Little fibber

I have so many posts to catch up on - most of which are sitting in my drafts folder, half written, half waiting for pictures - but I can't seem to motivate myself to finish them.  But this, I want to remember, because it was cute.  Sort of a "you had to be there" cute, but cute none-the-less.

Last night as Todd was giving Nick a bath, I was picking up and putting away a few things upstairs.  I popped into the bathroom to say something to Todd and noticed that he was washing Nick's hair (as we do just about every night).  I left the bathroom to finish what I was doing, and came back to hang out for the remainder of bath time.

When I knelt down next to Todd and the tub, Nick's hair had clearly been rinsed.  I said:
"Nick, did Daddy wash your hair?"

Nick reached up, rubbed his hair with his hands, looked me straight in the eye, and shook his head "no".

Todd and I both cracked up and Todd said "how are you gonna lie to mommy like that?!"

I asked Nick again "Daddy didn't wash your hair??"

And again, Nick shook his head with a very firm "no".

So I asked Nick "did Daddy wash your stinky feet?"

Again, a firm toddler "no" head shake ensued.  Followed by the propping of his feet on the side of the tub for me to scrub them.

At this point, Todd threw in the towel and said "well, if he doesn't think I'm gettin' him clean enough, I guess you'll have to do bath time from now on!"

So I tried one more time, and asked Nick "did Daddy wash your stinky butt?"

And Nick grinned and shook his head "yes".

Guess we know where Daddy stands with bath time.  Full time butt scrubber!

Merry, Merry!

Hopefully by now, all of our friends and family (at least those who read this blog) have received our 2012 Christmas card.  If not, well...spoiler alert!

 

 

May the rest of your 2012, and all of your 2013 be Merry and Bright!

my holiday spirit

I have been having a hard time getting into the holiday spirit.  I put on a good front, and pretend like I am all kinds of excited, but truth be told, it's been a long December (cue Counting Crows) and excitedly anticipating Christmas has been on my back burner. 

With the combination of the loss of a dear friends mother - who was a dear friend to us and "Grandma Mary" to Nick; the horrible colds and allergies Nick has been fighting including a 911 call and ambulance trip -- all of which, in turn, have caused almost a full month of sleeplessness for the whole K household; getting my period again this month when we so desperately want to have another baby; and then the horrible tragedy that occurred in Newtown, CT, my heart has been heavy and hurting.  Combined with a lack of sleep, I have been grumpy and downright sad.

Sometimes it's tough to feel like you have to be strong for everyone around you.  It's tough to feel as though you can't truly let out your emotions, because "hey, you're the mom - you've gotta get it together!"  Then you find yourself sitting at the computer on a Monday morning, googling "Childhood apraxia of speech", crying into your coffee because you feel so helpless. 

And then you remember those families who's loved ones were yanked out of their loving arms just days before what is supposed to be the happiest day of the year, and suddenly your tears turn into heavy sobs - your feelings of helplessness turn into a pit in your stomach and all you want to do is vomit, curl up in the fetal position, and sleep off this horrible nightmare.  You feel guilty for having your own feelings of sadness, when your sadness is mere ounces compared to the tons of heavy hearts breaking up North.  The hearts breaking across the country.

After two weeks of Nick not sleeping - crying every time we put him down in his crib, us rushing in every few minutes to try and soothe him back to sleep, him standing up and screaming every couple of hours through the night, and ultimately all three of us (four including whinnie) waking up in the master bedroom at 4am in a huge, sweaty, uncomfortable pile of people - Nicks foot in my face, his head resting on top of Todd's - we decided he was getting pretty damn smart for an almost two year old, and this had to stop.  We had to resort back to the worst parental punishment of all.  Crying it out.

Two nights of crying it out, and we've had two nights of restful sleep.  All of us in our own beds.  Nobody sweating from the abundance of flannel footie pj's and body heat crammed onto a queen size mattress.  Night number one, Nick cried on and off - never more than a loud whine - for 50 minutes.  After that, he realized it was a losing battle, laid down, and never made a peep the rest of the night.  Last night, Nick pulled the same loud whining routine for a mere 30 minutes.  He did wake up twice in the night, but both times were also loud whines, not lasting more than 5-10 minutes each.

Two nights of sleep for all of us, and I feel like a new person.  Nick is acting like a new toddler.  My hopelessness is being replaced with hopefulness. 

While we still grieve for our dear Mary, and especially her family, I'm beginning to realize that she is no longer hurting.  She no longer has to battle the terrible cancer that consumed her body.  And we all have a beautiful angel watching over us.  I know she will take particularly good care of Nick - oh how she loved our boy - and that brings me so much peace. 

We made an appointment at the allergist for Nick, for this Friday.  I'm hopeful he will be able to give us some insight on what kind of foods might be irritating Nick, without our knowledge.  And I'm relieved that after three "nope - not an ear infection - he just has a cold" pediatrician appointments, it's ok for us to let Nick cry it out at night...because he's not sick...he's just smart (I cry, mom and dad rush in!).

And I've realized that God's timing is perfect timing.  With Nick's sleepless December, God knew I wouldn't be able to handle first trimester sickness and midnight potty breaks with a screaming toddler across the hall.  He knew we needed a little more time.  So with His grace and guidance, we will keep trying.  And eventually we will succeed.  (Plus we've got Mary on our side...and if I know Mary, I know she'll be sending us a little extra good baby "juju". ;))

We took Nick to see Santa last night.  Seeing his face light up as Santa walked in - jingle bells ringing, lights twinkling, and so much magic in the room - my holiday spirit welled up inside to a point it hasn't reached all month.  Santa read his poem "Send Your Babies to Bed With a Kiss" to the mommies & daddies in the room, reminding us that while these times are tough and not always fun, all too soon our children will be grown, and we won't be able to kiss them goodnight every night -- and we will truly miss these days.  My heart was so full, being able to kiss my sweet boy and push the hair back from his forehead...yet it was so heavy and hurting for the parents in CT that can no longer do such things with their little ones.

So I am consciously stopping myself from dwelling on my own sadness.  I'm realizing that most of the worries that I currently carry on my shoulders are minimal and will quickly dissipate...that there is always hope and beauty in every situation.  And I am turning my holiday spirit around.  I am soaking in the joy in every little moment, and ignoring the "what ifs" that linger.  Today and every day, I will soak in the little moments.  I will embrace the tantrums, and smile as I get vomited on.  I'll laugh as I accidentally stick my hand in a poopy diaper, and I'll most definitely hug and kiss my baby like it's going out of style.  I'll encourage his vocabulary and cheer as he says a new word - even if it's not quite enunciated.  I will excitedly anticipate the look on Nick's face as he opens Christmas present after Christmas present.  And while I may be cranky at the lack of sleep, I will giggle at Nick's requests to eat cheese puffs for breakfast - and I may just let him on occasion - because tomorrow is not promised, but the memories we make today, are. 

Current state of the Toddler

Nick turned 22 months at the beginning of December.  And now it's practically mid-December and I realized it's been quite some time since I did any sort of update on my almost-two-year-old.

Let me just start by saying thank you to the big man upstairs for finally pulling Nick out of that nearly 3 week funk he was in.  We were certain he'd hit the terrible two's a few months early, on account of every.freaking.day was a struggle, another temper tantrum, another sleepless night, another meltdown due to the smallest, stupidest things.

Turns out it was most likely the remnants of those damn eye-teeth cutting through (suckers were 10x worse than the 1 year molars if ya can believe that), combined with a massive growth spurt (which I touched on in a past post).  And of course, no sooner had the eye-teeth popped in, and the growth spurt evened out, than Nick acquired another horrific cold...one that he's still trying to shake by way of coughing like a 68 year old Marlboro-red smokin' old lady (phlegm and all!).  It's one of those kinds of coughs that when you're out in public and all of a sudden your kid starts coughing so hard he sounds like he's going to retch all over the grocery store floor, you turn deep red, bury his entire face inside your jacket (praying he doesn't suffocate in there) and whip your head back and forth (a la willow smith) to make sure no bystanders are judging your method of parenting.  Seriously, though - can somebody make a cough and cold medicine for toddlers that is actually effective AND safe??  You'll dominate the market while simultaneously making a LOT of very tired mommies very happy.  Swears.

Moving on...now that we're over/at the tail end of all of that general icky-ness, things are just plain old stinkin' fun in the K household.  Having a two year old is awesome.  SO flipping awesome.  Especially when he sleeps through the night, but I digress...

Nick is still not talking much, but has acquired a few new intelligible words including "Go" "Doggie" (thanks to my brother's new puppy, which seemed to cause Nick to own that word like he'd been saying it his whole life!) "Hot" (ok, he already had this one) "Vacuum" (which sounds more like 'vaaababa!' but is way close by Nick standards and we totally know what he means every time he says it) "Hi" "Gramma" (which sounds like Gaagaa, but melts her heart regardless.  He also calls my dad this same word even though we are still referring to my dad as "Boss"...guess a kid knows a grandparent when they see one) "No" "Yeh" (for yes) "DaDa!" "Maaaamamamama" (only when he's upset or angry, ha!) and the ever popular "Dora" (which sounds like Doooorahhh - and yes, he says this one all.the.time.)

Aside from his lack of verbal communication - which we are still working on every other week with our fabulous speech therapist Ms. Kerry, who Nick took to like she was offering up free ice cream or something (for real though, she has some awesome toys) - Nick is growing and learning with leaps and bounds.  He knows every letter of the alphabet, and not just in alphabetical order.  He knows almost all his shapes, all of his numbers 1-10, most animals, a few colors (this one has been the toughest to work on) and damn near every other single thing we say.  Most recently he has learned all the hand motions to "itsy bitsy spider" and "I'm a little teapot", which is seriously the cutest thing in the world.

He gives the best hugs ever, and greets whoever picks him up from daycare in the afternoon by running at you full speed, squealing with delight, and practically jumping in your arms to bury his little face in yours - arms around your neck - squeezing like he hasn't seen you in weeks.  Best part of my day.

His play time has evolved immensely and he's using his imagination so much more every day - pushing cars around the room, making sure each of his trucks has a driver in the driver seat (whichever little character he can find), pretending to stir and "cook" with toy spoons and dishes - and then "taking a bite" of whatever he "made" and saying "mmmm!" 
He concentrates on puzzles, knows how to wind up his tiny wind-up toys, and hugs and kisses all of his stuffed animals.  He loves playing with play-do, reading books, and pushing his trains around the floor.  And if it's something he can climb on?  You better believe he'll be standing on top of it, seconds from falling off, clapping and laughing at the panic washing over my face as I dive to catch him before he breaks a bone.  yikes.

As far as current eating habits go, eating has never been a huge deal to Nick.  He eats when he's hungry, but he's never been thoroughly interested in food - unless it's snack food related.  He could live off of goldfish, cheerios, pretzels, yogurt melts, and any kind of chip out there -- particularly tortilla, if he had to choose.  He prefers veggies over anything else on his plate, but don't dare give him processed foods or he throws a fit.  Those Gerber toddler meals?  He down right refuses to eat them.  The squeezy pouches are a different story though - he sucks those down like water.  And we're guaranteed to get a good meal in him if we eat at Chipotle.  Homeboy can chow down on some black beans, cilantro rice, and corn salsa.  We've introduced him to various types of juice, which he'll drink (specifically if it's out of a juice box...he loves those) but he still prefers water or milk over anything else.  So much so, that last weekend when we were at Costco and had forgotten to get him milk with his lunch, he ran over to the milk case, pointing at all the milk jugs and signing "milk".  We had to make a stop at 7-11 after that just to grab him some milk.  He was very grateful.

With Nick's recent growth spurt comes the need to sort through his clothes, again.  I had just bought him a bunch of 18-24 clothes at the beginning of the season, because he was still fitting so perfectly into 18 month and swimming in 24 month clothes, that I was certain the 18-24 month stuff would get him through the winter.  Silly mommy.  When he shot up two inches practically over night, all of his 18 month pants became high waters, and his 18 month footie pj's?  Forget it.  We've had to purchase all new 24 month and 2T jammies so he has something to wear at night.  Fortunately we had quite a few pairs of 24 month pants and enough shirts, but at the rate he's growing, he'll be well into 3T by spring.  Of course he didn't put on any weight as he shot up, so he's still skinny and 24 month pants are super loose around his waist.  Seems like outfitting a growing toddler is a consistently losing battle.  Let's not even talk about shoes, shall we?  Nick is in a size 6 shoe already, and rapidly outgrowing it.  Apparently we'll be buying new shoes every 4-5 months for the next 15 years, as well.  Todd can't believe that a pair of Nick's tennis shoes cost damn near the same as his own.

He's funny, kind, sweet, innocent, ornery, occasionally impatient, a tad stubborn, and ridiculously adorable.  His smile goes from ear-to-ear, and he's rarely unhappy.  His daddy and I are his best friends, and while I know it's naive of me to think, I hope it always stays that way. 

The past 22 months have been the most challenging and simultaneously most rewarding months of our lives.  I can barely remember life before Nick, but what I can remember is that there was a piece of me that was never fully whole.  These past 22 months have been so fulfilling.  Sleeplessness, and all.  Because of Nick, I am whole.

Like I said, having an almost-two-year-old is awesome.  Completely awesome.

More scenes from Marriage

Scene:  Eating the homemade chicken noodle soup I made yesterday in the crock pot, with a side of sliced, buttered bread (just like we both apparently ate as kids).

Me: "Man, this chicken noodle soup was good, huh?  Better than I thought it would be!"

Todd: "Agreed.  Although it could have been the butter sandwich we just ate..."

hmm.  point taken.

Aw, nuts.

Saturday night was quite possibly the scariest night of my life.

Around 4:30pm, Nick, Todd and I were hanging around the coffee table, playing with some of Nick's toys and munching on a little chex mix, when Nick pointed to the bowl of peanut m&m's on the end table and made the sign for "please".  So we thought "eh, sure, why not" and gave him one yellow peanut m&m.

As soon as he ate it, I said to Todd "yikes...we probably shouldn't have let him have that - I hope he doesn't have a reaction".

5 minutes later, Nick was scratching and grabbing at his neck and throat.  I tried to just assume it was coincidence and maybe the zipper on his hoodie was bothering his neck. But he just kept itching and grabbing his throat.

About 5 more minutes passed and Nick got very fussy and irritable.  He kept demanding "Dora!" so Todd hoisted him up on the couch onto his lap, and was about to turn on Dora when Nick got a funny look on his face and proceeded to vomit ALL over Todd.  Everything he had eaten all day went spewing out onto Todd.  Panicked that it might get on my parents couch (I know...can't believe this was my first thought), I dove in and caught as much as I could with my bare hands.  Dad came running in with a bowl.

After Nick finished vomiting, we all decided that explained why he was so fussy -- he didn't feel well.

So we scooped him up and ran him up to the bathtub to get cleaned up.  But no sooner had I plopped him in the tub, than I noticed the entire right side of Nick's face - from forehead to neck, cheek, even his eye - started to swell up and turn red and blotchy.  His left ear started to puff up as well.  And his neck, and belly were covered in hives.

Panic ensued.  On my part, that is.  Everyone else remained pretty calm - including Nick, who wanted nothing more than to play with the bath toys, even as his face continued to swell and turn redder and redder.

At this point, I was so panicked that my dad decided to call one of their new neighbors who happened to be working on his medical residency (keep in mind, we were at my parents Lake House, so we knew little to nothing about the area - particularly the medical facilities in the area).  The neighbor said "don't even mess around with urgent care - call 911 right now".  So Dad hung up, called 911, and within 5 minutes, an ambulance and fire & rescue squad were on the front porch.

By this point, the swelling on Nick's face had started to go down a bit, but the paramedics didn't want to take any chances, and decided that he needed to be transported to the hospital immediately.

So Nick and I hopped in the ambulance - a first for BOTH of us - and headed off to Martha Jefferson Hospital in Charlottesville.  Todd, Mom and Dad followed close behind.

Naturally, after vomiting and having so much excitement take place, Nick couldn't stay awake any longer and fell asleep in the ambulance. 

By the time we got to the hospital, Nick looked almost 100% better, and slept through the initial exam.

And about 30 minutes after arriving, Nick woke up and was back to his normal, giggly, rambunctious self.

The doctor at the hospital said it was most likely a peanut allergy.  I also got a nice little scolding (in the nicest of ways) on how a not-quite-two year old shouldn't be eating small, hard objects like peanut m&m's anyway due to choking hazard.  Man, I felt awful.

Talk about terrifying.

Fortunately, Nick is fine now.  My first priority this week is to call the pediatrician's office and set up a blood test with an allergist.  I want to know all the facts and find out if there are any other things that Nick might be allergic to, so that we don't have another incident like Saturday night.

I literally felt my world crashing down, worrying about my baby as everything unfolded.  Even just re-thinking about the whole event as I type it here makes my stomach and heart ache. 

I know there will be many, many moments of mommy mistakes over the coming years...things I won't have any control over, and things that I'll think back on and wonder "why did I let that even happen?"  Right now, this tops the list.

My poor, sweet, innocent baby was subjected to that horrible reaction because of my poor judgment.  I can't beat myself up over it, because I'm sure eventually we would have found out one way or another.  I just feel so incredibly fortunate that Nick is OK.

God was certainly watching out for my baby on Saturday night.  Talk about blessed.

Uh, guess again?

I'm pretty sure I lied in my last post.

I thought Nick had been waking up screaming because of growing pains, so after giving him some tylenol (and then motrin 4.5 hours later when I went to bed) two nights ago, he slept all night.

Apparently he was just drugged.  Because last night?  He protested bedtime like a Union worker.

I thought I was the sucker for toddler crying and screaming...but I proved more able to drown it out than Todd.

Nick finally ended up crying himself to sleep...but only because Daddy came to the rescue and rubbed his back until he passed out.

Thank God for Daddies.  Hats off to all the single mama's out there - I have NO clue how you do it.