On Alex, Forks and Cats... and other things

Today is one of those days where you make coffee in the morning (as usual) and then by mid-afternoon you make another pot (not as usual) in order to survive.

And no, I'm not dealing with the pandemic flu scare either -- I am educated and well informed as you can be too. Nor am I under stress or overwhelmed with circumstances out of my control.

Rather, I am merely surviving. Swine flu has nothing on me today, seriously.

It all started this morning when this little 2 1/2 foot-tall guy was tenderly carried upstairs in his daddy's arms. The darling little stinker had WMD (Worst Morning Doo-doo) and since that can tend to wreck havoc on the surrounding air circulating our home, I knew it would be the traditional WMD if I didn't do something about it fast.

It was either change the diaper or light a bonfire of scented candles to cover the awful small. I knew the candle part wouldn't be ideal since we do have small children in the house so I opted for plan A: change the diaper.

That's when it all started.

He refused to be cleansed from his iniquity putrid, dirty diaper. Knowing my child would love to spend the day with doo-doo smeared all over his as-soft-as-a-baby's-butt butt, I denied him the privilege, crossed his boundaries and cleansed the tender skin of the harsh toxins that naturally make up WMD. I was also thinking of the house, which I know is selfish of me.

After that, everything just went down hill from there.

He mutilated his much-starved-after banana, smearing entrails of banana on his tray. Yes, "banans" (as Alex affectionately calls them) have entrails. I'll take a picture next time if you don't believe me.

Then I gave him a strawberry. A delicious, juicy, RED-all-the-way-through, strawberry. He took a few chomps, chucked a bite under the dining table (which was across the room from where he safely sits in his high chair) and then slung the rest across the top of the table, smearing the whole way until it landed in front of his sister. It left an impressive trail of nice, juicy, red juice.

(That boy has quite the throw. And aim.)

Entwined through-out the banana and strawberry feast were loud, robust, healthy, deafening shouts of "MOM!" If you want to know what it sounds like, tell the person sitting closest to you to shout "mom" as loud as they can. Then ask them to repeat that for at least 20 minutes. And then hope your phone rings so you can try to carry on an important conversation with an important person. But make sure that the person sitting closest to you continues to yell "mom."

Around that same time in the morning, the originally planned appointment for later in the day to have our gas line repaired (since our house was beginning to smell like a propane plant, thanks to some leaky pipes), was suddenly moved to 5 minutes from right then. A path needed to be cleared through the toys artfully arranged left laying on the family room floor.

By this time, Alex was standing on his high chair tray, still yelling, shouting and hollering "mom."

Now, Grandpas are a great thing, they really are. And when it comes to having 2 1/2 foot-tall people like Alex around, Grandpas are a REALLY great thing. Amazingly enough, we actually had such a Grandpa on hand to rescue Alex from his high chair and set him free to have the run of the house. Alex was happy and so was the Grandpa. They had a brief time of enjoying the morning together and admiring each other but then as soon as Grandpa stepped away from his desk, Alex returned the favor Grandpa had previously shown him and proceeded to climb up to the desk and tear apart random pieces of important things. Grandpa was amazed with Alex's speed and swift thinking in handling the opportunity to sabotage Grandpa's important desk.

(Grandpas are too forgiving and very biased.)

After that, Alex climbed up to the silverware basket and with a look of glee and contempt on his innocent determined little face, he selected a sturdy fork and trailed the cat down. I'll leave you to your imagination as to what happened next because I'm sure you understand that a 2 1/2 foot-tall person, a fork and a cat are not a good combination. Especially when it's all located behind the couch.

As I continued to tackle my day... cleaning the bathroom, making lunch, saving the cat, answering phones and cleaning the kitchen... Alex kept his schedule going as well. He made a trek to the basement and checked out Toby's computer, offering a few insights on the important business document Toby had open in Word. Or maybe that was Quick Books? Whatever it was, Alex had it done in less than 7 seconds so obviously the program isn't very child proof.

Alex was greatly interested in the kind gas people that were here to repair our old gas lines and showed his appreciation by climbing their ladder and checking out their tools.

Then he came upstairs, sat sweetly smugly next to the very-bloated-with-pregnancy-cat and held onto her tail in a very affectionate manner. It was a very strong bond. As in a I-will-love-you-forever-and-never-let-you-go kind of way.

Soon after that he became ravenously hungry for cheese and demanded a piece of the moldy cheese I was carving off of a cheese block. So I put him in his high chair, selected a pinch of healthy cheese and allowed him a good protein snack. Of course, that was all after he said "please" for the cheese.

That arrangement went well until Alex's dear and favorite sister innocently snitched a single string of the pile of cheese on his tray. He voice broke out like a rash on a poison ivy victim.

Over lunch time, Alex refused to eat his cheesy mashed potatoes. I coaxed him. I forced him. I urged him. He refused the bites of food or would take take them into his mouth, mix a nice blend of saliva with the spuds and then smear the entire biteful out on his hand. Like lotion. He also soaked himself with the leak-proof sippy cup of water proving that even sippy cups now days aren't child proof.

When his dad came home (after I had labored fruitlessly on training him to eat his food), Toby simply looked at him and said, "Alex, you take a bite." Those were 5 magic words that Alex understood to mean, "I must shovel my food in now or I may forever lose all of my third-born privileges in this family."

Disheartened by my lack of ability to train this child to eat a small pile of mashed potatoes, the Grandpa assured me not to worry; he said it's the male image that a father has which imparts godly fear on a young child. Bummer for me since I don't tend to have a very male image.

As the afternoon rounded to a close and nap time began to appear more obvious in the horizon of this beautiful day, Alex disappeared. Enjoying the lack of stress excitement for a few brief minutes, I tried not to be too anxious as I looked for him. He had been under Grandpa's bed earlier affectionately chasing the cat the down so I wasn't too worried. I comforted myself with the illusion that he was still there and hoping that cat was smart enough not to be there.

Just then Alex came screeching across the house at top speed with wet hands. He's such a smart little inventor and his energetic spirit towards life is so inspiring. Unfortunately, I noted immediately that he was heading directly from the bathroom.

Upon investigation, the bathroom I had just scrubbed down earlier was in need of more cleaning. A yellow-tinted color of liquid blended with the water in the toilet bowl and around the perimeter of the toilet there were flecks of generous sprinkles of liquid. It all had a familiar faint tinge of a certain smell too.

Nice. What an adventurous child I have.

So, I disinfected his hands first and held him at the sink trying to control the water pressure as he lunged for each faucet handle and showered himself and the vicinity with a powerful spray of water that neither he nor I nor the vicinity expected.

After that, my mind went blank. Overall, I have vague memories of swimming against white water rapids underwater finding him at the top of the bunk bed ladder 2 seconds after I turned my back (something he's NEVER climbed before) and I have another memory of him escaping out the front door, across the porch and down the steps all within the perimeter of about 9.5 seconds.

He continually peppered his daily activities with affectionate cat care, close examination of important documents on Grandpa's desk and snatching food items out of the fridge in a blink of an eye.

Fearing for his life and concerned with the wild adventurous nature Alex had suddenly possessed, I denied him anymore opportunities to try his hand at more inventions.

With a bright smile on his face and soft, cuddly "ganky" under his chin, he drifted off to slumber land while I groped feebly to the faint smell of coffee wafting through the air in my mind's nose.

So now you understand why I'd make coffee in the middle of the day and enjoy it to the fullest with rich, creamy caramel syrup, cool whip, a shot of caramel flavoring and real fresh whipping cream. And you'd also understand why I didn't feel guilty while drinking it: Alex gives me every reason to enjoy life to the fullest.

Just look at his example.

The Overpriced Sunflower Seed

After several false attempts at starting this blog, I have decided to just jump right in. I'm not sure why it's so hard for me to talk right now since I usually am capable of talking whether I have anything to talk about or not whether I want to or not. Sometimes I think I just try to act like I'm bashful. Sometimes I can hope I am becoming a more shy person. I guess admitting that proves I really am not shy and probably never will be.

So, here I am.

I am not sure what to blog about. I could blog about our cat and how she screamed and cried and tried to bite us when she had the first 2 of her 4 kittens today. That's pretty much all the information I have on the cat though so that would be the end of this blog if I decided to blog about the cat.

I could blog about the weather but that isn't very interesting... it's only in the 40's. I could blog about my kids but other than eating, drinking and occasionally not getting along being little angels, we don't have much new to report on the home front.

Unless I go back to last year.

And by last year, I mean just last week, December 29, 2008.

Yeah, I think I'll blog about that fateful day.

It was a fair evening and after a week of subzero temps, a fair evening was a special event. The weather was mild, probably in the twenties (balmy, let me tell you) and the day's events were just wrapping up to a nice end with warm biscuits and hot soup for supper. We were on our Christmas Vacation trip and staying with my parents. And when you're on "vacation" everything is supposed to be fun and nothing is supposed to go wrong. Or, we supposedly think anyway.

I had been gone all day and upon arriving "home," I naturally assumed that my baby would be glad to see me. And he was. I could tell. Even though he was irritated and fussy. He kept poking at his face and crying and not acting very comfortable. But he was still happy to see me, I'm just sure of it.

He had that I-just-put-something-in-my-nose look and knowing his habit and addiction of doing so, I instinctively looked up his nose. Sure enough. An unknown foreign object lodge where it wasn't supposed to be.

Okay, just so you know, Alex puts stuff in his nose like most people put stuff in their mailbox. Sometimes every day, sometimes he might skip a day and sometimes a lot of stuff goes in on one day. It just all depends.

We have a system down where we tell him to blow, he blows, everyone cheers, and odd colored objects slime out one of his little nostrils. It's that simple.

If he won't blow, then we bribe him by giving him a whole Kleenex to hold under his nose himself and then we all take our own Kleenex and everyone gets to blow at once. It's great family fun. The problem with involving the Kleenex is that as soon as you look away, Alex will immediately shred his own personal Kleenex and eat it like cotton candy. The problem with that is then the object in the nose can be quickly forgotten while everyone tries to get the remaining Kleenex away from Alex as he viciously chews the pieces in his mouth. I know, he's an odd child.

The following list is a compilation of items based on memory of what has been inserted in his nose or insertion was at least attempted:

Vitamins
French Fries
Cereal
A Tiny Bell (those are easy to detect: you just shake the child.)
Crackers
Sunflower Seed Shells
Crumbs
Noodles
Anything Found On Highchair Tray
Anything Small Enough To Fit In Nostril
etc.
Misc.

So, upon realizing we had another Object in Nose Epidemic on our hands, we did the usual system. Alex blew hard, nothing escaped, Alex got a Kleenex, nothing escaped, everyone got a Kleenex, Alex blew hard, nothing escaped, etc. Finally, Toby got a bright flash light and tweezers and went on an intensive recovery mission.

The only thing we concluded was that it was an item of the Sunflower Seed family and it was firmly lodged in his nose.

We waited a bit to see if it would work down. It didn't. So we went to the Emergency Room. Yeah, the ER.

It was funny how we got lost on our way there because Alex's mom thought she knew a short cut. That's embarrassing because she grew up in that area.

Even funnier was that Alex sang the whole way. And he had never really sang before and definitely not in the car. Alex usually cries in the car so to sing was really out of character for him. We made sure he was really our kid before we were admitted to the ER. To have to pay an ER bill for a kid that's not our own would not be something we'd necessarily feel compelled to do. But of course, he was indeed our son.

Alex got quite the treatment. He was weighed. Had his pulse checked. Flirted with the nurses. Listened to mommy answer a million-and-one questions. And then Alex waited. And so did his parents.

What is it with ER's requiring making people wait so long? It's as if people get there, could be half dying and then they just sit in a tiny room and wait. And wait. And wait. It's almost as if the waiting part is the processional to the doctor's exam and treatment. His treatment just might not work if you don't spend a good period of time waiting before hand. Maybe they want to make sure you are good and sick/dying before they attempt a treatment.

And their timing is always off. The nurse said to wait a minute. We waited for several minutes... like as in at least a half hour.

Once the doctor told us just to wait 45 seconds. It was at least 5 minutes before our wait was up.

It's like these people don't know how to tell time. Seriously. If they said, "Wait about 45 minutes to an hour and then the doctor will be in" it would be easier to cope with the anticipation of every noise potentially being the doctor coming in. But they don't. They give you false hope that you will be out of there in no time.

But I won't complain. Even if they can't tell time, at least they know medicine.

Anyway, the doctor came in, gave us a few options of what he'd try to use to pull out the foreign object but admitted that our best bet would probably be with a Ear Nose and Throat doctor. Of course at 9:00pm that wasn't really an option.

The ER doctor tried a couple of his instruments in hopes of getting the 'object in nose' out. Alex screamed and screamed. Nothing was productive. Except for Alex's lungs producing lots of air that helped sustain a nice, steady wail. He disliked the restrain -- the instruments in his nose were painless since the doctor really couldn't get too deep with them anyway. Alex screams like that in a car seat and I know a car seat is entirely painless but very restraining.

After making a few phone calls, the doctor gave us our last option: "Drive 20 minutes to the next hospital where the regional ENT doctor will meet you." I wanted to laugh. The hospital he was talking about was at LEAST 30-45 minutes away. But, that didn't matter... even though he did say 20 minutes. We agreed to go.

So, before we left the first hospital, we gave our address to the front desk so the nice people in that ER who never helped us could send us a nice, generous hospital bill. And then we drove to another hospital and gave them our contract contact information so they too could get a donation from us.

A weight, pulse, background check, etc. was all required here as well but we told them we had already verified all that at the last hospital. We were able to skip out on some of the requirements, thankfully. I think every time they pick up a pen or use an electronic item, you're charged another $50. Seriously, the kid has an object IN his nose -- does it really matter if the kid is up to date on his shots?

The wait began in another ER room but this one didn't last long. A kind, country-style doctor came in with frayed hemmed jeans, a wrinkled doctor's gown and a soft smile. He apologized for his attire as he explained he had just came from a movie theatre and was dressed for that occasion, not for medical purposes. He said all that while he waited for his microscopic glasses to unfog that he had just carried in from his car in a rustic, wooden box. He didn't make us feel like we had invaded on his evening and when we thanked him, he seemed too humble to even admit that he was doing anything worth thanking him for.

Now, this doctor was smart. He took one look at Alex and immediately called for a male CNA. He had Toby hold Alex, the male nurse restrain him and I (the soft hearted mother) stood on the perimeter and just watched.

7 seconds later a WHOLE sunflower seed popped out of Alex's right nostril. Seriously. The doctor just pulled it out with his long pick. Alex immediately stopped crying once he was no longer restrained and then he just looked at all the men in the room as if he was embarrassed that he had shed tears in such a masculine environment.

The doctor wrapped up his things and the CNA dropped the seed in the trash. We said thanks and goodbye and then a nurse came in and discharged us. Okay, that took a little bit since we hadn't filled our wait quota yet. But it was only a half hour 'minute'.

Our discharge papers had follow-up care which simply stated that we should "teach child not to put objects in nose." We entirely agree with the logic but have to conclude that it's slightly idealistic.

I can assure you we are doing our best to practice the hospital recommended follow-up care and when we get a double ER bill in the mail in a couple days, we'll be tempted to tie Alex's hands together so he can't put anything in his nose sue the sunflower seed company in hopes for enough money to cover the bill. Actually, we'll probably sell one of the kids just pay it and hope we never have to again.

The worst part about it is that we paid for that sunflower seed three times and ended up just throwing it away. And in our any economy, that's a pretty inefficient budgeting system.

Some Things I am Learning

-- The busiest times of my life seem to make it even easier to blog. Or maybe it's just that life is more interesting and I can say, "hey, that's one thing I've never blogged about before..."

-- Newer kitchens these days seem to be getting away from themes. Like, gone is the 90's trend when every room was defined by a theme. Especially kitchens.

-- The cottage look is in.

-- Updated houses are avoiding wall paper.

-- And doubly avoiding boarder.

-- A second sink in a kitchen is nice.

-- A second sink in a kitchen that's lower than standard is really nice. When you have kids.

-- A really scheduled baby is a really happy baby.

-- Wall cupboards are often hung at different heights. I wonder if this is just a trend or if it will stick like antiques do. They never go out of style.

-- I am really digging the 50's look. Polka dots and pastels all the way.

-- You can actually change/adjust/rearrange your kitchen lay out because of a 5" high window that you can't even see out of.

-- You can also consider buying a new stove for $1,000 just to fit it below the 5" high window that you can't even see out of.

-- You can have a 5" high window (that's about 4 feet long) in your kitchen that you can't see out of and that you are constructing your plan around, spending extra money on in order to incorporate it in your new kitchen plan and not even know exactly what to call that window. I call it a "barn window" because all the Wisconsin dairy barns have these 5" square glass block windows in the cement part of the walls. Where I come from, these glass blocks are widely known as Barn Windows. Toby asked me one day what in the world I had just called that window.

-- You can have an argument with your spouse and not even disagree on the topic.

-- You can debate with your spouse and not even disagree on the topic.

-- You can give the silent treatment over a topic you argued and debated but didn't disagree on.

-- The silent treatment doesn't always mean that you are quiet and avoiding your spouse. It could also mean that you just let them talk and explain them self better.

-- Just because it sounds like an argument doesn't mean it is one.

-- A scheduled baby is a happy baby. (did I already say that?)

-- A happy scheduled baby means a happy house.

-- A happy house means a happy spouse. (that goes for both the husband and wife.)

-- I just found out our house does have a mouse. Or two. It eats all the dog food.

-- A young cat can create a million tiny holes in a corner of your new leather recliner in just one millisecond. And ten minutes later it can match the contrasting corner with the same design of claw prints. Bad kitty.

-- A centipede that you can hear is a big centipede.

-- 4" of snow in Wisconsin is not a bad thing; 4" of snow in Nebraska is not a good thing.

-- Having the baby move out of our room never sounded so good. Or, so possible.

-- A 3-year-old with a screw driver can take his toy box apart. He really can.

-- And he can do it while you're blogging. Seriously.

-- Quiet children are a bad sign.

-- It means they are probably losing the screws they took out of the toy box.

-- I'd advise that you should probably more than likely end your blog so you can inspect the unfortunate toy box. And the busy children. And find the screws.

Alex Daniel

Look who was 5 months old the other day? Yeah, I'm always a day late and a dollar short but at least I'm a strong believer in better late than never.

And, oh yes! he is as fun in person as he looks on camera. Always ready for a smile, a hug, a cuddle and a little one-on-one time saying "ba-ba-ba-ba-ba!" For giving us such a hard time the first 4 months of his life, he has definitely made up for it now. A very happy and content baby but still loves to eat when he's hungry. (read, starving.) As you can tell from the pictures, he is never late for a meal.

Update in Pictures

Since I promised a certain grandma that I had a post already to put on here today of some certain grand children, the following blog is a fulfillment of that promise.

As a side note, a certain husband surprised his certain wife with a new camera! Our old one was despairing of life itself and making it sorely difficult to capture Kodak moments. I am enjoying our new Canon PowerShot SD750 and am realizing just how fun and easy it is to take pictures again. For those of you that have bemoaned the fact I hardly post pictures anymore, hopefully you'll see a few more around here than you have in the past. Now that I can actually take pictures and upload them without banging the camera or the computer just to get the "upload pictures" button to actually work or threatening to manually dismantle that thing we called a camera, I think you just might be able to finally see more picture updates.

Typical hair day.
Sisterly love.
Almost as big as my sister.
Hitching a ride.
True manhood. Camo pants. Cowboy boots. Biking.

Yes, she does sit still sometimes.
Celebrate Autumn! Make pumkin muffins!
Brothers for keeps.
Life is so serious.
But, I'm still cute.

Becoming a Man

He's got the leg cross down and everything.

1st Hair Cut

At almost 5 months old, Alex was ready for a hair cut. After being dubbed as "The Wild Man," I took pity on his character trait (wild hair) and decided to civilize him and spiff him up a bit. The first picture doesn't give enough credit to his hairy image (his hair was wet in the picture) but it was really getting long and straggly. Alex's aunt Vicki did the honors of cutting his hair and I think she did a good job.

Before the show began

When it started getting exciting

Performing the Lock Down

Utilizing the Lock Down (yes, I was laughing at him....)

The handsome boy!

A Pointless Post

With everything going on at once and not much happening at the same time, it's just plain hard to blog.

Take for example this evening while holding my calm (not) placid (not) delicate (not) 15+ pound baby boy on my lap while trying to catch up online. He kept kicking me and finally, I realized his intention had never been to kick me but actually kick at my warm cup of decaf coffee. Ahhh! What a warm sensation coffee can bring when you consume it in more ways than one. Especially while wearing an offwhite shirt. Talk about a double whammy.

Both of my older kiddos have fevers and I myself am a tad under the weather. Just got the sniffles. It's not like a full blown cold or anything, just an annoying nose is all. Not a big deal except when your nose is dripping, the baby is screaming, the phone is ringing and supper is cooking and you can't find a kleenex.

As I sit here now, I can see Alex just past my screen laying on the floor flopping and rocking from side to side. He's turned himself like the hand of a clock in an attempt to change views, reach for toys and look at me. He has almost rolled over several times. It would take two flies zooming past his fat bottom to upset his balance enough and cause him to fully roll from his back to his tummy. But, so far, I only see one fly down there. He is so close to turning.

What is it with flies this year? We have them so bad in (yes, even in) our house that you'd think we lived on a pig farm. Everyone I talk to says they too have the same kind of problems with flies. Mealtime is the worse. I have decided to set the table with the usual mealtime utensils but also add a fly swatter.

Yuck! you say. I know, that would be gross to have a dirty fly swatter. But, I figure that's better than a husband who tries to kill them with his bare hands all through the meal. Not only does he try, but he usually succeeds. He is especially inspired to kill when he sees more than one fly in an area the size of his palm. Ewww. I know. That's what I say too. But, men will be men and no amount of germs will keep men from being men.

Yet with those same hands, my husband will clean up a puke covered little girl while I sit and gag and look the other direction. He is so brave. So, I guess I'm glad most men aren't afraid of germs.

Well, Alex has about decided that his time alone has come to an end. He needs his mother, the poor neglected child. He just loves to always be right with me. Which wouldn't be so hard if he didn't weigh almost 20 lbs. at 4 months old and knew how to kick coffee down my chest. He's talented. Oh, and he LOVES to go shopping. Seriously. He does. I wear him in my MobyWrap and he just peers out and grins away at people until he gets too tired and then droops his head and takes a little snooze. I wonder if I could try something like that with my husband in order to help him enjoy shopping.

This isn't much of an update but like I said, not much going on lately yet everything happening at once. Then again, that's kinda how life is around here lately.

So yeah, this is an update.

The Sleeping Baby Dance

Do not expect this to work everytime. Your baby has to be just enough awake and just enough tired to comply with this formula. And even then this isn't a guarantee.

A side note before you continue --> The fact that your baby’s need fluctuate so much during the period of the dance, is in no way a reflection of your desperation. Your baby just wants variety. If you ate the same thing 6-8 times a day, you’d want some kind of change circulating somewhere in your life style. That’s how your baby feels. So that’s why he goes from being starving to neglected (and so forth and so on) in such a short time.

Here is my tried and true formula:

First, you feed the starving infant.
Then you diaper the neglected infant.
Then you try to feed the famished infant yet again.
Then you burp the painful infant.
Then you lay upon your chest the attention deprived infant.
Then you position upright the non-finicky infant.
Then you plop in the swing the swing longing infant.
Then you wrap in a snug blanket the cold infant.
Then you place a pacifier in the mouth of the suck induced infant.
Then you again change the diaper on the well fed infant.

Then you lose the pacifier and break the heart of your demanding infant.
Then you try another blanket on your needy infant.
Then you walk the restless infant.
Then you rock the unrestful infant.
Then you bounce the unrestfuller infant.
Then you walk, rock and bounce the unrestfullest infant.

And about the time you think you might need to look up on the internet again how to put infant to sleep, he suddenly, with no warning at all, leaves the land of the wakeful and heads right straight to dream land. Just like that, he’s gone.

He goes so fast you are concerned of his oxygen levels. So, you quickly shove a finger by his nose to check for adequate air. You count breath movements. You monitor his heart beats. You examine skin color and evaluate body temperature. And just to be sure, you gently shake him to check for reflexes.

You are pleased with your results and enjoy the wonderful fact that your child is actually sleeping! The only thing left is for you to head to bed yourself. Or so you think.

Unbeknown to you, the infant is playing possum. If you don’t believe me, put him in his bed and watch what happens. Then you repeat steps 1 through 17 above.

Enjoy your night!

Proof that Naps ARE Necessary

The frantic mad dash that happens around here at nap time is enough to make anyone tired. Except my kiddos. They seem to get hyped and energized by the ordeal and add to the mad brigade as much as they can. At this point, it suddenly dawns on me why naps are so important for kids. Especially my kids.

It usually starts with the baby. I hold his noon feeding off as long as possible so I can put him to sleep after the older kids. I like him to lay down LAST. About the time lunch time is over, he starts fussing for his meal. After a couple squeaks, he's in a full-fledged holler and the whole house takes shape for a catastrophe. Until this point, all was peaceful. But, Alex has officially sounded the alarm that nap time has come.

Then the next step towards total chaos is Janae either insists on going to bed now or else her attitude shows that she actually needs to go to bed five minutes ago. The only problem is that lately, she just starts crying for no reason when we prepare for bed. And she'll keep up the wailing for quite some time. So, now we have the baby squalling and Janae joining in. Who's next?

Well, Landon. Although he's not a crying kid, he does have antics of his own that can be just as debilitating for his character. He's also the first kid I like to lay down because he sleeps the longest. Does he like to lay down first? No. It starts with me telling him to go potty. He insists he just went potty yesterday. I tell him to go and make sure there's no pee left. He reminds me again he got rid of all his pee yesterday. By now, I'm laying down the law and enforcing a trip to the bathroom. He complies, pees like a race horse and then heads outside. I stop him on the thresh hold and tell him to go wash his hands in the bathroom. Thrilled with the chance to play with water, he gladly "washes" his hands.

Meanwhile, The Baby is crying loudly, Janae is crying louder and I'm trying to get both to quiet down. And the bathroom sink is running water. Lots of water.

I get Baby Alex calmed down, send Janae to her room until she stops crying and tell Landon to shut the water off, dry his hands and go to his bed and wait for me. Then, he says he has to go potty. Then he asks for a drink after he gets up from his nap. Then he decides he doesn't want to go to bed and runs through the house wailing at the top of his lungs and landing on the livingroom floor in a tearful heap. Now he's crying. I think his younger siblings are a bad influence on him.

Now all three kids are crying, thanks to nap time. I thought nap time was supposed to be peaceful?

Long story short, Landon gets tucked in bed, Janae gets rational and dries her tears and gets in bed happily (the attitude change is sudden) and I snatch up my sweet little baby and cuddle in my own bed with him. He's squealing with delight and gasping happily in anticipation of getting fed.

The Baby just gets latched on after his heightened expectancy and I hear a door open.

Ugh. No wonder why her attitude change had been sudden: Janae just got the bright idea that's she'd extend the Laying Down For Naps time a little longer and stop with the tears then start later with the Getting Out Of Bed.

So, I get up, ignore the weeping baby and attend to a Janae that decided she would be happy now and not cry. Okay, that's great but you still need a nap, I tell her. She's put back in bed, totally heartbroken that she has to stay there.

Alex who's now dozing gets a good portion of his feeding when I suddenly hear Janae wandering around her room singing, "Trust and Obey." What a fitting song, I muse as I detach myself from The Baby, fully waking him up and attend to Janae's disobedience.

I resume the feeding with the baby and soon hear more sounds coming from Janae. I regrettably leave Alex again go to Janae's room in time to find her streaking around the room naked because she says she peed.

Finally, several trips later, I looked into Janae's room after all was quiet and found her eerily sleeping in her bed with her eyes half open. Obviously, she was so tired she didn't even give herself time to shut her eyes before she went to sleep.

And this ends Day Number 1,976 of nap time at our house. Though the most exhausting part of our day, it definitely is worth it when the house is actually quiet for a good length of time. And stays quiet until Janae gets up. She's always the last one down and the first one up.

How I love naptime! It's my own little oasis in the desert of a long day. It's my own little island in the middle of the ocean of a busy day. Now for a little of my own nap time before little feet plop out of beds and head back out to the great and wonderful sleepless world of wake time!

What I Belong To

So, I have a blog. Yeah, who doesn't these days? The only thing with my blog is that I have it; it doesn't have me.

And that's not an entirely bad thing when I already belong to this:
(insert picture of the hardworking man)

And this.
(insert picture of the rugged and adventerous young man)


And this.
(insert picture of child who continually lives life on the edge)


And this.
(insert picture of that baby who smiles well on camera but screams well off camera)



The lack of posts can be explained by the above or can be summed up in this:
(insert picture of super mom power)

Change For A Time

As a sequel to "Time For A Change," I'll give a little update.

I knew something wasn't quite right with my baby when the most my baby ever did was scream. Not cry or be fussy but scream.

I chalked it up to him being on a bottle, him being a big eater, me drinking coffee a few days ago or him not dealing with a change of weather. I was not even going to think of a milk intolerance and proved it by cutting sugar out of my diet for a day or two to see if that would help.

It didn't help but I still knew Alex did not have a dairy intolerance. I mean come on! what would a person eat if they couldn't have something with dairy in it? Did you know even granola bars are made with dairy?

His diapers displayed some kind of distress but I blamed it on the gas he had from the popcorn we traditionally eat on Sunday night. So, I sacrificially cut out the popcorn. This definitely wasn't a sign of milk intolerance!

Alex would occasionally get a strange skin rash but I knew it was from the humidity, not dairy.

He would also have really strong gas and smelly diapers but even that wasn't from a dairy intolerance. No, this was not that serious.

And then I made that appointment with the lactation consultant and assumed I was going to get help for me to teach him how to nurse. As Alex screamed through the majority of the 2 hour appointment, she somehow conveyed to me over Alex's persistent wailing that we indeed had two problems: he wasn't latching on right and I was eating something irritating to him.

She gave me a list of symptoms and Alex had every single one, except for the bloody stools. The conclusion? Dairy Intolerance.

So, trying to be a good little mom, I cut dairy out. I quit eating cereal, ice cream, yogurt and buttered toast. You know, the real obvious things, the no-brainer dairy products. That helped a little but the screaming seemed to not improve the way the doctor thought it would. So, then I started getting serious and reading labels and that's when I learned that granola bars have dairy in them.

But, he still screams, the diapers are still strange and I'm still confused since I thought a milk intolerance would be the worst "allergy" a baby could have. I'm learning that it's not. The actual cause can be so hidden that many moms and health care providers never find the culprit.

I've heard story after story about colicky babies that are actually weaned from breast milk because they can't tolerate it. They're then put on special formulas only to have to be weaned off that even. Finally, trying goats milk brings relief for many babies.

I told Toby I felt bad that my milk is hurting Alex. And I feel especially bad since if I put him on goats milk, he'd probably do a lot better. Its weird to think that a smelly dumb goat could actually make him happier than me.

So, Toby thoughtfully recommended a goats diet for me and pointed out "all "the grains I could eat that would easily replace the dairy foods in my diet. His grain recommendations? Oatmeal and brown sugar three times a day.

It would be a shame to quit nursing now because at last Alex is happily and sufficiently breast feeding. A nipple shield has done the trick both in protecting me and in adjusting him from bottle to breast. He's a real cuddly baby so nursing is right up his alley. But, if only I could help him quit screaming.

On our recent trip to Wisconsin to visit family and friends and introduce Alex to everyone, I found it quite frustrating that my darling baby spent a lot of time just screaming. I felt like every time I showed up for something, I was arriving with my screaming kid. Every time some one commented to me on who they thought he looked like, they were having to yell in order to be heard over the screaming. Every time someone wanted to simply get a look at our new baby, they had to endure the loud screaming.

Except for one time when Alex amazed me and stayed completely peaceful and sweet and let a mother hold him who just lost her own little baby boy. He was never that quiet for that long for anyone all weekend long. I'm glad he picked that time to be that way though.

As we enjoy our growing (15lbs +) 2 1/2 month old little boy, I'm researching options, substituting foods and improvising recipes. I can't have any dairy at all -- not even to fry my eggs in butter. Which brings me to the next thing: maybe his intolerance includes eggs and soy as well. Yikes.

Read any ingredients list on anything related to food and tell me if you can find something that doesn't have dairy, eggs and soy in it.

Oh, and it has to have calories in it since I am a nursing mom. And if you do happen to find something, let me know.

Time For A Change

Later today, I plan to lug my 15 pound bundle of a baby boy and learn how to nurse. Yes, you read that right. I am going to a haven of lactation consultants and surrendering my instincts to someone that can help me learn how to channel my efforts in the right direction.

This Medela Pump In Style has been a life saver for my baby boy but it's time to cut the ties with it. It has been the bridge between Alex's nutrition and my ability to produce his nutrition. But it's time to burn that bridge. My freezers are experiencing a dairy dilemma, thanks to all the milk the pump has produced but it's time to make room for harvest occupants instead. Where is the milk bank when you need it? Or would that be better phrased: when they need you?

After 2 successfully nursed babies, I was confidant and unafraid of any nursing hurdles when I first had Alex. Except for the usual engorgement and frustration in waking a newborn baby to eat, I figured I'd be all professional this time.

But, that was not to be. I've had a breast infection, he's had colic. I've had a yeast infection, he's had colic. I've had production frustrations, he's had colic. I've had too much milk, he's had colic. I've had not enough milk, he's had colic. His improper latch technique has totally changed my approach to nursing him, and then we both have colic.

Did I mention that he has colic?

So, with my darling screaming baby today, I plan to educate myself in the ways of womanhood that are supposed to come natural but often don't when problems arise. I am praying that the results will conclude that I can indeed nurse, my baby can indeed latch on right and our home can indeed be inhabited by peace.

And to think I used to complain about our house being too quiet... may the peace return after the results from today.

Adjustments...

That's the news around here. Adjustments. It seems to be effecting everyone of us too.

Toby is adjusting to having a baby sleep in his room again. Every time the baby makes a sound (like as in a tiny grunt, squeak, wiggle or burp), I lunge gracefully to the baby before Toby makes a drastic dash across the bed in an attempt to make sure the baby is still breathing. And if the baby cries, well, I just better be glad I sleep closer to the baby than Toby does. Who knows what he'd do to the baby if he got to Alex before me.

The poor daddy is so tired. The wild, panic look in his eyes when the baby startles him from his sleep, is one of definite sleep deprivation. Finally last night, I took Alex out to the living room to finish the night off so Toby could have some uninterrupted sleep. But, when Toby got up in the morning, he looked no better off. I told him I had been on the recliner for the last half of the night so he could get some quality sleep. Hoping for a "thanks Honey, you're so thoughtful", I was surprised at his response. His only remark was, "That's why I woke up feeling bleak this morning." I guess he missed me.

Landon is adjusting too. But his adjustments are really strange. Like, he bit his sister because she was playing with his tape measure... he picked the dog up by the tail and attempted to carry her... he used another dog as a target for the large rock he was throwing... his hearing has become disabled... and he's really enjoying his baby brother. (I had to put something positive in there so you wouldn't think our old Landon got traded in for a new one.) It always amazes how kids adjust to things in ways that seem to make the adjustment harder.

Janae is adjusting well. She has become a lot more talkative, likes to feed her babies bottles, takes great care over her dolls and is just in general, a lot more predictable than should be expected of her. She does seem rather perturbed when the baby is crying and will scold at Alex with stern authority in her voice... "nnnnnnnnnnnnNNNNNOOOOO!" We're working on her patience level in this department but I think that since we don't allow her to cry uncontrollably for no reason, she assumes the rule applies to all individuals dwelling in our house.

The nanny has adjustments as well. Taking on the roll of mommy, laundry lady, home maker and everything else all at once, Britt has her hands full of adjustments these days. The poor dear has had her share of episodes with the kids. I wake up from naps and hear of wild tales of ink stained computers, thrown dog poop, moldy crickets (don't ask), crazy jaunts to the park and play time with toilet plungers. Just hearing these stories, makes me tired enough to just turn around and go back to sleep. Britt is brave.

And I'm adjusting too. I can't remember what it's like to get more than 4 hours of sleep at a time. My days seem to conform around a breast pump machine, diapers, bottles and a snugly little baby. I've learned a few things about myself though... for one, baby #3 has made me become more relaxed and laid back about things. So much so that I wake up in the morning with an empty bottle laying on the side of the bed and a baby propped up against my chest sleeping contentedly. I think I put him there and gave him the bottle myself but I have hardly any recollection of doing so. "I wonder if he burped yet?" I muse to myself as I wrap him up and tuck him in his own bed. I think I need some of Toby's worry syndrome to sober me up some.

Then there's other adjustments. Having to limit yourself on physical projects even if you think you feel good. Learning to make the most of each moment so you can be prepared for the next minute. Restricting your schedule to necessities, not ideals. Embracing survival mode.

And then there's those times of feeling overwhelmed. I always think I'm prepared for that part but with each baby, it hits me different. The guilt. The frustration. The fatigue.

First you get fatigued. Then you get frustrated because you're so fatigued. Then you feel guilty because you're frustrated about the fatigue. And because you feel guilty, you can't think straight about anything... Why didn't I buy organic wipes? I need to sterilize these bottles more... He's getting creases in 3 places on his arms but really, is he getting enough food? He cries every time I hold him so he must not like me... Do they even make organic wipes?

It's really too bad those things come with a precious new baby but, unfortunately, they do. Even when you do the best you can for your new baby, the dumbest things make you feel guilty. Like, the fact he's still exclusively getting a bottle and nursing continues to NOT go well at all. Or, the fits of crying without reason. Or, the fact your other kids hardly see you because you're either taking care of the baby or trying to sleep. These are all adjustments too.

I'm looking forward to the day when a steady routine can be the adjustment we make. But, for now, I guess we'll just have to get used to adjusting to adjustments.

And as long as I keep him in a clean diaper, I won't worry about organic wipes.

Warning: Girly Post

Actually, this is probably more of a "motherly" post considering the topic on my mind effects mothers more than it effects the general population of girls. And, considering the obvious fact that any girl that has become a mother, has 9.99 times out of 10 dealt with this topic, I'm confident to say I'm not alone.

But, to you people that are neither girls or mothers, this post may not be quite up your alley. So, just thought I'd warn you ahead of time.

Introduction aside, I knew something wasn't right when I had a better than text book labor, extraordinarily wonderful birth and then ended up with the cutest baby boy in the world. Wouldn't you know that fate caught up with me and landed me a pretty nasty catch.

101.8 fever. Chills. Pounding headache. Horrible aches. Awful pain in chest.

Do the math. Yes, I have a breast infection.

Not sure how I got started down this road, other than I think I made a wrong turn when I quit nursing and began pumping exclusively. The reason I did that was because of sores and a baby that wouldn't latch on right. And when I started pumping, I got the bright idea that if I pumped less often, my milk supply would even out to what my one single baby actually needed and would quit producing the amount normally needed for triplets.

It all was working out really good until the infection set in. Now I'm on antibiotics and violating every rule of thumb I normally follow when I'm nursing a baby.

In the meantime, I still am enjoying my darling baby boy to the hilt and loving every minute I get to cuddle and kiss him. He's a perfect baby and seems to adjust well to each change that comes his way. And that's a good thing considering all the adjustments he's had recently.

Hopefully within the next week, I'll be getting back on my feet again and settled back into a more pleasant routine of recovery. I was determined after I had Alex that there would be no medical set backs this time, no out-of-the-ordinary experiences and no emergency runs to the doctor. After Landon's birth, I had severe gall bladder problems and after Janae's birth, she spiked a fever for no reason and we rushed her to the ER. Plus, she had major nursing problems and would seriously choke several times during a feeding. There were always surprises after their births and I was taking the precautions necessary to avoid those set backs this time.

But, wouldn't you know it... I got a whole new set of circumstances just to prove that verse in Proverbs: Man makes his plans but the Lord directs his steps.

Looking forward to better days!

alex daniel

Alex Daniel

born: 6:48pm, Friday, June 15, 2007

8 lbs. 9 oz.

20 1/2" long

head: 14"

chest: 14"

Labor Log Sequel

Thanks to everyone for your kind comments and warm congratulations. The labor and birth went very well; I couldn't have designed the birth better than it went. The Lord was very good in answering specific prayers and desires I was even "afraid" to pray for.

I never thought I could say this about child birth but Alex's birth was actually fun. It was an exhilarating experience -- the pregnancy was by far worse than the birth. His birth was very peaceful and relaxing, I would actually do it again just for the fun of it. Toby thinks I'm crazy for saying that but really, it's true.

So, a big thank you to you all for your prayers and words of encouragement.


For those of you who can't wait for pictures, go to Britt's blog until I can get a better selection of pictures on here of the baby. She seems to be doing a pretty good job at keeping the blogosphere updated with Alex's pictures.