I need your help!

One thing that I do not do well with is ask for help. I have an amazing support group that cheers me on and has been offering me help for years that I have been to proud to take.

While Gunnar's life has not changed as of yet, there have been a vast world of opportunities opened to him. I have received a list of recommendations for his psychologist that should help ease some of his everyday struggles. I feel like doing this makes less time for me to focus on the other kids so I am not going to be too proud to ask for help with this.

So here is what I need help with...if you can donate your time...I love you for it...if you have suggestions that I can use to help make things easier...I love you for it...if you have resources or recommendations...I love you for it. Anything you can do to help us out would be of great help to make sure that we can get him on the path of healing as soon as possible...and not totally neglect the other kids.

Sleep Items: Since Gunnar doesn't sleep, and this is a common symptom of Autistic Children there have been suggestions. Weighted Blankets...uh...all the ones that I have looked at are like $300! If you can find one cheaper or know how to make one, and if so can help me make one (I am stitching challenged at the moment) Love Forever comes to mind. Laundry Baskets, for the time being Gunnar feels the most secure to sleep in one of these bad boys...thing is there is never 1 readily available.

Visual Aides :  I need help finding/making pictures, cutting, laminating, and attaching Velcro.
Structuring his Day : Visual Aides to help him know what is expected, see what is coming next. I have found a ton of PDF files on the Internet...they all have great photos...but each one seems to be missing something that would be helpful to him.
Reward System : Ideas on something inexpensive? Do you guys have something that works? How can I make this visually appealing?
Consequences : Pretty much the same as above.
Don't Forgets : Steps to common daily activities (Potty, Brushing Teeth, Washing)

Meal Planning : So many of you have already offered to help with our meals. Thank you sooooo much! We do have allergies though...All Nuts (Peanuts and Tree Nuts) Eggs, Mango, Processed Bananas. Please don't go out of your way...even if you want to come use the stuff we have on hand, and our electricity, and our pots and pans...we have tons of kids to do the dishes.

Play Groups : Your house...our house...the playground...he needs to practice socialization skills. Just please be prepared with the fact that he doesn't always realize his size, he has the social skills of a 2 year old, he is working on not hitting or screaming.

Sensory Objects : Squish Balls. Stress Balls. Fidget Objects (things that keep his hands busy)...make them buy them? Which is better? Any suggestions?

Kelsey, I am getting with the intake Nurse and then I'll let you know what I need help with from  you and your SPED Partners.

Thanks for all the encouraging words, support and help!

Golden Ticket

We have been patiently-ish waiting in line for 2 and a half years. We have been to countless doctors, been too numerous hospitals, too many clinics to count. We have had every battery of tests known to man performed. We have maxed out our insurance coverage. We have heard maybe's, definately's, I think's, I would consider's. We have lived in a system that has let our son slip further into the cracks. We have heard that he is abnormal, deaf, willful, retarded, faking. We have been accused of making him like this, making him pretend, accused of lying. We have been told that there is nothing wrong, it's all in our imagination.

Finally today, after the hard work of one clinical psychologist, that was reluctant to even test him because of all the other results that had pooled in, we finally have some answers. And the best part...they aren't guesses or maybe's...they are definates. They are going down in his medical records. Copy of this 11 page, 8 pt font, single spaced document is going to every single doctor that he has seen...and will ever see. We got told that it is not all in our heads, we aren't making it up, we aren't seeing things.

So we got the diagnosis today...it feels like we have been invited to this super secret party for the past few years. The thing about this party is...even if you  know a guy that can get you in...if you don't have the address to the party...that guy does yo know good. And because this party moves around a lot...because it is so super exclusive...if you don't get the super secret text...you can't get in...and even if someone forwards you that text...it's the ticket man...that little tiny piece of paper is the key. Today we got our Golden Ticket.

Sadly, he is "labeled"...but he is labeled with a word that we've suspected for years. A label that people have been too scared to put on him because he didn't exhibit all the classic signs. Medicine has come a long way in the past 30 months though...and we are beginning to open up this world a little bit more. But this label will pave a new road for him. This label entitles him to services from the state. This label entitles him to a better level of coverage from insurance agencies.

We received a list of Recommendations from his psychologist today. One to get him Medicaid Coverage to supplement his existing coverage from our private insurance. This means that all of his services could potentially be covered 100%. This would be a huge burden lifted off of our shoulders. It's always been a struggle to get him services because of what insurance would cover and what we could afford to cover. This, however, is not an easy task to get accomplished. It is exhausting  to go through all the forms and listen to the circles that you have to go in...one actually led me in a path that in the end I was speaking with the person that I called first.

We have to find a psychiatrist so that we can get him leveled out (hopefully not to medicated) so that he is not a danger to others or to himself. You don't even want to know the waitlist we got placed on for that.

We need to re-evaluate all of his current doctors to make sure that they have the specific skill set to deal with him adequately so that he can receive proper care.

We need to start looking for in home care for him and in home therapy.

We have a lot of things that we have to do...but first on my list is a hug.

A Simple Walk

I am doing my best to try and stay mobile despite my hip and lack of time, and also get the kids outside so that they aren't always stuck inside. We decided to take a walk to the local "convenience  mart" in search of some coveted Hostess Cupcakes and/or Twinkies so we could make a little extra holiday cash. I asked if anyone wanted to go with me, all four said yes...so off we went.

At first it was a lovely walk. There was only 1 story of how sad Mommy would be if someone got hit by a car because they weren't behaving (that's actually really good considering all 4 went and I only have 2 hands). The walk up there was peaceful. Everyone listened fairly well. No one bolted for the street. We were able to stay as a group, and as a result I didn't look like a caffeinated squirrel with Tourette's trying to keep track of all of them.

When we got to the store...there was a normal amount of whining that it wasn't fair that they couldn't get everything that they wanted...but it was subdued fairly easily. We gathered up our goods and the remaining 4 packages of Hostess Cupcakes and made our way to the cashier. They all listened to directions and waited quietly with grandpa hands by the front door.

It all when to crap when we went outside. There was no longer the threat of not getting anything because it was all in a bag. He immediately shot for the road, Wee One ran circles around Too Tall, and Bean, well she was oblivious and kept on walking towards our place. After I caught him, we were able to gain Bean's attention and wrangle Wee One into a somewhat orderly fashion and begin our route home. The only way that I can describe him is to liken him to an untrained Pit Bull (and that will be his name from now on). As I tried my best to hold all 3 bags and the paper while holding his hand as he lunged and pulled all the way up the street, I was trying to keep the others safe as well. Too Tall took over some of the bags half way home and that was a huge help, but I was still quickly loosing grip on Pit Bull.

3/4's  of  the way home we had to stop. Pit Bull had gotten too close to getting hit by a car for comfort. I decided that I needed to readjust my grip on him. I was also becoming increasingly aware of the eyes scorching holes in my back, as I am sure that they thought they may have been witnessing some kind of child abduction. I did my best to wrap my hand around his bicep to control some of the lunging and pull aways, and it seemed to work for a bit. Then he started to punch me in the hand, I now have a huge bruised welt on my right hand.

The end was in sight. I could see the front door, and, unfortunately, so could he. This...well this is when the screaming started. I know that I looked like I was abducting him now because the people that moved in yesterday came out of their home to ask if everything was ok. Too Tall said yes. Pit Bull called me a stupid bunny head...and they went back inside. It looks like I am going to need to take them some cookies and explain what they witnessed and moved across the street from.

We probably won't be going on another walk anytime soon, well at least not without another set of adult hands. However, now that we are home, he has settled into being a different child. I even got a nosey, an apology, and a snuggle.

There was no call (Part II)

There was no call...because there was no wrong on his part. It turns out that Bean and the Tall One didn't see anything, because nothing happened. As it also turns out everything that he was accused of was the Bus Driver's nephew.

When they got off the bus yesterday it was a different driver dropping them off. The New Driver wouldn't allow the "nephew" off until his mother had been brought to the stop. She informed the Mom what her son had done and blamed it on another student. She then proceeded to tell her that when the Regular Driver resumes her route in 1-2 weeks, they will no longer be able to ride the bus to and from school.

Late this afternoon, I did receive a phone call. It was the principal calling to apologize for the accusations against him, and that they were deeply sorry.

I actually feel kind of bad. I was convinced that he had done something, that we were going to get a phone call from the school, and I was trying to figure out how to get him to school and still get to work on time. What he was accused of wasn't out of the realm of normal behavior for him, and I feel terrible that I didn't trust him no matter how much evidence was piled up against him.

The Evaluation

I can now say that a full psychological evaluation for a 5 year old is intense. It is time consuming. It is draining, emotionally and physically. It makes you look at things in a different light.

It has been a very long ordeal :

Week 1 -
     Make the call for additional help. We were at our wits end with the way things had escalated since school started. Yay we made it onto the waiting list for intake!

Week 2 -
     We waited. And we waited...we called and left a desperate message to get moved up on the list...and we waited some more.

Week 3 -
     We got a call! Yippee...a call to let us know that someone in intake would be calling to schedule an appointment in the next 48-72 hours.

(Time Out)
  At this point...we were really beginning to worry about our decision to go with the firm that we did. 3 weeks to get a call saying that someone was going to call us. I made up my mind that if they didn't call in 48 hours we were going to start looking at other options.

Week 4 -
     In the final hour, intake called. It was not a receptionist or an assistant...it was the actual intake clinician that was calling us. Impressive. We set an appointment to come in for an initial consultation and observation.

Week 5 -
     We met with the clinician, and, boy, did she get the full brunt of him. I decided to strategically set up our arrival time so that he wouldn't have time to adjust to his surroundings. Typically we arrive a goo 30-45 mins prior to any appointment for "he" so that he can get used to his surrounding and work out all his anxiety and energy. That day we arrive 5 mins early, had filled out and faxed back the paperwork to expedite the process and we were ready to go. We were ushered into a 5' x 7' room. He literally bounced off the walls. He did a head stand on the edge of a couch. He climbed on top of her desk, knocked over her computer. He screamed. He spoke his gibberish. He voiced his frustration with being there. I was asked why we were there. What we hoped to change. Would we be willing to medicate? Would we be willing to isolate him while getting the dosage right? Had he hurt himself? Had he hurt anyone else? Had he had a full evaluation before? What testing had he received? How recent was that testing?
     I feel like we had more questions than answers when we left. I felt horrible for not taking him sooner. I cried, a lot.
     We left knowing that we weren't imagining what was going on. We learned that we had made a lot of concessions in our lives to keep him stable. We learned that he needed to learn to make adjustments to cope. We learned that he didn't neatly fit in any given box. We learned that our insurance covered a full evaluation (yippee). And we learned that we would be meeting with a full fledged psychologist  who would be calling, in the very near future.

Week 6 -
     I met with Ms. J to answer some really basic questions about him in her office, without him. Why hadn't a full eval been done before? What meds did he take? Where has he been to be evaluated  What had been ruled out? Did he have any physical impairments? We discussed how long, in time frames and averages, the evaluation would take. We talked about what would be discussed, that I would have to sit outside and wait for him. I signed a ton of disclosures saying I consented to testing, leaving him alone, picking him up on time, etc. Then we set up the next 2 appointments.

Week 7 -
     He met with Ms. J and I was given a multitude of multiple choice questions to answer...and oh goodie...a stack for his brand new teacher too! Some of the questions seemed redundant, some felt impossible to answer. He hid under the table the entire first session. I met with a clinician to talk about somethings that the law requires in the way of accommodations for him and what the school is required by law to expect from him, and I set up an appointment for myself. They noticed that I seemed to be taking a lot of the burden on my self. That I had a lot of blame festering inside of me. Things were coming to a boiling point and that was why I was asking for help for him.

Week 8 -
    This week went better I feel. He drew some pictures. He answered some questions about feelings. He answered some questions about bullies at the school. How he feels at school came up. What he does at home. Does he get in a lot of trouble? He only hid under the table the entire time. I turned in our part of the paperwork, and we scheduled a new appointment.

Week 9 -
    More of the same. This week he put together puzzles and finish patterns. They talked about friendship. She tried to get him to make up a story.

Week 10 -
     This was the last week he went to see Ms. J. They finished up the patterns that he was too frustrated to do. They played with some toys. They played pretend. We set up a time for me to come the next week and complete a parent interview. I was warned that this would take 2-12 hours and needed to be completed in one session.

Week 11 -
     5 hours. That's how long my parent interview lasted. It would have been awesome if I had been advised to take the baby book for him so that we could look at milestones like first words, when he walked, first sentence, potty trained. There were more abstract questions like do you feel he acts strange? No he acts like him...How do we help him cope? He does he self soothe? What facial expressions does he make? Are they appropriate? Does he talk to strangers? Does he seem to recognize people? And so on and such forth. It was grueling. It made me realize that sometimes we make concessions for him...like we always start conversations with questions for him to get him to speak. We automatically abide by rituals so we can control outbursts. We accepted a long time ago things in him that aren't in the realm of normal. I realized that bringing him places early so that he could adapt...well it prevented everyone from getting a full picture of what was going on earlier.

We will see where all this has landed us in the next 2-4 weeks as all of the evaluations are scored and processed. So I will be on the lookout for yet another call to come about him...hopefully we get some answers soon.

There was no call

Yesterday, my husband and I were all geared up for a very specific phone call from  school. We were really hoping to get the final version of what happened at the bus stop a couple afternoons ago. I went to work and had my phone on the quietest setting that could still be considered audible. Justin set an alarm for every hour to check his, but....there was no call.

I don't know why we didn't get a call. Did they decide it wasn't a big deal? Did the conversation ever happen? Did the bus driver decide not to "turn him in" so to speak? Are they going to call on a different day?

One thing I do know is that I can't just call and say, "Hey, so 2 of my kids say that there brother did something really bad at the bus stop on Tuesday afternoon...are you going to be talking to him?" We don't want to draw unwanted attention.

I do really want to know what happened though. I just can't believe after all that gearing up that there was no call.

Somewhere in the Middle

I don't know all the details yet, but apparently he will be going to the principal's office tomorrow. Bean says he flipped someone the bird, Tall as me says he pushed someone, he says he got pushed and did nothing. One thing that I know is that he is normally not calm enough to do nothing when he is pushed...so I know something happened.

After tucking the brood into bed, I decided that I would ask their dad what happened...is this a tall tale to provoke him or is there some truth to it? He couldn't tell me what happened. My husband decided that since the bus stop is 12 yards from the front door...he's not going to be bothered to go anymore.

In fact when I asked him why after the scare we had 2 years back, he hung up on me. So I called back thinking...obviously we got disconnected...cell service isn't reliable on that side of town. He was really angry at the idea of going to the bus stop to pick up the kids.

Not only was the fiasco from a ways back where the school called because the kids failed to arrive. Not only do we live by a very busy street and intersection. Don't forget the near misses from when someone is too busy to stop for the bus...a kid almost got hit last month. Not only is he easily provoked and needs that extra bit of supervision...but his bus driver isn't the most attentive person in the world so whenever something does happen it's so lopsided it's like having a 6th grader and a toddler play on the teeter totter...it just isn't evenly matched.

So now that I have vented, I feel a bit better. Still really angry that he doesn't see why it's important to me, and how he can throw my perceived fear for their safety back in me face...but better to get it out than let it fester.  *Twitch*

All I am asking is that we meet somewhere in the middle...so you don't want to go to the bus stop to mingle with other parents...fine...I get it...you only speak 1 language fluently. So instead stand at the front door, or even just look out the front window. But this whole it's whatever thing isn't cutting it, you don't like to follow the rules...I get it...but dang...it's our kids. I don't think I can handle another call from the school saying that he has done something again...or heaven forbid that something has happened...I just can't do it.

Making Bubbles

Since I haven't been sleeping well lately...I crashed on the couch this afternoon vegging with the hubs. I don't know what time it was when I crashed...but he didn't wake me when he left for work at 4:30 and as a result I slept until about 6:30 underneath a pile of little boys while the Bean worked on her clay sculpting in the kitchen (she is amazing at snowmen and turtles now).

When I got up, the boys got up. The fighting started in the dining room and quickly escalated to a flash dash up the stairs for the Bean. Now he is upstairs making bubbles in the tub (not with his mouth) just to annoy his sister...

Next up Sharpie Tattoo Party!

There are Things

As horribly as he is coping to all the changes in his life, I cannot honestly say that I am doing much better. I really thought that we were getting a handle on it all in the past year. It seemed as though we were starting to settle into routines, having a bit of normalcy or at least a sense of it. Now that school has started, for lack of a better term, there is a whole lot of crazy in our lives right now. Every single time, without fail, we start to see a bit of progress there is a tsunami that comes and just washes it all out to sea.

New things are setting him off. The collar of his jacket, it's choking him. His eczema in in full swing, so him bum is a rather large scab of sorts. It's the end of the world if you walk out/through a door without sticking your tongue out at him. Chores as simple as wiping up the juice that dribbled on the floor take hours because he swears that the spot on the wall is talking to him. Homework assignments are almost a no go, as he gets so frustrated when his letters don't turn out the way he sees them in his head.

Things I thought that we were past are setting him off. His brother sat too close to him on the floor to watch a movie. A friend bumped into him while playing football. Bed wetting.  Running naked through the house because his clothes are too itchy or tight.

I am cautiously optimistic that the path we are on now, might be another piece to the puzzle...we seem to accumulated a lot of pieces, but none of them fit together at all. I feel like we are putting together a puzzle that is literally just cardboard...no picture to reference, no illustration on the pieces...trying to cram it all together until they kind of fit before time runs out. Any success that we have...I fear pushing for more. I am afraid that it's all going to come crashing down without provocation.

I am terrified that these struggles are not only hurting him, but that they are hurting the other kids. As though as he is, his older brother is that much more sensitive. His sister has her own struggles academically that she pushes really hard to overcome. And his little brother, I am scared that he is going to think that all of this is normal. I am scared that they feel like they are in a damaged home...and I mean more than the holes in the wall from him throwing something, I mean all the anger, the battles over nothing, the different sets of rules for him and them, the exhaustion, the attention missing because it cannot honestly always be afforded to them, and the feeling that I don't love them as much.

We are trying to cope with our new normal. I am working 11 hours a day away from home so we can afford insurance to cover the buffet of services, therapy and drugs (that he will need) that the state does not pay for. I no longer spend time with friends away from my home, because I am ushering him around to 2 different therapy sessions a week (could be more soon) at $50 bucks a visit. I come home to housework and a husband either running out the door for his job or heading for a catnap. Either way...when I am home, I am the biggest target of his rage, frustration, and discomfort. I am the first person he screams at even when I have just walked in the door. I am the first person he hits when he gets frustrated with a task whether I asked him to complete it or someone else did. I am the first person he spits on because his food tastes weird on his tongue. On the other hand I am the first person to get a "hug" when he is sad. I am the first person he asks to put his cream on when things get too irritating. Mine is the first bed he visits when his pillow sounds too loud like the ocean.

Since we started seeing the new Therapy Group we have learned a lot. He fits in a lot of boxes such as... Pervasive Development Disorder - Not Otherwise Specified (PDD-NOS), Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD/ADHD), Sensory Processing Disorder, and Bipolar. We have been through 5 weeks of rigorous testing with him. Justin and I have answered 70 pages worth of Scan tron Sheets of questions (I never want to have to distinguish between Always, Usually, Often, Sometimes, Occasionally  or Never...ever again). His teacher had an additional package to fill out, though not as lengthy as ours. Next week I have a 4 hour interview with his psychologist in which I need to tell her when he reached certain milestones and at what points we started noticing problems. Hopefully over the course of the next few weeks (fingers crossed) we will have some definitive answers and be able to start working towards some permanent solutions.


Until we have those answers, there are things that you never ever in a million years want to think about, and we have to start thinking about some of these things and it is hard.

What kind of life do I want for my son?
How far am I willing to go to get him treatment? Drugs, Therapy, In Home Care, Outpatient Therapy, Committal?
How much of that can we afford?
How is he effecting the other kids?
How many bridges will we burn to get him what he needs?
Is there a permanent solution for this?
At what point would we stop seeking treatment? How far are we willing to push?
What life will he lead as an adult?
If something were to happen tomorrow, in 5, 10, 20, or 30 years how would he be taken care of?

Yet through all of this, people still ask...would you do it all again? If you could change 1 thing about him, what would it be? what were you thinking having that many kids? What made him this way? To those questions, I always answer:

I would do it all over again in a heartbeat.

The only wish I have for him is to have the opportunity to experience happiness in his own skin. In my mind all I see, even through all of this, is a loving little boy. I still see this when all you see is a manic little demon running naked past my living room window. I still see that loving boy when he is kicking and screaming and hitting me. I see this because I know he doesn't want this anymore than I want it for him. I see this because I haven't walked away since it stopped being rainbows and kittens. I still see my baby boy who couldn't quite get comfortable in a Boppy that still managed to look up and smile at me.

I was thinking that my family had a lot of love to give. He may test my patience every single moment of every single day, but I still love him. Yes, I beg for answers. Yes, I beg for things to get better. But no matter what I love him, and I make sure every single day that I see him that he knows that and I will continue to do that until my days are over. There are a lot of kids who don't have these challenges that don't get half the love that he does. He was lucky to be born into our family, and though they might not always feel this way...his siblings are lucky to have him around to teach them compassion and see unbiased love. We still have a lot of love to give

Genetics made him this way. Cracks in the system exasperated the situation. There isn't anything that we could have done differently while he was in the womb, or when he was an infant,toddler or otherwise. He was born this way.

No matter how well intentional...you should know...those questions hurt. How could you think that I would want to change my child...the hand we were dealt...who hasn't wished for a different hand...but how dare you question my love for my child, the size of my family, or accuse me of doing something in a round about kind of way. Those are the bridges that I am willing to burn.

As a special needs parent...I don't want anything different for my child than you do. I have made mistakes, I could use a little extra patience, a little extra joy...but I have learned to do infinitely more with what I do have, and I will keep pushing until he has more, because he deserves it. They all deserve it.

Mother of Meltdowns

Every Mom knows that eventually there will be a time in their child's life that they just meltdown, throw a tantrum...go berserk. There will be fits of anger, crying, kicking and screaming.

Tonight...we needed to go to the store for a few things so I took the boys up to the corner market to get them...we walked because I thought it would help them spend some extra energy. On the way there I prepared them for the fact that we were going to get what we needed and no extras. Gunnar and Odin both seemed to grasp that concept.

We got to the store, gathered up what we needed and went to the checkout. We know the cashier fairly well...she knows the boys names, and we chat from time to time at my work. She offered the boys a tic tac, Gunnar's favorite candy...to which they caved and said yes in unison. Then Gunnar asked if we could buy some tic tacs to which I said no.

First came the tears...crocodile tears. These tears are designed to make your heart melt and thusly your brain to say yes.

Second the foot stomping...Since the tears didn't work, well, you left me choice but to publicly shame you into saying yes.

I did not cave in. I took him firmly by the hand and did my best to start the walk back to the house. The good walk down a busy street...with a child that was now chanting and screaming TIC TACS at the top of his lungs.

Then came the lunging...like an untrained pit bull on a leash...it was all I could do to keep him from pulling us all into the street. Thankfully, Odin was merrily playing in the grass as we walked down the street.

We stopped, I tried to compose myself...the screaming got louder. I tried to lift him...he has dead weight down pat now.

I managed to drag him to the corner of our street before he started trying to throw himself on the ground. I did my best to do the, "Well I'm walking away" strategy, but with Odin...it was difficult. I ushered Odin halfway across the street and told him to go get Daddy quickly.

Justin apparently was in the shower...so I had to endure on my own. I lost it...I started crying, Odin was crying, Gunnar was screaming...I just wanted this to be over.

After a lot of pulling, screaming, and finally a dead lift...I got Gunnar safely in the house. He went berserk...looks like a tornado was isolated to my first floor. He picked up everything that he could lift to throw, crumpled up bills, tore up homework...he was just as destructive as he could be.

5 minutes later, the tears had dried, the screaming stopped...it was as if nothing had happened. He said that he was better and then gave Odin a hug.

What is that?!

I can...nope don't want to do this

Every time I start a new vacation...I think to myself...why don't I just stay home, why can't it be Justin's turn to go back to work full time. I could totally do this all the time. I love my kids, I want a clean house, I could do a little something on the side to help make ends meet...how hard could it be? It's so hard that I am considering going to work early tomorrow.
  It starts off blissful... You have this whole routine planned out...we're going to go to the park everyday...that'll wear them out. We're going to clean up their rooms, and then I'll teach them to be organized and stuff. We'll practice our handwriting. And you know what...they will behave.
Then...
  The trip to the park launches into a fight...and someone will have to pee. Then you'll need to haul all 4 kids back (if you're lucky enough to get your "I'm 10, I have a phone, so I am too cool to be caught at the park" kid to tag along with you)...of which at least 2 will not be ready to go...to there will be running from a need to pee and screaming for a will to stay...and there will be yelling and almost tears from you.
  You'll spend the whole day cleaning and organizing their room...they'll recite the new rules of barbies go here...and transformers should stay in one piece...and we'll keep our toys off the floor so you don't trip on them...I love you, Mommy...but you will have to turn your back eventually for 15 seconds...and when you turn back...it will look like you never went in there. Every single belonging that they could muster up the will and strength to lift will have moved, been taken apart, thrown on the floor, or a combination of the before mentioned.
  Oh and that handwriting...well that handwriting...that's a fruitless effort. What with the you can just type that and it'll spell check it generation. Not even worth getting into that here.

  So you will lower your expectations...
   You lighten the load...Whoever gets up before the alarm goes off will get to go to the park. Whoever hides their toys from Mommy the best will help her maintain her Schmidt. Whoever can remember how to write his or her name without the use of a guide, computer or spell checker on their phone...well they won't have to do it again until school starts!
  This goes a bit better because...
   No one gets to go to the park since no one gets up before 10 am. So you save yourself the trouble of renting a port a john to take with you and the argument with your "I'm 10, I have a phone, so I am too cool to be caught at the park" kid.
   You won't loose your cool because all their toys now fit under their bed...only a few pieces hang out into your sight...but let's be honest...you don't have the energy to fight so you will just pretend that you don't know what's going on.
   Your older 2 have retained the ability to spell their names...but the 3rd one...well he apparently no longer has vowels, his name is now "GNNNNNNR." Which I guess in a way may be all he has heard you call him that past few days through gritted teeth. So we will also call that one a win.
 See how much smoother things are going now? You have given up your standards...so there are no bars to be set, so expectations to be achieved...and without expectations...there is no disappointment.

 But then...
   You'll have a few days left at home and you will look back at what you achieved while at home with the barbarians...nothing. You won't want to remember those lofty expectations that you had set at the beginning of your vacation, but they will creep back up into your rear-view mirror. The only thing that you will have left to rest your laurels on will be that...everyone survived. On the last day, when you are trying to pack lunch for the kids the next day, you will reach into a drawer fully expecting to find a can opener to open the chicken for the chicken salad sandwiches tomorrow...and you will come out empty handed. You will look around the kitchen and you will think to yourself...look at that...Brenna emptied the dishwasher all by herself, could use some work on putting them away, but hey they aren't in the dishwasher any longer. Jaxom cleaned the floors...wow, he could use a little reminding that the rag does not belong on top of the dishes that Brenna took out of the dishwasher, but hey...he mopped up the mess on the floor. Wow...only a few bumps and bruises today...and no trips to the ER! WAHOO! Then you will call your husband, and through your tears you will explain that despite your children's best efforts they were unable to locate the can opener in the TV or on the ceiling, so exhausted from all the effort they went to bed. You will also explain that all the dishes that Brenna took from the dishwasher, that are now in the sink did not contain the can opener either. Then you will apologize for calling his end of the deal easy. He will respond with a leave me a note for when I get home so that I can finish making their lunches...and try to get some rest. Things will go back to normal in no time.

The Morning Shuffle

Mommy wakes at 6. Mommy is showered,dressed, and ready at 6:30. Mommy packs lunches by 6:45. Mommy wakes up Brenna at 6:50. Mommy wakes up Jaxom and Gunnar at 7:00. Jaxom and Gunnar are dressed and downstairs no later than 7:10. Jaxom makes his breakfast. Gunnar puts on his shoes. Gunnar eats breakfast. Jaxom gobbles down breakfast...chew now taste later kind of gobble. Jaxom gets on his back pack and shoes then stands by the door...it's now 7:25. Brenna meanders downstairs...hair still a fuss. Brenna sits at the table to eat breakfast. Gunnar grabs his back pack and stand at the door...it's not 7:28. Brenna goes back upstairs to brush her hair and find(!) socks. The boys head out to the bus stop...it's 7:30. Mommy heads out with them...7:32. The bus crests the speed bump at the end of the street...7:37. Brenna runs out the front door at 7:38 and jumps right on the bus. I ask myself 3 things every morning during the school year... 1. How can it take her soooooo long to get ready when she already dresses the night before? 2. What are the boys not doing that they can shave so much off their time getting ready? 3. How many times walking to school will it take for Brenna to get in gear? And that folks, those 98 minutes is why I dearly miss caffeine.

Wonderful Friends!

I have such wonderful friends and family! I recently put it out in the universe that I need to have an "elective" surgery that my insurance will not pay for...I am about half way there but have fallen stagnant as of late. I absolutely adore how all of you have chipped in...unwanted stuff for a yard sale, gift cards for my groceries so I can save up more on my own, and proceed parties. Thank you so much...

To have one spot to put everything that has been raised, I have created a Chip In page (see the widget), thank you guys so much for your support!

First Day Jitters for G-gers

Gunnar lunged face first into Kindergarten today...woohoo.

Today all the parents of Kindergartners attended their first half day of school with them. We rode the bus today, had snack together, and sang song while all the Mommies and Daddies filled out paperwork (what fun). At the end of Gunnar's first day of K, we had a bit of a mishap as he decked another kid with a plastic cup while they were having a sword fighting adventure while also playing a rousing game of house.

We were told not to interfere as much as possible, it was hard, but it was accomplished...despite a quick gasp and cringe, the other Mom and I tried to leave well enough alone and let the teacher take over. No one cried, no one died...they hugged and moved on...then we allowed ourselves a sigh of relief.

Today was only a half day...and this has already started...no where to go but up!

For more on how we handled ourselves...please visit:

http://www.squidoo.com/ripplesofbania-hitting

Moving on

Arwen Grace was due on 11/23/2012, but she arrived in June resulting in a heart breaking loss to my family. We were all excited to have a little girl join our already large brood of 3 boys and a single girl. We were making plans, buying clothes and bottles, and making room in our busy home. Complications arose in late June with some bleeding, then I started leaking fluid. We had all hoped that with some rest and relaxation we would be able to hold on for a few more week to get her to a viable age outside of the womb. Unfortunately, our best hopes didn't work out and at 19 weeks we gained another Angel.

It has been 2 months since we lost Arwen, and most of the time we are ok. Other times, not so much. When we got pregnant lots of my other girlfriends were announcing as well that they were expecting a wee one in the world and soon. While I am so excited and happy to see all of their beautiful babies, a part of me still hurts to know that I never got to know my little one, never got to see her smile or grow up. The loss is still fresh enough that we cry sometimes, but it is starting to heal.

As of late we have been removing some things that we no longer need from the house to sell, mostly to clear out some space, but also to fund a surgery that our insurance company considers elective. My husband and I have decided to sell the clothing that we had purchased for Arwen since we never used it. While I was packing it into a box for next weekend, it all came rushing back, all the hurt, sense of failure, missing the kicks in my belly. I thought that I had moved past all of that weeks ago, but I guess that I hadn't.

I am lucky enough to have an amazing support group that I can reach out to at any time. We have all been there and they seem to really understand what I am going through. It helps because then I know that I am not alone, there is a proverbial shoulder to cry on, and ladies I thank you for that.

I am learning though that moving on means that you have to start to let go, let go of the pain, the what if's, but that it doesn't mean that you have to forget. Arwen Grace will always be in my heart and in my mind, I don't have to let go of the thought of her.

How We Roll...

Lots of changes are happening in the Bania house this week and next :

This week...

Mommy stayed home. The house was a mess from summer vacation, and while it will never be up to the standards of most...a lot of cleaning has taken place this week...we have 4 storage totes of clothes for Yard Sale, countless bags of broken toys sent to the dump, bedrooms organized and boxed for storage under beds, and the living room toys tamed. There have been mistakes made...Justin took the 2nd box away from the kittens...who took to peeing in the laundry...at least it was already dirty (? bright side ?). Mommy made the older 3 get up on time, with the exception of today when even Mommy didn't get up on time. She also made them practice making their beds, eat breakfast and get to the "bus" on time (7:33 was our best time so far).

Mommy has tended broken fingers, taken sick kitties to the vet, done all of Brenna's laundry (every last article of clothing), earned $75 in surveys, taken an energy assessment, blogged 3 times, been to the urologist, booked a Ortho appointment (soon to be 2), attended 3 Open Houses, taken 3 tours of 2 schools, bagged school supplies, labeled said supplies, sharpened 144 pencils (the school requires them this way), picked up 4 prescriptions, dropped off 3 Allergy Action Plans, made lunch everyday, refereed 3 fist fights between the boys, explained what a cavity is, explained why a 10 year old is not old enough to have a baby and why it's not cool to pawn said hypothetical child off on their parents, 20 loads of boy clothes, went grocery shopping utilizing $25 in $5 gift cards and $214 in coupons with an additional 5% off (thank you Target), made 2 weeks worth of Lunch and Dinner Meal Plans, and had a second ultrasound with the Urologist. Tomorrow holds quite a lot more.

(I can't believe that was only 2 sentences, is that grammatically correct?)

Let's back up to the 3 Open Houses though.

Gunnar will be entering Kindergarten, SCARY! He will have the most talented and tenured K teacher in the district which puts my mind to ease a bit, but not completely. He will be mainstreamed which scares me more. A miracle happened during his Open House...he picked up toys without being nagged for 3 days. Who knew, your child really is different at school.

Brenna will be entering 3rd Grade! Huge! New school for her this year, so she has some anxiety. Super excited about the fact that her teacher was once Jaxom's 2nd grade teacher, and I loved her then. Said teacher also really excited that she gets to have Brenna in her Homeroom this year! Brenna will be entering the Gifted and Talented Program this year and is also considering Girl Scouts. Yikes! Work load!

Jaxom will be entering 5th Grade and this will be his last year at his current school. He is soooo lucky though because his 4th Grade teacher is now teaching 5th Grade and so he will continue to have her for homeroom. Even better they were able to maintain the same class as in the 4th Grade +2 students. This could make for an easier transition because they already know the teacher and won't have to relearn her way and style. He is actually considering the Cub Scouts...more to come on that.

But my legs are screaming after the Open Houses...my hip gave out twice at Jaxom and Brenna's school as we managed to make 20 laps looking for their class rooms. And since we had Odin and Gunnar as well...there were a lot of water and potty breaks mixed in there. It took us 3 hours to finish a tour of Meet and Greets for the 2 of them.

Next Week...

Mommy will still be home. Monday, I hope that we will all be able to relax for a little while and just breathe. Tuesday, we will put Brenna and Jaxom on the bus, and then I will ride the next bus to school with Gunnar and spend the day with him and watch him through his routine. The remainder of the week...all 3 will get on the bus together and I will follow to school since I will be attending the remaining of the 1st week with Gunnar for half days as required by the school to transition him into mainstreaming.

For the 2nd half of the days next week...I will be focusing on the kitchen, our bedroom and the attic. Hopefully I will have finished gathering up all the goodies for the yard sale and bring in a hefty sum (wishful thinking) to go towards my surgery.

Jelly Sandwich Debate

Having kids is costly. Having 4...well it's astronomical.

Normally every 3-4 months we will have an argument about who is going to eat what, I don't want it, it's not my favorite. The past few days, however, have been an exceptional challenge with Brenna's eating "habits". She hasn't wanted to eat a morsel put in front of her...which led to pretty much the same argument for 3 days in a row.

Me: Jaxom, Brenna, Gunnar, Odin....LUNCH
   You can hear the horde come running from the couch, down the stairs, from under the stairs, and a toilet flush.
Me: Please sit at the table. Sit at the table...which part did you not understand...Sit? At? The? or Table? well then SIT AT THE TABLE!
   You can hear the chairs what once had rubber stoppers grind along the stone floor...almost in unison.
Me: Odin, Grape or Strawberry?
Odin : I don't want jelly
Me: You just want bread?
Odin: No, I want pasta.
Me: Well...you get a sandwich. Grape or Strawberry?
Odin: Strawberry
Me: Gunnar, Grape or Strawberry?
Gunnar: Both.
Me: Brenna, Grape or Strawberry?
Brenna: I don't want a sandwich.
Me: You're not hungry?
Brenna: NO, I want pasta
Me: You get a sandwich. Grape or Strawberry?
Brenna: I want pasta.
Me: Well that's not how this works...you don't get a choice on what you eat...just the flavor. Grape or Strawberry.
Brenna: I want pasta.
Me: (remember to breathe)Grape, Strawberry or nothing?
Brenna decides to pout.
Me: Jaxom, Grape or Strawberry?
Jaxom: Aw sandwiches?
Me: How long have you been sitting there?
Jaxom: I dunno
Me: Did you come in with the others?
Jaxom: yeah
Me: Did you hear what was said with Odin and Brenna?
Jaxom: yeah (with a less subtle whine)
Me: Grape or Strawberry
Jaxom: Awww

So I decide to walk away...

Brenna: Can Jaxom and me have something different?
Me: No, I am not making 5 meals! I am not making enough for 6 only for your father and I to eat it, and I am certainly not indulging you to make a choice of your own that I just told your other brothers no too. Help me understand why it is that your younger 2 brothers can accept that they are not going to win this argument...but you 2 haven't!
Jaxom: Grape
Brenna: I wanted pasta
Me: Jaxom, come and get your plate.
Brenna: where's mine?
Me: where's your  what?
Brenna: My food?
Me: The offer expired while you were whining about pasta.
Brenna: Can I have strawberry?

I applaud Justin, he has had to endure this conversation every single day for summer break. I don't know how he does it.

This Summer has been a JOURNEY

This summer has been difficult.

This summer started with a BANG with the Riot Girls ringing in our Dirty Thirty at Ocean City...that was a blast. Jaxom and Brenna passed 4th and 2nd Grade. Jaxom also aced his SOL tests...advanced placement in all 3! Brenna was accepted into the Gifted and Talented Program. Yay for super smart kids!

Just after school let out we lost our baby at 19 weeks gestation. It is still hard to talk about, especially since so many of our other friends were expecting...it's been a summer of reminders. However, this loss has opened up discussion around a procedure that has been recommended from many of my doctors. We decided after Odin that we were done so we had a procedure that hasn't been working as well as it was advertised because I have a scarring condition that prevented it from working properly. Believe it or not...I still have holes in my back from the stitches they put in during my corrective surgery...15 years ago! So now we are currently saving up money for a surgery that the insurance won't pay for.

In July, Gunnar went for testing to see if he would be mainstreamed or placed in special education. Turns out they would like to mainstream his education. Not only has this been keeping me up at night, but Gunnar flipped out because he won't be in the special class. And by flip out I mean...driving down the road he unbuckled punched me in the head and started throwing papers around the car while I tried to get off the road as quickly as I could. When I pulled over to get him back in his seat...he locked me out for 30 minutes. Fun stuff...we still aren't talking about school, even though it is a week away, because he still remembers that he is not in the special class and kinda flips out.

In August, we lost the Gold Van. While driving back from South Riding, her oil pump failed, the engine seized and before I could pull off the road, we threw a rod. We sold her parts, and feel like we helped out so many other car families looking to save their car...we couldn't save her, but she lives on in so many others. Thankfully, we still have Uncle John's van, it is what we were relying on for groceries and now so much more.

August still isn't over though, I developed a blood infection from a kidney infection...another complication from Odin being born. Love that kid, but he did a number on my abdomen. I am feeling much better, much better. I just finished my required course of antibiotics, and I will be visiting a urologist this week to talk options. Oooh speaking of medical this week, I will also be getting a second opinion on my hip. The first Orthopedic is suggesting a hip replacement, but my PCP still thinks that this can get better with PT and Cortisone shots...and I want to believe her. I am too young for a hip replacement. I am too young for a hip replacement.

This past week has been the toughest though. The kids are getting antsy...they have been home too long. They have pushed every last button Justin and I have, trampled on every nerve...every last nerve. As a result they were banished to their rooms today, and they were kept exceptionally busy with chores so that they would stay out of the way of the grown ups.

This coming week we will be visiting Jaxom and Brenna's school for their teachers and Gunnar's for his, running back and forth to last minute doctor's appointments...that will be a squeeze, getting back into a routine, starting a new routine with Gunnar, and doing a clean sweep of the house. Also I will be doing my best to keep my fears of Gunnar starting this new chapter of his life buried deep down inside. Oh yeah, and I will also be turning 30 on Monday...YIKES!

So welcome back!

I am sure that there is an unwritten rule for this...

Mommy is going on vacation. Mommy is not taking Daddy, and no Mommy is not taking any of you. Mommy needs a break from all of you! Yes there will be a constant barrage of phone calls and little kicks in my belly to remind me that you are all still here, but Mommy is going to try really hard and drink a few Virgin Delicious thingies and forget about responsibility while she flaunts what little she still has left (that in reality no one wants to see) for a weekend of bliss.

Insert the name of the unwritten rule or law that dictates that all that can go wrong will go wrong. The unwritten rule or thingy that dictates that every possible scenario to block Mommy from having a moment of bliss will happen in the next 24 hours.

I was called at work because there was an emergency and I was so excited to leave that I didn't see past the sarcasm in my husband voice when he said "I think she might need stitches." In fact everything else was blocked out as I frantically tried to find my car keys and sprint for the door.
     It turned out that Brenna at some point LAST NIGHT had managed to find a wad of gum to become entangled in her hair. And since Brenna didn't wake up the first 4 times this morning, she didn't brush her hair so she didn't notice it was in her hair until she went to fuss with it on the bus. Le sigh...you would have thought that the world had come to a screeching halt when she got home apparently because nothing could or would be done until Mommy got home to take it out...and get those scissors away from her~ So 45 mins and 1/2 bottle of Olive Oil and all is right with the world.

We missed Gunnar's appointment with the behavior therapist because of this. Gunnar was happy though...he didn't really want to go...he never wants to go. I have to send the co pay for the booked appointment and a cancellation fee. There goes part of my party fund. =(

Since I have been sick all week, I decided to fit in a quick visit to the grocery store. What's wrong Odin? Oh you are barfing all over yourself in the back of the car. Fantastic...but I want food. Great you feel better...well let's take you to Nanma's house and then Mommy will take everyone else to the store...mmmK? Alright. Here we are...why are you making that faaaa......ce? Dammit. So home we went and Ramen Noodles were had by all.

So I went upstairs to finish packing...and my suitcase that I had packed the night before...no where to be found...why because Gunnar got into it and exploded the shampoo everywhere. Try to hold it together, Mommy, try to keep it together. So now I don't have time to get more shampoo so I scrounged up all the shampoo samples I could find in the house and stuck them in a ziplock bag...and I am washing all the clothes...and fantastic...didn't remember to rinse first so there is soap all over my floor.

So as I am sitting here typing all this out...I am waiting for Jaxom's fiasco to hit...it will probably be a real humdinger too. Hopefully it can wait til I get back...please wait til I get back...I am already dreaming of the sunshine and the ocean breeze...LALALALALALALALALALALALALALA invisible rule...I can't hear you!

So. It's been a long while

Well, I apologize, I know that it has been a while, well to be more exact a F-ing long time. I am sorry, I have just had a little more than normal going on...and it was just enough to keep me away.

I am breaking the Intertron Silence today. I need to get it all out, and there is no better place than here.

It started as an awesome day off. The first day off from work in weeks, weeks, yes, weeks I said. I had plans, too. Plans to sleep in, take Gunnar to get enrolled in school, go to the grocery store, do some of the bagged up lice laundry, and then get some sleep...some blissful, much needed sleep...oh, and unfortunately, none of this included blogging (sorry).

Did not get to sleep in. Had to wake the munchkins up for school, I always do, but the plan was for the hubby to get them ready...but he had the right idea of not waking up. I did try really hard to go back upstairs and go to sleep...but the sun had already warmed my bones...and I had the chance to see the downstairs and the dishes, and the laundry...so up it was.

I did get to take Gunnar to school, however, due to some, well, we'll call it insane rule. Gunnar can only be enrolled in school between the hours of 10 and 1 and only on Wednesdays. So if you are a parent that works...you're kid can't get enrolled to go to school in the fall? Stupid rule. Needless to say, me being me, the principal having been my 1st grade teacher, and someone who has become well aware of the stink that can be made...Gunnar got enrolled to attend Kindergarten in the Fall. He will go to be evaluated for main stream or special ed in August right before school starts.

We did get to go to the grocery store. We only had one major meltdown, in which the threat of putting everything back on the shelves and go home was able to thwart. Why the meltdown? We made him wear socks (his feet smell like vinegar, I wanted to try...sue me). We managed to rack up a total of $379.98 in groceries that after gift cards, coupons, and Red Card discount came to...$128.74. Hold your applause.

I got none of the blessed lice laundry done as of yet, but the night is young.

Got the kids off of the bus and the groceries put away...opened Brenna's backpack to find a note stating that children would not be allowed to attend the field trip to the zoo tomorrow without walking shoes or sneakers. Brenna tried hers on...for the first time since March...and of course, they didn't fit. So we needed to go to Target to get a new pair.

I suppose the next part is kind of my fault.

We got to Target, Brenna tried on 1 pair of shoes...really the only pair that would fit her size 3 foot and were still cute and girly. Gunnar wanted shoes. I said no...so he took his off and threw them down the aisle. I tried to snatch him up, but he ran...and he can run. I did my best to keep up and still have the other 2 remain in sight as well as him. I finally caught him and he started to rip things down off of the shelves and kicking and punching me. I finally had to push him to the ground and sit on him. We managed to calm him down, so I put him in the basket...mostly so he couldn't sprint off running again, and we headed to the check out lanes.

Well when we got there, the shoe box was empty because Brenna only grabbed the box and didn't pick the shoes up off of the ground...so we had to go back to the scene of the crime. It reignited the you are not getting shoes. He started screaming, one woman pointed and shook her head. Honestly, I am aware of how things look, but I was using all my patience up with him. I had yet to yell, I was still holding him tight like in a bear hug like I have been taught to do by his doctors, I was closing my eyes, counting to 10, I was not giving in, I tried to make things as safe for him and others as I could in a Target. But that woman, well I used all my patience up on and with Gunnar, so doing my best not to let him run again, I pointed at her and said "He's autistic, what the hell is your excuse for behaving like a child?!" Honestly, not my finest moment.

I broke down into tears. I was thankful that Brenna was there to help keep Odin calm and safe in the cart...or I don't know what would have happened.

On the flip side of the coin, 1 woman did come over, offer a tissue and ask if there was anything that she could do, I told her that she just did. I picked myself up, got Gunnar back into the cart that he had flipped jumping out of it, and did my best to hold my head high as we went to buy my daughter a pair of shoes to go to the zoo in.

How valuable?

As many of you know, Gunnar has been struggling with what we are now back to calling, "Mystery Rash." We saw a pediatric dermatologist, who for the basis of this blog will remain nameless.

Last week, Gunnar's regular doctors decided that it was time to move on to bigger and better things, so they gave us the names of a few dermatologists and a recommendation. We went to see nameless doctor the next day. Nameless was kind and worked us in on a day that nameless does not normally accept appointments for consults, just treatment. At the initial visit, Nameless was thorough, and I was impressed. We spent way to much money and were instructed to follow up in one week.

One week later and we were to be Nameless' first appointment of the day at 8:30. This was perfect because it would have given us enough time to be seen, drive Gunnar home, and for me the workaholic that I am be to an important district meeting in Old Town. Well...that plan didn't work.

Why you may ask?

Well...
     1. We arrived 10 mins early as requested, filled out more paperwork and sat down to wait to be called.
     2. We were called back at 8:45 (crap...already behind).
     3. At 9:10 I poked my head out to see what was going on and was assured that Nameless would be right with us.
     4. At 9:25 I repeated and received the same results.
(Officially the meeting is starting)
     5. At 9:40 Nameless enters the room, which did I mention Gunnar had already been instructed to disrobe, and as a result is really agitated.
     6. Nameless decides that the improvement isn't enough, but "Since <I> was in a hurry, <Nameless> will call in a prescription." Great more money.

I felt that at 5 pm that day, sufficient time would have passed to go pick up said prescription, so I waited 45 mins to be told that NAMELESS had not phoned or faxed over a prescription.

6PM Irate Momma Bear Call Made.

Friday, at 4:45 they decided to call back. Apparently NAMELESS forgot to make a note to call in the ointment before leaving the the weekend, but don't worry, we are going to take care of this for you today.

Can someone explain to me that at 4:30 on Saturday, my itchy baby boy still has no  ointment?

Does this office not value the well being of my son? Am I just a money pit to this doctor? Are they seriously this disorganized and unprofessional? What do I have to do to get them to help my son? Do I wait for Monday? DO I call the emergency line and demand answers? Do I play it cool like, nah this stuff happens? Or do I seek help elsewhere?

Punishment

Recently, and by recent I mean twice in the past week, Brenna has decided to exercise some extra "independence" from the rules.

Over the past weekend, she wanted to invite her friend up the street to come down and play. I said that it was fine, but that she couldn't go until after lunch. Well she gobbled down her lunch and dragged he older brother with her down the street. While I meant come and get me after lunch and we'll go together, she heard chow down and go.

We came up with some better rules:
     You don't leave the house without telling a grown up.
     You don't drag someone else into your trouble.
     You take a phone with you.
   

On Friday, I got a call at work. I hate calls at work...because they are bad news. Brenna took Gunnar and went into a neighbor's backyard and left Odin. Now the other stay at home dad was out and about...but again it clearly crossed a line that we had discussed.

Gunnar received a stern talking to, but being Brenna's second offense in less than 7 days, we dropped the hammer. It's a weekend of solitary confinement. No outside, no friends, no tv, no computer, no tablet...her and her room.

We did have to go out and buy a few things Friday night so we took her with us. Oh, it was so much fun. She wasn't talking to me...mind you she knew she was wrong, and anticipated the trouble...she told me that herself, but I got the silent treatment.

Brenna?
     Glare in my direction
What's wrong?
     Shrug
Are you going to tell me?
     Shrug
Are you not talking to me?
     Nod
(This is going to be great)
     Pout

She proceeded to walk about 10 paces behind the rest of us in the store looking at the floor like a defeated puppy.

It was at this moment that my husband and I made it into a game.

Justin asked her to pick out dinner...silly boy...she could point.

I used her brother. I offered Odin a toy for his potential traumatic episode being left alone...to which he happily obliged. Gunnar asked next, and I allowed because he had a tough day at the doctor's office. Brenna putzed around, I asked what's wrong...and she spoke. HA! I declined the toy because she was after all being punished.

Today has been better, she has been speaking to me and Justin...as well as the neighborhood through her bedroom window...can't wait for her to be a teenager.

No Fun for Mom

Sick kids are not fun. In no way shape or form are they fun. They are so miserable, they get cranky, they whine, they are snotty (figuratively and actually), and did I say they can make you miserable with them.

You know when your kid is getting sick. It's a look in the eye, a behavior change, their color, eating habits...something changes. If you have more than 1 child, you also know that no one has the same symptoms at the same time either. So as one starts to rip back into life...another bites the dust.

One could say that the only thing worse than a sick child is a sick husband. Ahem. But alas that's a different post.

Gunnar has had a really itchy rash on the backs of his legs. That was his only complaint. He itched. It got to the point that he was scratching off his skin about a month ago...so we went to the doctors. We left with an allergy diagnosis, a tube of Benadryl, and a request to stop wearing overnight diapers.

Things never got any worse, but the thing is that they didn't get better either. However, we were told that it would take time. So time we gave it.

Earlier this week, I was out in the yard digging a garden, and I heard that worried call for Mommy that every Mom dreads. We know that call means nothing good will come from it.

With a heavy heart and a churning stomach from what I might find, I entered the bathroom. I found a blood soaked Gunnar. He stood there frozen. I gasped, asked what happened, and started wiping him down to see where it was all coming from. To my surprise, it was coming from everywhere but where I expected. He had scrapes and cuts on his legs, across his chest the side of his face.

I got him cleaned up and decided that there was no more time to be had. This rash had to go.

4 doctors later, a strep test, and 4 hours...we found out. Gunnar has Strep Throat that has migrated to Scarlet Fever. The itching that had led to all that scratching, well the scratching caused a skin infection. His immune system was in overdrive from the infections and the allergens in the air.

This time we were sent home with some Claritin Samples, a prescription for an oral antibiotic, a prescription for a topical antibiotic, and a steroid.

By the way, there was no indication that my child was sick. He never ran a fever, never complained, never got the look in his eyes, never became  hostile or overly cuddly. There were no signs.

Now we are dealing with the prescriptions that are giving him fits of rage...that happens every time he is on a steroid. We are dealing with the cocktail that is counteracting his sleeping medication. His being miserable from all the meds that he is on, the fun he can't have because of them.

All of this just crushes my heart. Kids get sick, I know that better than most, but I didn't catch it. What kind of parent does that make me. The doctors all say that even they had no indication that he was this sick, they just had run out of options and decided to test for it. I wish sometimes that Gunnar could be a bit better of a communicator, but until then, we are a bit wiser, a bit more cautious, and more vigilent...and we now know to test for everything and not assume.

The First

Jaxom registered me into the land of firsts the  moment we found out about him. First Pregnancy, First Boy, First Morning Sickness, First Noon Sickness, First Night Sickness, First Fight, First Time Fear got the Best of Me, First I Cannot Fake My Way Moment, First Preemie.

I remember finding out about Jaxom, I (we) thought he was the flu. I was so sick, I couldn't catch a break, I was trying to find a job, so we went to the ER. The nurse came in and drew blood,  and he came back about 45 minutes later to hook up an IV. Assuming that the doctor had already come in to talk about what was going on, he asked how I was feeling, I told him, and he shook his head and muttered, you girls and your babies. EXCUSE ME?! Oh, you didn't know, so let me slink out of the room like a rat and get the doctor.

Yep, it was nothing fancy, nothing romantic, we found out in a little Podunk ER in Illinois. Justin, well let's just say he had a less than flattering moment when we found out. I was floored, but I did my best to turn around quickly. It was August 21st, 2001 @ 11:17pm when we found out. The hospital gave me a bottle of little itty bitty  anti-nausea pills to go home with. Those pills did nothing but make it impossible to sleep at night and stay awake during the day...they did not stop the nausea.

We decided to wait until my birthday to tell anyone the news. I called my mom from a pay phone with a shitty cord down the street at a convenience mart from where we were being temporarily sheltered from our move to Illinois, if you remember these were the days before affordable cellphone coverage. I called her, she wished me a happy birthday, and I dropped the bomb  as gently as any new 19 year old could.

Hey Grandma, how's it going?
Grandma?
Yes, Grandma.
Did you get a puppy?
No.
Did you get a kitten?
No.
What did you get?
A baby...
click.

Well that phone conversation didn't go as I had in mind, but it turns out that I was the one that dropped the call...I either didn't feed the phone enough coins to make the long distance call...or that cord crapped out.

We went home for a visit in October, I had found a job and took a weekend off. Justin still had not found a job however. We had our last paychecks waiting for us at our previous jobs though...so that was something. There was something about coming home that felt right though. And it was then that we made the decision that moving to Illinois was the wrong decision, and we made arrangements for me to drive a huge U haul with my car in tow back home.

We stayed at my parent's place, it was only going to be temporary, but turned out to be a bit longer. I found another job at a bank in Centreville, Justin went back to Pizza Hut at another location. Things were going well...well enough. We found out when Jaxom Xavier was due, April 24. The same day as my Grandfather. We were thrilled. Then Milkshaker died on Christmas Eve. Justin asked if we wanted to name our son after him instead...Jaxom Alford. It was perfect.

On March 3, I called out of work. Something just didn't feel right. I was nauseous, my back hurt, I just wanted to lay in a tub of water all day. I called my mom, she came home and took me to the hospital. Low and behold...I was dilating...I was in labor and didn't know it. I was a 4 and 40%. I was admitted right then and there.

The next 4 days are a haze to me. I was stuck in a little itty bitty room for pre labor, Justin was with me the entire time. I remember lots and lots of doctors and nurses coming to check on me. I remember being really sick from the meds they were giving me. Justin often jokes that he didn't know how I kept puking because the only thing going in was IV fluid. Apparently I was like Old Faithful...he could keep time with my vomiting.

On March 8 the team of doctors decided that they could delay the inevitable no longer. They stopped the meds...which by the way immediately stopped the vomitting and sent me into a bigger room for L&D and into active labor. I remember asking when I could have an epidural...I couldn't have one because of the bars in my back...well now was a fine time to tell me that. They gave me a shot of Demerol instead. They broke my water, and the show was on the road.

I went from 4 to 7 to 10 in 30 minutes. Time to push. It didn't take long to get that tiny little boy from my exhausted body, and when I did...he was a deep blue. That's all I remember of him. They whisked him away quick as that as well. He was way too early. He went straight to the NICU. I couldn't see him for another 12 hours.

When I did finally get to meet him, he had oranged up quite a bit. Yes, I mean orange. He was so jaundiced. Good news though he was breathing on his own. We had a fighter, but he was soooo tiny. 4 lbs. 11 ozs. 20 inches long. He was sticks and skin. He didn't cry, he didn't move...he just kind of lay there as if he knew that getting upset was of no use.

Jaxom had many ups and downs in the NICU, losing weight, becoming to Jaundiced, gaining weight, refusing to eat, failure to wake. I can no longer count how many times I wanted to throw in the towel because it seemed that there were more bad days than good in the beginning. He did eventually hit his stride and we were coming home together on the 19th.

The very first picture of Justin and Jaxom though showed how impressive his jaundice was...as white as Justin is and as orange as Jaxom was...it looked like someone had dropped an orange on a fresh blanket of snow.

Jaxom has grown so much in the past 10 years. I can't even believe that it has been 10 years since I met him face to face for the first time. I miss the days that he was little and innocent, but I have learned to cherish these days a little bit more. Everyone tells you that they grow up fast, but no one says it in a serious voice. They are all consumed with the baby in your arms to say it sternly, instead they say it in high pitched squeaky ones...so you take it as a joke.

Jaxom is now closer to being out in the world on his own and that terrifies me so much. He will be my first to graduate, my first to leave the nest(? maybe). I wish I could stop time, but that would do no one any good. I can just hope that he grows up to be a fine young man.

You can thank the birds for THIS

I have not been sleeping well...so in all my spare time I have been trying to do just that. I  have been going to sleep with the kids which eats into fun mommy time, but I am so freaking tired.

Last night I went to bed around 9 ish...even with the kids away at their Nanna's house. I lulled myself to sleep with a riveting game of app Majongg and drifted off quickly....I even slept through the night like a big girl...until the birds started chirping.

I tosssed and I turned but I just couldn't get back to sleep and I am still so very tired. So I thought to myself...well I am already up let's go get some stuffs done. So I did. I came downstairs and found Justin and Odin on the couch asleep...I wonder when the new one will arrive... I sat down to catch up on some Facebook and Pinterest (my new obsession). Then it happened.

Odin started to stir...then wimper. Justin cursed in his sleep...If I just stay tucked away in the corner...I can avoid this, but I didn't turn off the monitor in time so instead I got stuck with picking up the sopping wet 3 year old that pissed out of his night time diaper while it remained dry on the inside where it counts at least.

Then the fight over what blanket he wanted to be covered with started. I don't like this blanket, no that one has Transformers on it, no this one is too big...what is this Goldie Lock and the 3 f-ing blankets...Just take a blanket and go back to sleep boy.

It is now 6:47am, my alarm is going off...and I am tired again. Hoooooorah way to start the day, Sae, way to start the day.

Another Reason Mommy gets no NAP

NAP doesn't stand for anything, it is literally a short period of time that Mommy wants to close her eyes and do nothing but sleep. I went upstairs at around 2:45 today, fell asleep around 3:15 and awoke at 3:35 to Gunnar gripping his finger and calling to his Dad in the shower for a Band Aid. I woke up startled and asked what happened...

I saw a lot of blood. A little boy holding his index finger as tightly as he could. A worried face.

Ggers what happened?

I don't know?

Upon closer inspection there was teeth marks around the area and no skin/flesh to his finger nail. So again I asked about what happened.

I don't know.

Did someone bite you?

No.

Did you get it caught in something?

No.

Do you remember what you were doing  when it happened?

Yes.

What was that?

I don't know.

Come on let's call the doctor.
So after calling and explaining and looking, they decided that really is not much that can or could be done. We just need to make sure that it stays clean and if it looks infected...take him in right away.

So...Ggers ready to tell me what happened?

I don't know.

Sweetie you know what happened...I think the worst thing that could happen...has kind of already happened...to your finger, I just want to know.

I bit it.

Why?

Because I was hungry.

So you wanted to know how your finger tasted?

No!

I don't understand...you were hungry so you bit your finger?

No.

?

I was hungry and thinking and it just happened.

You know what? What happened not really that important...what is is that we just keep our fingers away from our mouth in the future. Deal?

I don't know.

I give up.

I think that he is going to be fine...he's a tough boy, I kinda just hope that he doesn't try to bite a little more off the next time...accidentally or on purpose.

Is it sad that it reminds me a bit of the Shel Silverstein poem about the monster that lives in your nose?

Warning

  by Shel Silverstein

Inside everybody's nose
There lives a sharp-toothed snail.
So if you stick your finger in,
He may bite off your nail.
Stick it farther up inside,
And he may bite your ring off.
Stick it all the way, and he
May bite the whole darn thing off.

2 ways to put it together

There are 2 ways one can put things together. 

     1 Assemble an item

     2 Make a correlation of assumed fact

Both of these things happened in my house yesterday, both were awesome. For those who don't know yesterday was Brenna's 8th Birthday (see 8). Hold the applause, thank you. And we all got out alive. Thank you!

Brenna received many wonderful gifts for her birthday. She received 2 beautifully frilly dresses, a giant Barbie head (that allows you to experiment with coloring hair every color of the rainbow), and a Barbie Malibu doll house.

Most of these gifts came pre-assembled, but the doll house did not. Their Poppie came over and assigned the 4, yes 4, of them all different jobs in regards to assembling the pieces. No stayed on task for very long, and I swear to goodness, have you ever seen one of those shows where someone is quickly throwing something together and their arms and hands are all going in fast motion and things are being thrown...that was my house.  In the end, we learned that they have their own language, Gunnar grasps the way to utilize some of mommy's favorite sayings at inappropriate times, Odin is a good seeker, Jaxom can put things together with brute force (and since he doesn't have a lot, being that he is a giant bean pole, that is perfect for constructing plastic homes), and Brenna can read those funky assembly directions like a champ.

As the gift giving continued, Mommy (me!) received a new purse and wallet (with an Owl on it...WIN). Jaxom asked why I got a gift on Brenna's birthday, and I replied that it is the same reason every time he asks. He said oh I forgot the reason though. I again replied, "It's a thank you for pushing me out of your vagina present." Now Gunnar was listening and put together in his mind something astounding, "does that mean that Daddy pushed us out of his penis?!" "No baby, but Mommy wishes he did."

8

It's been 8 ___ years with Brenna. My one and only girl, who couldn't be anymore girl if she tried, which is amazing since she is surrounded by boys at almost every angle.

Brenna has an amazing sense of style. It is unique for sure. On a recent play date, one the her "girlie friend's" moms said I always wondered why so and so started dressing like that, your Bean marches to a different beat. I could have and should have taken that as an insult, but it's true. Her sense of fashion is going to land her on a runway one day for all to see.

I won't forget how amazed you looked last night when we cut into your chocolate, chocolate cake and saw the gooey pink mess of frosted cherry inside. Your face lit up like a runway billboard. Always enjoy the little things.

We told you that you would be getting  a bike yesterday, but we couldn't find the one you liked in your size. You were such a big girl, you did not whine, and you accepted the next gift with grace...even though it wasn't a bike. We will keep looking.

I can't wait to watch you finish growing up...here's to another good 10 years under my roof!

Skinny Mini

I have a skinny mini for a son. He is going to be ten in a little over 2 weeks, and he has yet to break 60 pounds. We celebrated like crazy when he passed the 50 lb mark a couple of months ago.

No my son is not malnourished...in fact it's quite the opposite. His father was a skinny bean pole, I was a string bean...so naturally he was going to be one...I just didn't expect this skinny. The doctors say that he spends all his calories on his height...the boy is almost as tall as I am, towers over his peers, but we knew we were going to get a bean pole.

The kid won't eat junk either. He is the only kid I know that wants a salad at McDonald's, doesn't want a cake on his birthday, asks for veggie trays at family functions.

We went shopping today. Do you know how difficult it is to find a pair of pants for the kid? He wears a size 10 (and that is pushing it in length...but just trying to get him to warmer weather). They are fine for length, but he can fit both legs in a single pant leg. Never mind the fact that he is going through a darker is better fashion crisis right now, thus narrowing the "acceptable" field down even further.  We finally settled after scouring the rack for 90 mins on 2 pairs of Wrangler's with an adjustable waist band.

I think that the trip would have been easier without a younger sibling in tow...but beggars choosers right?

So 2 pairs of jeans for $21.14 the true question is will they survive the bus stop on Tuesday?

3 days in

We are officially 3 days into the new chore chart. Here are the results:

Jaxom cannot watch TV or go outside...he decided that literally sweeping everything under the rug was worth this.

Gunnar has been sent to have corner time, however, it seems to have done the trick.

Brenna has executed flawlessly everyday.

I have only touched Justin and my laundry...everyone else's has magically left the kitchen as appropriate.

This new chore chart has afforded me extra time to fold Valentine cards, nap, and surf the web...I don't know what to do with myself...we went shopping today and had time to go to 4 stores and pick out a while new living room set and bedroom set for the boys...And even worse, I don't know how long it will last.

I now know FOR CERTAIN that I could not make a living folding letters...

We, and by we I mean Mommy voted to, decided that we would print our own valentine's this year. If we bought them at the store it would have cost upwards of $83!!! So I decided to scour the Interwebs for free templates and purchase a ream of construction paper.
Brenna came home with a respectable list of names, well I thought it was respectable until I noticed it had 73(!) names on it. When I asked how big her actual class was she said she had 27 people in her homeroom, but when you factored in specials and that they have blocks for classes (much like high school) it was a pretty low number...so she says.
Jaxom's list was 118. I didn't bother asking him how accurate the list was.

I learned a few things about homemade valentines and construction paper.
     Just because it says 8.5x11 does not mean that it will fit in your printer.
     My paper cutter can cut 8 sheets of construction paper at a time.
     My printer can hold 20 pieces of construction paper at a time.
     Store bought valentines are expensive because they are not time consuming.
     Unlike all the other colors in the pack, black paper is randomly placed.
     It is not easy to fold construction paper into quarters...pretty near impossible to get it symmetrical.

I started on these blessed valentines for my darling children at 1:15. It is 6:20 and I am still going. I am taking a break so that I can re-evaluate the system that I have put in place...see if I can shave off a few seconds.

I am also taking a break because I can now be quoted saying:
          If you spent a little less time doing whatever the heck you wanted, and just a few more seconds doing what you were freakin' asked, then maybe, just maybe you would be in a time out so often.

And now that I have been beaned in the center of the back of my neck with a Nerf Dart...I feel strongly that it is time that I conclude this episode of ripples.

Being compared to a Nazi Death Camp

Tonight, I had a fight with my husband about housework...it's the same fight that we have every Thursday and Sunday...I feel I do too much, he feels he does enough, the one thing that we agree on is that the kids get away with a lot in the area of their chores. So like any good Mom of multiple children, and woman that grew up surrounded my law, I wrote down a chore chart with clearly defined expectations and consequences.
I then like any good 20 something (cause I still am, barely) I posted it to my Facebook Page. I was interested to see come of the comments that came up.
And like any other photo I have posted there were comments of each extreme, but one took me aback.
I listed a consequence of the possibility of loosing dinner for the night. I was jumbled with 8 other consequences that would be of the choosing of their father and I. There was no if this happens then this will happen...just a list ranging from a letter to Santa to no visiting friends to no dinner.
Look, I get that the person that wrote the comment probably meant no harm or foul, but the comment, and I quote, "NO DINNER what are you a NAZI DEATH CAMP?!" Well it really took me aback.
I often think that as a society we have taken a step back from disciplining our kids. We are afraid if we take something away that we will damage their psyche, that if we punish them they will hate us. Growing up is tough, it's about learning right from wrong. I think that Sinbad (yes Sinbad...for those of you youngsters reading this...it's a refernece to the 1990's) put it best we have become a society of "Time Outer's". We give a child a "Time Out" for everything...you broke Mommy's vase, time out; you hit Jimmy from down the street, time out; you set the neighbor's house on fire, time out. What does a time out really do? When I was young I had dinner taken away, my bike taken away, grounded...no phone, no internet, no tv, just homework and sleep. Why is that so horrible? I like to think that it helped shape me into not becoming a psychopathic serial killer.
So yeah, I threatened my kid with no dinner, but you know what? Tonight was the first time since we moved here that I didn't have to harp on him to take his dishes from the table to the sink, put his laundry in the hamper instead of balling it up at the top of the stairs. Did he loose dinner? NO. But in his mind he thought about it and how much it might suck to loose dinner. And he made a choice...actually they all made a choice...to do what was expected of them.
To me it's no different than threatening an adult with the electric chair or lethal injection. Does anyone want to think about it? No. But I bet the thought of it actually deters a lot of murder in our society.
Parenting is not about just putting a roof over your child's head, food in their belly, and lavishing them with toys. It's about loving them enough to teach them how to decide between right and wrong, teaching them that every action has a consequence good or bad.
I love my children enough to teach them that if they do something bad, or decide to take short cuts, as they have been doing...that it's going to take/lead them to something that isn't so pleasant. I am sorry if my consequences offend some, or seem extreme to some...but they are creative and they drive the point home.

Wanna be my friend?

Jaxom gets bullied in school, he takes it in stride...even says that it's fun sometimes. When I asked him why he thought it was fun sometimes he said because he gets to put his witty comebacks into practice.

The winner in my eyes is :
     "AW! You keep talking to me...wanna be my friend? No, it's cool I really don't like you either."

He busted out this one last week :
     "I'm Rubber and you're Glue, whatever you say bounces off of me and sticks to you."

Some are simple :
     "You're mom."

Some are flops  :
     "Yeah, well....so?"

Some are mean...I Don't appreciate those :
     "Do you sleep in urine? Cause you smell."

All in all I am glad that my son sticks up for himself in a non-violent way. Do I wish that he never gets bullied in the first place? Absolutely, yes. However, he does and I like seeing him cope in a healthy way. It really doesn't seem to bother him anymore...he has made it into a game.

Does that mean that the school isn't going to hear about it? Absolutely NO. This Momma has a set of lungs that she loves to unleash on the world sometimes...The only question is...who's going to answer the bully line today?

A Special Thank you from THE SCHOOL

2 Interesting "things" happened at Jaxom's 4th grade concert tonight.

As the concert was concluding, the principal marched up on stage after the kids played some Bob Marley songs on. their. recorders. She presented a speech about how the remainder of the year they will be testing to see which band instrument best fits their personality for next year. And. Then......she thanked us for our abundance of patience as we listened to hours of practicing on the recorder. I didn't think that they would be considerate...or understood how practicing a recorder is equivalent to the sound of nails grating down a chalkboard. I do feel that this year was only a warm up for next year.

After the concert concluded, they dismissed the students by class. Jaxom was escorted out by his reading teacher. She had that quirky "now I've got you" smile on her face. She asked Jaxom, "Should I tell her or are you?"
My heart sank and all my hopes and dreams...well they faded.
He said, "You can tell her."
He looked like he was hiding a smile.
She pulled out a piece of paper, and again, my heart sank.
She said, "Jaxom wrote this."
I said, "Lies...I can read it."
She said, "It took him an hour, but I just can't take his cruddy handwriting anymore...it had gotten so bad he couldn't read it either."
I looked at Jaxom, "Now that is what we both expect from now on."
He looked pitiful as he realized that he had just tripped over a double edged sword...we were proud, but he revealed that he could do it...now he has to work harder to replicate it.

3rd surprise...Gunnar did not have a melt down during the concert, but he did announce to everyone on the stage left by sound and smell that he had farted.

Oh Blog...I didn't forget about you

Now that January is over I promise to spend time writing more...but still a little less than what I spend with my family.

This morning at approximately tooooooo early to even check the clock because the birds aren't even chirping yet, Gunnar wet the bed. He went downstairs to change his pants....and he noticed something strange. His Dad wasn't there. He started crying and frantically looking about...nope no Dad.
By now I am up and coming down the stairs...Daddy was no where to be found...so I did what any woman of the 2010's would do and went upstairs to get my cell. I dialed his number...and the phone rang downstairs because it was on the desk.
I'm not going to lie, a bit of panic set in. January has not been easy...I've been b!tchy, early to leave, late to come home...not a cup of tea... I thought that my husband had had enough and left in the middle of the night...seriously the thought crossed my mind.
Then the door opened and it turns out he was just taking the trash around before he went to bed for the morning (because by now I have looked at the clock 18,000 times and it is precisely 4:36 AM).

If you are reading this honey, I love you and I am taking Saturday off...