's not that bad and you can't really tell unless you look, so there was no reason to make an emergency appointment to the dentist, but it sure did motivate me to make that appointment for his check-up that I've been slacking on. We were really lucky that it wasn't worse, no blood or half his tooth missing or something like that.

I told Bill what had happened when he was on his way home. "Boys will be boys", he said. I guess so. And in that case, we need to decrease our insurance coverage deductible.

Excited about Easter

As Logan gets older and grasps the concepts about holidays, every celebration becomes more and more exciting in our home. Last year he began to understand what we do on Easter, but this year he was very excited about it. He had been talking about the Easter Bunny for days, sometimes calling him the 'Santa Easter Bunny' since at one point I compared the two. The cartoons that have been on (Dora, Max & Ruby, etc) have all had some special Easter episode and Logan has wanted to watch that one specifically.

On Saturday morning we went on an Easter Egg hunt with The Club. Logan was thrilled to go and couldn't wait to find eggs with his friends. We got there and it was cold and cloudy, but the kids still had a great time. There was an awesome turn out and all of the kids lined up by the soccer goal on the field at the park. The whole field was covered with brightly colored eggs, making it fun and easy for the little ones to participate. The kids were given the go-ahead and they all ran out to fill their baskets. It was so cute. Logan, for some reason, really took a liking to the color orange and only collected a few orange eggs. I thought that was pretty funny. Since it was cold, we chatted for only a little bit and the headed on out for breakfast.


For the rest of the day, all Logan talked about was eggs and Easter Bunnies. We even saw a cotton tail in our back yard and Logan thought it was the Easter Bunny. That night Bill went out with his friends and Logan and I cleaned up the house to get ready for the Easter Bunny to come and hide eggs. I told him that the toys needed to be picked up and he eagerly cleaned up the entire house, running around yelling "THE EASTER BUNNY IS COMING!". This was one of the very few times that he didn't put up a fight about cleaning. He even told me that "Easter Bunny doesn't come to messy houses". He learned quick!

Getting him to go to bed was a bit difficult since he tried to stay up to both wait for Bill to come home and for the Easter Bunny to make his appearance. He finally fell asleep at 10:00 and I was FINALLY able to fill the eggs, hide them around the house and get the baskets together. Carter got some tub toys for his first Easter and Logan hit the Jack Pot - stickers, a new garbage truck, a card game, CARS socks, dinosaurs, a snake and both boys got a matching shirt.

Easter morning Logan slept in a bit, but once he was up, was ready to get crackin' on the egg hunt. He checked out his basket, blown away by all of the stuff he got and I helped him find eggs around the house. Bill made a delicious french toast breakfast that stuffed us all silly. We relaxed for the rest of the rainy day watching movies and playing games. Before lunch and nap time, we painted our wooden Easter Eggs (our little tradition). Logan really enjoyed it more this year, mixing all of the paint colors and carefully painting his eggs. This year Bill even painted an egg. Impressed the hell out of me, that's for sure.


During nap time Bill and I started getting dinner ready - turkey, stuffing, potatoes - pretty much Thanksgiving in the spring. We even had pumpkin pie. It was great! We were also able to get some great family pictures with all of us, even Bill. That right there made my Easter.

So, we had a wonderful time this year with all sorts of family fun. Good times, no doubt!

Homework

Lately I've realized how easy it is to get lost in the day to day routine - make meals, pick up the house, run errands, go to the gym, do whatever kids' activity we're doing that day. A lot of the time we just "do" rather than enjoy.

While changing Carter's diaper this afternoon, I thought about when he last laughed. Had he laughed at all today? He smiled, that's for sure. But is that enough? We were half way through the day and even though we were just hanging out at home, we really hadn't had "fun". I kind of felt like a schmuck of a mom realizing this and decided that we needed to not only lighten up a bit, but we needed to have more fun.

So after getting him in a clean diaper and just about ready to go down for a nap, we spent a good few minutes with me tickling him and covering him in kisses. He laughed and giggled to hard he couldn't catch his breath. It was hysterical! With flushed pink cheeks, he was ready to take a nice, happy nap.

I came downstairs and cuddled on the couch with Logan, playing with the puppets he had us playing with last night. After a big hug, telling him how much I love him, he kisses me on the cheek "I love you too Mom". Thus commenced the cheek-kissing game of tag with lots of giggles.

My goal is to make sure my boys get a good laugh at least once a day. We need to.

Oh, the things that come out of his mouth

Over the last few days, Logan's defiant attitude has calmed down some (thank GOD!) and he has been a very sweet, funny, loving kid. I'm not sure if he's just outgrown the extreme brat stage that he was in or if he understands that I'm trying to control my freak out mode because of the stuff going on with the in-laws. At any rate, his cooperation has helped me to chill out a bit and the house is surprisingly calm.

Tuesday morning, I had a few (or more) of the mini-cookies left over from our Easter Egg painting craft we hosted the day before. Logan discovered that I ate the rest of them and sternly told me, "Don't eat lots and lots of cookies! Just eat one!" Well, then. I suppose he's heard that before and maybe I should follow his demands.

Later that afternoon I found out some details that I was NOT happy about (that could mean BIG problems) and a panic attack ensued. I haven't had a panic attack like this in some time. I tried breathing which kind of turned into hyperventilating and my hands were going numb. "Are you sad Mom?" he asked me. "Yes I am sweetie pea. It's OK though", I tried to tell him through my tears. He then ran upstairs, came back down with a used, balled up Kleenx to give to me. He gave me a hug and a pat on the back. "It's OK". I thanked him for being such a nice, sweet kid, assuring him that everything was OK and that we would be going to the gym later to play. He was good with that answer and ran off to play. I made a mental note that this is another reason why a cut-off is in our best interest.

Today he was playing with Carter on the couch, which is the highlight of everyones day. The two of them playing is the cutest! Logan handed Carter a corner of a blanket and was pretending to play tug-o-war. "Pull! Pull! Say 'pull' in Chinese", he told Carter. I just about fell off the couch laughing.

Carter has been lasting about 30 minutes before melting down while I've been working out and a few days he's been able to hang in there for longer. But this afternoon was awesome as I was able to get my whole workout done without interruption. I went to pick them up after I was finished to find Logan talking to Carter, making him smile and laugh and being a fantastic big brother. It was so cute!

Because our week together has been so good, we've been hitting up the stores while running errands to look for Disney CARS to add to Logan's collection. Sadly, Bill and I are just as obsessed with finding new cars as Logan is. But it's something fun we like to do together, especially as a special treat when he's been on his best behavior. It's so fun to see him get so excited about finding a new car (when we do - it's getting more difficult as his collection grows). And it's equally as cute to see how much he understands when we don't find a new one. He shrugs his shoulders and asks to go to another store. I have to remind him that we'll try again the next day and see what we can find. He's satisfied with that and there are no temper tantrums or fights.

His new favorite toys to play with are his dinosaurs and his favorite is "Dinosaurus Rex". His imaginative play is growing by leaps and bounds and the conversations he has with himself while playing are hysterical. I've yet to write down what he's said, but I will now because it's getting too good to forget!

I don't want to

I mentioned in a earlier post about things going on my life that I wanted to write about, one of them being about the in-laws. They've been in a time-out since October, I suppose officially since December. They've visited every month except for the last and we had not seen them. Bill will go out to lunch with his mom or whatever, and he went out to lunch with Aunt Ju-Ju around our birthdays, but the kids and I have gone on with our life as usual.

I was going to write about how those months have been the best months ever. With the exception of Valentines Day (which ironically involved the in-laws), I don't remember the last time we had major turmoil in our home. Bill and I have been working really hard on our "togetherness" and frankly, have been very successful. We always seem to be able to get back on the horse and keep going and the last few months have been awesome. Not having the drama from them has made those months the best months of our lives. It was an eye-opening realization for me and I was convinced (I AM convinced) that the time-out should move into a full cut-off. Our life is undeniably better without them.

And then Bill got a phone call.

Grandma L called Bill on Thursday telling him that they would be in town for Easter and to schedule a time for all of us to meet with our counselor. My stomach dropped and the anxiety started. Here we were, doing so well. Our conflict at home was minimal, we were having productive conversations about issues, I hadn't had anxiety for God knows how long and I had been medication-free to boot. Now it was all about to change just because Grandma L decided it was time to finally follow through on our request at compromise - a little too late.

We had talked about going to counseling with them for a very long time, always to be pushed off with answers like "sure, when we move out there". It was an empty promise as there was never a time line to work with and it will most likely be years before they really do move. When I called to confront Grandma L about the guilt-trip email she sent Bill and Aunt Ju-Ju (and asked Bill to lie to me about it), I went on about how we all need to work together, about how Bill and I have been working hard and taking the steps - going to counseling, trying to figure out boundaries and learn better ways to communicate (with everyone). I told her that she needed to do the work too, that it had to be a collaborative effort if our family was going to be together. I was shot down with her telling me that she wasn't going to do anything, then proceeded to make fun of me, hang up on me and then spread lies about how I verbally abused her.

The offer from me was pulled off the table. That was the final straw.

As someone who actually has lived through abuse and was told I was lying about it, Grandma L did something unforgivable to me. I cannot and will not, ever, forgive someone who lies about abuse. Not only that, but she throws my childhood traumas back at me to use as a scapegoat. Whenever anything is to blame, it's me because of the way I grew up. She then uses this sensitive and personal information that I trusted her with and gossips to everyone she knows about it. I have never in my life told Aunt Ju-Ju or Uncle J (or the friends that she blabbed to) what I had been through, but they retort the same comments, "My gut feeling is there are many unresolved issues in Kristin's past that she carries and transfers to your parents" (direct quote from the last email). This is the same comment made time and time again - that every thing is happening because I hate my mom, which at this point isn't even true. I have no feelings towards my mother. I have the same feelings for her as I do my kitchen chair.

It's also interesting that my personal pains are always up for speculation and public amature psychological analyzation, however, Aunt Ju-Ju has been traumatized in a way as well, yet it's never spoken of. Nobody dares to declare that she is the way she is because of what she went through.

After this, I told Bill that we are way beyond "sorry", that when Grandma L asks (if she ever does) what she can do to fix the issue I will have no answer. I don't have the faintest idea how anyone could fix that. An insincere apology (which is what it would be) isn't going to cut it. This is an irreparable relationship with our family. Not only is this something that I cannot forgive, but I never want my children to have a relationship with someone who resorts to those kinds of tactics. What's done is done, she's made her choices and it's time to walk away.

Bill had asked me to still go and I told him that I would while also making sure he knew I was going just to go, that I was going for him. There wasn't any hope for the situation. This agreement was a complete waste of time. He knew where I was coming from. I fully expect nothing to come from one session, where I don't want to cooperate at all because I'm not interested in having them in our lives. I fully expect Grandma L to just sit there and cry, deny all of her actions, not take responsibility for anything and essentially, do the same thing she's been doing for the last 3 years. If there was hope for a different outcome, she wouldn't have ignored the situation for the last six months when talking to Bill on the phone, pretending like nothing was going on. She would have taken a step and called us wanting to talk about how to move forward before making the appointment for counseling. She would have done something of meaning for her grandchildren rather than buying them useless crap for holidays that she missed.

Her asking Bill to schedule a session is just another fake request. I suppose we have 2 weeks to find out. If it even gets that far.

Broken and stranded

Yesterday afternoon I got the kids packed up in the car so we could go grocery shopping. I had volunteered to make dinner for of the moms in the club who had her second baby a week or so ago and I needed to pick up a few things to make our favorite chili (and other stuff).

I was driving down the road when the power steering went out. I thought I might have had a flat tire since it was more difficult to turn in one direction. The street I was on was pretty small and I was about to make a right hand turn onto a very busy road when the radio died. OH CRAP, I thought to myself as I hoped the car didn't die where I was - a terrible place to break down. I was lucky enough to make the turn and then turn safely right into a medical complex parking lot. Both boys were fast asleep, oblivious to our situation.

I called Bill at work (which was about 3 minutes away) and he came to our rescue. He drove us home with the boys finally waking up and confused at being loaded up in a different car, a friends car that Bill had borrowed. We stayed home for the rest of the day and I canceled dinner plans for the following night.

Today the car was towed and worked on. We are very lucky that it was a simple fix; a belt broke, the battery needed to be replaced as well as the battery cable. It cost a chunk of change, but it could have been a whole lot worse. Plus, the auto shop discounted the bill quite a bit. Bill found a great car repair bargain!

While being stranded without a car at all, I felt lucky to be living where we do. We live in a small town where you really don't have to have a car (sort of), but for us specifically, we have everything we need within walking distance - Target, restaurants, the gym and a brand new library among many other stores and many more that aren't even open yet. Our only car breaking down could have been a major fiasco in another city, but it was a very small annoyance here.

The car is back in action tonight and our little adventure was fortunately that. Little.

Get real

There's a lot going on in my brain right now and I feel like I have enough content to write for eons. It's just all about finding the time, which has been difficult to do with two kids. But, thoughts about the in-laws, religion, adverse vaccination reactions (not my kids, but a nephew had one that sent him to the ER last week), "anonymous" moms in The Club -really, there's quite a bit floating about in that cranium of mine. I suppose the most prevalent is business related - Virtual Fitness, my "maternity leave" and where to go from here.

I'm half way into my maternity leave. I made the decision that taking care of a crazy preschooler, a baby and exclusively nursing was all I could focus on and give it my "best" (which honestly, I'm never feeling my "best" at parenting). I know me and that multitasking is not one of my strong suits. I can't be the best mom that I can be and work as much as I want to at the same time (someone will inevitably shoot me for saying that). We are extremely lucky that we've been able to make our lifestyle happen, as simple as it is.

I've been training a few people here and there, but I have not been writing anything on the other blog nor have I been advertising my services. For me, I have to be able to live the lifestyle to give it 100% which means, when Carter is a year old and no longer nursing I can hit the gym like I want. I can tweak my nutrition plans, I can develop new, creative exercises and I can take my business in a new direction. It's time to start preparing to get real.

For my birthday, Bill bought me some books to help me get my nutrition plan published. That damn plan will be published. Oh, it will. My goal is to hit the ground running when Logan starts school in September and when Carter turns a year old at the same time. At that time, he'll be finished nursing and will be old enough for a few hours of daycare. I will have kid-free time to write. I intend to have the book ready to publish in less than a year. Lofty? Maybe. But it's a goal. I also have plans to ditch the other blog and evolve it into a website. One with a recipe section and a place to calculate calories, carbs, protein and fat, figure out your own BMR and track your progress. It's somewhat scary because I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO DO ANY OF THIS and will most likely have to hire someone to design it for me (any web gurus want to trade?)

So, 2010 will be the year I hope to see my book on the shelf at Barnes & Noble, the year I own a fitness website and God knows what else I'll come up with. Maybe even a cookbook (don't laugh Bill).

Another one under our belts

Since there is about a week between my birthday and Bill's, we celebrate our birthdays together on "Birthday Weekend" - the weekend between the two. We have done this since the beginning and this year was our 11th Birthday Weekend.

Throughout the years the Birthday Weekends have been anywhere on the edge of crazy to the complete opposite, being downright boring (those were the years that I was pregnant and dying). This year was a good one - not too crazy, but not boring, either. For weeks we've been trying to decide on what to do and honestly, it's at times like this that you realize kids cramp your style. There's not much you can do with kids in tow at the end of winter in a small town. After much thought, we decided to go out for a very nice dinner and then have a night cap at home.

I hoped that we would be able to find a friend to come over to watch the house while the kids slept, but everyone else had plans too. This is where I'm very thankful for the barter I'm doing with the owner of the drop-in childcare center. Although Carter isn't old enough to go yet (he has to be a year old), Logan loves it there and we can drop him off any time - for free. So, that we did. Bill made reservations for later that night after bedtime in hopes that Carter would just sleep in his car seat the whole night.

We ate at one of the most expensive restaurants in town. I was pretty excited because I've wanted to have dinner there for quite some time. We got dressed up, dropped Logan off and Carter was all snugly and falling asleep. We had a delicious dinner with Carter waking up before our dinners arrived. He was quiet and very good, just looking around and fighting going back to sleep. At least he didn't even make a peep. While the dinner was very good and expensive, it made me realize how small of a town we live in. Bill and I have been to some very nice restaurants since we've lived in some big cities, like Vegas. This place while nice, wasn't as nice as I thought it was going to be. People were wearing jeans. And so were the waiters. But, that's our town for you - small,relaxed college town.

Anyway, dinner was fantastic, Carter was on his best behavior and we came home, got the kids to bed and had a few glasses of wine while watching some of the funniest stand up ever. We laughed so hard we were crying and it was a great way to end the night.

This was one of those simple happy moments that remind me of how much I love Bill and our little family.

Infant nutrition planning

As a personal trainer and health and fitness fanatic, it's very important to me that I teach my children good eating habits from the get go. Portion control, healthy food choices, and balance are things that I think about when preparing meals. Over the years of making meals for Logan, I discovered why there are so many obese children today. Most parents don't have a clue what to feed their kids and the information is not easily found. Not to mention, most adults have no idea what to eat themselves, and here we are in this cycle of Fat America - a true case of the blind leading the blind.

When Carter began eating solids, I looked for my meal planning notes that I made for Logan. It turns out that I lost 2 months (6 and 7) and had to figure it all out again. It's not that difficult for me since I do this for a living, but it made me wonder what other parents who don't have any education in nutrition do. I think most people just put whatever food in front of their kids and really don't think much about it. I decided that I'm going to post my infant nutrition plans, not only to make it easier for me to reference to, but for those parents out there who would like to help their kids get a good start in healthy eating.

The most user-friendly reference on portion sizes that I've found was on Baby Center. I also use Wholesome Baby Food for meal ideas and age appropriate time tables of food introduction. I've found that the portion size recommendations have changed over the last couple of years, so these aren't the same plans that Logan had. There's more food than before, which is interesting. I also stopped portion sizes at 10 months when Logan started feeding himself because more food ended up on the floor than in his mouth.


6-7 Months
Breakfast: 2 TBS cereal, 2 TBS fruit
Lunch: 1 TBS cereal, 2 TBS fruit
Dinner: 4 TBS vegetable

7-8 Months
Breakfast: 3 TBS cereal, 3 TBS fruit
Lunch: 3 TBS cereal, 3 TBS fruit, 3 TBS vegetable
Snack: 2 TBS cereal, 2 TBS fruit
Dinner: 5 TBS vegetable

8-9 Months
Breakfast: 2 TBS cereal, 2 TBS fruit, 1 TBS protein, 1 TBS dairy
Lunch: 2 TBS cereal, 1 TBS fruit, 1 TBS vegetable, 1 TBS dairy
Snack: 1 TBS fruit, 1 TBS vegetable, 1 TBS dairy
Dinner: 2 TBS vegetable, 1 TBS protein, 1 TBS dairy

9-10 Months
Breakfast: 4 TBS cereal, 4 TBS fruit, 1 TBS protein, 1 TBS dairy
Lunch: 3 TBS cereal, 2 TBS fruit, 2 TBS vegetable, 1 TBS dairy
Snack: 1 TBS cereal, 2 TBS fruit, 2 TBS vegetable, 1 TBS dairy
Dinner: 4 TBS vegetable, 3 TBS protein, 2 TBS dairy

Boys will be boys?

As Logan gets older, I'm realizing more and more how exhausting it is to have boys. Young boys are challenging, often getting into trouble and keeping you on your toes. Well, at least that's how it is in our family.

The preschool boy is one of high energetic, impulsive, often violent behavior. We never play joust or swords here in our house, but somehow, somewhere, Logan picked it up and now wants to play this with his friends. There is running around and when the adrenaline is rushing, the testosterone takes over and pushing and wrestling ensue. It's shocking to realize how physical boys really are.

During playgroups or any play time with his friends, Logan has needed to sit on time-out to step back and chill after getting too excited and pushing his pals. I don't think it's to be malicious, it really is a "boy" thing, but it's still not cool. It is so different than what the girls are doing in our playgroup; sitting quietly reading books or coloring, playing nicely in the kitchen or dressing up a doll. Sometimes I think raising boys is like trying to tame a wild animal. There is something ingrained in their DNA that makes them this way and a parents job is to help them learn to be civilized. At times this seems impossible, but you still have to keep on them.

This was the situation yesterday while Logan was playing with some of his favorite buddies. They get along very well and run amok together, but I think Logan is becoming more and more physically aggressive than they are. He was running in circles with one of his pals and pushed him down. Logan went straight into time-out and then apologized, with them hugging and then running off to play again. I have no idea how to curb this other than what we're already doing (which I guess is working somewhat). However, I think Logan needs an outlet for his physical tendencies.

It's time to look into getting him started in sports.

29

Another year older and wiser too, I suppose. Saturday was my 29th birthday and you know you're getting old when the best present that day is an hour long nap.

The day was pretty chill with Bill leaving for a disc golf tournament early that morning and being gone all day (7am-8pm). The kids and I hung around the house for a bit and I talked to a few people who had called to wish me happy birthday. I dropped Logan off at the drop-in childcare center for the afternoon and went to pick up sushi to eat at the hospital with photographer friend. Afterward, I took a nap (total awesomeness), picked up Logan to do a little shopping (for nothing special) and that was about it! Nothing extraordinary, but nothing dramatic either.

I've been thinking about this a lot lately, and perhaps a birthday (or getting older) is the appropriate time for reflection. I've never been bothered by our imminent demise but since having kids, the thought of my passing (or anyone in my family) has really been poking at my consciousness in the far recesses of my brain.

It all started way back before Carter was born when Bill and I were watching Six Feet Under. It's a great series and despite death being a central part of the storyline, I really enjoyed watching it every night before going to bed. At times, it was a little unsettling to realize how sudden death can be and the grieving process a family goes through afterward. Then we watched the final episode. It was heavy and I pulled the covers up to my nose as I sank lower into our bed. It detailed the deaths of all of the main characters, so you ended up watching how a handful of people die in the course of an hour.

Since then, the thought of our mortality has stuck with me. Right now at this phase in my life, we are surrounded by birth and the starting of or the continued growing of families. Soon enough, that will change as the life cycle comes around. Granted, we're not in our 50's when all of this really starts to happen, but as witnessed in the series - you just never know. And that freaks me out.

Morbid, huh! I know 29 is young (even though kids make me feel 10 years older), but this really is the first year that my birthday brings some reality along to the celebration with the cake and ice cream. Birthdays aren't what they used to be (even though I'm always down for a party). And yes, I know all of this thinking is a bit premature, but whatever. I'm off to plan my funeral.

Sleepover!

Last night Logan had his very first sleepover at our house. He's slept over at photographer friends' house a few times - twice for preterm labor visits (but we came to pick him back up after being sent home) and then when Carter was actually born. This time we got to return the favor and Little M came to our house to sleepover while photographer friend went to the hospital to deliver there little baby (who's gender was still unknown).

I was out to dinner with another friend when I got the call, so I told her that I would be home ASAP, but Bill was there with the kids so she could come over now if she needed to. I drove home as fast as I could (not as I legally could) and ended up meeting them in the middle of our street as they were on the way out. I talked with them for a quick second and then pulled into the driveway.

When I walked in the door, Logan was thrilled to be hosting a sleepover. I've never seen him so excited in all my life. You would have thought the sleepover was better than birthdays and Christmas combined. The two watched a little bit of Logan's dinosaur movie (Land Before Time) but soon they were running around the house, laughing and screaming, playing and being outright wild. After many attempts to calm them down, I realized my efforts were futile and let them wear themselves out. They ended up passing out - Logan in his bed, Little M on the guest mattress in Logan's room - at the late hour of 11:00pm. This was a sleepover indeed!

While the kids went crazy and then passed out cold, photographer friend had been updating her status on Facebook, giving a somewhat play-by-play of the labor and delivery experience. This was both exciting and hilarious at the same time. First, what a great way to be in the labor room, but not, still giving them the privacy they needed (and what a great concept for intruding in-laws who want to be right there in the action). Talk about modern technological advances! Labor was taking quite some time, so everyone drifted off to sleep in the middle of the night waiting for the good news.

In the wee hours of the morning (about 6:00 - 6:30), I received a text that the baby was going to be born soon. The kids were still sleeping and I thought they would be for quite some time. I thought wrong. Shortly after getting the text that they had another baby girl, Logan came wandering into our room to start his day. We were able to convince him to cuddle in bed and watch TV for a bit while I slept a little more, but then Carter woke up. So, scratch that idea! Little M slept for a couple more hours, waking up 15-20 minutes before her Dad came to pick her up to meet her new little sister.

So, we had a very eventful night, loaded with tons of fun. We paid for it today though. Logan slept for most of the day recovering from his preschool sleepover and we stayed in our pajamas. It was worth it though. You never say no to that kind of fun!

Carter's 6th month check-up

This morning Carter went in for his 6th month check-up. I had been waiting for this appointment for a week considering all of the food allergy issues that were going on. We had a lot to talk about and I was anxious to get everything straightened out.

He was weighed and measured by the nurse. He measured 25 3/4 inches long (20%), weighed 13 pounds, 11 ounces (less than 3%) and his head was 16 1/2 inches (8%). When the Doctor came in, we talked about his growth and she wasn't concerned in the least. She said that he was measuring similar to what Logan did at this age (although his stats in their office start at 9 months). She said that he was beginning to slow down, but that was to be expected at this age. He looks very healthy and has some sort of chub on his arms and legs and he even has wrist lines. She shrugged her shoulders and said that breast fed babies aren't well represented on the growth charts. This was a relief since my initial reaction after the nurse took his measurements was a drop in my stomach, worried that he wasn't eating enough again.

We went over his food reactions and have a slower plan to go with. Rather than using the every three day rule before introducing a new food, we're going every week to two weeks. He's back on rice cereal and then we'll start with yellow and orange vegetables first. I'm adding banana to the list of possible food allergies and when he's a year old, we will discuss going in for allergy testing. But, at this point any testing is going to be inconclusive and a waste of effort and money.

After that, she went over his developmental milestones saying that he passed with flying colors. I was a bit concerned about his gross motor skills since he's not really moving too terribly much, but I suppose this is in comparison to Logan, who apparently was very physically advanced. The boy was crawling at 6 months and Carter isn't even rolling yet (a few times, but not across the room like Logan did). However, Carter is quite strong so there's nothing to worry about. He's just content to lay there and kick around.

The last topic of discussion was vaccinations. Prior to dealing with his Raynaud's, weight issues and food allergies, I was somewhat open to starting a single dose, selective plan. How quickly that all changed after witnessing Carter's body not functioning quite like it should. Those were major red flags for me and enough to not start any vaccinations at all. If his body is hyper-reactive to being cold and eating food, what's not to say he'll have a more severe reaction to chemicals? Add the family history in the mix and that's where I draw the line. I have to trust my gut, because I didn't with Logan (more than once) and he suffered from that.

So, she and I talked at length about it. She gave me the medical reasoning, but never pushed me into a decision. I thought long and hard about it, my eyes welling up with tears because of all of the parenting decisions I have to make, this is by far the most difficult. I think she understands that, thus why she doesn't push me. When talking about what vaccination she recommends the most, Hib is her number one priority. Logan had a mild reaction to this vaccination. So, my stomach turned even more and tears rolled down my cheeks. This issue is so heavy for me because I feel like I can't protect my kids either way. I'm damned if I do, I'm damned if I don't. I feel like a schmuck with whatever decision I make - if they contract a vaccine preventable disease or have yet another adverse reaction. For me, it's a no win situation.

It's even more difficult when you are having the discussion about the fatality of a disease in relation to your children. When the Doctor says, "this is an important vaccination because if he contracts Hib, every Doctor, no matter how good they are, doesn't think the child will make it or will have severe permanent injuries if they do survive". Then in the same conversation, "there's nothing we can do if he has an adverse reaction. The only thing we can give him is Benadryl for hives and rashes, Motrin for fevers and swelling and heavy steroids if it gets out of control. Once an adverse reaction starts, there's no stopping it. And I'm not going to say that there are not vaccine injuries out there, because there are".

It kills me. It is a gut wrenching predicament and I cry every single time I'm faced with making a decision.

The appointment ended with her telling me not to make a decision right then, to go home and think about it. This is why I really like her. She does fulfill her medical professionals obligation by informing me of all of the possibilities and consequences, but she knows how I feel and sympathizes. Unlike many other non-vaccinating parents out there, I don't think I'll ever have to worry about being kicked out of the practice for going against the CDC guidelines. Unless something else happens (God forbid) we won't have to go back for a while.

The last ever!

Tonight was the last night I will ever have to workout at 8:00pm. I. AM. THRILLED. Let me tell you, working out that late sucks. But, you have to do what you have to do. Now that Carter is 6 months old, he meets the age requirement for the gym daycare. I got everything set up so we can go every day in the afternoon if I want (and I do!). It will be good to get the break in the middle of the day and still have enough time to come home and make dinner. Then after dinner, I don't have to rush out of the house, I can actually just kick back and digest! I can have a beer or a glass of wine with dinner (because working out after having only one glass just isn't good - totally crappy workout).

I hope to try it out tomorrow and see how it goes. I'm keeping my fingers crossed. I've been looking forward to this milestone for a very long time!

5 months old

Oh, Carter.

What on Earth am I going to do with you? Your 5th month started off a little rocky, thus why I am a whole 4 weeks behind, almost missing this month all together. Better late than never, right? I promise that I'll make it up to you in your 6th month update. I swear!
So, it all started when your hands and feet looked like little plumbs that felt like ice cubes. After nursing you in the middle of the night, I would bring you into bed with me to cuddle and snuggle for a few hours before we had to wake up and start our day. Your feet were painfully cold! I thought putting on some thicker socks was the answer. It wasn't. It turns out you have Raynaud's Disease. Fortunately, you are just fine and since keeping your room at a 70 degrees at all times, you are not quite so discolored.

Right after that scare, we had another! During one of your appointments to check out your feet we discovered that you weren't gaining weight at all for a couple of weeks. We are so fortunate to have caught that early, otherwise you would have been one upset and sick little baby. After nursing ever hour, on the hour, for an entire week, you gained the weight you needed and everything was back on track.
Since you like to just hang out and be carried around rather than use your little legs, we got you an exersaucer that you just love. You stand in there and play with your toys, watching me cook dinner or staring at Kitty and Buddha. We thought that you might like the jumperoo too, and you do! You spend some time in there jumping away, always making Logan laugh himself into hysterics. I am so proud of you and your sitting skills, sitting all by yourself and playing with toys or Logan. But, what's funny to me is that you like to use these toys, but when it comes to playing on the floor, you'd still rather just hang out and not roll around. I've caught you twice or so rolling over in bed, only because you scream when you're on your stomach. You're not in too much of a hurry to learn how your body moves.
You are definitely my little buddy, although you are becoming more accepting of other people. You have been content to hang out with some of the moms in The Club and have been OK hanging out with Daddy too. This makes me so happy knowing that you feel secure in the world around you. You are also beginning to make friends with the other little brothers and sisters in our playgroup. It's almost illegal how cute you are when you look and smile at your little friends while laying on a blanket or playing with toys. Soon enough, it will be time to start going to your own playgroup rather than tagging along to Logan's!
Speaking of Logan, you love that guy so much, sometimes I think more than me! There are times that I can't make you smile like he does. And believe me, Logan just eats it up. I'm sure he really enjoys having a pal to laugh at his jokes and stories. You two are the best brothers and certainly, best friends.

Well, Baby Bean, that about sums up the last month. Now that it's getting nice outside and you are entering your 6th month (which is always full of new experiences), we are going to have all sorts of fun. I can't wait to watch you enjoy the world around you.

Loves!
Mommy

We've been here before

Carter's voyage into solids has been put on hold and as of Sunday, he's been back to exclusively breast feeding again. He had a reaction to some food. A big one. And thus begins our battle with food allergies. Again.

On Friday I noticed that after eating banana, Carter had a raised diaper rash. That's a clear sign that it's not sitting well with him. I decided that we were going to stop and move on to the next food a few days later. On Saturday while I was at the writing group meeting, Bill tried to feed Carter a bottle (I got some lactose-free formula just in case I was going to be gone longer than expected). Carter wasn't digging the formula and wouldn't eat from the bottle at all. It wasn't that big of a deal because I was home 20 minutes later. Bill put the formula in the fridge so it didn't go to waste.

Later that night I decided to use the milk to mix his cereal. He wouldn't eat it at all. After only a few bites, he had a massive diaper explosion (I decided to throw out the outfit rather than wash it, it was that bad) and soon after that, he began to break out in hives on his lip, back and feet and his elbows broke out in a red patchy rash (eczema). I gave him a bath to get cleaned up and kept him in his diaper while I waited for his hives to come down before tucking him into bed. He was OK after an hour and woke up fine the next morning.

So, here we go again. It figures too. I give Carter 3 different foods and he's allergic to 2 out of the 3. I have no idea what I'm going to do about feeding him solids right now; if we should go in for allergy testing first or what. He has his sixth month check-up on Thursday, so I'll consult with our Doctor and go from there.

The write stuff

A week or so ago I came across some information about a group of writing moms here in town. Their motto is to "meet, write, get published and make money". Well, sign me up for that! I've been thinking about the nutrition book that I started years ago, lost and never started again and this was a great opportunity to be "forced" to sit down and get it going again. Not only that, it was an opportunity to branch out and make friends outside of The Club - not that I don't like them, but it's always good to have friends in different places.

There was a writing assignment on a motherhood/parenting related topic and the members would read their pieces over coffee sans kids. Even though I write on here regularly about my experiences as a mom, it was a new challenge to sit down and focus on prompted writing. I was distracted by everything and anything; facebook, emails and other random places on the web. Hmm, no wonder why the book isn't anywhere close to being started, let alone finished. I have absolutely no self-discipline and I swear I have ADD to boot. Regardless, I was able to write like I normally do but in a different way and was excited to meet other like-minded women.

With the printed essay tucked away in my little purse, I drove to the coffee shop fighting the St. Patrick's Day parade traffic (and parking) the whole way there. After introducing myself and grabbing a latte, the small group (myself and two other women) got to know each other, discussed marketing and promotion for the group, how to reach our goal of getting published and then listened to each of our essays. I had a fabulous time and knew right away that I would be attending these meetings regularly.

Even if I never get published and don't make a dime, it's still totally worth it. Just the time to spend on writing, discussing our writing with each other and making new friends is payment enough.

Putting in overtime

At the beginning of the week, Bill left for the East coast for business leaving me with the boys for three days. This was actually his first business trip since starting with the company a little over a year ago (I think?). We've known for a while now that business trips are in his future, but luckily, not that often. About once a quarter or so and as of now, they will all be in the States. For a while there, there was discussion about him going to Europe which both made me green with envy and freaked out at the same time.

Anyway, I was gearing myself up for some hard work being a single parent for a few days. I really thought it would be difficult. But you know what? It wasn't. It was actually pretty easy! Monday started off the week on a perfect note; Logan being very cooperative, following direction and being on his best behavior while we went grocery shopping. I got to make a delicious shrimp dinner that Bill would have hated (he is totally grossed out by seafood). As a stay at home mom, the only extra step I had to take was getting both kids bathed and in bed. Not that difficult. Really, with Bill being gone, all I had was an extra two to three hours of work each day. It was like I was putting in overtime.

Tuesday was pretty average, not too bad behavior-wise and again, I made another great dinner that Bill wouldn't eat (orange rosemary chicken. YUM!). The kids had a great time taking their bath together again and another easy day was under my belt. Bill came home Wednesday and we went out for lunch after picking him up. That's when Logan started acting up. Talk about great timing.

So, the next time Bill goes on a business trip (possibly in April), I'm not going to be worried about being on my own with the kids at all. It's not that much more work for me and I get to eat whatever I want to make. The big downside is going to bed alone. I hate that. A lot. So, I'll always look forward to him coming home and not sleeping by myself.

The Land of Gross

This time of year is absolutely horrible for our town right now; the germs are making their way around offices, playgroups and homes. People have been out sick for weeks and not from just one virus or infection, but many. One after the other. It's nasty!

A few weeks ago we had a head cold make the rounds in our home. I got over it just before photographer friend's baby shower (thank God). Things were pretty good for a little bit, but then Logan started coughing something fierce. We thought it was allergies because he was breaking out with eczema in places that he had never been itchy before. It made sense too with all of the warmer spring-like weather, the trees starting to bud and all of that business. But, his cough lasted for a while and what do you know. Now I have it. I think I have an upper respiratory infection because it burns to breath (but not that bad that I feel like I need to see a Doctor). I hope this is just another bad cold or something like that.

All of our friends have been sick with something or another. The flu, colds, rotavirus, RSV and the adenoid virus (I've never even heard of this one before until now). We've been lucky in our house that nothing serious has hit us and most of all, Carter has been pretty healthy (just a little runny nose, but nothing bad). All of these infections are really making me think though, because Carter is 6 months old today and ready to go to the gym daycare. Germ central.

After Carter's Raynaud's disease visit, I was pretty adamant that he wouldn't be getting vaccinated since he has an autoimmune disorder and that (in addition to our vaccine history) increases the chances that he'll have an adverse reaction to something. On the other hand, I know that if Carter goes to gym daycare for a few hours while I workout, he's bound to get something. A while back they evacuated and closed down the daycare because one of the kids showed up with a staph infection (a really common infection in gyms anyway). I'm really starting to get a bit worried because of the infections that have already been spreading. This is one REALLY bad year. And to top it off, I saw a news story about how the flu in our state is particularly bad (4 kids have died making it the worst season in 5 years).

It's hard to separate the propaganda from the reality and make informed decisions right now. Add the fact that we have a germy preschooler who plays in the dirt, picks his nose and other activities that make his hands disgusting (and we wash hands often). He also LOVES to hold Carter's hands and get him his face, despite me telling him not to. I think he hears differently and does it more rather than less.

I have a bit of thinking to do over here...

Nothing like Samson

As a second time mother, I clearly remember some of the pitfalls that occur during the first few months of motherhood; the lack of sleep, the dramatic change in lifestyle, the loss of your sense of self. First time moms are caught by surprise, but after that, you know what to expect when it comes to your identity. Or so you think.

After Logan was born, I was quickly sucked into Mommyhood. I was Logan's mother first and foremost, everything else took a backseat; my marriage, my self. I was busy in the routine of breast feeding, diaper changing, cleaning up spit up and not showering, not working out, not taking care of myself and not paying much attention to anything else. The first sign that I was loosing Me was when I flipped out over Bill making a trip to Home Depot after work to pick up some screws. After being housebound with nothing to do, that trip without me was as if he went out for a steak dinner and I was left home with Spaghettio's. The next sign was when we moved to our small town and Bill had plans to go to a concert with Uncle J. I was LIVID that here I was - at home taking care of the house and our baby while he was working and then he had the freedom to run off to party at night. In that very heated argument that night, Bill said the words that needed to be said. "You need friends".

So true.

That night I joined MOMS Club and it forever changed my life. I got ready for activities on almost a daily basis (showered and put on make up!), made friendships that will last a lifetime and with workout partners, I found my gym mojo again. I found Kristin once again and tried my best to keep my inner fire going by writing, cooking and many other interests.

One thing I began to notice was that the pendulum was swinging in the opposite direction this time around. I was determined not to let myself go, to get lost in motherhood. I made it a point to be dressed and presentable most nights when Bill came home from work. You'd think the only thing missing was my heels and pearls. I started working out as soon as I could so I could get back into decent shape. I started cooking the family dinners again and decorating the house. I did not want to be a frumpy house wife with two kids, even from the get go. But, it started to happened again. All it took to realize this was a hair cut.

A few weeks back, Bill purchased a package deal from a salon in town so I could get my hair done. Without his effort, I would have continued on my ragamuffin ways until God knows when. All I know is that I wouldn't have made the time for myself, let alone the financial commitment. I had my appointment on Saturday morning, leaving Carter with Bill (awake!) for the first time since he's been born.

Fortunately, I wasn't that far gone. But after this past weekend, I see that I was beginning to slip. It was a chore to get out of the door to workout and it had been that way for quite some time. Bill took on the hard ass trainer attitude and literally guilted me out of the door on an almost daily basis. I was still going out with friends, I still got myself ready for activities. I still made major efforts in our marriage. However, I think if I was left to my own devices, we would have had many more pajama days than we did.

After the stylist handed me the mirror, I could not wipe the goofy grin off my face if I tried. I was thrilled. Not because I liked the cut (even though I love it), but because I realized that after 24/7 pony tails for months on end, I was starting to lose sight of Me. I was once again lost in focusing on everyone else - being the "wife", the "mom", the "personal trainer", but not taking much time for "me". Seeing the pile of hair on the floor was shocking. I had been neglecting myself for much longer than I thought.

I walked out of the salon with a swagger and that goofy grin from ear to ear, excited that I get to go back at least three more times for more "me time".

The first of many meals

Carter is a few days shy of turning 6 months old (yeah, his 5th month update is coming up soon). He's also sitting up all by himself for longer periods of time and has been smacking his lips while we are eating dinner. You know what that means. Time to start solids!

Yesterday I got him some rice cereal and he had his first dinner. He loved it! Bill got some video and I got some pictures afterward...

Photo and video editing at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Two peas in a pod

Carter is getting old enough that he is beginning to play and interact with Logan and it is OH. SO. CUTE. Logan will do silly things to make him laugh and they smile and giggle together. Logan is thrilled that Carter plays with him and will often exclaim "Carter loves me!" throughout the day.

With growing older comes new toys that the two of them can play with together. A few days ago we brought out the Jumperoo for Carter to bounce around in. Logan thought it was hysterical, which made Carter smile and jump around even more to make Logan laugh. The infectious laughter was adorable. I grabbed the camera just in time to catch the tail end of this family moment. I was fortunate enough to film a few giggles, grins and jumps...

Make photo slide shows at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Technical diffculties

I'm a little neurotic about posting every day and I've been pretty freakin' busy this week - thus the lack of action on here. I have some super cute video of Logan and Carter playing together, I'm WAY behind on Carter's 5th month update and really, there's just an insane amount of stuff going on. Bill built our desktop the other day and I couldn't upload the videos or pictures. Hopefully we'll figure that out tonight.

Sit tight until tomorrow when I KNOW I'll have a whole night of nothing while the kids are in bed and Bill is out for Dude's Night Out.

The weekend that kicked my butt

First, I got a cold. Then, we looked for furniture - which was going to be delivered BUT only after the baby shower. Next was an errand list a mile long. Add massive tantrums from Logan who had to sit on time-out in front of Wal-Mart not once, but twice and this was just "one of those weekends". Nobody was in a pleasant mood and "I can't wait for Monday" was actually said. Who looks forward to Mondays? Apparently, Bill.

While the cold was a pain in the butt, it wasn't that big of a deal. I realized that after you live with HG for 9 months twice, a cold is a walk in the park. Stock up on Vicks and Kleenex because for one, there are no sick days for moms and secondly, life goes on. You should have seen the difference between my cold and Bill's Man Cold from the week before. It was amusing (when I was healthy).

Furniture shopping was what put us all in foul moods. We have a budget to work with and trying to find something that was kid-proof (microfiber) and that would fit in the front room appropriately was next to impossible. We did find a set and it would be delivered on Monday, just after the baby shower. When I needed it most. How convenient. We opted to wait on the purchase to see if we could find anything else. We did, but not a complete set. We found a chaise lounge that is going to be returned because I never considered the height of the piece when in contrast to our vaulted ceiling. It looks a little ridiculous being so low. But oh well. We had it for the shower.

Then the highlight of our weekend, Logan's MASSIVE TANTRUM. He was, has been (and is being) a holy terror lately, talking back and being an outright snot. While shopping, I had to carry his 30 pound shrieking body out of the store to sit him on time-out with everyone either staring, waiting for me to pummel him or averting their eyes, embarrassed for me. While sitting out in the front of the store, people walked by and a few made comments. One guy (kid, really) who was in his early 20's with his girlfriend loudly exclaimed "There are better days ahead man!", to which I quickly retorted, "Yeah. When he's 18". Not too long after that, an older woman in her 50's complimented me on how I was handling the situation. "So many times I've seen parents either spank their kids in the store, which does nothing, or they don't do anything about the tantrum. You're keeping your cool and handling it nicely". I thanked her and assured her I wanted to murder him even though I didn't look like a serial killer. She chuckled and then Logan's time-out was over.

We went back into the store (after a shorter second time-out) and joined Bill and Carter in the checkout lane. One of the employees had been oogling over Carter and we got to talking about Logan's time-out. She actually thanked me for taking him out of the store and correcting his behavior because so many other parents do not and just let their kids freak out while shopping. I was a little stunned and had few words. I couldn't imagine enduring that torture, but I do see it happening frequently. I just try to ignore it while it's going on (because I know how mortifying it is).

So, the weekend finally ended and we were all ready for photographer friend's baby shower on Monday morning. Now THAT was fun! We made milkshakes, hung out and talked while the kids played downstairs in the playroom pretending to be dinosaurs. It was cute. I organized a group gift where we all chipped in to pay for a house cleaner to come over to her house while she was recovering after the birth. We collected enough for a little over 6 1/2 hours (which would be about 2 cleanings). She was thrilled.

It has taken me a full day to recover from everything. I feel like I need a vacation.