Foot Loose and Tonsil Free

Our 4 year old son has his tonsils out yesterday and it has been a rough 38 hours since. The procedure itself went fine, but he came out of anesthesia fighting mad. They rushed out to the waiting room to get me (I would have preferred they came and got me first and then woke him up, which likely would have prevented the events that followed from occurring).

Anyway, when I walked back there he was swinging at the nurse, SCREAMING at her, completely incoherent. He was wild-eyed, scared, and in pain. It broke my heart. I ran to him, scooped him up, and laid down in the bed with him. He went right to sleep.

Then they woke him up to try to get him to drink or eat a popsicle, both of which he refused. He then also tried to rip his IV's out. The nurses finally gave up and removed them for him.

He vomited on the ride home, all over himself, the car, and the Albertson's parking lot.

Poor kid.

Thankfully he slept on and off for most of the day. He woke up rather frequently to vomit. After the 8th time in as many hours I called the office, where I got a medical-assistant who informed me that it is "normal" to vomit every hour for up to 48 hours. Whaaaat???? I'm not a doctor, but if the number one concern after surgery is dehydration then it seems to me that throwing up 48 time sin 48 hours would be a bit of a problem.

Last night was pretty miserable. I got a total 1 hour of sleep because his fever rose up to 103, he continued to vomit throughout the night, and he was pretty much just miserable. At 3 am we came downstairs and watched cartoons until 9 when he finally fell asleep for an hour.

The on-call surgeon I called at 7 this morning told me he wouldn't call in an anti-nausea medication, but I should instead take him to the emergency room, where they could both hydrate and medicate him. I wanted to be able to control the vomiting at home in the hopes that he would then start to be able to keep down what he attempted to drink. Long story short, the nurse from the surgery center ended up relaying my frustration to our actual doctor who finally at 2:30 called in a prescription for anti-nausea meds which I promptly gave him He then slept for the next 4 hours. Since he's been given two doses he has not vomited once and has even been able to take three bites of an icee.

He is not consuming anywhere near the amount of liquids he needs too and if his fever doesn't stay under control we will likely end up in the hospital anyway, but I am working my ass off trying to avoid that.

I just really hope having these tonsils out makes a difference for him. I asked the surgeon to save the tonsils so I could see them. They were pretty bad. Huge, cryptic, pockets of bacteria. It made me feel better about subjecting him to such misery.

All in all, having your tonsils and adenoids removed is quite the ordeal.

My son is loud, rowdy, and rambunctious. I am constantly telling him to quiet down or calm down. Right now I would kill for that loud, rowdy, rambunctious boy to be running through our house. This listless, miserable, upset child breaks my heart.

Kindergarten Redshirt Year

All of my kids have summer birthdays and in Arizona meet the age cutoff (must be 5 by Sept 1 or else they have to wait until the following year to start) to start school right after they turn 5. However, by doing that they are young for their grade. Our daughter who has a July birthday started school in August after just having turned 5. She went to school with kids who were already 6 and kids who would turn 6 a few months in. She was the second youngest in the class with a little boy turning 6 a few days after she did. I didn't worry about sending her because she was more than ready both academically and socially. She thrived in school and had a wonderful year. I expect her 1st grade experience to be more of the same.

Our son just turned 4 at the very end of May. He is slated to start Kindergarten in August 2012, so next school year. I have recently been having discussions with my husband about "redshirting" him and waiting to start him until August 2013 instead, so he would start school having just turned 6. My reasons for doing this are many but primarily while I have no doubt he is likely ready academically I do worry about him socially in the sense that I feel schools are set up for how girls learn. They are not necessarily conducive to what is best for young boys. I don't know that he could sit still for 20 minutes and listen or work on an activity and I don't know if in a year from now, when he is able to start, he'll be ready then either. He's a well-behaved but highly active boy and I don't want him "beaten into submission" at school if giving him an extra year can harness and tame some of that energy naturally. There is a ton of research to back up that boys who wait a year and start a bit older tend to do better in school long-term. There is also the whole NFL Hockey thing where statistically NFL Hockey players tended to be older for their grade in elementary school. The theory goes that they are more physically developed than some of their peers, thereby becoming the better players in high school and college. There are also cons which we are well versed in too.

I've started mentioning my dilemma to a few friends only to find out that many of them are struggling with the same decision and for many of the same reasons I have mentioned. I go back and forth but I keep coming back to the fact that I have never once heard a parent say, "I wish I wouldn't have held my son back that year." However, I have heard many, my mother included, say, "I wish I would have held my son back and given him an extra year to mature a bit."

I am curious if you have any experience with this? Did you hold your son back? Do you wish you did? Were you intentionally held back?

Catch Up

Things have been nuts here. My 5 year old daughter had strep throat, then our 8 month old daughter became very ill and ended up in the hospital. Turns out she had a bacteria infection in her blood. No one knows how she got it. She is fine now, thank God. Then I injured my back pretty badly and ended up in Urgent Care after trying to suffer through the pain for days, where they gave me an injection of a powerful anti-inflammatory that I had a VERY adverse reaction to. They also send me home with a million prescriptions for a ton of meds that knocked me out entirely. I'm still pretty much out of commission but am finally able to actually walk a bit. So, it's been all bunnies and rainbows here in our neck of the woods.

In better news my husband and I will have a first grader in 2 days. Typing that seems so weird. I was so worried about sending her off to Kindergarten. I fretted for a year in advance. Turns out it was all for nothing. Her teacher is wonderful and watching our daughter come into her own was a beautiful thing to witness. She is sad about leaving her beloved teacher but also excited to be a first grader. Definitely bittersweet.

Our son will turn 4 next week. How that is even possible is beyond me. He will always be my baby. I love seeing the boy he is becoming. So sweet, kind, and sensitive and fiercely protective of his baby sister. Since those two are home with me during the day they have become very close and it makes me so happy to see how much our baby adores her big brother and how much he cares for her. It's a beautiful thing.

So, what has been consuming your days as of late?

It's a Lifestyle

My kids caught the end of iCarly the other day and apparently there was some exchange of dialogue where one character says, "It's just a stupid game" and the next character says, "It's not a game, it's a lifestyle." Well, our 3 year old son has now applied that phrase to EVERYTHING. Anything he is playing is now "not a game, it's a lifestyle."

He was playing with his superheroes the other day and I asked him what game he was playing with them. He looks at me very seriously and says, "Mom, it's not a game. It's a lifestyle."

Riiiight.

Wanted: A Baby Sister

Our son adores his older sister. He hangs on her every word, does whatever he can to please her, and pretty much worships her existence. To say he loves her simply wouldn't adequately explain his feelings for her.

As a result of this, he is insistent that this new baby be a girl (he has yet to fully understand that I have little control over this). He repeatedly says, "I really, really want a baby sister" followed by, "I don't want a brother. No more boys is this house." I, on the other hand, secretly am pining for another son, although either would be a joyous, welcomed addition. Part of me now though really wants to have another girl just for his sake. The thought of him taking care of and fawning over a baby sister melts my heart and while I know he'll be a terrific big brother regardless, there is something incredibly sweet about the thought of him with his baby sister.

Not to mention it is the cutest thing in the entire world to hear him say the name we've chosen if this baby is a girl.

Venus and Mars

Some of the behaviors I love most about my son are also some of the same things that drive me crazy. He is such a free spirit and while I admire the independence the stubborn streak and at times just outward defiance is frustrating and embarrassing.

He is one of the sweetest, most sensitive and affectionate little boys. He tells me fifty times a day how much he loves me. If I leave the room, when I come back he tells me how much he missed me. He's full of hugs and kisses and he's like this way with his sister, his father, his grandparents, and his "favorite" cousin. I love this about him and can't get enough.

So, it's amazing how this same little boy can be filled with such a mischievous streak (and that's putting it nicely). It's not that he's mean-spirited at all. He just pushes the envelop as far as he can and truthfully consequences mean nothing to him. It's almost as if he weighs the options in his head before he does it and then does it anyway. I swear he's thinking, "I know if I hit my sister and then run away from my mom I am going to get in trouble, but it's worth it to know I upset my sister and my mom." Or, "I know my mom is going to be upset if I run away and hide from her in the store, but it's funny to see her panic thinking she lost me, so I'm going to do it anyway." The thing is that a lot of the behavior is not discipline-worthy, just frustrating. Example: trying on shoes and trying to make sure they fit and instead he puts the shoebox on his head and takes off dancing down the aisle saying, "The box is my hat."

I love that he's funny and can make anyone laugh and I love that he knows that he is funny. He performs for the reaction. But at the same time I am graying by the minute. He's a wonderful child and in truth, I'd take ten more just like him but he is such a boy and I mean that in the best possible way. I love having a daughter and I love having a son. I love them the same amount, but it's a different relationship with each. There are things that are specific to them that need nurturing and attention and boys and girls are just, by nature, so incredibly and wonderfully different. Nothing points that out more clearly than healthy, hyper little boys.

I want my son to be kind, compassionate, sensitive, caring and attentive. Those are qualities that I feel will one day make him a great husband and father. But I also want my son to be manly, rugged, rough, independent, and self-reliant. There's a tendency in our society to squash some of that natural beauty that is inherent in boys. You see it in school systems especially. They, at times, try to make boys into girls ( I mean that in a behavioral sense in that girls statistically have a longer attention span, are not as physical, etc.). So, I try to walk a fine line between disciplining him for inappropriate behavior but also letting him bask in his natural maleness (as I refer to it and as my husband mocks me for). Sometimes I get it wrong and let him bask when he should be disciplined and vice versa, but it's a learning process.

What were some of your children's most frustrating qualities or behaviors that also happened to be some of their most admirable?

Curly Locks of Love

Just before my son turned two (he's now 2 1/2) he had his first haircut. It was a bit unruly and they gave him such a cute, little man hair cut that I loved. However, I was also devastated as his curls fell to the floor. Right then and there I swore to never, ever cut his hair again. His curls grew back and the unruliness returned as well. I've trimmed it a couple of times just so he doesn't look like a hobo all the while keeping the length and general shaggy look.

This morning he woke up looking like Einstein and I realized that it might be time to officially cut his hair. So with each painful snip of the scissors and buzz of the clippers I winced as his locks fell to the bathroom floor. He was such a trooper and he looks so handsome with a "little man" haircut, but part of me is sick inside for once again cutting his curls after I swore I wouldn't.

I assume, like last time, the curls and unruliness will return and I'll suffer this same internal struggle all over again. For now, I'll just spend the rest of the day gushing about how cute he looks.

Man Parts

My son has figured out how to pull his "man parts" out of his fly on his underwear. My daughter is equally impressed and duly proud of his accomplishment. My father, who was in town this weekend, came by to see the kids. Apparently, when they were upstairs my daughter explained to my dad that her brother can pull his penis out of his fly. She continued by saying, "But my daddy can't pull his out of his underwear."

I guess the fact that my husband keeps his privates private is a good thing or else we'd have my daughter running around telling everyone that he pulls his penis out of his underwear.

Pneumonia Boy

My son is currently suffering through his third round of pneumonia in his two short years of life. We spent Wednesday night in Urgent Care after his breathing had become labored and the sounds his lungs were making were not from this planet. Two hours, three chest x-rays, an exam and breathing treatment later we were told he had pneumonia.......again.

Both kids have been sick for almost three weeks now with colds. My daughter is finally on the mend, yet like always a simple cold turns into a serious respiratory complication with my son. I called the doctor Friday who told me to just keep giving him nebulizer treatments at home and that should help clear it up. Against my better judgment I did not take him to Urgent Care over the weekend. By Sunday he seemed to be getting better until Wednesday morning when he totally relapsed. I do this every time. Play the waiting game in my head. Should I take him? What if it's nothing? Then I've wasted time and money, plus exposed him to whatever germs are floating around in the hospital. But what if it's something? And he's just getting worse? The times I don't take him right away and wait are the times he ends up with pneumonia, RSV, Bronchitis, etc. The times I take him right away are the times it is "nothing." I can't win.

So, it looks like we will be spending another week or so cooped up in the house. Then this past week I caught what the kids have had. I feel horrible. The worst part is the exhaustion and constant headache. This afternoon I had my grandmother come over to keep my daughter entertained. I then took a shot of whiskey and took a nap. I woke up an hour later in a puddle of sweat just dripping. Fever broke. So, I'm hoping I will start feeling better soon. As I type this, still not feeling better.

Here's my question/concern/dilemma......Everyone says this is going to be a nasty flu season (and by everyone I mean the reputable people I have spoken to...pediatricians, hospital doctors, friends in the health care field, etc....not the mass hysteria splashed all over the news....although they may be right). Even just taking away the risk of H1N1, the regular flu poses a great risk for my son because of these respiratory issues. I was told last night that the more I could keep him away from group setting, etc. the better. Because I stay home with the kids, this isn't impossible. I don't have him in pre-school or day care of anything like that. However, I do like to leave my house yet sadly every time I do the poor kid ends up hospitalized or close to it. I put my gym membership on hold yesterday for 3 months to wait out the "flu season" since both kids go to a child care facility there. May be extreme, but it's a sacrifice I am willing to make right now. I can work out at home if it will mean my son isn't getting constantly sick. However, I do have to go to church, to the grocery store, see other human beings, take my daughter to dance, go to doctor's appointments, essentially function as a social being in a world that is inhabited by other people....people with germs.

Needless to say these past few weeks have been crazy. The house is a wreck, dishes need to be done, clothes need to be washed, folded, and put away, kids rooms need to be cleaned. Honestly, I don't care though....which is saying a lot, because usually I am rather militant about having things picked up in my house the SECOND someone is done using or playing with it. I have neither the energy nor the inclination to play housekeeper right now. I guess I am more concerned that my son can breathe and in the process of taking care of him I don't keel over dead. :) Oh yeah, I could use a shower too. It's been about three days.

So, how are you all feeling? Worried about the flu season?

On the Prowl

My son has an obsession, like most typical boys, with things like dinosaurs, cars, trains, trucks, and motorcycles. To say he likes these things is an understatement. He goes nuts over them, insisting that I follow them. The most recent interest is with trash trucks and motorcycles. Anytime we see one, which is surprisingly quite a bit, he insists I follow until we can get close enough for him to get a good look. I'm becoming very friendly with our neighborhood garbage man. I would not be surprised if he takes out a restraining order.

Recently, we have had the good fortune of ending up at many stop lights right next to motorcycles. The odds of this happening with such frequency would seemingly be against us. Each time I find myself rolling down my son's back window so he can get a closer look. I then feel compelled to roll down either my window or the passenger window and yell at the top of my lungs so I can be heard over the engine, "My son likes your bike" at which point each biker revs his engine, much to my son's delight.

I think I might be getting a reputation around town though as the lady who uses her kids to try to pick up bikers. "Suuuuuure, your son likes my bike lady."

Jaws

My son has found a new way to deal with his frustrations and unfortunately that has manifested itself in him acting like he's a shark and attacking his poor sister and biting the crap out of her arms, legs, toes, essentially anything he can sink his teeth into.

It is always after she has been teasing or picking on him, so it is not like it is completely out of the blue. However, regardless of the situation I'd rather not encourage or at all give him the impression that trying to rip his sister's flesh off is okay.

In the past couple of days he has bit her three times. Once on her toe and twice on her arm. These pictures don't really do it justice. One of the bites was so hard that I literally had to pry his jaw open to pull him off her. He would not let go and as a result he broke skin and left a pretty nasty bruise.

So, any suggestions on how to curb and hopefully eliminate the biting? I'm thinking about getting a punching bag for him to let out some of this aggression.

And This is Why People Stop Having Kids

My husband had to work a few hours Saturday morning and I needed to get some errands taken care of. Against my better judgment I decided to not wait until he got home and just take the kids to the mall myself. I wanted to look in three stores for a couple of dresses for my daughter. It should not have been a very long trip.

Now, I don't mean to bag on my son. He's really a wonderful kid. But he's two and he's a boy and all he wants to do is run around, hide, and be loud. Shopping with him is something I dread, but considering my husband works ALL THE TIME I end up shopping with him 99.9 percent of the time. If I waited to shop until my husband was home I would never go shopping.

I gave up long ago on a stroller because my son would Houdini himself out or else throw himself violently from side to side until the stroller tipped. It became more hassle than if I just carried him or let him walk next to me. So, as I am looking through the racks today he starts wandering off. I try to hold him and he dives out of my arms, flailing. Then he starts hiding in the racks which, in a crowded mall, makes me a little panicked. He was just non-stop. He then takes clothes off the racks, even managed to rip a few tags off the clothes, and was just into everything. I was about to come unglued.

The thing is, to everyone else, things probably looked fine. He wasn't being loud or running wildly throughout the store. He wasn't being a nuisance to anyone else but me. Still I was frustrated and really couldn't look through the racks I needed to look through. After about 30 minutes (probably even less) I just gave up and took them to the play area.

When my husband came home I left the kids with him and returned alone to finish what I had started earlier. It was then that two kids, left pretty unattended by their mother, were SPRINTING throughout the store, yelling at the top of their lungs, hiding in the clothes and pulling them down on top of themselves as they lay on the floor. Just out of control wild. And they were around seven, eight, or nine years of age. Way too old to act like that. As much work as my two year old was this morning, his behavior paled in comparison.

It was at that point I realized things were not as bad as they seemed. I also realized that I am a much better parent than I oftentimes give myself credit for.

Super Bug that's Super Freaky

Almost a year ago my son developed really chapped lips along half of his bottom lip. The lip cracked in multiple places and then crusted over and spread down toward his chin. It looked awful and painful. We took him to the doctor where they started treating it just with aquafor, which did nothing. They then suspected impetigo and treated him for that, then a yeast infection, and after months of different treatment options we were referred to a dermatologist who put him on a steroid cream for two weeks. It cleared up the symptoms for the most part, yet returned within three days of stopping the cream. She put him back on the cream, which this time did nothing.

So, we go back to the doctor tomorrow as they are now suspicious that he may have MRSA (a bacterial super bug). They'll take a culture and we'll know for sure. At this point I just want to know what the heck it is and what treatment options will actually correct and fix the problem and not merely mask the symptoms. There has been talk of putting him on antibiotics for 40 days if it is in fact MRSA, which makes me nervous. He's been on antibiotics twice for pneumonia and both times it tore his stomach up. I try to avoid antibiotics at all cost so they don't build up an immunity (like declining it for ear infections that can clear on their own), but I know at this point he needs something and while I appreciate the doctors erring on the side of caution in his treatment, it seems like after 11 months of dealing with this they'd give him whatever it took to kill whatever he has.

I am tempted to just say, "I know you don't know what it is so just treat him for EVERYTHING you think it COULD be and hopefully one of your guesses will be right."

My Birthday Boy

Today my son turns two. To think that two years have passed since he has been a part of our lives seems almost unbelievable. I can't imagine an existence without him as a part of it. He has brought immeasurable joy to an already joyful life and everyday I thank God for bringing him safely into this world. There are days that he is utterly exhausting. There are days when his determination to do everything by himself make me want to scream because everything takes four times as long. There are days when I am convinced that he really will be the death of me. There are days when his habit of being constantly underfoot make me want to escape. However, those days are greatly outnumbered by the days where I share in the joys of his discoveries. They are outnumbered by the days when I see him being kind, caring, and empathetic to other children. They are outnumbered by the days when he wants nothing more than to be held and cuddled by his mommy. Those days are numbered and it is at those times when I am reminded that I better appreciate this now, all of this, because soon they will be gone, changed, evolved.

I have special bonds with both of my children. These bonds start in the womb and strengthen as a result of each experience. With both children there were issues with the pregnancies that solidified my bond with each. With my son I started bleeding heavily early on. I had two doctors (neither of which were my normal ob/gyn who was out of town at the time) tell me that 1) I had already miscarried and 2) that a miscarriage was inevitable. I was obviously devastated, but a larger part of me knew, just knew, that the baby was going to make it. That's not to say that the next few months were easy. They weren't; I worried constantly. I had blood drawn twice a week for six weeks. However, I had a strong feeling that it would somehow work out in the end. After every blood test the results would confirm that the baby was still growing. Because my pregnancy with him was so tumultuous it was like we had been to battle together and both made it out alive. To say I was relieved when he was born healthy is an incredible understatement.

So, while today he may be turning two he still is and I am sure always will be, my baby. Each birthday is bittersweet. It is wonderful to see your children growing up, maturing, becoming this person they were meant to be. However, it is also a bit sad as you have now moved past a portion of their lives that you won't get back.

So, to my son on his second birthday I say that your mommy loves you very, very much and I will never let you doubt, question, or forget that because that is what mommies do.