Baby Makes Three!

Does That Make Me A Bad Mom?

2009-04-05T20:47:00.000-07:00

My 6 month old baby girl beat up my 3rd grade daughter tonight and all I could do was laugh. Not just laugh, but laugh so hard that tears were squeezing themselves out and rolling down my cheeks.

Does that make me a bad Mom?

Baby was screaming. Big sister was asked to help out. She picked up the innocent-looking, chubby assailant and all Hell broke loose.

Arms were flailing. Ear-piercing screams were coming out of a very red face. I looked over as I made a quick bottle and big sis was crying too. I seriously thought it was a joke. It looked absolutely ridiculous and hilarious. Baby sister was doing some serious fit-throwing, butt-kicking and bis sister was crying.

Does that make me a bad Mom?

In my defense, I thought big sis was joking. We do have a demented sense of humor in our family. The sad part was even when I finally discovered that the tears were real...the 8 yr. old's tears....I still was laughing.

I could not stop myself.

The more I tried to stop, the more I laughed. I feel badly that I laughed, but I seriously could NOT stop.

Does that make me a bad Mom?

Before you say, "YES," please know that I did stop laughing long enough to apologize for my actions. I tried to relay to my oldest daughter how ironic the scene was that unfolded before me.....little chubby baby in her pink footy pajamas, screaming her little baby head off, arms hitting big sister's face in I-want-bottle frustration,and big sister's mouth wide open crying too. Seriously, that's funny, right?

Does that make me a bad Mom?

Eczema Joy and an Eczema Don't

2009-03-28T21:22:00.000-07:00

I never knew I could be so thankful for beautiful skin...on another person...until my dear, sweet boy, Max came along into my life. He has had an especially bad year with his eczema...severe infections, bed-ridden pain for days on end, red-bloody-oozy skin (totally gross, I know), depression, which for a 6 yr.old is beyond sad. After much thought and prayer, we decided on a risky treatment of Cyclosporine (an anti-rejection medication used by transplant recipients) to help suppress his immune system just enough to trick his body into NOT reacting to every little thing in his environment. The result, so far, is awesome! His skin is absolutely beautiful! He's back to his old hyper self. As he's running, screaming through the house, nearly smacking his baby sister upside the head with his new Indiana Jones whip (thanks Grandma and PawPaw), I have to stop before getting on to him and thank God that he is able to do this....to play....to run...to have joy again. What a blessing!

On another note....if ever in public, and you see a child with a rash or sores, please resist the urge to yell out, "Hey, is that eczema?" or "Does he have chicken pox?" or "What's wrong with him?" I know you may not mean to be rude, but consider the child you're referring to. Although he may act as if he doesn't, he CAN hear you, and he is SICK of being made to feel DIFFERENT or as if his entire existence is centered around this frustrating skin disease. Don't worry...trust me...if it was contagious or the PLAGUE, I wouldn't have him in public.

If snot was gold, we'd be RICH!

2009-01-12T06:00:00.000-08:00

Bulb syringe?
check

Saline nose drops?
check

Kleenexes?
check

Prepared to use the above supplies every thirty minutes or so?
check

This has been our life for the past week. Delaney has RSV....a terrible virus that basically makes the baby drown in mucus....terrifying and gross, but true. We've had some scary moments, and Delaney even spent the entire weekend in the hospital. Thankfully we're home. I just wish snot was gold! If it were, we'd be rich!

Blog Confessions and Other Observations

2009-01-06T04:32:00.000-08:00

It's been a LONG time since I actually added anything to my blog. The sad thing is, I've had nothing very interesting to add. I must confess, I'm more of a reader than a writer. Blogs I enjoy reading are Salyards Blaaaugh (a friend from school), The Bloggen Ogden (that friend's sister...whom I don't even know, but she just adopted a newborn little baby and I love reading about their adventures), and That's What She Said (written by someone I met through the writer of Salyards Blaaugh....I know her a little bit, but TOTALLY LOVE to anonymously read her blog).

Now that I've gotten that confession off of my chest, I must comment on the above picture. Isn't she adorable!?!? My little baby Delaney is such a doll, and since she is DEFINITELY my last, I tend to appreciate her baby-ness all that much more....taking really huge sniffs of her clean, freshly washed head after baths, not minding when I get spit-up or slobber on me, relishing the quiet little moments when I'm nursing her and she just stares so intently into my eyes. Even her cries are not the least bit annoying. I find myself saying, "Ah, listen to that sweet sound!" Seriously.....I know that may sound nuts, but I know this is it...my last baby. Boy, isn't she something else?!?! So again, look at that cute New Year's Baby.

Baby Delaney is HERE!

2008-10-01T11:12:00.000-07:00

Well, it's official....we now have three kids! I can't believe it! Delaney and I came home from the hospital on Monday. She is an awesome little baby....so easy...so beautiful....so sweet! Her big brother and big sister are in total love!

Never say you're bored!

2008-09-19T03:55:00.000-07:00

For those of you that don't know (and I know there's a lot of you out there who peek into my blog, but REFUSE to start one of your own....come on, people, it's therapeutic!), I have been "ordered" off of work until after my maternity leave. The doc never declared it bed rest, but I am supposed to be resting as much as possible.

Anyway, this pseudo-bedrest is for the birds! I mean, don't get me wrong, it is nice to take a nap if I feel like it, to lounge around in my HUGE mumu gown all day long (until I have to pick up the kids from school). There are definitely perks if you enjoy the sloth lifestyle, but I am SO BORED, and I mistakenly declared that to some people the other day.

Well, the very next day (yesterday, in fact) the boredom ceased! As I was resting on the couch in my big gown, my feet propped up on an ottoman, a huge glass of ice water nestled nearby, with thoughts of a nice nap flitting through my relaxed brain, I get a phone call from school. I see the caller ID and think to myself.....it's either....A) my teaching partner asking me a question about where something is B) my long-term sub asking me a question OR C)the office asking me a question. However, on the other end of the line is Savannah's 3rd grade teacher, who Savannah has already declared "so cool!"

Ms. Cool Teacher calmly reports that Savannah has ran into a pole at recess. Well, with my warped sense of humor, my immediate reaction is to kind of laugh to myself. I think I may have even chuckled into the phone. But then Ms. Cool reports that Savannah has actually chipped her front tooth. OK...for me, that suddenly was NOT funny.

Her front tooth....the big giant one that almost protrudes from her head as most 3rd graders' do. Suddenly, flashes of my relaxed, or BORED, day suddenly escape my brain. I'm focused on daughter #1, not daughter #2 nestled comfortably (for her, not me) in my womb. I rush up there, and sure enough, she has chipped it good. I am relieved, I must say, that after hearing her side of the story, I realized she didn't just run and smack into a pole. That thought was comforting. I knew my beautiful daughter, with her long coltish legs, was not the most graceful thing in the world, but the idea of her idiotically plunging into a pole on the blacktop was a tad bit disturbing to me, so I was relieved to hear that she and a bunch of friends were kind of spinning on it when they got tangled up, and then she smacked into the pole.

Anyhoo, we got her to the dentist within an hour or two. They took x-rays and fixed her tooth all up by bonding it. It looks almost as good as new. The best part for her was that she was hooked up to some laughing gas. She had a big smile on her face during the entire procedure.

I hate that her permanent tooth in her beautiful smile is slightly damaged. I love the fact that they were able to pretty much fix it. I also am grateful that Ms. Cool Teacher called me to give me a heads-up on the whole matter. Oh yeah, Ms. Cool Teacher had also burned a kids' Beatle CD for my little coltish one just yesterday morning before the BIG BANG, so she was able to chill out on the way to the the dentist.

Anyway, I will no longer say that I am bored. OR if I do, I will quietly whisper it to myself, so the powers of the world do not hear me and decide to mock me.

Nesting

2008-09-07T10:04:00.001-07:00

So my husband just informed me that I need to chill and quit freaking out. Apparently, all of this cleaning, which, I admit, is a little bit out of character for my normal personality, is a little bit overboard. Here's what I've done since Friday (today is Sunday): stayed at school till 8:30 Friday night getting my lesson plans in order all the way till November something; Saturday I insisted husband do massive yard work because we can't bring a baby home with a disgusting yard; while husband yard-worked, I was inside organizing everything...washing all of the baby's stuff, making a Good-Will pile of stuff we don't need, etc.; today (Sunday), I got up and spent nearly three hours cleaning my Tahoe. Oh, I also packed up my hospital bag.

I must admit that now I feel like I can "peacefully" go into labor and not stress about other things. Ahhhhh....I feel so much better. :-)

"Max"ism

2008-09-03T14:48:00.001-07:00

OK...so I feel kind of guilty about going on and on about my little man, Max, instead of posting something wonderful about his big sis, but he's five years old and boy, five year olds have a lot of interesting things to say about their world.

Today, while walking down the hall at school, Max's class line and my class line came upon each other. Max, of course, had to have a hug, and I, of course, couldn't resist (although I did tell him he needed to stay in line....he doesn't get it....see Mom....hug Mom). Anyhoo, a moment later I saw his wonderful kindergarten teacher cracking up laughing...tears in her eyes. Apparently, as soon as Max left the loving embrace of his mother, he felt compelled to explain the freakishly LARGE stomach his mother is sportin', "My mommy looks that way, because there's a baby in there!"

Surely after that explanation, his friends couldn't judge him or me as harshly as they were BEFORE he explained my predicament. Boy, I love that kid! :-)

First Day of School

2008-08-26T04:23:00.000-07:00

Well, the family survived the first day of school, and although Max did have a few tears, he did enjoy it. Apparently, Max is worried that he "will not do very well at this school of yours, Mommy, because the teacher has to say my name alot." :-) I assured him that the first day of school is all about learning 'how' to do school and that he shouldn't worry too much....just enjoy it (but try your best).

One of the greatest perks of having both Max and Savannah in school now is that bedtime was a breeze.....they actually requested bedtime before I had a chance to mention it. They curled up in their blankets and were OUT in no time flat. YAY! :-)

deodoRANT

2008-08-22T18:06:00.000-07:00

OK.....so I think I've mentioned I'm about to POP...well, actually I have a few more weeks, but feel like it's any day now. Well people, this does all kinds of terribly gross sweaty things to me. It's HOT people! I said HOT! Now I know I'm walking around with the equivalent of a 1st grader attached to my body (thank goodness I will NOT be birthin' that!). I do have quite a bit of extra padding, so I know it makes me way hotter than others, but COME ON!

Here's my issue....it's not that I'm huge. It's not really that I'm sweaty or hot. It's this.....if a deodorant states that it's an INVISIBLE solid deodorant, then I expect to be able to slather that stuff all up and down my pits and not have to worry about the "invisible" deodorant showing up white all over my black sleeveless shirt! Is that too much to ask?!?!

So there you go.....there's my deodoRANT!

I'm so proud of my boy!

2008-08-21T19:46:00.000-07:00

Well, this is my first post on my first personal blog. YAY me! But this isn't about me right now...it's about my little boy...my little man....my little sweetheart.

Max starts kindergarten in just a few days. I'm so excited for him. I can't believe he's that old. I can't believe 5 years have already gone by. I'm so afraid he'll be scared or nervous or cry on that first day when his daddy walks out that classroom door. I'm already emotional enough....ready to POP out baby #3 and my hormones are wreaking havoc.

Well, as the first day approaches my nervousness is growing. I am scared about the usual things a mom would be nervous about, but mainly it causes me to reflect on Max and all he's been through and continues to go through. No matter what his daddy and I do to try to help him, our little boy suffers almost daily in his life. Can you imagine being itchy all over your body ALL OF THE TIME?!?! I can't even stand if a stinkin' mosquito happens to bite my big toe. The itching drives me bananas. I gripe and complain and whine about that one little bump. Max feels like that over his entire body alot of the time. What would you do if that was you? Well, Max does nothing or complains....he just scratches. Sometimes blood will be oozing down his arm, all focus and concentration set upon getting that one hotspot that's driving him bonkers. Cousins get "annoyed" with him when he's constantly scratching (they can't/don't understand that he can't help it). People look at him when we're out in public and constantly make comments to me in front of him......"Does he have chicken pox?" "What's wrong with your boy?" "Does he have poison ivy?"

The other day in Target, when his skin was especially bad, at least 4 people made comments (I know they weren't trying to be rude) to me in front of Max while we were shopping for his school supplies. Finally, after the 3rd comment, he just hung his head down, quietly looking down at the floor. He says nothing to me. I say nothing to him. I can tell he's bothered by being "different". "What's wrong, buddy?" I finally ask him. "Nothing, Mommy," he answers back. Tears build up in my eyes (remember, I said I was a hormonal wreck), but we move on with our shopping, just like Max moves on with life, day after day, hour after hour.

This scratchy, itchy, irritated life is all he's EVER known.....been like that since he was born.....has just gotten worse as he's gotten older. He knows no differently, which I think is a blessing. He has no comparison to this irritation he always feels. But still, I've heard him praying, "God, please make my skin go away." OR he asks why God gave him eczema....why no one else has it. He's not complaining, he just really is curious as to why. I wish I knew 'why'. I wish I knew how to take it away, but I don't.

He's a tough boy, my handsome little man is. I admire him so much. When I start to complain about feeling bloated or HUGE or having swollen feet, I feel so pitiful, because I think of my little boy and all that he goes through and we never hear him complain. And despite what he feels physically, he is the most loving, thoughtful, compassionate child I have ever known. He tells me I'm the "most beautifullest mommy ever," and gives his baby sister kisses through my belly every day. He even looks at his big sister and declares, "Sissy, you're so pretty. I love you." (Sadly, this usually falls on deaf "I'm-too-cool-for-my-little-brother" ears, although I can tell that secretly she enjoys the adoration and attention from her little bro.) Max's heart is so full of love!

So here's my prayer for Max: that God can heal him, can bring him physical peace, that no one at school will judge him because his skin looks different, that all of his future little kindergarten friends can look past the red, rashy skin, and see those beautiful, cheerfully squinting, sparkly blue eyes, and see that adorable grin, and see the wonderful heart that my boy has inside of his soul.