Stories Mixed with Pictures

To warn you, this is gonna be a bunch of short stories about the kids or the holidays (most pilfered from my Facebook statuses over the last week) mixed with random pictures from the last little bit . . . 

First, an original Annie story.  Annie came upstairs tonight, was shedding her clothes as she walked down the hall into her room, and hollered over her shoulder, "Dad said to go upstairs and get changed into pajamas before we did ANYTHING else."  Then she stopped.  Walked slowly to the door of my bedroom and added thoughtfully, "Although, that wouldn't really be possible.  I mean, you can't do nothing.  Just walking up the stairs, breathing, walking to my room . . . that's all doing something."  She thought for a second, then happily added, "I think he meant before we did anything like PLAY," and skipped off happily to her room to follow her Dad's instructions to the best of her ability. 

First pictures are gonna be from Thanksgiving.  There's a bunch here (About every couple months, I throw together simple collages on 8.5x11" prints that I send my little brother, Cody, in Uruguay.  So, there are all those collages for him).  Thanksgiving was a ton of fun.  We had it at my Mom's house this year, and the kids loved seeing everyone.  Even if Mr. Grumpy Pants (i.e., Isaac, the moody toddler) spent half the time glaring people down.  My Grandma asked me what was wrong with him that he doesn't like people.  :-)  I tried to explain it's just a phase, and that he's actually quite warm with people, but is awfully suspicious of my family, since they tend to do evil stuff like babysit him.  With Mom GONE.  Who can blame him for giving them the stink eye.  They're monsters.  :-)

Usually it'd be the day after Thanksgiving that'd kick off the Christmas season around here.  But we started decorating the weekend before.  Greg was initially mildly opposed, possibly using words like 'sacrilege',  while I countered with words like, '8 months pregnant with your child', and I won the debate.  :-)  I want to get things up so we can enjoy the holiday season before things get more hectic, and because I have every intention of putting away all things Christmas on December 26th, since I'll be a week from my due date, and I do NOT want to come home from the hospital with a newborn and still have Christmas decorations to put away!  So, Christmas goes up one week early so we can take it down one we early.  Greg couldn't argue with my flawless logic.  Or hormones.  The kids LOVE having the tree up, and we spent Monday evening decorating it.  For Family Home Evening, we had the girls put the ornaments on the Christmas tree -- for each ornament each person put on, they named something they were thankful for. It was so amazingly sweet and cute. The girls came up with literally dozens of blessings in their lives (Ellie's got a bit repetitive at the end, and often included Annie), and they'd hug each other and gush every time they mentioned each other . . . it was so sweet!  The one that amused us the most was Ellie's, "I'm thankful for Mom can give me blessings when I'm sick." Annie's eyebrows arched, and was all, "You mean Dad?" "Nope, Mom." Then the next ornament, "I'm thankful for Annie can give me blessings when I'm sick." "Dad?!" "Nope, Annie." She never did mention Dad giving her blessings . . . :-)
Thanksgiving night the girls got their Christmas Dresses for the year (to wear the next morning for their cousin Bailey's baby blessing that we were having early Friday morning . . . so we tried to get some family 'Christmas Card-ish' pictures taken that morning . . .

(The bottom corner pictures are from the Mall, where Annie's Grandma, Grandpa and Aunt Andrea took them on Wednesday night. The girls had a sleep over with them on 'Thanksgiving Eve', since Aunt Andrea was only in town for another day or so . . . they have not stopped talking about it since!)

Oh, and since those last pictures included Santa, I should add an exchange between Ellie and I from last week here:
Me: "Ellie, what do you want for Christmas?"

Ellie: "Bubble gum!"

Annie: "You can't just ask for gum, Ellie." Exasperated sigh.

Ellie: "I KNOW ANNIE! STOP TALKING SO I CAN TALK TO MOM!"

Ellie, again: "Gum, with, like, Santa on it."

Me: "Well Ellie, we'll ask Santa to put gum in your stocking, but what else do you want?"
Ellie: Thinking hard, then lighting up, "Oooh! Presents!"

Me: "OK, what kind of presents?"

Ellie: "Lots of presents!"
Me: "OK, but Ellie, what kind of presents."

Ellie: "The kind you open!"


She is not being as helpful as she thinks she is . . .
(Both girls asked for nothing but gum for a couple weeks . . . Annie is now asking for roller skates as well.  And maybe some lip gloss.)


So, after our little photo shoot at home on Friday morning, we headed to my sister's Church for her Baby Bailey's blessing.  (Usually such things are traditionally held on a Sunday, during Sacrament Meeting . . . but, a huge part of my brother-in-law, David's, family had been able to come into town for Thanksgiving and Friday, so they scheduled it for a Friday morning to accommodate the most schedules.)  It was really fun though, all getting together in the chapel for the blessing, then going back to my Mom's house for brunch and hanging out for a couple hours.  My kids have seen SO much family lately -- with Aunt Andrea (Greg's sister) in town, and hanging out with Greg's parents, grandma, all my family together for the holidays.  They have LOVED it.  They've gotten so used to seeing everyone, that they now ask first thing every morning if we're going to see Grandma Ruth or Aunt Star or Grandma Verla or Aunt Andrea or Grandma Karine . . . or whomever it is they're convinced they should get to see that day.  Good things we have a whole month of the holidays ahead of us!

The kids were SO excited when they woke up a week or so ago (or whenever that was!) to a bunch of snow in the backyard.  For the first time of the season we busted out all the gloves, snow boots and ski suits and got everyone dressed to go outside (except Mom, who stayed in where it was warm and dry, and did dishes and cleaned the kitchen.  With nobody pulling on her pant leg.)  I think it was a first -- the kids stayed outside FAR longer than it took to get them dressed to go out!  They had so much fun (although Isaac took a good long while to warm up to the cold snow -- but sledding, and being pulled around in a sled, finally got him smiling.)  Greg would load all three kids in the sled, pull them all around our huge backyard, up the small hill at the back, and they'd come sliding down together.  It was hilarious.  And from the looks of it, exhausting.  Greg came in after awhile and said, "Wow, pulling 90 lbs. around in a sled for awhile is quite a work out!  I told him I'd been watching, and decided if I go overdue again this time, I'm gonna go out and try it, 'cause I'm convinced that would put me into labor.

The girls finished their soccer season.  Annie really seemed to enjoy it.  Ellie screamed and cried and whined and had to have her hand held the first three games.  So, for the last three, we gave up and let her not even show up.  So, of course, hours after what would have been her last game, she asked, "Hey, why didn't we go to soccer today?  I wanted to play!"  I don't believe her. 

Lastly, a couple Isaac stories:
Isaac's sentences are ever growing . . . today instead of just saying 'Gee tales' (for Veggie Tales) he exclaimed, "Bob from Gee Tales!" Then tonight while brushing his teeth, "Oh no! Drop teeth brush!" when he dropped his tooth brush. (He then proceeded to walk around the room, throwing down the tooth brush and exclaiming, "Oh no!  Dropped!")

A few days ago, the girls were telling jokes in the van on the way to Grandma and Grandpa's house . . . at one point, Isaac chimed in. "Naw, naw?" (Knock, knock). At first I just repeated "Knock, knock," back to him, 'til I realized he was getting frustrated with me, so the next time he said knock, knock, I responded appropriately with, "Who's there?" He happily squealed, "ME!" and proceeded to laugh uproariously at his own joke. I have a comedic genius 16 month old on my hands! :-)

My Little Storyteller

So, Isaac is a talker.  We don't understand about 98% of what he has to tell us, but he spends all day keeping us informed of his inner workings.  When I get him out of his crib in the morning, he just chatters away while we walk back to my room.  I understand the occasional, "Daddy?"  "Dad went to work already, Bug."  "Ann-ye?"  "She's still asleep."  "TV?  Elmo?"  "OK . . . " but for the most part, it's long strings of verbage that I just don't quite get.  And I'm talking nonstop, sentence after sentence of one-sided conversation.

The other day, Isaac was mad at me.  Being that he's teething, he's been the world's grumpiest baby anyway, and now I'd done something to really piss him off.  Like, wash his face.  He threw himself out of my arms, went running down the hall screaming, "Ann-ye!  Ann-ye!"  As soon as he got to his big sister, he threw himself into her arms and just cried and ranted, "Ann-ye, Mama . . . " and entire sentences would flow out, detailing all the horrible things his Mom has done to him.  I couldn't understand most of what he was saying, although I heard the word "wass"(wash), and every 15 seconds or so, he'd start a new sentence with my clue I was being tattled on, "Ann-ye, Mama . . ."

Last night it was someone other than me or Ellie being told on though.  I had a Relief Society dinner to go to, and I took the kids to the nursery that was there.  Isaac freaked out when we first walked in, so I let him come eat with me for a bit, but then he was getting bored and asking for his sisters, so I took him into the nursery with all the sweet little 12-15 year old girls babysitting, he happily ran into Annie, and I went back to hear the speaker.  I thought I'd heard him crying out in the hall, once or twice, but every time I'd strain to listen, I wouldn't be able to hear him again.  Around 8PM, I was thinking, "There's no way he's still calm . . . it's past bedtime . . . "  I kept thinking of going out and checking on him, but didn't want to leave in the middle of the fantastic speaker's presentation.  But soon I saw a lady standing out in the hall, motioning me.  I hopped up (as quick as I'm able to 'hop' these days), and walked quickly to the Nursery room.  Where my girls were happily playing, but Isaac was no where in sight.  The older girls in there informed me some of their peers had taken him on a walk.  I ended up finding Isaac and a couple of the young women in one of the classrooms, where Isaac was just screaming at them.   Let me be clear here, he was not crying (well he was crying, but I don't mean he was just crying), he was yelling at them.  Chewing them out.  Long strings of angry baby talk.  And apparently had been for quite some time.  He saw me, dived into my arms and cried into my shoulder for a second, then sat up, and immediately, he was all business.  For the next 5-10 minutes, my 16 month old, ranted and raved and complained about everything he'd been put through that night.  He angrily threw together sentence after angry sentence.  I don't know most of what he was saying, though I caught little things.  (Per usual, he mentioned Annie, he also talked about 'out-sigh' (they had taken him outside for awhile 'cause it calmed him down, but it was so cold they've have to bring him back in), he mentioned 'Gi-gi' (which is 'Jesus' . . . he likes to point out pictures of Jesus in the Church, and apparently they had taken him on his walk around the building and he'd got to see some of his favorite pictures.  But, of course, that didn't keep him happy long).  He mentioned popcorn (which they'd had in the other room).  So far these all sound like good things, but I think I just don't understand the part where they kept him prisoner against his will.)  It was pretty hard not to laugh, but to just keep nodding sympathetically, 'cause he was just so freaking fired up and angry about it.  And I'm not even exaggerating when I say this went on for minutes and minutes, nonstop, with him needing no more encouragement than my occasional nod and 'uh huh'.  Eventually he calmed down, I told him we'd go home now, and he freaked out all over again 'cause we didn't have Dad with us (who was in meetings at Church for the evening).  We stopped by Dad's office to say 'good night', and Isaac launched into his angry complaints again for Greg, then when he realized Dad wasn't coming with us, he freaked out mightily and we hastily fled the Church and went home.  (Our Bishop, probably hearing the tyrannical baby out in the hall talking to Greg, actually told Greg to go home for the night, so thankfully he got home right after we did.) 

When he's not angrily detailing the many complaints he has, he can be quite opinionated too.  "Waffles!" he demands as we walk downstairs to breakfast.  "Nana!" he exclaims when I put him in his high chair and he sees a bunch of bananas on the counter.  "Gee Tales!" he tells me as he points at the television, wanting to watch 'Veggie Tales'.  He's gotten quite opinionated about the songs we sing lately too.  During the day, if I try to sing anything different, he sharply reminds me, "Pat a pat!" (Patty Cake).  He will occasionally ask for "ing wah me' ("Sing with me", which is the ABCs).  At night though, he has different requests.  Every night lately, I've gone in and curled my ever-growing boy up on my chest (draped over the giant lump of my belly, with his feet danging to my knees.  My knees, people!  He's getting so big!) on the glider. We rock and sing, and he melts into me and cuddles and I don't think either of us is the least bit interested in giving up our new found bedtime routine.  I sing him a bunch of different Primary songs.  The other night I'd been singing him, "Teach Me to Walk in the Light" and he would sweetly sing, "Eech me, eech me," when I would finish singing.  I sang him "I Am Like a Star," and as soon as I was done, he looked up at me, kinda shook his head 'no', and firmly (but sweetly, unlike most of his demands) requested, "Eech me."  So I sang him "Teach Me" again, and when I finished he promptly sat himself up and started to clap.  I think it's the first time my singing has ever been applauded.  Tonight I asked him after we'd been rocking for a minute, "Do you want Mama to sing to you, or do you just want to lay here and rock?"  He thought about it for a second, the sleepily whispered, "Eech me, Mama." 

This kid endlessly cracks me up, melts my heart, frustrates the heck out of me, and wraps me around his little finger.  I can't wait to see what all this talking is about . . . I imagine that once he can make himself understood a bit better, some of his more recent attitude will dissolve as his frustrations with communication dissolve as well.  He just has so much to say, and I can't wait to figure out what it all is . . .

Dance Party after Bathtime

The girls love to dance (well, actually, all three kids love it.)  In their room is a keyboard, and they often turn on the music on it and dance in their rooms until they nearly collapse from exhaustion (but they don't fall asleep or anything, that'd be crazy.)  Last night, after baths, they had an impromptu dance party.  That lasted over a half hour, and was dissolving into giggles and lots of falling down.  (Isaac was already in bed).  You would've thought they'd fallen happily into bed and go right to sleep.  You'd be wrong.  It was still a good 30-45 minutes before we got these kids to bed after this. 
 

Here are five of the videos (there are a total of 15 on youtube)

I want to be quite clear, I don't expect anyone to watch even 5 whole videos of my kids just spastically dancing, unless they are blood related to the girls.  And even then, only like one or two of their blood relatives will make it through all five.  If you want to be totally diehard though, you can go to youtube and put it on autoplay and watch all 15.  'Cause that's what you'd be doing if you were hanging out on a Sunday morning with my girls :-)  We're on our second time through them . . .

Upswing

Good news.  Isaac seems to be over the worst of it.  His little body is returning to normal and he seems to be bouncing back from his latest major illness.  We never did get any answers.  The lab royally screwed up our best chance of finding out what was wrong.  Not that I'm bitter.  But, he's getting better.  Of course, with his immune system weakened by a nearly month long illness, it shouldn't really be a surprise that he has the same cough and congestion that everyone else in our family has had.  Although it's Ellie who seems to have been hit hardest by it.  She refused to go anywhere today, informing me she was sick and should stay home in pajamas all day.  I couldn't really argue that.  :-)  Both little kids are a bit on the grumpy side, so I took Annie with me this evening and went to two different wedding receptions, getting home after 9:30 tonight.  Annie LOVED her 'grown up' time with Mom, Grandma and Grandpa, and Talina and David.  She was especially a fan of the candy bagging tables at both receptions.  Ellie, on the other hand, had the time of her life staying home with just Dad, and making cookies.  (Greg also had made dinner.  It was awesome, as were the cookies.  So I couldn't even be bugged that EVERY. SINGLE. DISH we own was now lying dirty in the sink or on the counter or on the stove top or on the table or on the floor . . . you get the idea.)

Isaac is back to sleeping through the night (for the most part), except that he LOVES waking up before 6AM.  Greg and I now refuse to acknowledge awakeness (other than a quick diaper check) until after 6AM.  So far neither side seems to be budging on this. 

The girls, on the other hand, have conspired against us (along with the virus causing their coughs).  They take turns coughing until we wake up, having nightmares that wake us up, or TALKING IN THEIR FREAKING SLEEP . . . usually in a, "MOM!  Come quick!  Help!" kinda way that makes adrenaline shoot through me as I spring from my bed (difficult to 'spring' at 33 weeks pregnant) and run into their room, only to find the talker is soundly asleep.  Sigh.  Neither of them have ever really been sleep talkers, and yet last night, I know Annie called out for us several times, and Ellie contributed once or twice to the Mom-rousing-conversation last night. 

But all in all, things seem to be on an upswing.  Having Isaac not being stressful-levels-of-sick is doing a wonder for mine and everyone else's mood. 

And thanks everyone for all the sweet comments on my last post . . . it is nice to know that I'm a.) not alone, and b.) not annoying everyone if I complain about something stressful in my life :-)

Fighting Battles

If you want to read some great writing by a wise woman, I highly recommend checking these posts out:
http://thebookofarmaments.blogspot.com/2011/11/on-kindness.html

http://thebookofarmaments.blogspot.com/2011/10/celebrating-our-differences.html

That's my sister in law, Liz.  She's pretty awesome, huh?  I've been thinking a lot about what Liz has written lately.  And what the two of us talk about a lot.  See, Liz and I both have three young kids, 5 years old, 3 years old and 1 . . . so, we have a pretty good grasp on each others day to day life.  (Despite the panic attacks I've caused her with my unexpected fourth pregnancy, she thus far seems to have missed the chance to be pregnant with me yet again.)  We tend to be going through things like teething, potty training and sleepless nights around the same time in life.  Having Liz to go so closely through motherhood with, has been one of the great blessings of my life as a Mom.  There are probably few other people in my life who I'm quite so blatantly honest about what life is like, as I am with Liz, and it's not uncommon for us to spend an hour or better on the phone, really, really regularly.

Unfortunately, hers isn't the only writing I've been dwelling on lately.  I'd gotten an email recently, that kindly informed me I should probably stop complaining so much about sick kids and motherhood, 'cause at least I had kids, and was pregnant, and there are lots of people who'd happily trade me places in a heartbeat.  That I should just be thankful for what I have.

My heart kinda shattered a little when I read that.  It hurt.  I felt guilty.  I cried.  And unfortunately, that's not a super rare occurrence around these parts lately, so once again, my kids just stared at me like I was crazy as I tried to compose myself. 

This last several months (year?!) have been really difficult with sick kids.  It's scary to feel like you have no control over how well your kids are doing.  I can clean my house, wash all laundry on sanitize, use essential oils, hand washing, good hygiene, breastfeed past the American norm for immunity purposes, use a well respected line of children's supplements and herbs, consult doctors, specialists, surgeons, herbalists, naturalists and try my best to feed them a healthful diet . . . and I still can't keep them from getting sick.  I've never felt so helpless in my life.  There's  been scary hospital and ER visits, there's been tests and doctor's appointments and lab results that have gotten screwed up and cost us our chance of finding out what was wrong.  There has been more money and less sleep than I'd planned on.  It's been really difficult.  I try not to complain about it much; I cry to Greg, I unload on those closest to me, and in my own little world of blogs and facebook, I vent a little.  My world has gotten a lot smaller this last year.  I don't leave my house much anymore, it's hard when you have a kid who's had diarrhea for a month.  I get Annie and Ellie off to school, play with Isaac, and maybe run to the grocery store when Greg's home in the evening (getting three kids in and out of carseats with my ever expanding belly is getting more difficult, and tiring, than feels less than worth it a lot of times).  But I'm tired, and I'm run down, and I am often dealing with a child I don't want infecting anyone else, so I don't get out like I used to.  I haven't made it to Church in six weeks.  That, and volunteering in Annie's school, are my last two social outreaches a lot of times.  You would be shocked to see how much I don't mention online.  Every time I post an update about my kids, I've weighed very heavily how badly I need to vent vs. the possible cost of it (i.e., exposing myself to comments and advice that while helpful, sometimes hurts 'cause it feels like people just think that if I could 'figure this out', my babies would be all better.  Which is my own issue -- the vast majority of comments are very sweet and supportive, very few have actually carried any judgement in them.  But, man, those ones hurt.)

I have tried to be really conscientious about complaining about the pregnancy itself.  I am very well aware of loved ones and friends in my life who would give their right arm to be pregnant.  This pregnancy was a big surprise, it took some getting used to.  It was mildly terrifying to feel a total lack of control in my own life that came with an unexpected pregnancy.  But I am grateful.  Those feelings were fleeting, and I am joyous and thankful every time I feel this little boy move and squirm inside me.  I'm so completely head over heels in love with this baby, and I can't wait to meet him.  But it hasn't been easy.  This pregnancy has been, by far, the most emotionally and physically difficult.   Couple the paragraph above with the fact that I am 33 weeks pregnant, and my stress level doubles.  Only Greg could tell you how many nights I've sobbed myself to sleep, crying about how I can't keep Isaac well, what is heaven's name am I going to be able to do for a newborn? Having flashbacks to Isaac in the hospital at 7 months old with RSV, on oxygen and struggling to breathe, and realizing this new baby will be THREE WEEKS OLD at the same time of year.  There is a near crippling terror that fills my most vulnerable moments.  I am tired, I am stressed, I am hormonal and emotional, and I've never been so affected by it all as I am right now.  I would not trade this opportunity to be a Mom to this baby, or any of any of my children, but I have never had such a hard time with it as I'm having now.  I have moments of hopelessness, fear and self-pity that I have never felt before.  They like to grab me in the middle of the night, and try to bury me deep into my pillow until it feels like I can't breathe.  When I'm supposed to be sleeping.  And trust me, I needed that sleep. Fortunately, they are fleeting.  Or at least, aren't often overwhelming.  I have a wonderful support system of more family than a girl could know what to do with, the world's most amazing husband, and beautiful children who remind me every day all that I have to be thankful for.  But this is hard.  I've never felt like this.  I really think the vast majority of it is the hormones of pregnancy, and the sleep deprivation sure isn't helping.  Even when I feel my most desperate and hopeless, there is still a feeling of peace that comes after the storm, that tells me these feelings aren't my whole reality.  They're just one small part, and not even the most important part.  I am so happy with my life, it's just never been so difficult for me.  And I realize that if this is the most 'difficult' thing I've dealt with before, than I'm a very, very lucky woman.  But it is my own personal trial, and therefore it feels very hard, and very personal. 

So before you ever send an email to someone, telling them what they should or should not feel . . . please just remember that you probably only know a fraction of the story, see a corner of the whole picture, and that everyone is fighting their own battle.  Maybe you're strong enough that the same trial wouldn't stress you out, but the other person may not be as strong as you.  And having that pointed out, probably won't help the matter. 

Ewwww

So, cleaning up a blow out diaper that I discovered while Isaac was sitting on the carpet in my bedroom was bad enough.

Finding when I got out the carpet shampooer that when it was used last (to clean up vomit), it hadn't been emptied, made it worse.  That had to be the nastiest smelling water ever.  And we've set a new all time low bar around here for nasty smells.

And did I mention that during a diaper change yesterday morning, a moving, squirming larvae was discovered?  Alive.  In Isaac's poop.  Which I got to 'capture', sick in a specimen jar, along with yet another stool sample, and take to the hospital for more tests.  Meaning that more than once in the last week I've walked into a public building with a jar of poop in a brown paper bag.  Once with a live bug in it. 

I lead a glamorous, glamorous life :-)

Poor Baby

This has got to let up soon.  Right?  He's so little, he can't stay this sick for this long.  He needs a break, I need a break.  His poor little body has been taxed all week, and it just seems like he deserves a bit of a break.  I have no answers, just a sick baby who isn't getting any better.  Tests haven't told us anything, and my doctor's office is pissing me off in their completely blasé attitude about our situation.  It took all I had to not yell at the nurse the other day, when she snottily told me, "Well, according to his charts, you can't even tell us when this all started."  I explained again, I'm not quite sure . . . the stools just got a little more frequent and a little looser, but he was teething and drooling.  He's always had loose and frequent stools with teething.  I honestly am not sure when it started, it just kept getting a little worse bit by bit.  What I do know is that last Thursday, he had a couple diapers where the stool was basically water, and I called and took him in to the doctor's immediately.  I know he was throwing up and barely able to stay hydrated Sunday morning.  I know the vomiting thankfully stopped and he started chugging pedialyte (to the tune of 2+ liters a day since Sunday), and we got him hydrated and didn't have to do an ER visit.  But the diarrhea isn't getting any better.  I know there are some hours I change 4, 5 or 6 diapers an hour.  I know we're struggling against a persistent diaper rash because of this.  I know it lets up enough for him to nap, usually, but starts up with a vegenenge as soon as he wakes up.  I know he's tired, and his body is drained.  He woke up so many times last night, then woke up at 6AM, and we never could get him back to sleep.  His whole world is off.  I'm keeping his diet as bland as possible, which he's not always happy about.  He's stopped drinking water, he refuses anything but pedialyte (which we learned the hard way when we ran out in the middle of the night and he wouldn't take a sip of anything until we got him more pedialyte.)  He's uncomfortable, he's miserable.  He tries so hard to be happy, but mornings like this he's basically cried, cuddled, screamed, thrown things, cuddled again and then sobbed pretty much all morning.  I don't know what to do for him.  We are waiting on one last test result, but I have little hope it will tell us something.  We're all so tired, and drained.  Poor Ellie feels so lost in the shuffle.  It seems like every single time she needs me or wants my attention, I'm elbows deep in the latest mess with Isaac -- "Ellie, I can't!  I'm changing Isaac's clothes/giving Isaac a bath/have diaper rash cream smeared half way across the carpet 'cause your brother rolled away when I attempted to touch his sore, sore butt."  Isaac needs so much of my energy and attention, and my energy was already in short supply between not sleeping well and being 32 weeks pregnant.  I've tried to set aside Isaac's naptimes for one-on-one Ellie time, but the last couple days she's been so super pissy and upset by the time that's rolled around, that she's needed a nap herself.  Poor Annie's picking up all kinds of slack -- my five year old has made lunch the last two days for her and her sister.  Peanut butter sandwiches, carrot sticks and grapes.  She's got out yogurt for snacks for them, she's carefully doled out prearranged portions of their Halloween candy for each of them, and she's an expert at putting in and changing movies.  My kids have watched so much more television than usual this week.  I haven't been sending them to friend's houses, and obviously friends aren't coming to our house, so they both feel bored and isolated.  I feel like a recluse, we haven't gone anywhere but to the doctor's and hospital and to buy more pedialyte (I need to rearrange my grocery budget this month -- I hadn't planned on the $60+ we've already spent on the stuff this week).  I just yearn for a glimpse of our normal life.  When we're not consumed by this illness, this nameless, elusive illness that has taken over our home and made our lives hellish.  I just want my baby to feel better, for our lives to feel normal again.  To know that my baby is okay, that serious damage isn't being done to his tiny body.  I just want some answers.  I just want him to be well.

Halloween, Piano Recital, and a Sick Baby

Annie had her first ever Piano Recital this weekend.  

Unfortunately, her Mom is a video camera idiot, so not only is this first video blurry, but I somehow (without my knowledge) didn't even RECORD the second song she played (a more difficult, "In the Jungle.")

Isaac, Ellie and Annie enjoying the refreshments afterwards.

Then pictures from yesterday, before Trick or Treating.

The weather could not have been more perfect, and the girls enjoyed over TWO HOURS of trick or treating last night!  (One hour in our neighborhood, then up to my parent's neighborhood for a spook alley and some more trick or treating.)  Poor Isaac though, never even got into his costume last night.  He's been so very, very sick (almost necessitating a hospital visit on Sunday, but fortunately, he finally stopped throwing up and we've been able to keep him hydrated since), and was down for a nap the first half of trick or treating, and was up screaming during the second half.  The kid is guzzling down the pedialyte (to the tune of about 50-80 ounces a day), and starting to eat a bit more, so amazingly he hasn't lost any weight.  (I was SHOCKED when we had him weighed at the doctor's today, that he hadn't lost anything since last Thursday when we had been there last . . . apparently pedialyte, crackers and bananas are somehow enough to keep him from wasting away.) Him staying the same weight is really saying something, when you realize that just from blow out diapers, we went through every last crib sheet we own between 5AM-8AM this morning; we're changing diapers 3-4 times an hour during his waking hours, and we've had two nights we've run out of clean pajamas . . . and that's with us doing about 3 large loads of laundry a day since Sunday.  It's been really heartbreaking to see him this sick, and I'm hoping the latest tests they are running at the hospital will get us some answers, but this may just be a case of a particularly nasty stomach bug we have to wait out.  It's been kinda funny to see him with a bottle -- the kid has never taken a bottle before, other than the one I cut the tip off of that I serve him his morning spinach smoothies in.  But suddenly, he's attached to one 24-7, and is drinking from a pedialyte filled bottle pretty much around the clock.  Watch, he'll end up attached to one at 16 months old and I'll have to wean him from it :-)
Isaac, Ellie and their two week old cousin Bailey were all supposed to be matching pumpkins for Halloween, but unfortunately Isaac never got dressed up and there's no way we're bringing a two week old anywhere near anyone at our house, so unfortunately we have no pictures this Halloween of the tiny trio.  Maybe we'll do a makeup photo session next week?