Precious Memories, How They Linger.....

...and stinky memories, how they fade.  Thank goodness for that!  Sleep has been a pretty elusive subject around here lately.  What....the past 4 years or so?  A friend reminded me once that sleep deprivation is a torture treatment so when I'm at my wit's end, I try to remember that.  Some time ago I joked that my death certificate would surely read, "Time of Death:  Bedtime".  Ugh!

I know, I know.  One day these kids will be teenagers, and I won't be able to wake them before noon.  And it's all going to happen so fast.  I know that.  I've seen the time flying already.  I'm writing this post for a couple of reasons.  One reason is that I'm sure every stage of parenting is just like the first:  labor and childbirth.  Just as women forget the pains of childbirth, I think people must forget the pains of every stage.  I can barely remember what it was like to have a newborn in the house.  Barely.  And I'm only 18 months out.  So, one day I know I won't really remember what it was like to have a preschooler and a toddler in the house.  I won't remember the tears (theirs and mine) because no one can figure out why no one can sleep.  I won't remember all the things I tried to bring on sleep (theirs and mine).  I won't remember all the things I thought of doing to bring on sleep (mainly theirs).

The second reason is to remind myself that people actually are sleeping.  Maybe not as much as I'd like, but we're getting enough to get by.  You know, sometimes when you're in the middle of something, everything seems so extreme.

Here's proof that people are sleeping.

An early bedtime.  Both asleep by 5 pm.

One day I decided JayBird might fall asleep more easily in the evening if I eliminated his mid-day nap.  See how that worked out?

Nap Elimination Day 1:  Fail.

When they awaken in the evenings, The Papa and I have to really watch one another to be sure we aren't being "too exciting".  Why are they so fun, and why are they so sweet when they're supposed to be sleeping?

This was around 9:30 one night after he'd already been asleep, then awake.  That's a fairly well-played movie around here.

Nap time.  Guess who.

I'm pretty sure if I hadn't written this post, I would look back in 30 years and think this must have been what it was like to have two little kids in the house.  It kind of is, if you don't blink.

Sleeping in heavenly peace.

Picnic in the Park(ing Garage)

Saturday was perfect.  The temperature outside was cool, and there was a wonderful breeze.  It was a great day for a picnic except for the fact that it was raining.  The Papa thought our current book selection was a little "weak" and wanted to go to the library to get some "more interesting" books.  He also wanted to get some exercise for the dog so it was his idea to have a picnic in the parking garage.  We drove almost to the very top where there were no cars, staked our claim, and had a great time.

The dog and the children ran and ran and ran.

In case you're wondering what's on KayKay's head, it's a pair of pants.  Duh.  And, I happened to capture a rare moment when JayBird was off the ground.

We ate our lunch, and then we took the elevator down to the library.  The Papa thought we should take the stairs, and I just chalked the idea of descending six flights of stairs with a one-year-old to the fact that he works full-time.  Nevertheless, a picnic in the parking garage was a wonderful idea, and I have a feeling we'll be doing it more often!

Every playground should have such a sophisticated child-containment system as this.

Another JayBird in the Chair

Remember this picture of Kay Kay in her great-great grandmother's chair?

22 months old

I recently snapped this one.  I titled this "Another JayBird...." because the original Mr. Priest was also called "JayBird" from time to time.

13 months old.  "Rock, rock, rock!"

While we were there, I also got a shot of the two Caraways studying birds.

Two sweet girls.

Scared Strep-less

Well, not really.  Here's what happened.  The children and I went to spend a Friday night with The Nana.  Kay Kay slept with her, but The Nana brought her into the room where JayBird and I were sleeping around 6:00 Saturday morning.  She was crying a little, and as soon as I touched her I knew she was feverish.  Hot, even.  (Ever since the double ear infection episode, I've learned to refer to fever as "a little warm", "hot", or "really hot".)  I say she was "hot".  In my mind, I would guess around 101 degrees.  When I was able to get out of bed without waking JayBird, I found the two of them just rocking.

Kay Kay ate a light breakfast that morning, but not light enough to be worrisome.  She was fully awake by that point, and we decided to try to keep her resting by letting her watch television.  The only thing she could tell me didn't feel "right" was the area around her eyes and nose.  And she mentioned her throat hurt.  While I did consider what she told me, I didn't put much stock in it because she hadn't complained about anything.  And, I think children are like little humans in that if they go looking for something, they're likely to find it.  (Or should I say like little pediatricians?)  I scurried to the drugstore to see what immune-boosting products they might have.  I felt like I had won the lottery by finding a homeopathic combination remedy for allergies and a bottle of elderberry syrup.

These photos are totally unrelated to this blog post, but apparently I didn't take any pictures of "sick" Kay Kay.

By about noon that day, she seemed pretty normal.  If she had any fever, it was very little.  She wanted to go outside and play so we did.  She was riding a battery-operated toy, and I showed her how to move the lever up and down to switch from forward to reverse.  I went inside to put away the lunch dishes, and I heard her crying outside.  When she came in, she showed me her right middle finger.  It had gotten caught between the lever and the seat of the toy and was scraped as she pulled it out.  It was bleeding a little.  I asked her what had happened to her pointer finger, but she just kept telling me about her middle finger getting stuck.  The Nana warned me to watch out if she ever got "really hurt" because of the way she was carrying on about that scrape.

I knew that was completely out of character, and I continued to be concerned about the red, swollen right pointer finger.  We went home right after dinner and slept pretty well that night.  The next morning, I noticed that the pointer finger was still red, hot, and swollen, and now so was her left foot.  Red, hot, and swollen.  Also, I noticed a slight rash over most of her body but especially near the creases.  The swollen appendages were really concerning me now so I decided to take her to the pediatrician.  Trust me when I say this was not an easy decision.  Kay Kay's seen an allopathic physician three times now in her three and a half years.  Once when she was eight weeks old to reassure some family members she was "okay", once when she was fourteen months old with a double ear infection, and now this.

Well, I did say "allergies", and here are azaleas in the background.  Notice JayBird always has one foot in the air.

The doctor informed us that the rash was very typical strep onset scarlet fever.  Swollen appendages and all.  He did a throat swab and confirmed that the strep bacteria was present.  He wrote a prescription for amoxicillin and wanted her fever gone by the next morning.  I'm only a fan of antibiotics when they're really needed so obviously I asked for an alternative.  Imagine my dismay when he told me there aren't any, but that amoxicillin is like a wonder drug because it targets very specifically.  I did believe it when he told me that.  I believe it targets bacteria.  Bad bacteria and good bacteria.  All bacteria.  No mention of probiotics or side effects.

Since the nurse documented her temperature at 98.9 degrees, I considered my first mission accomplished:  eliminating the fever by the next morning.  I can't imagine anyone who would consider 98.9 degrees a fever.  So what I knew is that I had a child who didn't look sick or act sick, and I wasn't about to attack her obviously well-functioning immune system.  I knew she did have strep so I felt like I had to get busy to figure out how to beat it.  I did what any rational parent does:  I put out a call for "strep veterans" on Facebook.  I needed to hear from people who had beaten it without antibiotics.  As I knew they would, they came through for me.  I talked to my Shaklee friend who was able to get some of my "natural antibiotic" stash replenished that day.

Sometimes these are the "good sides".

Later that afternoon, I noticed a little white pustule forming just above her left pinky toe.  She asked for bandages for her foot, and as I applied them to her feet, The Papa observed that they followed an almost perfect line.  Right along where her shoe would have been.  Can you guess?  Fire ants!  I counted about nine bites on that foot, but the only one that formed the pustule was the one that would have been just inside the shoe.  My guess is that fire ants were stinging her, and when she reached down to brush them off her finger was stung, too.

I have no idea why she wanted her socks pulled up.

We consider this girl to be pretty smart, but this is not the first time she has been obviously stung by fire ants and not reported it.  I'm just not sure what to say about that.  It did confirm what I had suspected though:  it wasn't really the scrape on that right middle finger that was bothering her.  (See why I don't put much stock in her self-analysis?)

The next morning we went straight-away to see our chiropractor who started our examination in a back room.  He soon asked if we could get back out to the tables so he could do the adjustments more easily.  He considered her subclinical.  Totally asymptomatic.  Apparently people walk around with strep all the time.  We talked for a few minutes about the immune-boosting things we were doing.  I asked him if I should have her re-tested in a week or so and if he could do it.  His answer?  "Yes, I can test her, and no you shouldn't re-test her.  The only reason to re-test her is if you plan to treat her with an antibiotic, and if I know you, Denise, you're not going to do that."  Fast friends, him and me.  He and I.  Whatever.  What he said (and he's right) was that discovering she had strep was totally coincidental.  If not for those fire ants, we never would have known because I would not have taken her to an allopathic doctor for a six-hour fever and a slight rash in the creases.

Anyway, the days came and went.  No further symptoms.  Kind of anti-climactic, I know, but that's kind of the way it is on Maplechase Drive.  Perhaps what the pediatrician meant to say that day was, "I don't know of any alternatives."  Soon he will though.  I believe that in Kay Kay's lifetime medical records will be computerized and stored in a central database, and I want hers to be as accurate as possible.  To that end, I've written a letter to the pediatrician explaining the course of action we took so that her record shows we didn't treat this case of strep with an antibiotic.  I want him to know there are alternatives.  The Papa says it seems like just a nice way of saying, "You're wrong."  Totally not my purpose.

But he was.

Typical.  Who's going to eat it first?

My Joy

When I was a freshman in college at UNC-G, I had a girlfriend named Joey.  It really aggravated her to be called "Joy" because her name was "Joey".  Now I have a husband named Joey and a son who is My Joy.  It took me six months to figure that out, and, for the record, it wasn't the first six months.

The Papa, Kay Kay, JayBird, and I had a small celebration at our favorite bakery.  (Well, it's the favorite bakery of Kay Kay and me, anyway.  JayBird abstained from the vote so The Papa yielded.)  I didn't think to call ahead to be sure there were cupcakes, but it didn't matter.  We each chose what we wanted.  Kay Kay chose pineapple honey cake, and The Papa had some fancy-flavored bread pudding.  I had chocolate chip banana bread which was the best.  Sweet sister shared bites of her cake with the birthday boy, and The Papa shared his bread pudding for the purpose of singing Happy Birthday and blowing out the candle.

Did I mention we were at Kay Kay's favorite bakery?  She hasn't prayed to go there yet like she prays to "go to PT's for dinner", but I'm sure it won't be long before Uprising makes the prayer list.

It made her feel like dancing.

Truthfully, Bob Marley made her feel like dancing.

And it turned JayBird upside down.  No, wait.  That was The Papa.

Both our babies have been batty for being upside down.  (Pun intended.)

Later that afternoon, we planted a tree.  We really didn't plan to plant a tree in honor of JayBird's birthday.  It just worked out that way.

The Papa had lots of help.  Look who did the dirty work.

You can guess what's coming next, right?

"I can wash him off, Mama."  He didn't mind.

I know it's so cliche to say this, but it really is hard to believe our JayBird is one already.  No elaborate party.  Not even a call-ahead to insure the traditional cupcake.  Just a roll-with-it kind-of day.  Just like our boy.  I'm so grateful for all the giggles he's given us, for stretching the limits of our love, and for these eyes.

My Joy.

Two Kids and a Clean House

How does that happen?

Last year, for my birthday, my very generous mother gave me the gift of bi-weekly housecleaning for six months.  Since my birthday was relatively close to JayBird's due date, I was even more excited than I would have been otherwise, if that's even possible.  "Miss Beth", the cleaning lady, came for the last time in September 2012.  Then, I received a gift of housecleaning for January and February for my birthday in 2013.  Although we tried very hard to be out of the house when Miss Beth arrived, there were plenty of times when we didn't quite make it out in time.  Kay Kay, of course, was very comfortable following her around, studying her clothes, her equipment, and supervising her work.

Recently, after Miss Beth had made her final visit, Kay Kay said to me, "Mama, when is Miss Beth coming back?"

"Miss Beth is all finished here.  She won't be coming back."

You know what she asked me next?  "Who's going to clean our house, then, Mama?"

...joke's on you, kid.

JayBird just tried to stay out of the way.

That's his story, and he's sticking to it.

"Well, What Does She Do All Day?"

I'm seldom left speechless, but this one had me stumped.  As we were leaving the dentist's office, the clerk (whom we've known for a long time, but not well), offered Kay Kay a sticker.  Apparently, the clerk was asking her, "Do you know so-and-so character?  Do you know so-and-so other character or the other?"  And on and on until finally The Papa explained that she doesn't really watch television so she really doesn't know all those characters.  That's when I got the look and the question, "Well, what does she do all day?"

The question bugged me for days after.  I honestly was stumped.  And so I knew a blog post was brewing.  I had to be able to figure this out.  I mean, I'm with her every day.  Almost all day every day.  Surely I could tell someone what she was doing.  If I can't even remember now, how am I ever going to remember in twenty years when she says, "Mom, what did we do all day?"

So here it is.  Every day is a little different, of course, but this is what a pretty normal day (in our house) would look like:

 She dresses herself.

Well, she does dress herself, but this outfit is sort of an anomaly.  We were going to a birthday party,and she wanted to wear these hand-me-down shorts from her favorite boy neighbor.  "It's cold, Kay Kay, and you need to wear long pants."  "Ok, Mama.  I will wear these pants Miss Dayna gave me."  Faded, too-big hand-me-down pants are at least seasonally appropriate, I thought.  And then she pulled on the shorts.  The sweater?  Her answer to my objection to a short-sleeved t-shirt.  Can you tell I pick my battles?  The way I see it:  when she dresses herself, it's one thing marked off my list.

She helps me cook.

Yes, the pan is hot, and yes, she is careful.

 She fingerpaints...

...and sometimes she doesn't even get her fingers dirty!  (Thank you, Pinterest!)

She dances with JayBird.

Want to know how he feels about that?

She plays dress-up, and dances on the table so she can see herself in the mirror.  And escape her baby brother.  For now, at least.

Double-layered pajamas, fairy princess dress, cape, and kazoo.  On the yoga mat.

So after I mumbled for a few minutes trying to think of some things she does all day (and really to keep them from thinking I just lock her in a closet), the clerk said, "That must be a lot of work for you."  I guess I never thought of it that way.  

I just try my (almost) best (most of the time) to keep her flame burning.  To stay out of her way.  To honor the light within her.

Namaste.

Yes, she's under attack.