Helpful Little Helper

So, we're walking now, and what a journey it has been! Tiny Human is becoming Not-As-Tiny daily, and it's sad and wonderful at the same time. I have loved watching TH grow and learn and experience new things, and figure stuff out for himself. It's fun. 

And at 14 months old, he's finally helping out with the chores around the house. Earning his keep, if you will. In the picture above, he is helping me do his laundry by taking all of the clean clothes out of the basket and putting them on the floor.

Helpful.

He is also very helpful in that he is systematically rearranging the house to his preferences. I don't know what I would do without him letting me know that the Tupperware and mixing bowls actually look better on the floor. 

He's actually quite the interior designer. Other specialties include using colanders to add some flair to the living room; sliding bar stools in front of the refrigerator (because who doesn't like a challenge when getting a snack?); hiding phones in kitchen drawers; losing the mail; and relocating the garbage can to a more unusual location. 

Helpful.

I can't laugh about it all, though. Because the kid does love to vacuum. This child will scream and cry if you take away his hardwood vacuum. Full-on tantrum. We walk around the house, and he follows us, vacuuming up all the puppy fur, happily watching it get sucked up into the clear-plastic basin. He cleaned our bathroom! Our kitchen! All around the dining room table! Along the cabinets, baseboards and the back door! The hallway leading to the front door! The house has never been less furry!

Helpful. (No, really.)

TH will also entertain his fans by standing in the grass for approximately 15 seconds before screaming. He will not take any steps. He will not sit. He will not break eye contact with you.

He will just stand, angrily plotting the ways he's going to make the rest of the evening terrible. 

In all seriousness though, TH has been great, and this phase is my absolute favorite. He loves to walk and crawl and he's trying to climb. He's great at going up the stairs and is learning how to get down. He's graduating on Monday to the next class at school. He's drinking whole milk, water, and super diluted apple juice. He eats EVERYTHING. (With the exception of birthday cake. I presume he doesn't want any cake, and that this isn't limited to birthday cake, but he hasn't been given the chance to try.) He talks a lot but doesn't say much. He makes faces and sticks his tongue out. He gives high-fives and lets us brush his teeth. He claps when we say "the end" after we finish our bed time story, and helps us close the book. He sleeps. He sleeps well. He colors pictures for our friends and family and he really hates the feeling of paint on his fingers. He laughs a lot, and he fills our hearts with joy and our home with love.

Token Puppy Picture.

More Cake for Me.

Tonight, while minding my own business, my coworker on console with me, turns to me and says, "Are you going to have another baby any time soon?"

This from the same woman who consistently compares her nine cats to my one child. She compares her cats' raw chicken food mixture to my son's fully cooked and well-thought out prepared meals. She compares her cats' purring to my son's laughter. But, she's let me know, her cats win for two reasons. First, her cats snuggle in hers and her boyfriend's bed, all night, in the nooks and crannies of their legs, and in between pillows. Second, because her cats are trained to use a litter box, whereas my son poops "where ever."

Well, for some reason she's interested in the status of my uterus. (Spoiler alert: it's empty- void of life.)

I sort of ignored her question at first. Was she trying to find a way to bring up her cats? (She's never needed an "in" before; just last night she spent almost 4 of our 7 hours together showing me pictures and videos of her cats.) Then I wondered if she was actually interested in whether or not Hubs and I were considering another child.

If I told her a simple "yes" or "no," would that be enough? Would she dig deeper? Would she just skim by the whole thing altogether?

Do I tell her the backstory to why we really don't know what we want to do?

She was hired on while on I was on maternity leave last year, so she doesn't know much, if anything, about the issues we faced throughout my pregnancy with Tiny Human.

She went to the restroom and I used that time to really decide what I'd tell her:

We don't know. After so much (emotional) pain and worry and complication and frustration, we don't know. We don't know if we want to make another baby. We don't know if the hyperemesis would come back. We don't know if the cholestasis would come back. I don't know if I'm ready - mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually - to put up with it all again if they come back. But am I ready to never feel a baby kicking my bladder again?

Am I ready to not have this again?

If it was up to Hubs, we wouldn't have another baby. He's said time and time again, that it hurt him so much to watch me endure so much - so much sickness, so much depression, so much pain and worry and anxiety - and knowing there was nothing he could do made it worse for him.

He didn't mean it in a selfish way (as my coworker implied). He wasn't trying to play the victim when I'm clearly the runner-up in the situation. He was giving his rationale to another option: adoption.

There are so many babies in the world who are born to families who can't or don't want to raise them. So many babies who are born into terrible situations, or having addictions, or lacking the medical interventions they need.

We could save one of those babies.

We could complete our family with a baby who needs us, or we could make a baby and complete our family that way. At this time we don't know what we'll do, and we aren't in any particular rush to figure it out. We're just trying to get through one day at a time with the baby we do have.

The sweet and opinionated one-year-and-three-day-old who lives with us currently takes up a fair amount of our time, energy, and hearts. Right now, our family is complete. We're not longing for another baby at this time. We aren't wishing something was different. We're too busy for that - chasing after Tiny Human while he crawls, walks (with assistance), and explores our home.

Maybe one day he won't react this way to cake.

He's the one who makes our house a home, he completed our family for the time being, and we are content with our lives.

Plus, more cake for me.

Intraheptic Cholestasis of Pregnancy

One year ago I was diagnosed with Intraheptic Cholestasis of Pregnancy. The next 7 weeks of my pregnancy were then marked with anxiety, stress, and 2 OB appointments per week that each lasted an hour or longer.

One year and one week ago I stopped sleeping through the night because I was uncontrollably itchy.

One year ago I started to pity myself and become depressed. How did I end up with such a rough pregnancy? I started off so sick and unhealthy, and lost so much weight that I was being threatened with a PICC line.

Since then, I've learned more about this liver disease than I've ever wanted to know. I've explained this liver disease to anyone who asked and anyone who would listen. I've explained to people who asked why I was OK with being induced instead of letting my body go into labor naturally. I've explained why we just couldn't wait for that to happen, and the risks to the baby that were involved.

I've explained, countless times, why I had to go on bed rest, even though I wasn't ordered to stay in bed. And why I spent hours in the middle of the night able to finish the nursery - because I wasn't sleeping. Ever.

I've even explained to a select few how I became depressed and stopped wanting to go out, or see family and friends because I felt so sad and anxious and afraid for my baby all the time. And I've explained to those who've asked, what I needed in that time last year, from friends and family, and how I was afraid and ashamed to ask for it. I've explained that it's likely to return if Hubs and I decide to have another baby, and that I'll need those things again - and likely more, since there will be a toddler/child running around also.

I'm thankful for the obstetric care that I received, and that the condition was treated seriously, and that I wasn't dismissed, which happens to so many pregnant women because a large number of doctors don't know about ICP - or believe it's so rare that it doesn't fit the case at hand.

This website has a lot of extremely valuable information and I urge you to at least glance through it - if you have questions about what I went through. Please don't skip the In Memory page. I feel like this page requires the most consideration.

www.icpcare.org

Prayers.

I need some prayers, you guys. I need to change my point of view.

This weekend, Hubs and I had two friends over with the plan to watch a movie. Of course, this would be the one night out of probably 20 where Small Fry did not want to go to sleep at his regular time.

I spent too much time apologizing to our friends! I complained, outwardly and inwardly, about my son's refusal to sleep. Instead of being mindful and tending to my son's cries and needs, I sent Hubs up to "deal with him." I was frustrated.

I know that being frustrated is normal and common, and in itself, is not a huge problem. But when you compound that frustration with my feelings of being inconvenienced and angry at my child, there is a problem.

Considering almost every other night my son willingly goes to bed at his assigned "bed time," and sleeps through the night, I should have known that my sweet son needed something. He wasn't experiencing a fear a missing out. He wasn't trying to just get on my nerves and wreck my movie plans. No, my son needed me, and how did I help him?

By complaining about him to my friends, and complaining about him in my heart.

After a while, it became clear to our friends that Tiny Human was not going to sleep any time soon, so they left, and Hubs and I - still begrudgingly - tended to TH.

I took him on a nice long walk at 9:30 pm (more than 2 hours after his usual bed time), which did nothing but anger him. I brought him back inside, upstairs, gave him some milk and Mommie snuggles, and while he pushed away from me and cried, I felt angry at him. Why were my attempts to soothe him not good enough?

Finally, I'd hit my wits end, and Hubs decided to take TH out for a short drive in the car. Thankfully this worked to get him down for the night- at 10:30 pm. More than 3 hours after his usual bed time, and after we'd originally started the bed time process.

Once he was down, a felt an immediate rush of relief and guilt. Why was I so frustrated with my son? Why, after a nice day spent together playing and laughing, was I so quick to become angry and selfish when he still needed me a little later than I'd planned?

Pray that I can change my point of view. I need to remember and realize - in times of difficulty and frustration - that my son is not an inconvenience to my plans. My son is the priority over movie night. The priority over my night of sleep. Over my dinner. Over my shower. Over the dishes, and the laundry and the other chores that are so meaningless, and the small tasks of the day. My son is the priority over these things. He's not throwing a wrench into my plans - rather, my plans need to remain flexible at all times to cater to him (within reason). Plus, I need to remember that if he's up and is crying and is sad and is clingy, he needs something. He has a need that hasn't been met yet, and it needs to be met in order for him to calm down.

Prayers needed.

Funerals, Big Things, and A Cardboard Person.

Over a month later, and I realized that 8 months out of 12 does NOT equal three-quarters of a year. Unfortunately I can't even blame being on a midnight shift for my delusion (because I posted it around 8:30 AM). I can and will, however, blame the baby. I used to be bad at knowing what day it was, and that has only been compounded by mostly midnight shifts and a Tiny Human. Thankfully, Hubs keeps me relatively grounded when it comes to days of the week: "No. Today is Wednesday. Not Monday."

So, now that TN is a little over 9 months old, I will try once again.

My baby is three-quarters of a year old.

Anyways, March was a long and short month. Somehow I've noticed that days pass slowly, but weeks and months (and the last year, in fact) pass way too quickly. (When was January?! Why can't I remember my birthday?)

March started with the passing of my Great Aunt Elaine. She was 69 years old. She had spent the last few years, after her retirement from a life-long career of school bus driving in Sumter County, Florida, traveling with my grandmother- her only remaining sibling. They spent a lot of time travelling together and with family all around Florida, and to Gatlinburg, TN, where Hubs and I were able to visit with them every other year for the last 4 years. I had gone to visit them there twice before Hubs went with me. 

November 2009

September 2011 - She caught my bouquet!

November 2013 - Excited that her Florida car has snow on it!

Aunt Elaine had spent the last 2 years sick. She had cataract surgery during which she had an undiagnosed stroke. After sometime dealing with side effects, she had some tests run and found out about the stroke. She soon after was diagnosed with Parkinson's Disease. She became depressed and refused to do the physical therapy that would allow her to live a more independent and mobile life, and had to be put into a nursing home. Her daughter, my cousin Jennifer, would often visit and bring pictures, and Aunt Elaine's favorite pictures were of TH, even though she never got to meet him. On Wednesday, February 24, she was diagnosed with pneumonia.

Aunt Elaine died that night, in her sleep, not in pain, and not afraid, and now rests with the Lord. I am thankful that her journey ended without fear and without pain, and that she knew the Lord and His promises. 

My mom, TH, and I were able to drive down to Bushnell, Florida over the first weekend of March to attend her funeral. I was hesitant to bring him at first, but then I realized that this would be a great opportunity to use the Lord's perfect planning to bring a sliver of joy to my family in the time of grief. 

It worked. My grandmother had asked me to read a poem during the funeral, and I was wearing TH. I was wearing him and he was asleep. Until I started reading and he woke up and started trying to steal the paper from me. We then became the comedic relief portion of the service. It was the first time most of my family had met him, and I'm so glad they did.

Back row, left to right: Cousin Debbie, Uncle Timmy, Cousin Amanda, Cousin Alicia, Cousin Courtney, Cousin Brandon, Cousin Billy, Cousin Amber, Cousin Jennifer. Front row, left to right: Me, my mom, my grandma, Small Fry, my grandma's cousin Shelly, my sister Melissa, Aunt Kim

A pretty big portion of the family was there, though not everyone.

Mine and my mom's plan originally was to drive down Friday morning and back Monday morning, but since most of my family dispersed back to their respective homes on Sunday, my mom and I decided to split the trip back over two days. Half and half. So we opted for the scenic tour and completed the first round of TH's college tour.

We visited Florida State University, The University

of Florida, and Auburn University. Remember that

we visited the University of Alabama in November, 2015.

I also started a new tradition of posing TH next to big things. It was actually an accident, but a wonderful, wonderful accident. A happy accident, if you will. On the drive to Florida, mom and I stopped to stretch our legs, change and feed TH and grab a snack for ourselves. Lo and behold, just off to the right of the car was a giant cow. I looked at my mom, and we both knew. It had to happen. 

Shout out to Amanda for bringing to my attention

the fact that I cut off the tip of the cow's nose.

Then it became a thing. We went out of our way to find more large things to pose TH next to on the way back home. Our plan only included one thing- a big metal chicken just outside of Dothan, AL. BUT! We were lucky and we happened to stumble across a super random giant Peanut. So:

TH and the Giant Peanut. 

And finally, TH slept through his visit to the big metal chicken.

He isn't as into it as we are.

We took TH to see the super cliche PF Changs Horse, too.

In the rest of March, we've been enjoying some much nicer weather than we'd grown accustomed to. We've been taking lots of walks and spending lots of time on the back porch of our new house (maybe one day I'll get around to posting about the new house...).

Yes, it's a Mickey Mouse outfit, and yes, it has a tail.

And no, TH doesn't like the taste of the grass.

Four-and-a-half miles walks are exhausting

for babies wanting to look at everything.

Easter rolled around the TH's GG (my grandma) came to visit! We had a great time, even though I had to work, and TH was sick with an ear infection. Pictures (of the weekend, not the infection):

Hubs in the church nursery with all of his blonde-haired,

blue-eyed baby followers. These are his people. We have

(in no particular order) Winston L., Gus P., Greyson

W., Barret B., Benton W., and (not pictured) Lewis B.

Also, I totally met (the cardboard cut out of) the One-Year Crew Member Astronaut Scott Kelly.

The aforementioned Mickey tail.

You're welcome.

Three-Quarters of a Year.

This past Friday, Small Fry turned 8 months old. The first seventy-five percent of his first year of breathing oxygen is almost complete. Three-quarters of a year old. He's completed 8 months of the average lifespan of 948 months (79 years).

That's a pretty big deal. And he's learned SO much. And he's grown SO much. And he's become SO much fun.

The last time I wrote about him, he was 4.5 months old. He's almost twice as old now! Definitely twice as smart and twice as handsome.

Quick recap below. Lots of pictures, of course.

November was a busy month. He got baptized, celebrated his MiMi's birthday, showed us that he might be coming out of the always-screaming-when-on-his-belly phase, attended his first football game, celebrated his first Thanksgiving, and went bowling!

Getting his hand traced on the new sanctuary nursery!

So blessed to have so much family

surrounding him on such an important day

His favorite grandparents

MiMi's birthday!

Maybe tummy time isn't so bad?

We napped through most of the first half of the game.

Then woke up and made all the surrounding

patrons laugh because of his headphones!

Big shout out to the Wellmans for letting us borrow them.

Thanksgiving is exhausting for little boys..

So much food to look at and not eat.

This is probably not what the Ergo Carrier company

had in mind when they developed the product.

In December, he stood by himself for the first time, grew out of a hat, helped Mommie get ready for a few Christmas parties, grew out of a lot of clothes, sat in a high chair for the first time, and posed for a lot of Christmas-related pictures.

December 2, 2015

We retired all these clothes on one laundry day.

*Tries not to cry*

And now, a select few picture from the Christmas season:

Crisp, fresh air and a bit of drool.

Spending time with Puppy

Obviously we missed a golden opportunity to send our

child's butt to our friends on Christmas cards.

January came and went with Tiny Human's first snow, an astronaut suit, stabilized sitting, playing the "drums," bible stories, attempts at befriending Puppy, and attempting to crawl.

This was acceptable

This was not.

Seven months of heart-stealing.

February isn't finished yet, but he turned 8 months old on February 19, and started saying "dada" this month.

Such symmetry.