Three Months Old

Three months old.  Already?!

I think each of my boys have their own look, but I was kind of amused by some of the similarities in their 'Three Month Old' pictures.  Isaac's on the left, Owen on the right.

So, Isaac officially broke his tibia.  It took almost a week to get diagnosed, but he's all casted now and hopefully in three weeks we will be past this little medical drama.   One can hope!
Poor boy though, he'd figured out how to crawl around really well in the splint.  The full cast is a bit trickier -- he won't even attempt standing, and even crawling is tougher.  He is sleeping a lot better now though.  Here's hoping this next three weeks goes by really, really quickly.

Random videos of Isaac making himself comfortable watching movies in his cast, and a tiny tantrum.  (The tantrum video is the last one -- it's the best). And me trying to get Owen to talk and smile for the camera (since he'd been happily cooing and chatting the ten minutes before, of course.)

Poor Isaac and Weeks of Pictures

I've been a blogging slacker.  I'd blame double ear infections (Owen) and a potentially broken bone (Isaac), except that all just happened in the last couple days.  I don't know why I wasn't blogging the weeks before that.  So, here's some pictures of our lives from the last couple weeks . . .

Poor Isaac was going down the slide with Daddy, when his foot got twisted between Dad's leg and the slide on a turn.  It was x-rayed, the doctor said it seemed like a break, but they couldn't see one, so they put on a molded splint and wrapped it, and we go back in on Friday for more x-rays. 
He was REALLY miserable the first day.  Being immobile and angry about it.  He thrashed his hardened leg around the place in anger, injuring innocent bystanders (i.e., me).  The next morning (after a blow out diaper that he SMEARED ALL OVER MY BED AND HIMSELF) we took off the splint only to discover one nasty looking pressure sore on his heel.  No wonder he was so miserable (and kept us up much of the night).  The next day we got it rewrapped, and he's been crawling around and climbing one legged every since.

We've noticed he's keeping his whole hand (sometimes both) inside his mouth when upset or hurt.

Curled up to watch a movie.  We've watched lots and lots of movies.

Some random cute pictures of my boys sleeping . . .

Comparison of sleeping Isaac and his Dad sleeping as a toddler too.

 

My poor Grandma was recently moved to an Assisted Living Center after a nasty fall at home.  Since then she's been in and out of the hospital repeatedly.  We've tried to get over to visit regularly, bringing the kids when she's not at the hospital . . . 

Grandma with Owen and my niece, Bailey

Four generations

My Grandma, my boys and me.

Owen was just cooing at her, it was adorable.

The girls with their Great Grandma

My little chunky monkey

Annie & Isaac

Ellie Stories.

This morning began the same way most mornings began.  Early, and with Curious George.  As I was carrying Isaac out of his bedroom this morning we were singing "5 Little Monkeys" (Jumping on the Bed, vs. the Swing in the Tree version . . . both of which he loves).  When we came in and Ellie had turned on my television to Curious George, and Isaac exclaimed, "George a monkey!"  So we sang about a monkey jumping on the bed again.  "One fell off and broke his head," I sang and Isaac giggled as I grabbed my head dramatically, "Mama called the doctor and the doctor said . . . " I continued, when Ellie loudly interrupted, "DADDY.  Daddy called the doctor."  At first I just assumed that this was just one more example of Ellie's preference for her Dad over Mom, but she clarified, "George doesn't really have a Mom," she explained sadly, "He only has a Dad.  The man with the yellow hat.  So Daddy called the doctor."  Um, that's a good point, Ellie.  I hadn't thought of that.

Another Ellie story -- yesterday I was getting the kids ready and I asked her to get dressed.  She responded, "I can't right now, Mom.  I gotta practice whistling."

And for good measure,  a Bad Mommy moment.  So, I tend to keep my kids off youtube . . . a few of their favorite Sesame Street clips are on there, but I only let them watch the ones we've found on hulu.  It seems like whatever clip you're watching on youtube, you're only one click from a swearing Elmo or foul-mouthed-rapping Dora.  And it makes me angry that the site is littered with children's things made crude, dirty or inappropriate.  Anyway, so typically I don't let them watch much on youtube.  With one exception.  Humphrey the bear singing, "Put it in the Bag" (bump, bump).  Ellie had asked ALL morning yesterday to watch it, so after Annie got home from school I pulled it up and they watched it, twice.  Then a Goofy cartoon started (Ellie kept calling him Doofy or Goofus or Doofus, which was amusing me, she just could not seem to remember the name 'Goofy'.)  Half way into it, the baby started crying.  I'd planned on coming right back down, but there was a diaper to change and an outfit to change, and by the time I came back down, the kids were just finished watching a foul-mouthed Cookie Monster video, and there were a bunch of 'Family Guy' clips set to start next.  Dang it.  Annie looked instantly guilty, and Ellie was laughing hysterically and repeating some line about the doctor telling him to take his pants off.  Stupid internet.  So, we sat down and had a talk about what isn't 'appropriate' for little kids to be watching online, and how 'bad' stuff can come up on the computer, and if Mom's not there, how to shut off the computer or close the current screen and to come tell Mom and we can talk about how it made them feel.  The conversation was mainly for Annie, who seemed a bit concerned about what she'd seen.  Ellie was still giggling about the 'pants off' line and saying, "It was funny!  So funny!"  We extended the conversation to include what we do if we're at a friend's house or somewhere else, and Mom's not around, and we hear of see something that we're not comfortable with.  At this point, Ellie finally gets serious, and responds, "When I was at Kate's house, she said she was the boss of me.  But, she's not the boss of me.  And it made me sad.  And berry un-come-bur-ta-bull."  The last line was so emphatic that I burst out laughing.

And lastly, an Isaac story.  Isaac loves the book "Go Dog Go" and asks for it by name, often. So I laughed when he'd finished reading it with his Dad, and Greg asked, "Do you want to read it again?" Isaac responded, "No. All done now with dogs that go."

Heard in the Last 20 Minutes at our House . . .

Annie:
Annie and Ellie were excitedly talking about the future.  "You'll be four, and I'll be six!" Annie said, "Then you will ask me, 'Annie, what is the world made of?' and I will say, 'I don't know.'" 

Ellie:
"I'm just like a Daddy!" Ellie exclaimed, telling me about how she was going to take the little trash can in their room and dump it into the bigger trash can.  Then I heard her as she came out of her room, "Annie, I've done this like 12 times -- I'm done, I think it's your turn."  I had no idea she'd taken on (then grown to resent) the trash duties in their room.

Isaac:
My 19 month old and I had a bit of a miscommunication issue earlier.  He came up to me with a box of crayons.  He pulled one out and exclaimed, "Owens crayon!"  "It's Owen's crayon?" I asked.  "Isaac's crayon," he firmly shot back.  "Oh, Isaac's crayon."  He held up the crayon again and said, "Owens crayon!"  "So, it's Owen's crayon?" If the boy knew how to roll his eyes he would've, "ISAAC'S crayon," he reaffirmed.  "Isaac's crayon," I agreed.  He pulled out a new crayon, held it up, and this time I heard the ever so subtle difference, "Owans crayon."  I looked at the orange and orange-red crayons he was holding in his hands, "OH! ORANGE crayon! Gotcha!" Smart boy.  Not so smart Mom.  :-)

Owen:

He doesn't actually contribute much to the conversation yet.  But he's recently discovered he is very amused by the cow-print bar above his bouncy chair . . .

Completely unrelated:

This is what my walls look like several times a week . . . thanks, Isaac.

Grandpa Robert babysat the other day while Talina and I ditched him with four of our five children.

Isaac's been his usual talkative self this morning, but a few things have stuck out to me and made me laugh.

This morning he climbed up into my bed, asked for the "Mote" (remote) and pointed it at the TV then said, "Ah-tch Super Why."  I turned to Greg and was like, "Our little boy is growing up!  He's asking to watch "Super Why" first thing in the morning, instead of Elmo!"  I don't know why, but it really stuck out to me that he's now requesting Super Why instead of Sesame Street.  Greg just kinda looked at me funny.  :-)  But Isaac was quite disappointed that I couldn't just make Super Why appear on the television, and was not really happy about settling for some random Saturday morning cartoon he didn't recognize.  Until he saw a cat on the show!  "Cat!" he exclaimed and pointed at the screen, "Kitty cat!"  Then, to his utter delight, another cat walked on screen, "ANOTHER CAT!" He was so excited and kept pointing at the 'cat' and the 'another cat'.  I'd never heard him use the word 'another' before, and it was just so cute and sounded so big coming out of his little self, that it amused me.

Later he came in my room playing Ellie's Dora guitar, and he'd push a button and exclaim, "On!  Working!"  Then he turned it over and patted the back panel and said, "Good batteries."  Then he turned switch to off and said, "No batteries now."  He's almost got it.  :-)  Anytime a toy isn't working I tell the kids we need new batteries.  When Dad gets home. :-)  I don't know why, I'm perfectly capable of changing batteries, but in my head it's Dad's job.

Then Aunt Star came over to play.  Isaac kept showing of his "Isaac boots" that he'd just gotten, and Star was making him laugh.  He kept giggling and saying, "That is funny. That is funny." 

Speaking of Isaac's new boots, late last night I went to Kohl's with my Mom and sister (who knew it was open 'til 11pm?!)  We'd gone late when we'd heard that all their clearance was just marked down an additional 40% off that evening.  Who can resist a deal like that?!  Add to that some other coupons we had on hand and we did well.  Really well. 

I spent $89.04.  On $995.21 worth of merchandise.  (Of course, that's at Kohl's, which I tend to find a bit outrageously priced, and I wouldn't buy anything at Kohl's not at least 50% off.)

Not too shabby :-)  Five pairs of winter boots (three pairs of those for the boys were Toy Story 3 light up boots in sizes 5, 7 and 9 . . . I'm hoping this gets us through several Winters with both of them.  Especially since I was getting 'em for like $3 a pair!)  Two pair of dress shoes in the next two sizes Annie'll grow into, a pair of tennis shoes and some cute brown casual shoes for Annie in the next size.  Seven pair of pants in the next two sizes Annie will wear.  A Christmas outfit for Annie next year.  A three piece outfit (sweater vest) for Isaac for Church, and I think it was 9 long sleeve shirts for Isaac, two jackets, two complete outfits and five pairs of pants that all range from 2T-4T.  Also, three bras that aren't pictured. :-)

Isaac modeling one of his new outfits.

I came home so pumped up from our shopping trip, that it took 'til midnight before I was ready to fall asleep.  Then Owen was fussy, so I got him up and fed him.  Then we had what was quite possibly the WORST night sleep we've had since he was born.  I'm kinda kicking myself that I was up 'til midnight . . . but when I see all the stuff I got for less than $100, I feel a bit better :-)

My Morning . . . Every Morning

Every morning I walk into Isaac's room, where he's awake and sitting up in bed.  He lights up when he sees me, "Momma!"  He starts gathering his various blankets and a stuffed animal or two and with his arms stuffed to capacity, and starts to hand me things one at a time, naming each one.  "Boo banket."  "Blue blanket, OK."  "Bear banket?"  "OK, bear blanket."  "Pooh?"  "Winnie the Pooh, check."  "Today bear?"  "Cody bear."  (It's a Build a Bear in a Missionary outfit, with my little brother Cody's voice saying, "Hi Isaac!  This is Cody.  You don't know this yet, but I'm your FAVORITE Uncle.  I love you!"  "Ehmo banket?"  "OK, Elmo blanket. You ready, Bug?"  He grins, then he finally reaches his little hands in my direction, "Out!"

As we leave his room, he asks, "Ere Daddy?"  "Daddy's at work, Bug."  "Daddy at wort?"  "Yep, Dad's at work."  "Daddy at wort," he says firmly and moves on to his next question.  "Baby Owen?"  "Baby Owen is asleep."  "Baby Owen seeping?"  "Yep, he's asleep."  "Baby Owen seep," he confirms definitively.  We walk into my room, where Ellie's sitting in bed, watching "Sesame Street" (or "Curious George" if I was lucky enough to have Isaac sleep past 7AM.  I'm pretty much never lucky enough to have Ellie sleep past 7.)  I set him on the bed, he turns and exclaims, "Wow! It Eh-yee!  Eh-yee Momma!"  "Yep, Ellie's already up."  "An' 'ere Daddy?"  "He's at work, kiddo."  "An' Owen seeping?"  "Yep, Owen's still sleeping."  "Eh-yee watch Ehmo/Cat?"  "Yep, Ellie's watching TV."  "An' An-yee?"  "Annie's still in bed."  "In bed?"  "Yep."  "An' Daddy? At wort?" . . . .

I think we spent the first 10-15 minutes of Isaac's day establishing where the whole family is at that particular moment.  And it's one of my favorite parts of my day.

And yes, Dad is still at work.  

Like Mother, Like Daughter

I heard the girls yelling at each other downstairs.  Then Greg putting Annie in time out.  Greg came upstairs, into the room where I was nursing the baby and sighed, exasperated, "She is so much like her mother!"  I laughed, "What did Annie do?"

"She told Ellie that her teeth were going to fall out.  Ellie was freaking out and crying about it, I told Annie to drop it, but she wouldn't.  I told Ellie it was fine, her teeth wouldn't fall out, but she was too worked up . . ."
"But . . . her teeth will fall out."  Greg's eyes rolled, as I proved his 'like Mother/like Daughter' point.  "She had a point," I said, "why didn't you just tell Ellie it's normal and that's what's supposed to happen to teeth?" 
"I was just trying to get her to calm down . . . but Annie wouldn't drop it!"
"I don't get why you'd tell her that her teeth wouldn't fall out . . . baby teeth do fall out . . . "  I think at this point he just walked out of the room, since he couldn't put me in time out too :-)

Annie and I really are a lot of like.  And not just our attachment to logic and being right all the time. :-) I think that's the reason that her drama doesn't really get to me, while Ellie's freak outs get to me.  (Whereas all of Ellie's drama rolls right off Greg like water on duck feathers, but Annie frustrates him to no end.  I don't know if I should be worried about that, when he's comparing the two of us.)  :-)  Anyway, I 'get' Annie.  Not just our 'oldest child' tendencies (like torturing younger siblings with true and less-than-true 'facts' . . . like when my sisters and I told our youngest sister Lacy that we were all adopted, but she was actually Mom and Dad's biological child.  This upset her greatly.  Then she pointed out that she looked just like the rest of us, and we told her that Mom and Dad had her genetically altered to look like us so she wouldn't get suspicious.  We were good siblings.)  It's not just her bookish, teacher's pet, show off for adults, precociousness that reminds everyone of me when she was a kid.  But the one similarity that makes me the happiest is this . . .

The reading late at night by flashlight until Mom & Dad threaten to take it away.  And sometimes even after that.  I don't know if this sight will ever not make me smile.  :-)

In fact we've worked nighttime reading-by-flashlight into her bedtime routine. She was really getting to where she didn't need to go to bed as early as Ellie.  But I wasn't ready to give up the simultaneous, early, bedtimes.  So, we made a deal.  After they were both in bed, she could read with her flashlight for about 30 minutes once lights were out.  She's so freaking cute about it -- she has a little digital watch, and you tell her a time to quit, and she's really usually pretty good about stopping on time. Sometimes, you just get wrapped up in a good book though, and she woke up the other morning and told me, "Mom, you said I could read 'til 8:15 . . . but last night I was reading, and before I knew it, it was 8:20!  Sorry about that!"

(Oh, later today, Annie upped the tooth thing.  When Ellie came running in to my room crying, "I don't want to die one day!  Annie says I'm going to die . . . probably when I am old!  But I want to be 10 or 11!"  Sigh.)

In other child news, Isaac had his 18 (almost 19) month appointment today.  The doctor was totally blown away by his verbal skills, as he informed her at one point that the exam was over by taking her hand, moving it off him and saying, "All done now" and telling her, "Baby Owen sleep carseat" and pointing at his sleeping little brother in the carseat.  He also told her, "Sisser Annie, Sisser Ellie, at school."  She was very impressed by his vocabulary, and he really spent half our time there just crying, so she didn't even really get to see how awesome he is. The other day, I was picking up some dirty clothes in the kids' rooms, and Idaac pointed out to the washer and dryer and said, "Start laundry now, Mom."  When did my 18 month old start telling me what to do around the house . . . in complete sentences!?  He's such a little mimic, and we're pretty used to him rambling off long sentences he hears, but when he comes up with them completely unprompted, it still surprises me!  (You have to remember too, Ellie was in speech therapy at two years old 'cause she would only use about 10 words regularly -- so this is a whole new world!)  Anyway, besides milestones, the big focus was obviously growth.  And this kid is growing!  He's really shot up recently, which makes me feel better about the food I prepare and serve ALL day long . . . he's much taller on the charts than he was at a year, and heavier too.  At 27.2 pounds he's less than three pounds smaller than Ellie.  And his head size was at 94% on the charts . . . I told his doctor, "Wow, that's all?  I actually kinda thought it would be off the charts now." She responded, "No, 94% is on the charts . . . we don't consider them off the charts until they hit the 95th percentile . . . " and we both started laughing.  His height went from 29% on the charts at a year, to 53% now.  His weight went from 19% in weight at a year old, to 63%.  That is a big jump!  So it wasn't just his younger brother being born that made Isaac suddenly seem ginormous . . . it was the fact he's now ginormous.  :-)   

Since we were leaving the house and all, I got the boys dressed in one of their matching outfits.  They're so cute . . . 

That same day I took a picture of Owen that reminded me of an expression that Isaac would make as a baby.  So, I had to pull it up and compare them, and it amused me how similar the expressions were.

 

 Aunt Talina was over watching the girls while I took the boys to the doctor's office.  With all five grandkids in one place, we took some pictures for Grandma and to send to Uncle Cody on his mission, since he's never seen these two little ones in person . . .

Weekend Pictures

My cousin Makayla had her Mission Homecoming on Sunday, so after Church, we all headed to my Aunt Judy's house for the afternoon.  The kids had so much fun seeing all the extended family, especially the second cousins.  In fact, Ellie's prayer last night at Family Home Evening went something like this, "Thank you for Jesus and for Makayla.  Thank you for Makayla's mission so that we got to go play with Jaxson and Kenzie.  I LOVE playing with Kenzie and Jaxson, especially in the basement with the toys." 

Isaac was a fan of the food.  Well, the desserts, at least.  When I walked into this scene I asked Greg if maybe a sugar cookie would've made more sense for the one year old than the Red Velvet cupcake . . . :-)  

Isaac had fun playing on the pool table, putting the balls in the various pockets.  Interesting fun fact we learned -- Isaac can count to 10!  Yeah, I didn't know that.  My sister Star called me down and was all, 'Watch this!' and she's hand a ball to Isaac, he'd count it, then put it in the pocket closest to him.  He struggles sometimes with numbers 3 & 4, but from 5 on he has no problem at all . . . 

Since we were all dressed up and all (except Owen, 'cause he just wears pajamas 24-7), we figured we might as well get a 'family photo' of all of us in one place . . .

My adorable little boys.

 And then today, I snapped a couple adorable sleeping pictures of Owen.  'Cause he's sleeping less nowadays and I want to remember this; plus, is there anything more adorable than a sleeping baby?!

Speaking of sleep, guess who went SIX hours between feedings last night?  The kid did not wake up until 4AM.  That's amazing.  I think Annie was nearing a year old before she was sleeping that long of a stretch :-)  I don't want to get my hopes up too much that this'll be our new norm, but MAN, do I love me a sleeping baby!  Makes life so much easier! :-)

Productivity

I'm still supposed to be taking it 'easy,' but Greg is officially back to work (as of Monday of this week) and that puts me solely in charge of the welfare of four young children and the home they live in (and trash regularly).  I've been surprised at how great I've felt.  The baby sleeping 3 hour stretches almost all night is a big part of that, I'm getting more sleep and am more rested than I was when I was still pregnant!  A lot of my time is, rightfully, spent cuddling and nursing a newborn, but in between I've been happy to see how much a motivated Mom can get done.  Dishes, breakfast, kids ready for school and wipe down some counters and change the laundry before Annie's even left for school.  I don't think I was that productive before I had a newborn around.  I've been so pleased with how well I've felt, emotionally and physically, after having this baby.  I do not feel like I just had a baby two and a half weeks ago.  I'm way more rested than that :-)

Isaac's also quite productive.  Take for instance this afternoon.  Just while I was nursing the baby, he managed to get his hands on a red marker, write on the chairs in the kitchen, the walls in the hall, a couple doors, and then for his true masterpiece, he took that marker into the bathroom, and while repeatedly dipping it into the toilet, he managed to 'paint' nearly every surface of the bathroom (and most of his exposed skin) in red toilet water.  Floors, counters, cabinets, walls, the toilet lid (every single 'layer' of the toilet seat) and the potty chair.

Isaac's still talking a ton too.  Leaving my sister's house the other day, I said, "It's time to go home," to which Isaac responded by standing up and enthusiastically yelling, "Out to the van now,  guys!" ("Guys" is how he refers to his sisters as a group -- singularly, it's "Annie sisser Annie" and "Ellie sisser Ellie.")   I marvel at how much he 'gets' about how to use language for his age.  Ellie was two and a half years old and still referring to herself in third person ("That Lala's bear")  The other day I asked who wanted more grapes, and he yelled, "Me!!  I do, I do!"   Whenever he points something out, it's "That's a doggie," or "That's a ball."  Looking at a book last night, he saw a picture of a broken cookie jar and he shouted out, very concerned, "Oh no!  Broken!  Fall down on floor!  Broken, down!"  He's also my first real 'mimic' .  . . he repeats back whatever he hears, sometimes hitting up to 7 and 8 words from a particular sentence he heard.  On his own, unprompted, he talks in several word sentences throughout the day.  Not to mention his ongoing, indistinguishable, narrative of life.  Whole paragraphs of stuff we don't understand.  Greg mentioned the other day that between the strides Isaac's making in speaking, and with Greg staying home for two weeks with the kids, he's amazed at how much he understands of what Isaac has to say now.  He is pretty impressive at getting his point across -- a gift I still feel strongly that he was blessed with 'cause he'd have a new little brother around to be the 'baby' when Isaac was not even 18 months old. He is also very vocal about what he likes -- asking for specific foods, colors of blankets, books, songs, movies, youtube videos, people and games.  He asks about Owen all day long, and wants to hold him nearly constantly.  He seems a bit disturbed by how much the baby sleeps.

Man, I Love These Two . . .

 And then just a quick picture tutorial of what it means to be a little brother of two big sisters . . . sometimes, they try their new Christmas robes on you . . . and you look freakishly adorable :-)

 Especially when you're helping to change laundry in your new robe . . .

Warning:  I am quite capable of bursting into spontaneous tears just looking at Isaac right now.  Despite the fact that I believe a baby brother, so close in age to him, will be one of the greatest blessings in his life, I can't help but melt down a little into a puddle of, "My poor baby's whole world is gonna be turned upside down in the next week or so, and he has no idea what happening and I don't know how to prepare him for it."  Having him be so much younger than his sisters were when they were first introduced to a younger sibling has been a big difference -- he's still a baby in so many ways.  Must stop thinking about it now, or I will start crying again.  :-)

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 . . .

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.

Rub a Dub Dub

Isaac loves baths.  He asks for them constantly.  I once told him it wasn't bathtime, and he grabbed a handful of yogurt, rubbed it in his hair, and sweetly asked again, "Bath?"  

 

Today in the tub he was happily playing with cups and other things to dump water with, and I realized I don't have any video of him playing in his favorite place on Earth.  So, here's a bunch of videos of him happily splashing away . . .