There is something special about communication with a three year old.
You never know what is in their head, imaginary, or what is real.
Ryan and Evan seem to have vivid imaginations. They are always creating games and scenarios. Play acting.
Lately with them away at preschool six hours a week, we've spent a great deal of time discussing what they did at school and who they played with.
I've been a bit skeptical, because again, you never know what is real or what is in their vivid imaginations. But, the last few weeks they've been telling me that they've played with Briggin or Joaquin or Conlan or Nathan. They have even told me about the things they did with their friends. They played with blocks, or rode the bikes together, or played with trucks.
However, Thursday in the parking lot, Evan began to shout, "There's Briggin. Briggin! Hi Briggin!" Sure enough, there was their classmate Briggin walking to class with his Mom and Sister.
While I am still not sure if they ARE actually playing WITH their classmates, I do at least know that they recognize them on sight.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Christmas Dilemma
I have a dilemma. I don't know what to get the boys for Christmas. Can you believe it? Well, actually, since these kids have just about everything, it is harder than it looks.
This is what I have:
Evan: microphone and stand, and it's red. stocking stuff like cars and a few small stuffed animals.
Ryan: ??????. I've gotten him the same stocking stuff but I cannot come up with a big ticket item for him to save my life!!!
What is wrong with me?
Why can't I find gifts for my guys????
HELP ME!!!
This is what I have:
Evan: microphone and stand, and it's red. stocking stuff like cars and a few small stuffed animals.
Ryan: ??????. I've gotten him the same stocking stuff but I cannot come up with a big ticket item for him to save my life!!!
What is wrong with me?
Why can't I find gifts for my guys????
HELP ME!!!
Friday, November 20, 2009
Stories
Being that the boys have been awake horrifically early of late, we've been cuddling in Mommy and Daddy's bed until the sun rises. The boys are raring to go. I am not. To keep them quiet and cuddling I've begun early morning story hour. Being that the last thing I want to do is turn on a light, we've begun making up stories. Ala Mad Libs.
The boys LOVE this.
Here's an example from this morning (their words are in Italics):
Once upon a time there were two little dinosaurs. One was a giant, huge tyrannosaurus , the other was a big, red dilophosaurus. Their names were Jessica and McQueen. The two dinosaurs liked to play football, soccer, hockey and golf. Sometimes when they play games they like to share, but sometimes they don't share. When they share they have fun. When they don't share they go to timeout. One day McQueen decided to I don't know. So Jessica decided to tickle him.
This is so much fun to do with them. They love it, they stretch their creativity, and well, they are calm for a few minutes.
This week we've had stories about dinosaurs, trucks, boys, and puppies, and I've been able to stay in my warm bed until 6.
The boys LOVE this.
Here's an example from this morning (their words are in Italics):
Once upon a time there were two little dinosaurs. One was a giant, huge tyrannosaurus , the other was a big, red dilophosaurus. Their names were Jessica and McQueen. The two dinosaurs liked to play football, soccer, hockey and golf. Sometimes when they play games they like to share, but sometimes they don't share. When they share they have fun. When they don't share they go to timeout. One day McQueen decided to I don't know. So Jessica decided to tickle him.
This is so much fun to do with them. They love it, they stretch their creativity, and well, they are calm for a few minutes.
This week we've had stories about dinosaurs, trucks, boys, and puppies, and I've been able to stay in my warm bed until 6.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
It all just boils to the surface.
I had a post planned for today with some of the stories that the boys and I have been creating, but last night I had a brief "conversation" with my friend Lindsay, and it got me thinking. (and thinking and thinking)
She has a friend who is 27 weeks pregnant with twin girls. Her friend is in the hospital, on the dreaded Magnesium Sulfate. Trying to keep those babies cooking, as long as possible.
It was shocking to us that we were so naive about pregnancy. We are both well educated women, who um, well, lets just say, "do our research." How could we not know, or maybe understand the epidemic of premature birth.
Maybe it is a blessing that we, as total worriers did not know, all that stress might have brought our kids even earlier!
Women give birth to term babies all the time. That is the norm, that is what we hear about. I knew I would not carry these babies to term. I have a small frame, small hips, just not a lot of room there to hold two babies. But did I ever think 26 weeks? That is just unheard of. 26 weeks. Think about that. More than three months early. Three months! Just into the third trimester. WHOA. How could I not know that this was even a possibility? I thought early, 36 weeks, 34 maybe.
One in EIGHT babies is born too soon. Look at 8 friends, at least one of them, statistically at least, should be touched by prematurity. That's the same number as women touched by breast cancer.
These are not all babies born addicted to drugs, or to teen moms, or mothers who did not have prenatal care. They are women like my friends, Lindsay, Jen, Nina, Saffron, Keri, Donna, Karissa, Educated Women who took care of themselves and their babies. Women who had no idea they would be a statistic of premature birth.
They had no idea that some doctor would come in and tell them that their child or children would not make it through the night, and if they did it would be a miracle. They had no idea that people would shake their heads every day that their children survived, and fought just to breathe. They had no idea that they would have to SIT and stare that their babies for days, weeks, before they could touch or hold their babies in their arms. They had no idea the kind of agony that would cause. How they would look around the NICU and see other moms or dads holding their babies, and they would fight back the tears as they wondered if their day would ever come.
Those parents would have no idea what an IVH, or a Oscillating Ventilator, or a High Frequency Ventilator, or a PICC line, or an umbilical line, or NEC, or a PDA, or a VCUG, or ROP or any of the many medical terms and procedures and equipment and all the things that could go wrong were. They would have no idea that they would spend endless hours at the beside of their barely alive child and then spend endless hours at home reading and researching all of the things they heard at the hospital that day.
Those parents would experience THAT moment. EVERYDAY. As they signed into the NICU and washed their hands. Searching the faces of the staff, for signs, was it a good day, was it a bad day, has anything changed, is my baby still alive? EVERYDAY. Intellectually you know they will call you if there is a problem and you need to get to the hospital quickly, because you've experienced THAT call already. But what if, in the time it took you to walk through that dead zone down that hallway in the hospital, they couldn't reach you. EVERYDAY.
Those parents, three plus years later, know that this experience will never fully leave them. There will still be days that while sitting in a park surrounded by moms and kids listening to a guy with a guitar sing "You Are My Sunshine" will bring a mom to tears, uncontrollable tears. There will still be days that hearing someone say they are 26 weeks pregnant and feel safe now will not make them want to shout, "YOU FOOL, you are NOT safe, you are a LONG, LONG way from safe". There will still be days that upon hearing that a friend of a friend is in the hospital at 27 weeks, their heart will not sink, and their eyes will not well up.
Those people, they, WE. We had no idea. Now we do and it still sucks. No one should ever have to go through that living hell. No child should ever go through half of the pain and suffering our children have been through in their young lives. No parent should have to look at her boys heels and see the scars from the constant blood draws, daily, twice daily, every three hours. No parent should have to see the scars on their child's back or chest, or belly from some procedure done before they were even supposed to be born. No parent should have to deal with NICU PTSD, for the rest of their lives. Yet, one in eight do, will, until WE do something about it.
Support the March of Dimes, during Prematurity Awareness Month, and everyday. They are Fighting for Preemies, and for All babies.
Support your local preemie parent. WE ARE EVERYWHERE.
She has a friend who is 27 weeks pregnant with twin girls. Her friend is in the hospital, on the dreaded Magnesium Sulfate. Trying to keep those babies cooking, as long as possible.
It was shocking to us that we were so naive about pregnancy. We are both well educated women, who um, well, lets just say, "do our research." How could we not know, or maybe understand the epidemic of premature birth.
Maybe it is a blessing that we, as total worriers did not know, all that stress might have brought our kids even earlier!
Women give birth to term babies all the time. That is the norm, that is what we hear about. I knew I would not carry these babies to term. I have a small frame, small hips, just not a lot of room there to hold two babies. But did I ever think 26 weeks? That is just unheard of. 26 weeks. Think about that. More than three months early. Three months! Just into the third trimester. WHOA. How could I not know that this was even a possibility? I thought early, 36 weeks, 34 maybe.
One in EIGHT babies is born too soon. Look at 8 friends, at least one of them, statistically at least, should be touched by prematurity. That's the same number as women touched by breast cancer.
These are not all babies born addicted to drugs, or to teen moms, or mothers who did not have prenatal care. They are women like my friends, Lindsay, Jen, Nina, Saffron, Keri, Donna, Karissa, Educated Women who took care of themselves and their babies. Women who had no idea they would be a statistic of premature birth.
They had no idea that some doctor would come in and tell them that their child or children would not make it through the night, and if they did it would be a miracle. They had no idea that people would shake their heads every day that their children survived, and fought just to breathe. They had no idea that they would have to SIT and stare that their babies for days, weeks, before they could touch or hold their babies in their arms. They had no idea the kind of agony that would cause. How they would look around the NICU and see other moms or dads holding their babies, and they would fight back the tears as they wondered if their day would ever come.
Those parents would have no idea what an IVH, or a Oscillating Ventilator, or a High Frequency Ventilator, or a PICC line, or an umbilical line, or NEC, or a PDA, or a VCUG, or ROP or any of the many medical terms and procedures and equipment and all the things that could go wrong were. They would have no idea that they would spend endless hours at the beside of their barely alive child and then spend endless hours at home reading and researching all of the things they heard at the hospital that day.
Those parents would experience THAT moment. EVERYDAY. As they signed into the NICU and washed their hands. Searching the faces of the staff, for signs, was it a good day, was it a bad day, has anything changed, is my baby still alive? EVERYDAY. Intellectually you know they will call you if there is a problem and you need to get to the hospital quickly, because you've experienced THAT call already. But what if, in the time it took you to walk through that dead zone down that hallway in the hospital, they couldn't reach you. EVERYDAY.
Those parents, three plus years later, know that this experience will never fully leave them. There will still be days that while sitting in a park surrounded by moms and kids listening to a guy with a guitar sing "You Are My Sunshine" will bring a mom to tears, uncontrollable tears. There will still be days that hearing someone say they are 26 weeks pregnant and feel safe now will not make them want to shout, "YOU FOOL, you are NOT safe, you are a LONG, LONG way from safe". There will still be days that upon hearing that a friend of a friend is in the hospital at 27 weeks, their heart will not sink, and their eyes will not well up.
Those people, they, WE. We had no idea. Now we do and it still sucks. No one should ever have to go through that living hell. No child should ever go through half of the pain and suffering our children have been through in their young lives. No parent should have to look at her boys heels and see the scars from the constant blood draws, daily, twice daily, every three hours. No parent should have to see the scars on their child's back or chest, or belly from some procedure done before they were even supposed to be born. No parent should have to deal with NICU PTSD, for the rest of their lives. Yet, one in eight do, will, until WE do something about it.
Support the March of Dimes, during Prematurity Awareness Month, and everyday. They are Fighting for Preemies, and for All babies.
Support your local preemie parent. WE ARE EVERYWHERE.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Privacy? What's that?
Today I was sitting, um, "indisposed". While out side the door I heard a crash followed by a scream and a cry. (seriously, can a Mom ever get a little "quiet time"?) I opened the door to a tear streaked Evan who had slipped and hit his head on the tile floor.
I did my best to console him from my location. He was having a tougher time than normal composing himself. Ryan came over and hugged and kissed his brothers back and head. Gently petting him saying "It's okay McQueen".
It really was the sweetest thing.
I'm sure I would have enjoyed the moment more had we all been sitting on the couch.
I did my best to console him from my location. He was having a tougher time than normal composing himself. Ryan came over and hugged and kissed his brothers back and head. Gently petting him saying "It's okay McQueen".
It really was the sweetest thing.
I'm sure I would have enjoyed the moment more had we all been sitting on the couch.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Prematurity Awareness Month
November is Prematurity Awareness Month, and today is Prematurity Awareness Day.
I am very aware.
I am 26 weeks aware.
I am 5 months in the NICU aware.
I am three and a half years of specialists, medicines, aware.
I am one heart surgery aware.
I am one pneumothorax aware.
I am two laser eye surgeries aware.
I am one brain bleed aware.
I am countless blood transfusions, rounds of antibiotics, and procedures aware.
I am I wonder if my babies are going to be alive if I fall asleep aware.
I am afraid of the phone ringing aware.
I am thankful for every milestone reached aware.
I am amazed by every day aware.
I am ONE IN EVERY EIGHT BABIES AWARE.
Fight for preemies. Be aware.
I am very aware.
I am 26 weeks aware.
I am 5 months in the NICU aware.
I am three and a half years of specialists, medicines, aware.
I am one heart surgery aware.
I am one pneumothorax aware.
I am two laser eye surgeries aware.
I am one brain bleed aware.
I am countless blood transfusions, rounds of antibiotics, and procedures aware.
I am I wonder if my babies are going to be alive if I fall asleep aware.
I am afraid of the phone ringing aware.
I am thankful for every milestone reached aware.
I am amazed by every day aware.
I am ONE IN EVERY EIGHT BABIES AWARE.
Fight for preemies. Be aware.
Monday, November 16, 2009
OCD Much?
I'm sure I've mentioned before that Ryan is a bit particular. A bit Obsessive Compulsive if you will. For the most part he is pretty easy going, and the OCD only rears its ugly head when it comes to having all of his cars lined up a certain way, or only wanting a certain color car or block. EXCEPT, when it comes to his room.
Don't mess with this kids room.
We've had serious meltdowns when it comes to changes in his room.
Scott tried to hang new pictures...meltdown.
We took out his brothers crib...meltdown.
We put in his big boy bed...meltdown.
We removed his crib...meltdown.
A box on the closet shelf is slightly out of place...meltdown.
On top of the Obsessive Compulsive Disorder he is my highly observant child. He is the kid that sees the tiniest detail in the tiniest spot. He's the kid that sees something in the distance that no one else sees.
Here's an example. There is a certain red car from a certain CARS movie. We love him. There is a certain box in the rafters of the garage that got placed there late last night, for a certain holiday coming up soon, with a tiny, maybe one inch picture of that certain car showing, and Ryan, within seconds of being in the garage, pointed it out to me. "Look Mama, it's Lightning McQueen...WHAT is THAT up there????" (my response was something totally unbelievable as "it's just a box honey.") Seriously. This kid notices EVERYTHING.
Today, I finally reached my limit. I cannot take one more morning of Ryan waking up as soon as the morning sky turns from the dark of night to just the hint of morning light. (That's about 5 AM in case any of you were wondering) I nailed his black out blanket across the window more securely so NO light will get through. The difference is negligible. To the naked eye you cannot really tell there are 6 more nails in the curtain.
Ryan is currently crying in his room because he will not be able to see the light anymore.
Only MY child would have noticed that difference. I'm sorry kid, I'm sorry you got your hyper observant, OCD tendencies from me.
Don't mess with this kids room.
We've had serious meltdowns when it comes to changes in his room.
Scott tried to hang new pictures...meltdown.
We took out his brothers crib...meltdown.
We put in his big boy bed...meltdown.
We removed his crib...meltdown.
A box on the closet shelf is slightly out of place...meltdown.
On top of the Obsessive Compulsive Disorder he is my highly observant child. He is the kid that sees the tiniest detail in the tiniest spot. He's the kid that sees something in the distance that no one else sees.
Here's an example. There is a certain red car from a certain CARS movie. We love him. There is a certain box in the rafters of the garage that got placed there late last night, for a certain holiday coming up soon, with a tiny, maybe one inch picture of that certain car showing, and Ryan, within seconds of being in the garage, pointed it out to me. "Look Mama, it's Lightning McQueen...WHAT is THAT up there????" (my response was something totally unbelievable as "it's just a box honey.") Seriously. This kid notices EVERYTHING.
Today, I finally reached my limit. I cannot take one more morning of Ryan waking up as soon as the morning sky turns from the dark of night to just the hint of morning light. (That's about 5 AM in case any of you were wondering) I nailed his black out blanket across the window more securely so NO light will get through. The difference is negligible. To the naked eye you cannot really tell there are 6 more nails in the curtain.
Ryan is currently crying in his room because he will not be able to see the light anymore.
Only MY child would have noticed that difference. I'm sorry kid, I'm sorry you got your hyper observant, OCD tendencies from me.
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