Thursday, July 28, 2011
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Monday, July 25, 2011
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Sam is in a toddler bed.
I know, I know. All you readers are shaking your heads, thinking, "It's about time. Who keeps their 3 year old in a crib this long? Who keeps their 3 year old, who is the size of a 4 year old, in a crib this long?"
Well, we do...did. We'd been debating about putting him in a big-boy bed, but neither of us were eager to reliniquish the crib. There's just a certain luxury of dropping your child into a crib and knowing he is confined there until morning.We have an old-school drop rail crib and one night, the side just fell right off, so there you have it. The decision was made for us.
He's been doing well, only fallen out once.
But his parents are having a hard time adjusting to Sam's newly found freedom. It's quite a jolt to be cleaning the kitchen and catch a glimpse of a quiet (too quiet) 3 year old, sitting on the couch, hands folded under his chin, smiling creepily at you. Aaugh! How long has he been there?!? Where did he get that creepy smile? (I need to stop watching scary movies about possessed children).
My heart just can't take it. Sam, though, is just proud of himself: "Mom, I sneaked you!"
In other news, Andie is back to her bad-sleepin' ways. And now, I'm worried that her midnight cries (or exasperated, slightly put-out yells of "Mom! Mom!") represent something ominous, like a recurrent seizure.
Joe attempted to ease my mind the other night. "Don't worry, honey. If she's crying, you know she's not having a seizure. Right?"
Great. So, now I have to worry when she's quiet, too.
I may never sleep again. Sigh.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Me: Hey! You're supposed to kick your legs, too. We're the boat motor. It doesn't go if we don't kick it.
Sam: Oh. Okay, Mom. (starts kicking).
Me: Sam, don't bend your knees so much. You have to point your toes. Look at Mom's legs.
Sam kicks again, like he's peddling a bike.
Me: Straight legs. Straight legs. Why are you bending your knees?
Sam: That's how God made them.
Saturday, July 09, 2011
Friday, July 08, 2011
Thursday, July 07, 2011
Around 1pm, Andie was fussy and ready for her long-overdue nap. She crawled into my lap and went to sleep. She started to feel feverish, so I tracked down Joe for a second opinion. He thought she had a fever, too, so we rounded up Sam to head home.
We put Sam's wet clothes on Andie's carseat to cool things down a bit and strapped them both in. Andie looked ready to fall asleep and I was looking forward to a little nap at home myself.
About ten minutes from our house, I looked back and Andie was having a seizure.
After eight years of being a nurse, I've seen seizures and I know what I am supposed to do. Protect the seizing person. Protect the airway. Yada yada yada.
However, it's one thing when you're the nurse. It's a completely different thing when you're the mother. Add in a concerned 3 year old brother who kept saying, "What's wrong with Andie? I want out of my carseat, too!" over and over again...let's just say my sanity was hanging by a thread. Thank goodness for Joe and his calm, deliberate personality.
He turned around and drove us quickly to the hospital. About halfway there, Andie stopped breathing and I took her out of her carseat to open her airway. Forunately, just opening her airway pinked her up right away.
We spent the next few hours at the ER, where Andie was diagnosed with a febrile seizure. We saw her pediatrician the next day, who was very reassuring about the whole thing. Her temperature was only 101.4, but he thought that the seizure was caused by a rapid increase in her temperature, precipitated by being a hot car. Unfortunately, this means she could very well have another seizure again and we should treat every fever she has with tylenol or motrin, even if the fever isn't very high.
So, THIS Fourth of July has been my least favorite Fourth so far. There's nothing like having your baby have a seizure to really dampen that holiday spirit.
Wednesday, July 06, 2011
Monday, July 04, 2011
Me: Oh, sorry. I fell asleep.
Lauren: I thought so. (sigh). Come down and get me.
I sleepily rode downstairs in an elevator full of glitzed up girls (I myself was wearing zero make-up, flip-flops, and an old sweater and running shorts. Put another check in the frumpy column). Everyone was just starting to go out, but it was WAAY past my bedtime. It was, like, midnight or even later.
Lauren took one look at me and said, "Um, we're going out tonight, aren't we?"
I begged her to let me go to bed, telling her it would be just like when we were younger and all used to sleep in the same bed at my Lola's house. She relented and got ready for bed. All the while, we caught up on the latest goings on our lives (since Lauren lives ALL THE WAY in San Diego--it's like living on another planet--I don't get to see her as often as I'd like. I last saw her at Christmas!).
Eventually, I looked at the clock and realized it was WAAAY past my bedtime, like two A.M.!! But, Lauren was clueless. She just kept talking and talking and talking. I was starting to doze off in between sentences. Finally, I said, "Uh, Lauren, do you need an Ambien or something?"
Lauren: No. No! You don't have to drug me to get me shut up. Just tell me you want to go to sleep. Jeez!
Me: I want to go to sleep, Lauren.
Lauren: Oh, fine.
Finally, finally, I got to go to sleep. And, it's a good thing I rested well...because Lauren INSISTED on going out the following night.