In the beginning, I wanted to keep my surgery on the down low, so I didn't tell a lot of people. I don't know how to explain the many reasons why. I just didn't know what to expect and I didn't want a ton of attention drawn to me as I explored this new, uncharted territory. Mostly, I just wanted to hurry and get it over with and finish healing before the Christmas/New Year's break was over and then get on with my life.
The Doctor said it would take 6-8 weeks to fully heal. But, who has time like that on their hands? He said I would be completely out of commission for at least two weeks. But, secretly, in my mind, I knew I could get lots of work done on the computer and catch up on my "how to be a better parent" book reading during those two weeks in bed. Ha! What did he know?
Well, it turns out that you can't read books or write coherent articles for the newspaper when you are taking narcotics around the clock. They are fun (the meds), but make the brain kind of fuzzy and hard to concentrate or string words together in understandable sentences. It turns out the Doctor was right and I couldn't do pretty much anything (including showering or putting on clothes without assistance for the first 9 days - what the heck?).
Well, now that I am a little more than 2 weeks out from the surgery and still wearing my pajamas every day and walking like an old lady (no offense to old ladies - but my sympathies), my surgery that was suppose to come and go like a blip on the radar is becoming more and more common place knowledge. Plus, I started blogging about it (not that many people read this blog, but still - I guess I don't really know who reads this blog?).
And, now I have one more little side note of a story (before getting to the point of this post) to tell you something amazing!
I like to make homemade hummus, and Brian loves to eat my homemade hummus. It is really simple to make, but every time I make it, I pull out the recipe and double check, just to make sure I don't overlook any of the ingredients.
Well, on day 1 or day 2 of my surgery (it's all fuzzy to me now), Brian wanted to make some hummus and apparently I said all of the ingredients and directions to him (in the right order) from my bed. And, the next day, I couldn't even remember doing it! And, the hummus turned out great. So, I guess now I know I do have that recipe memorized. A-mazing.
I know this has taken awhile, but I am getting to the point of this post - it's a little piece of advice about surgery not being a vacation or even an excuse for a date night.
I had my surgery early on a Wedensday morning and on Friday afternoon, the Doctor wanted me to come in so he could have a look and see how I was doing (it was his first time meeting me that I was NOT smiling, not to mention not wearing make-up and my hair was a fuzzy mess since I couldn't stand up long enough to even blow dry it after my "assisted" shower and having Brian put my support hose on - we will be such cute old people together, now I know). Anyways, I was not smiling or feeling good at all, but they said I seemed pretty much the way I should be for post-op day 2.
Then, we left the Doctor's office and the narcotics that were affecting my brain dissolved all reason and made me think, "Hey, my mom has the kids for the night, this is kind of like a date. Just me and my husband driving in a car on a Friday night." And, again, I have almost no memory of this at all, but apparently I suggested that he call Cafe Rio and order two salads to go so that we could go home and have like a "stay in" date night. I don't recall him running in to get the salads or anything, but I do remember sitting at the table at home eating this delicious salad and thinking what a great idea I had until I got halfway through and said, "I think I am going to throw up." And, people - regrettably, that is what I did. And, if crying is a bad idea when you've just had major abdominal surgery, throwing up is horrible.
And, the worst part was that I had just taken my pain meds less than 10 minutes before I threw up. So, I didn't know if I should take more pain meds. Because if I took double, that could be a dangerous overdose. But, if I had none in my system that could also be a recipe for disaster. So, I called the Doctor after hours and asked him what to do and he said, "Did you see the pills in the, well, you know . . ." And, of course I had no idea and Brian had no idea because it was all so fuzzy and confusing. Then, he said, "Well, try to gauge your pain level and if it feels like you are in more pain then take another pain pill."
Well, Doc, here is the thing, I just heaved my guts out a mere 48-hour after having my abdomen cut open and all of the muscles stitched tightly back together to close up a hernia, so my pain level is pretty high right now, but it's kind of hard to tell which is the cause - that or the fact that the pain pill came up, you know?
So, I gave up that conversation because it was not helpful.
Anyways, it was kind of an ugly scene and I am telling you this in case you ever have surgery and you have young kids at home and you so rarely get a night without them that you start thinking you are on a date night. Well. You're not.
And, this kind of reminds me of the time about nine years ago when I was feeling a little burned out taking care of my little 1 and 2.5 year old babies and I was scheduled to have oral surgery. I was so in need of a break that I said in the back of my mind, "Hmmm, being sedated and lying in a chair for a few hours sounds quite like a vacation right now." But, there were some complications (they were working on a front top tooth) and the next day I looked like I had been punched in the mouth - which made me feel self conscious like people might see me and think I had been in a fist fight with someone. After it was all over, I said to myself, "That was NOT a vacation."
I guess I never learn.
Friday, January 11, 2013
Sunday, January 6, 2013
My Knight on a White Horse
I usually can't really relate when I read statements by wives who say their husbands are their "Knights in Shining Armor." I mean, really? Are other peoples' lives like that? Are they just being dramatic? My life doesn't often feel like a fairy tale where we are riding off in the sunset. It's a lot of hard work. So, things like that don't really resonate with me.
But, now I have my own story to share and it goes like this:
On the day after Christmas, I had surgery and Brian was in charge of taking care of me for the first few days. I was a little nervous, because, if you know Brian, you know he is a fun-loving guy and I was a little afraid that he would be too busy making wise cracks to get all the notes straight when the nurse explained the medication schedule in which I had to be given a strong narcotic every three hours. But, if they got mixed up and I took them in the wrong order, I could stop breathing.
He drove me home from the surgery, and I was in quite a painful state, all hunched over like a little old lady, wearing my support hose to stop blood clots or something. All the time driving home and all the time walking up to the front door, all I could think about was getting into my nice cozy bed and getting back to my sideways, acid tripping, narcotic induced dreamland.
I couldn't lay flat. I had to have my upper body at an incline and my legs propped up. So, Brian went about arranging the pillows. But, when I laid down that first time, I wasn't comfortable and I was in way too much pain to be adjusting the pillows and getting them just right. Poor Brian felt helpless and didn't know what to do. And, I didn't know what to tell him to do. My brain was in no state to be reasonable so I started to cry, and let me tell you right now, that crying is not a good idea after major surgery so, foggy brain or no, I had to find a way to stop that in its tracks.
Finally, the pillows were acceptable and I drifted off to sleep.
For the next several days, here is what happened:
That crazy, funny husband of mine set alarms in his new iphone 5 (Christmas gift from yours truly) and he gave me every narcotic right on time never missing a beat. He even woke up in the night to give me my meds and he kept me virtually pain free (and in a colorful dreamland). And, the best part? After the first pillow fiasco, he figured out the exact right way to arrange the pillows to make me more comfortable than I could have ever thought possible.
Truly, I would get out of bed and then back in and try to arrange the pillows myself and I was just a mess. Then, he would appear out of nowhere and magically make it all just right. Then, he would tuck the covers up around my chin and I have never felt so like I was married to prince charming in all my life.
Really. I even get a little teary now when I try to tell him thank you for doing it. And, I know that now I sound dramatic and silly like all the other ladies writing about their husbands being their "knights" or their "princes."
But, that is just the way it is.
But, now I have my own story to share and it goes like this:
On the day after Christmas, I had surgery and Brian was in charge of taking care of me for the first few days. I was a little nervous, because, if you know Brian, you know he is a fun-loving guy and I was a little afraid that he would be too busy making wise cracks to get all the notes straight when the nurse explained the medication schedule in which I had to be given a strong narcotic every three hours. But, if they got mixed up and I took them in the wrong order, I could stop breathing.
He drove me home from the surgery, and I was in quite a painful state, all hunched over like a little old lady, wearing my support hose to stop blood clots or something. All the time driving home and all the time walking up to the front door, all I could think about was getting into my nice cozy bed and getting back to my sideways, acid tripping, narcotic induced dreamland.
I couldn't lay flat. I had to have my upper body at an incline and my legs propped up. So, Brian went about arranging the pillows. But, when I laid down that first time, I wasn't comfortable and I was in way too much pain to be adjusting the pillows and getting them just right. Poor Brian felt helpless and didn't know what to do. And, I didn't know what to tell him to do. My brain was in no state to be reasonable so I started to cry, and let me tell you right now, that crying is not a good idea after major surgery so, foggy brain or no, I had to find a way to stop that in its tracks.
Finally, the pillows were acceptable and I drifted off to sleep.
For the next several days, here is what happened:
That crazy, funny husband of mine set alarms in his new iphone 5 (Christmas gift from yours truly) and he gave me every narcotic right on time never missing a beat. He even woke up in the night to give me my meds and he kept me virtually pain free (and in a colorful dreamland). And, the best part? After the first pillow fiasco, he figured out the exact right way to arrange the pillows to make me more comfortable than I could have ever thought possible.
Truly, I would get out of bed and then back in and try to arrange the pillows myself and I was just a mess. Then, he would appear out of nowhere and magically make it all just right. Then, he would tuck the covers up around my chin and I have never felt so like I was married to prince charming in all my life.
Really. I even get a little teary now when I try to tell him thank you for doing it. And, I know that now I sound dramatic and silly like all the other ladies writing about their husbands being their "knights" or their "princes."
But, that is just the way it is.
Christmas Symphony With Ian
Some wonderful neighbors offered us two tickets to see the Utah Symphony the week before Christmas. I was very excited since Brian and I love the symphony, but as luck would have it, Brian had a work assignment he could not get out of the night of the performance. I got on the phone to call around and see if I could find someone else to go with me and my musical son Ian overheard and piped up saying that he would like to go. Well, of course I was thrilled that my 10-year-old son was asking to come to the symphony with me so - it was a date.
The performance was so, so lovely. There was a choir and two professional singers who just blew us to the backs of our seats with their voices. The songs were all delightful, mostly a medley of favorite Christmas tunes. When I glanced down at the program, I noticed that "O Holy Night" was near the end. That is one of my all time favorite Christmas songs and here is a story of why:
In the fall of 1997, I got to attend a semester abroad at BYU Jerusalem. It was one of the most blessed and wonder filled times in my life. The Jerusalem center was like living in a palace. I'm not just saying all of this in glossed over retrospect, I really felt that way even when I lived there. It is a true architectural wonder. I had a balcony and my own personal rose garden just off of my bedroom with a magnificent view of the city and the most amazing professors ever. It was a magical time in my life.
Each Sunday, we attended sacrament meeting on the upper floor of the center which had stadium style seating facing a two-story solid glass window that overlooked the city from the Mount of Olives. Can you imagine how blessed to get to attend sacrament meeting under such circumstances every Sunday?
Toward the end of our stay (we went back home just before Christmas) we had an evening talent show in the upper room and one of my roommates sang the song "O Holy Night." To this day, I have to say, it was the most beautiful rendition I have ever heard. I would hear her on the upper floor practicing for weeks before the performance and the workers would stop their duties and tell her she should travel the world as a performer, so beautiful was her voice.
After I came home from my time in Jerusalem, each Christmas when I would hear that song I would be instantly transported back to that beautiful room with the magnificent view and I would hear my roommate's unforgettable voice in my mind. It often brought a tear to my eye thinking back to that very sacred time in my life.
As the years went on, I went through some rough patches in life, and one year at Christmas I heard the song and the tears came, but after awhile, I realized that they weren't happy tears of joyful memories, they were bitter tears because my life in that moment was so much the opposite of the blessed life I had experienced back in my castle in Jerusalem. And the years went on like that. Sometimes, the song took me back to a happy spot and other times the contrast was too great and a bit of sadness set in.
When I saw the song on the program, I wondered if it would transform me back in time the way it had so many times before. But, when it came, something different happened. Instead of seeing that wondrous, beautiful setting of old and instead of hearing the gorgeous voice in my head of my roommate, I felt a sudden clarity that we are sometimes blessed to feel in life. A clarity of being completely present right there in that moment. I felt so blessed to be sitting in those center row balcony seats enjoying such an inspiring performance. I felt so grateful for the thoughtful neighbors who had given us this gift. And, most of all, I felt like the luckiest person ever to be sitting next to the most awesome 10-year-old boy I have ever known and to get to be his mom.
I didn't need to be transported back to that blessed moment in my life because the moment I was in happened to be just perfect.
The performance was so, so lovely. There was a choir and two professional singers who just blew us to the backs of our seats with their voices. The songs were all delightful, mostly a medley of favorite Christmas tunes. When I glanced down at the program, I noticed that "O Holy Night" was near the end. That is one of my all time favorite Christmas songs and here is a story of why:
In the fall of 1997, I got to attend a semester abroad at BYU Jerusalem. It was one of the most blessed and wonder filled times in my life. The Jerusalem center was like living in a palace. I'm not just saying all of this in glossed over retrospect, I really felt that way even when I lived there. It is a true architectural wonder. I had a balcony and my own personal rose garden just off of my bedroom with a magnificent view of the city and the most amazing professors ever. It was a magical time in my life.
Each Sunday, we attended sacrament meeting on the upper floor of the center which had stadium style seating facing a two-story solid glass window that overlooked the city from the Mount of Olives. Can you imagine how blessed to get to attend sacrament meeting under such circumstances every Sunday?
Toward the end of our stay (we went back home just before Christmas) we had an evening talent show in the upper room and one of my roommates sang the song "O Holy Night." To this day, I have to say, it was the most beautiful rendition I have ever heard. I would hear her on the upper floor practicing for weeks before the performance and the workers would stop their duties and tell her she should travel the world as a performer, so beautiful was her voice.
After I came home from my time in Jerusalem, each Christmas when I would hear that song I would be instantly transported back to that beautiful room with the magnificent view and I would hear my roommate's unforgettable voice in my mind. It often brought a tear to my eye thinking back to that very sacred time in my life.
As the years went on, I went through some rough patches in life, and one year at Christmas I heard the song and the tears came, but after awhile, I realized that they weren't happy tears of joyful memories, they were bitter tears because my life in that moment was so much the opposite of the blessed life I had experienced back in my castle in Jerusalem. And the years went on like that. Sometimes, the song took me back to a happy spot and other times the contrast was too great and a bit of sadness set in.
When I saw the song on the program, I wondered if it would transform me back in time the way it had so many times before. But, when it came, something different happened. Instead of seeing that wondrous, beautiful setting of old and instead of hearing the gorgeous voice in my head of my roommate, I felt a sudden clarity that we are sometimes blessed to feel in life. A clarity of being completely present right there in that moment. I felt so blessed to be sitting in those center row balcony seats enjoying such an inspiring performance. I felt so grateful for the thoughtful neighbors who had given us this gift. And, most of all, I felt like the luckiest person ever to be sitting next to the most awesome 10-year-old boy I have ever known and to get to be his mom.
I didn't need to be transported back to that blessed moment in my life because the moment I was in happened to be just perfect.
Friday, December 7, 2012
Vote My Kids For President
Sophie and Ian participated in a six-week enrichment program at school. At the end of the program, the kids designed campaign posters, political brochures and gave public speeches as if they were running for president of the United States. I wanted to record the things they wrote in the political brochures to save these words forever.
(Sophie)
If elected I will . . .
*Stop inappropriate use of guns
*Make second hand smoke disappear
*Make gas prices lower
"You should have the right person for the USA. You deserve better. I can do that!"
"Have a better life in the YoUSA. All people are created equal so I say LET FREEDOM RING!"
I can do anything, for example . . .
*I read a 734 page book in 5 days.
*I hiked higher than the Empire State Building
*I'm running for president
"I'm right for you!"
(Ian)
My Plan for America . . .
*Get out of national debt
*No more crime
*Taxes lowered
*Economy raised
*No more wildfires
*No more drugs
*No more homelessness
*Fuel prices lowered
My achievements . . .
*9 point krypto challenge (at the math olympiad)
*7.3 foot long jump
*Ran 2 5Ks
*Voted on class council
*Nominated for class mayor (edited to add - he was elected class mayor this month!)
*All of my grades are A+
Where I've been in the U.S.A
Ogden
San Diego
Las Vegas
Kennecott Copper Mine
Death Valley
Denver, Colorado
Boise, Idaho
St. George
Brigham City
Corner of Arizona
Through Wyoming
Issues of our country that I will fix . . .
*National debt
*Fuel prices
*Drugs
*Crime
*Nature
*Homelessness
*Taxes
*Economy
*Wildfires
Then Isaac brought home an assignment from school yesterday that said, "If I were president I would make everyone have $1,000,000."
Sounds pretty good, right?
(Sophie)
If elected I will . . .
*Stop inappropriate use of guns
*Make second hand smoke disappear
*Make gas prices lower
"You should have the right person for the USA. You deserve better. I can do that!"
"Have a better life in the YoUSA. All people are created equal so I say LET FREEDOM RING!"
I can do anything, for example . . .
*I read a 734 page book in 5 days.
*I hiked higher than the Empire State Building
*I'm running for president
"I'm right for you!"
(Ian)
My Plan for America . . .
*Get out of national debt
*No more crime
*Taxes lowered
*Economy raised
*No more wildfires
*No more drugs
*No more homelessness
*Fuel prices lowered
My achievements . . .
*9 point krypto challenge (at the math olympiad)
*7.3 foot long jump
*Ran 2 5Ks
*Voted on class council
*Nominated for class mayor (edited to add - he was elected class mayor this month!)
*All of my grades are A+
Where I've been in the U.S.A
Ogden
San Diego
Las Vegas
Kennecott Copper Mine
Death Valley
Denver, Colorado
Boise, Idaho
St. George
Brigham City
Corner of Arizona
Through Wyoming
Issues of our country that I will fix . . .
*National debt
*Fuel prices
*Drugs
*Crime
*Nature
*Homelessness
*Taxes
*Economy
*Wildfires
Then Isaac brought home an assignment from school yesterday that said, "If I were president I would make everyone have $1,000,000."
Sounds pretty good, right?
Sunday, November 18, 2012
"Oh No. Not the CDA!"
I have good news! Yesterday, I officially completed the 120 hours of classroom training needed to obtain my CDA. Brian always teases me with a reference to Monsters Inc. ("Halt! This is the Child Detection Agency! . . . Oh no. Not those guys . . .).
No, it's not that. It's my Child Development Associate. Now that I have put in the classroom time, I am working on a resource binder. It is about halfway complete. Once that is done, I will be 90% finished with the requirements. I will have a formal observation while working with kids, take a test and survey the parents I work for. But, those things will take a lot less time than the classes and the binder.
This is an extra credential you can get if you are a child care provider and I figured since I am licensed now, why not? Well, and there is a cash incentive. Once I get my CDA, I am going to cram in another 80 hours of classroom time so I can get another credential and a (bigger) cash bonus when I renew my license in May.
Some of the classes are kind of fun and yesterday I met a really cool lady who has been doing licensed child care in her home for 30-years. I could tell from talking to her that she runs a top notch program with daily art projects and a preschool program. She gave me lots of good ideas. And, I was encouraged by the rates she charges too (right here in Ogden!). She is pulling in some cash, but she is working hard for it and is open for longer hours than I am. It was encouraging because it gave me a vision of what my program can grow into with time and as my own kids get older.
I also got excited because she told me how to open a retirement account. I've always thought that was one of the greatest drawbacks to being self-employed -- no retirement. But, I didn't realize I could do it all on my own. Of course, when I told Brian this, he said he knew that all along. So, maybe I am the only person who didn't realize this?
Anyways, in other news, Isaac gave me a scare last night. He came home from school on Friday with a hoarse voice and barking cough. By bedtime he had a fever. When he was still coughing and feverish yesterday, we had to make some adjustments to our plans.
Brian's sister and her husband and five kids came in town for the holiday and were planning to spend Saturday night with us. In addition, we were hosting Sunday dinner for all of Brian's siblings and their families. I was pretty excited for these plans, but we didn't want to expose everyone to Isaac's sickness, so, to our disappointment, the cousins had to make a new plan for where to sleep Saturday night and the family party was moved to another sibling's house.
We were also planning to take the whole family (along with our out of town guests) to a concert in Logan Saturday night -- to see another one of Brian's sisters perform. Brian decided to take Sophie and Ian to the concert while I stayed home with Isaac and Katie. Around 6 p.m., I checked Isaac's fever and discovered it had spiked, so I got him up off his resting place on the couch to see if he could eat a sandwich and take some ibuprofen. Before we got to the sandwich, he had a coughing fit and was having a very hard time breathing. It was so scary! He was obviously struggling a great deal to take in breaths and looking desperately into my eyes squeaking out the words, "My breather isn't working."
It was, of course, croup, an illness that (thankfully) I don't have much experience with. I knew it was croup, but I also didn't know how severe his breathing was restricted, so I got a little panicked. I picked up the phone not sure if I should call the after hours doctor or 911, so, of course, I called my mom. She calmly told me to take him into the bathroom and run the shower. That reminded me that croup also responds to cold outdoor air. So, I bundled him in a blanket and sat him on a stool outside while I got the bathroom all steamy. After he sat outside for 10 minutes and in the bathroom for 15 more, he was breathing well enough for me to look up the urgent care clinic hours. They were open until 8 p.m. (hooray!) no emergency room visit needed.
I loaded up Katie and Isaac and a couple of PB&J sandwiches and we headed to the clinic. Illness almost never gets my Isaac down. He is a man of steel. But, I could tell he was pretty sick by the way he lay listlessly on the exam table (not at all like the way he usually explores every inch of the room and gets into everything when I take him to the doctor). He was still having such a hard time breathing that all of the nurses would say, "What are we seeing you for?" One look at Isaac and then, "Oh, never mind."
They did a strep culture just to be sure he didn't have that too (and they did it so deep and for so long it made him throw up), gave him some steroids and sent us on our way. By 9 p.m., we were back at home and he was sleeping soundly with much better breathing. I kept him in my room all night just to be sure. Today, he seems almost completely better, but I'm keeping him calm and resting so we don't have a relapse. Whew! I'm so grateful he is O.K.
No, it's not that. It's my Child Development Associate. Now that I have put in the classroom time, I am working on a resource binder. It is about halfway complete. Once that is done, I will be 90% finished with the requirements. I will have a formal observation while working with kids, take a test and survey the parents I work for. But, those things will take a lot less time than the classes and the binder.
This is an extra credential you can get if you are a child care provider and I figured since I am licensed now, why not? Well, and there is a cash incentive. Once I get my CDA, I am going to cram in another 80 hours of classroom time so I can get another credential and a (bigger) cash bonus when I renew my license in May.
Some of the classes are kind of fun and yesterday I met a really cool lady who has been doing licensed child care in her home for 30-years. I could tell from talking to her that she runs a top notch program with daily art projects and a preschool program. She gave me lots of good ideas. And, I was encouraged by the rates she charges too (right here in Ogden!). She is pulling in some cash, but she is working hard for it and is open for longer hours than I am. It was encouraging because it gave me a vision of what my program can grow into with time and as my own kids get older.
I also got excited because she told me how to open a retirement account. I've always thought that was one of the greatest drawbacks to being self-employed -- no retirement. But, I didn't realize I could do it all on my own. Of course, when I told Brian this, he said he knew that all along. So, maybe I am the only person who didn't realize this?
Anyways, in other news, Isaac gave me a scare last night. He came home from school on Friday with a hoarse voice and barking cough. By bedtime he had a fever. When he was still coughing and feverish yesterday, we had to make some adjustments to our plans.
Brian's sister and her husband and five kids came in town for the holiday and were planning to spend Saturday night with us. In addition, we were hosting Sunday dinner for all of Brian's siblings and their families. I was pretty excited for these plans, but we didn't want to expose everyone to Isaac's sickness, so, to our disappointment, the cousins had to make a new plan for where to sleep Saturday night and the family party was moved to another sibling's house.
We were also planning to take the whole family (along with our out of town guests) to a concert in Logan Saturday night -- to see another one of Brian's sisters perform. Brian decided to take Sophie and Ian to the concert while I stayed home with Isaac and Katie. Around 6 p.m., I checked Isaac's fever and discovered it had spiked, so I got him up off his resting place on the couch to see if he could eat a sandwich and take some ibuprofen. Before we got to the sandwich, he had a coughing fit and was having a very hard time breathing. It was so scary! He was obviously struggling a great deal to take in breaths and looking desperately into my eyes squeaking out the words, "My breather isn't working."
It was, of course, croup, an illness that (thankfully) I don't have much experience with. I knew it was croup, but I also didn't know how severe his breathing was restricted, so I got a little panicked. I picked up the phone not sure if I should call the after hours doctor or 911, so, of course, I called my mom. She calmly told me to take him into the bathroom and run the shower. That reminded me that croup also responds to cold outdoor air. So, I bundled him in a blanket and sat him on a stool outside while I got the bathroom all steamy. After he sat outside for 10 minutes and in the bathroom for 15 more, he was breathing well enough for me to look up the urgent care clinic hours. They were open until 8 p.m. (hooray!) no emergency room visit needed.
I loaded up Katie and Isaac and a couple of PB&J sandwiches and we headed to the clinic. Illness almost never gets my Isaac down. He is a man of steel. But, I could tell he was pretty sick by the way he lay listlessly on the exam table (not at all like the way he usually explores every inch of the room and gets into everything when I take him to the doctor). He was still having such a hard time breathing that all of the nurses would say, "What are we seeing you for?" One look at Isaac and then, "Oh, never mind."
They did a strep culture just to be sure he didn't have that too (and they did it so deep and for so long it made him throw up), gave him some steroids and sent us on our way. By 9 p.m., we were back at home and he was sleeping soundly with much better breathing. I kept him in my room all night just to be sure. Today, he seems almost completely better, but I'm keeping him calm and resting so we don't have a relapse. Whew! I'm so grateful he is O.K.
Monday, November 12, 2012
This Makes Me Smile
A few months ago, I posted about my fears associated with running a full time child care from my home. Today, I want to say that, even though it has its ups and downs like any job, it's mostly been great.
There are lots of things that make it that way -- getting to still be with Katie all day is at the top of the list. My decision to become licensed was a good one despite the many hoops to jump through.
I've been taking lots of child development classes at Weber State University since May. They have a lot of good ideas and help me have a clearer focus and feel more of a sense of purpose in what I am doing.
Here is a story that makes me happy.
I started watching one of my babies when he was just 2-weeks old. That is the youngest baby I've ever spent so much time with (other than my own). When he was about 3 months old, I asked my mom to come to my house and help me one afternoon. It was Katie's 3rd Birthday and I wanted her to hold the baby while I got some things done for her party.
My mom held him, but she said, "I think he wants you." I said, "No way, he is too young to express a preference for me over you." But, it soon became clear that he was only happy if she was holding him where he could see me. That is the way my own babies were -- knowing who I was and wanting me over someone else even at a young age. But, that was the first time I realized that someone else's baby felt that way about me. It really touched me.
Now that baby is 8 1/2 months old and still as sweet as can be! I began watching another baby when school started. She will be 1 next month. I love watching them crawl around like little partners in crime. They always keep me in their sights. Again I was reminded of the bond we have when, the other day, one of the other kids needed a bandaid. I walked down the hall quickly to grab one and both babies came speed crawling right behind me.
I feel very blessed to get to watch kids who are so sweet. They make me smile.
There are lots of things that make it that way -- getting to still be with Katie all day is at the top of the list. My decision to become licensed was a good one despite the many hoops to jump through.
I've been taking lots of child development classes at Weber State University since May. They have a lot of good ideas and help me have a clearer focus and feel more of a sense of purpose in what I am doing.
Here is a story that makes me happy.
I started watching one of my babies when he was just 2-weeks old. That is the youngest baby I've ever spent so much time with (other than my own). When he was about 3 months old, I asked my mom to come to my house and help me one afternoon. It was Katie's 3rd Birthday and I wanted her to hold the baby while I got some things done for her party.
My mom held him, but she said, "I think he wants you." I said, "No way, he is too young to express a preference for me over you." But, it soon became clear that he was only happy if she was holding him where he could see me. That is the way my own babies were -- knowing who I was and wanting me over someone else even at a young age. But, that was the first time I realized that someone else's baby felt that way about me. It really touched me.
Now that baby is 8 1/2 months old and still as sweet as can be! I began watching another baby when school started. She will be 1 next month. I love watching them crawl around like little partners in crime. They always keep me in their sights. Again I was reminded of the bond we have when, the other day, one of the other kids needed a bandaid. I walked down the hall quickly to grab one and both babies came speed crawling right behind me.
I feel very blessed to get to watch kids who are so sweet. They make me smile.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
I Love: Snowmen in my Yard
I love magical snowstorms. When the kids were little, starting from the first year Sophie could walk, I made it a point to take the kids outside and build a snowman when we got our first good snowstorm of the year. I love driving through the neighborhood after a storm and seeing all those creatively crafted guys staring out at the street.
I did this every year until Isaac was 3 or 4. Truth be told, I am a fair weather kind of gal and I don't relish getting all bundled up in my snow gear and romping around the yard. O.K. Truth be told, I actually do enjoy building snowmen with the kids, I just have a hard time talking myself into it because I don't like being cold.
My point is, I was kind of hoping that it would catch on and that one day, they would build their own snowmen.
This year, Isaac carried out the tradition unprompted and unassisted.
We had a magical snowstorm a few weeks ago. We had been having a lovely, mild fall when suddenly we were hit with a good accumulation of snow. It wasn't huge, but when it was done we had a good 4 or so inches standing on our front lawn. Isaac and his friend Jordan came home from school and before they even came inside they had built two beautiful snowmen together complete with stick arms, goofy faces, and one of them even had a narrow board for a tie. Cute. Cute. Cute.
I was so happy and I even snapped pictures.
This storm melted away as suddenly as came. In fact, the boys were out building the snowmen wearing snowpants, boots, short sleeve shirts and gloves. It was a sight! All of that snow and 60-degree sunshine beaming down on them as they worked.
Then we had the most beautiful fall weather I can imagine for a few more weeks. The warmest Halloween ever! I think we had a high of at least 70-degrees. The fall leaves were so pretty. I love living in an old neighborhood where the streets are all lined with ancient trees. It feels like a fairy tale.
On Thursday, as I drove around, the wind swirled the leaves around me like snow globe. And, then Friday, the snow came. And came, and came, and came. It snowed all day until, when I left my house at 6 p.m. to take Sophie and Ian and meet my mom for a production of "Footloose," there was at least 4 or more inches.
School got out early on Friday, and all of my kids had their friends over to play. I had the day off from babysitting since one of the kids I watch had a fever, yet I still ended up with 9 kids at my house for the afternoon. It is so wonderful that they all have such nice friends.
Isaac and his friend Birdie built another snowman and then spent hours making dams out of snow in the gutter. I love that Birdie. She likes to catch bugs too. Isaac's kind of girl!
The real surprise came when we woke up Saturday morning to at least a 12-inch accumulation! I love storms that dump.
I had a class at Weber State until 3 p.m., and Brian took the kids with him to Salt Lake to shoot an assignment for the newspaper. His second assignment got canceled and he took them all to IHOP. I was sooooooo grateful that he had them instead of having to leave them with a babysitter all day. Not that sitters are bad, but don't you think an outing to IHOP with your dad is the bomb?
When we all got home that afternoon, Isaac was immediately back in his snow clothes -- making snow angels and sledding down our front lawn. A truck parked in front of our house and I watched him repeatedly slide down and bump into the tire over and over. Sometimes he just lay in the sled gazing up at the sky. He looked like a man in paradise.
I was inside busily whipping up a cinnamon (with no nuts) cake and getting ready for Ian's big birthday party. He is turning 10 this week.
I did this every year until Isaac was 3 or 4. Truth be told, I am a fair weather kind of gal and I don't relish getting all bundled up in my snow gear and romping around the yard. O.K. Truth be told, I actually do enjoy building snowmen with the kids, I just have a hard time talking myself into it because I don't like being cold.
My point is, I was kind of hoping that it would catch on and that one day, they would build their own snowmen.
This year, Isaac carried out the tradition unprompted and unassisted.
We had a magical snowstorm a few weeks ago. We had been having a lovely, mild fall when suddenly we were hit with a good accumulation of snow. It wasn't huge, but when it was done we had a good 4 or so inches standing on our front lawn. Isaac and his friend Jordan came home from school and before they even came inside they had built two beautiful snowmen together complete with stick arms, goofy faces, and one of them even had a narrow board for a tie. Cute. Cute. Cute.
I was so happy and I even snapped pictures.
This storm melted away as suddenly as came. In fact, the boys were out building the snowmen wearing snowpants, boots, short sleeve shirts and gloves. It was a sight! All of that snow and 60-degree sunshine beaming down on them as they worked.
Then we had the most beautiful fall weather I can imagine for a few more weeks. The warmest Halloween ever! I think we had a high of at least 70-degrees. The fall leaves were so pretty. I love living in an old neighborhood where the streets are all lined with ancient trees. It feels like a fairy tale.
On Thursday, as I drove around, the wind swirled the leaves around me like snow globe. And, then Friday, the snow came. And came, and came, and came. It snowed all day until, when I left my house at 6 p.m. to take Sophie and Ian and meet my mom for a production of "Footloose," there was at least 4 or more inches.
School got out early on Friday, and all of my kids had their friends over to play. I had the day off from babysitting since one of the kids I watch had a fever, yet I still ended up with 9 kids at my house for the afternoon. It is so wonderful that they all have such nice friends.
Isaac and his friend Birdie built another snowman and then spent hours making dams out of snow in the gutter. I love that Birdie. She likes to catch bugs too. Isaac's kind of girl!
The real surprise came when we woke up Saturday morning to at least a 12-inch accumulation! I love storms that dump.
I had a class at Weber State until 3 p.m., and Brian took the kids with him to Salt Lake to shoot an assignment for the newspaper. His second assignment got canceled and he took them all to IHOP. I was sooooooo grateful that he had them instead of having to leave them with a babysitter all day. Not that sitters are bad, but don't you think an outing to IHOP with your dad is the bomb?
When we all got home that afternoon, Isaac was immediately back in his snow clothes -- making snow angels and sledding down our front lawn. A truck parked in front of our house and I watched him repeatedly slide down and bump into the tire over and over. Sometimes he just lay in the sled gazing up at the sky. He looked like a man in paradise.
I was inside busily whipping up a cinnamon (with no nuts) cake and getting ready for Ian's big birthday party. He is turning 10 this week.
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