Down for the count

Last Thursday for the first time ever I had to call my daycare parents and ask them to come and pick up their kids.  I had a fever, chills, the shakes, a runny nose, a headache, I was a total mess.  Brandon had to come home from work to take care of our kids and I was pretty much MIA for the remainder of the weekend.  We tried to get some stuff done, but halfway through our Saturday morning WalMart trip, I was certain I was going to die, and we had to go home.

The kids and I took turns sounding like we were going to cough up a lung, and we all pretty much slept for most of the weekend.  Surprisingly, Monday morning I felt like a new person!  A little bit of a cough remained, but I really felt much better.  

Having to clean up the mess that was made while I was hiding in my room knocking in death's door has made me quite grateful for my health in more ways than one.  I was amazed at the sheer amount of dishes and laundry that can accumulate in only a few days.  Brandon did a good job making sure that all the kids were still breathing at the end of the weekend, but his contribution pretty much stopped there.  Daddys just aren't equipped with the ability to multi task!

Now that we are recovered, we are looking forward to spring break (sort of) and have a couple fun things planned.  Hopefully our trip to Sapora next week will leave me with some amusing stories to share.  I suppose anything must be better than reading about my excuses for not writing anything important for a month!

Fever Phobia

On Monday we were at my pediatrician, whom I love.  In her office was  a posting about fevers.  As a firm believer in letting  a fever "do its job" it was refreshing to read what she had posted.  I am uncertain of the origins of this article, but believe it may have been written by the Dr because it wasn't notated anywhere, just posted on her wall.

Fever Phobia

 

Misconceptions about the dangers of fever are very common.  Many parents lose sleep and experience unnecessary stress due to unwarranted concerns about the harmful side effects from fever.

 

Fevers are part of the body’s effort to activate the immune system, so they are one of our innate protective mechanisms.  Most fevers are good for children because fevers help them to fight infection.

 

The body’s temperature fluctuates throughout the day and peaks in the later afternoon and evening.  For instance, an oral or axially (under the arm) temperature can be 97.6° F in the morning and go to a high of 99.5° in the evening.  Similarly, a rectal temperature can be as low as 98.4° F in the morning and become as high as 100.3° F in the late afternoon.

 

If your child has a fever, remember to stay calm and use the following definitions to put your child’s fever into perspective.

 

100-102°F            Low-grade fevers are beneficial.  Try to keep the fever in this range.

102-104°F            Moderate grade fevers are beneficial.

>104°F            High fevers cause discomfort, but are harmless.

>105°F            Higher risk of bacterial (not viral) infections with very high fever.  This is

when you should call your pediatrician.           

 

Many people mistakenly believe that fevers cause brain damage and that temperatures about 104°F are dangerous.  However, fevers with infections don’t cause brain damage.  Only body temperatures over 108° can cause brain damage, and body temperature only climbs to this level with every high environmental temperatures (like in a closed car).

 

Fevers only need to be treated if they cause discomfort, and these are usually fevers over 102 or 103°F.  The exact number of the temperature or fever is not as important as how your child looks.  Is he/she alert, interactive, curious despite the fever?  Is he/she drinking and urinating?  Most children with temperatures below 105°F are alert and interactive despite their fever.  These are the questions that should be asked to determine if you should seek out a doctor’s care (unless your child is less than four months of age). 

 

If you treat a fever, temperatures don’t always normalize.  With treatment, temperatures often drop 2 or 3 degrees Fahrenheit, usually enough to allow your child to feel a little better.  And if the fever doesn’t “break” this isn’t cause for alarm.  There is no greater risk that a fever doesn’t come down is caused by a serious infection.  Fevers that don’t respond to fever medicine (usually ibuprofen or acetaminophen) can be caused by viruses or bacteria. 

 

Fevers will not continue to climb higher and higher if not treated.  Fevers from infection usually stop rising at about 105-106°F or lower, because the brain’s thermostat keeps the body temperatures lower than this.

 

Not every child with a fever is at risk for a febrile seizure.  Only about 4% of all children will ever have a febrile seizure.  If your child has a febrile seizure, though it is scary to watch, they cause no permanent harm and usually last less than 5 minutes.  Children who experience febrile seizures have no increased risk of developmental delay, learning disability, or epilepsy.

Some great info for everyone to consider!

this isn't what I supposed to be doing

The boys are at wrestling practice, I have a huge pile of sewing that needs to be finished, dinner needs to be made, and my house is a disaster, but I have had a request (I swear, for real) to write about a birth story or two, and I just got a text that said a friend of mine was in labor, so I am in a baby kind of mood.

Garrett's birthday last weekend made me a little melancholy, so I will start with him. Because I have, well, zero personal boundaries, this might be kind of graphic for some of my readers, so at the advice of my friend Tina:

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK :)

On February 10th I went to see the midwife, and I swore I had been having contractions the night before. She checked me and said there was definitely going ons, the baby was facing the right way, which was great because until the week prior he had been breech, but no real concern that the baby would come in the next few hours, so go home, relax, and jokingly she told me to clean the living room because she thought she would be by to deliver a baby within the next day. I made an appointment to come back to see her on Valentine's day if there wasn't a baby yet, but I was certain that wouldn't be necessary. I was so disappointed when Valentine's day rolled around and I was still pregnant.

My mom came with me to the appointment so I didn't have to take all the kids in with me. I have had my share of vaginal exams with little people standing at my feet, and I was most certainly not in the mood today. The midwife checked me again. She was really quiet. I was a little concerned, because she is a pretty chatty lady, so of course I asked what was going on. She said that the baby had moved up, further away from my cervix, and where I had been dilated a few days earlier, I was now not. No baby for me today. Maybe not til next week.

Are you kidding me? How to you un-dilate? You can't be less ready to have baby than you were five days before. What kind of evil joke is it for the baby to 'back up"?

I was upset, crying actually, because Levi was almost 2 weeks late and I was miserable everyday after my due date. I made another appointment for the following Monday, convinced I was doomed to be pregnant forever, and went out to my mom. I had hoped to go to the mall to walk or something, but the appointment had taken so long she had to go to work, and I had to go home with the kids. I was in a pretty pathetic mood for the remainder of the day.

Then, as many of you know, that was the day the shootings happened at NIU. I live just up the road from the University, so there was a barrage of ambulances, fire trucks, and police cars zooming past my house for several hours. As the news coverage continued, it took my mind off of my own situation, and I figured I should probably make dinner.

I headed to the kitchen and put Italian sausage in the pan. I remember distinctly what I was making because while I was upstairs having a baby, my dad, brother, and husband ATE MY DINNER!! While making dinner I had an uncontrollable urge to take a shower. I told Brandon her had to finish making dinner so I could take a shower. Although I am certain he thought I was nuts, he did what I said, after all I was 9 months pregnant... was he really going to argue with me?

As soon as I got in the shower, the contractions started coming so hard and fast I couldn't breathe. I got on my hands and knees and tried to yell for someone, anyone, but no noise would come out. I have no idea how long I was actually in the shower. It felt like forever, but was really in the time frame of 5-7 minutes. I heard Charlotte coming up the stairs and Brandon telling her to stay downstairs, Mommy needed to be alone. Luckily, Charlotte doesn't listen when we tell her to not do stuff, so she came in the bathroom by me anyway. I sent her downstairs to get Brandon. When he came upstairs and I told him to call the midwife, he started to ask me questions like "are you sure you are really in labor this time?" "are you timing contractions?"

Logically, and a year after the event, those were probably valid questions, at the time I don't think I reacted quite like he expected. I am pretty sure I informed him in my most calm manner (ha!) I had not taken a watch in to the shower and I have had three other children of course I am in labor. He ran to get the phone, called the midwife, then called my mom.

My mom came over to check on me, and Brandon was running around downstairs trying to feed the three other kids, fill the birthing pool, and talk to the midwife on the phone because she was trying to get to me in a snow storm and during rush hour. My mom was trying to coax me out of the shower so we could go downstairs near the birthing pool. I was adamantly refusing. Finally she just turned the water off in the shower. I told her what I thought about that just about as calmly as I had told Brandon to call the midwife. I angrily got out of the tub, took two steps to the bed, and then headed toward the toilet. I thought I just had to go to the bathroom, but really there was a baby crowning instead.

All I remember of the next few minutes was my mom telling me not to push (I swear I wasn't) and this deer in the headlights expression on her face. Never did she voice her concern, but I think she was afraid I might drop the baby in the toilet. Before I knew it, the baby had come completely out. I unwrapped the cord from his neck, instinctively got all the goop out of his mouth with my fingers, and my mom was calling for Brandon. The midwife who was on the phone with Brandon thought we were kidding.

From the time I got into the shower to the time I had a baby in my hands was less than 30 minutes. It was crazy. We had to wait for the midwife to show up! She checked the baby over, helped me with the after birth, and before she could even fill out the birth record, got a call to go to another birth!! A short while later I realized I was starving. I really wanted and Italian Sausage sandwich... but they had all been eaten!!

Brandon made me something else to eat, and the kids came up to meet the new baby. They wanted to know if NOW we were going to get in the pool in the living room? They had seen Levi being born, so they knew what the tub was for, but this time, they missed the whole thing and they were utterly confused!!

The next week wasn't quite as eventful, although Garrett didn't have a name until he was more than three days old. We simply were convinced that he was going to be a "she" and never came up with a boys name! The kids thought Peter Pan would be appropriate (Mommy did not) The jokes about naming him John weren't very funny immediately post-pardum, but I do have to chuckle about them now. He turned a year old last Saturday and is doing fine. Nearly being born in the toilet seems to have had no negative effects, yet.

I hope that this satisfies some of the enquiring minds :) I am sure I left out all sorts of information that I will think of at two o'clock tomorrow morning. But, you will just have to wait until chapter two, I suppose. I will most likely work my way backwards to Mason, although I may have blocked out most of that one!! Off to make dinner!

I always wanted to be a writer

In a moment of weakness this morning, I sat down to write about how I had taken some time to evaluate my life and where it is now. The original post included my frustrations of unfulfilled dreams, missed chances and opportunities, misguided choices, and a little bit of self loathing. As I was writing that blog, I was interrupted numerous times by the baby crying, toddlers demanding juice, the awful smell of a diaper in desperate need of changing, my four year old daughter pummeling her two year old brother, and the dog puking on the floor after I ignored his whines to be let out. After tending to all those situations, I returned to my half finished writing, and re-read it to get back on my train of thought.

As I read, I began to cry. I always wanted to be a writer. (If you ask my mom, I always wanted to be a bus driver, but that dream has actually been fulfilled). Creative writing, journalistic reports, picture captions, technical manuals, it didn't matter, I wanted to write it. Somewhere along the way, I strayed slightly and became a teacher. My first post seemed to dwell on that point in my life as if it was a disappointing detour. Although I teaching was not as fun as I thought it would be, it did teach me a lot about myself. (most importantly, that I didn't want to be a teacher).

The post went on to comment on how my daily routine is depressing, stressful, and at times beneath me. When I reread that, I was utterly disappointed in myself. Although I have been known to mutter out loud "I graduated from college to do this?" I love my children, nasty diapers and all, more than I could ever show them. All of the negative aspects of my current profession are just in my head. Never should I feel like any of it is beneath me. If anything, for the most part I am probably not worthy. I have the challenge of making sure my children turn into productive, sane, contributing members of society. I have been doubly charged with aiding other parents in completing the same mission. What a dauntingly awesome task. What "profession" could offer me that kind of responsibility and ownership?

I also spent a fair amount of the original post whining about the tight financial situation that is my life at the moment. Many of my friends have high paying professions, jet setter lifestyles, and a freedom that I haven't known in more than 7 years. But, they don't have what I have. The honor of being able to stay at home with my children is the most fantastic gift my husband could offer me. It means a lot of coupon cutting and making due, but the payment is truly priceless. Instead of focusing on how "unfun" it is to make hard choices in the budget, I need to look around and my nice house, my clothed children, the food on the table, and the smiles on their faces when Mommy can come to the classroom Valentine's day party.

And those dashed dreams to be a writer? The most writing I do is letting the teacher know Mason won't be riding the bus today, or spelling Charlotte's name for the millionth time so she can copy it on her paper. Although it isn't earth shattering reporting, or novel worthy content, it is incredibly important. I am not saying I would turn down a freelance/work from home writing opportunity if it were offered to me (wink, wink), but I won't be racing out to corporate America any time soon.

My life may seem boring, or unimportant to many. I know it did to me before I wrote it down like that, but I wouldn't trade it for all the tea in China. I will have plenty of time to work on those other dreams. I know that time will come sooner than I can imagine.

Now if you'll excuse me, I must let the dog back in, refill sippy cups, start making lunch, answer the phone, change the baby, plan dinner, make a grocery list, vacuum the cookies off the living room floor, pay the bills, balance the check book, put the laundry away, change the sheets on the bed, read a story, prepare a game for Friday's class party, return an email to Mason's teacher, feed the dog, take the garbage out, check the mail.......

One night

A few nights back, I had the grand idea that I would go to bed early. I got all the kids bathed and in bed by 8:30. I made the morning coffee, tidied up the downstairs, set my alarm for 5:30am, and brushed my teeth. In bed, ready to sleep by 9:15.

9:30-Mason wants water
10:25-Charlotte gets up to go to the bathroom (in my room)
11:15-baby wakes up screaming. I start to walk to his room, killing about 12 army guys with my bare feet.
12 midnight--I stumble back to my own bed, taking out the remainder of the maimed army platoon, again with my bare feet.
1:30-I wake to the smell of coffee. Apparently I hit the wrong button on the coffee machine, causing it to make coffee in the middle of the night instead of 5am. I go downstairs and remake the coffee.
2:50-Mason says he had a bad dream, can he sleep with me.
2:55, 3:00, 3:02, 3:05, 3:08, 3:11--I get kicked in the back, head, and stomach multiple times by a sound asleep 6 year old in my bed.
3:15- I tell Mason he has to sleep in his own bed. He begs me to walk with him because it is dark. I remember the hallway full of army guys, and put my slippers on. Slippers are full of Lincoln Logs. I swear out loud, waking up the Levi.
3:16-Get Mason in bed only to have to lay down with Levi in a toddler bed.
3:45-Think Levi is asleep and start to head back to my room. Levi screams and wants me to refill his humidifier. I walk back to the bathroom, refill tank, get it situated, and crawl into bed.
4:00- Brandon's alarm goes off. He hits snooze.
4:09, 4:18, 4:27-Brandon hits snooze.
4:36-Alarm goes off again, I kick Brandon in the back and tell him he better get up before I kill him.
5:30-my alarm goes off, I can't reach the snooze button, so I reluctantly get up and start the shower.
5:45-I go downstairs, pour a cup of coffee and realize I forgot to add new grounds when I remade the pot last night, so I pretty much have a cup of dirty water.
6:00 I sit down at computer, exhausted, hoping to steal a minute to check my email. Mason comes downstairs, carrying Garrett, saying he was up and crying. I get everyone ready for the day, continually telling myself I will miss this when I am older.

January

If I'm gonna stick to blogging 2x a month, I better get cracking. So much has been happening here I feel like I hardly have a chance to breathe, let alone hang out at the computer. For the time being the kids are occupied with Thomas trains scattered all over the living room, so I will take this small reprieve and catch up on our life!

We had a great Christmas and loved the opportunity to see everyone. Oh, "Great" is a loose term, only being able to be applied after the trauma has passed. Christmas Eve we spent with my dad's extended family. Luckily for us, this year it was at my parents house, which is next door. It snowed like no other that morning, so I was very glad to not have to travel with all my monkeys. We had a nice time that evening, even though we didn't make it home until after midnight. Then we had to wait while the kids went to sleep in order for Santa to come. By 2 am, we were finally ready for bed. At about 2:15, Mason woke up puking everywhere. Several hours of dealing with him throwing up, then the other kids were ready to open presents. Gramma, Papa, Uncle Matt and Aunt Heather all came over for presents, and more puking from now the other kids. This included Charlotte exploding all over Gramma's lap. FANTASTIC.

After presents, we got the kids to rest for awhile before having to load up and go to Brandon's mom's. This year, Gramma Dorothy was not feeling well enough to leave the nursing home, so Christmas was shortened as all the adults left to go see Gramma. I didn't think it wise to bring four tired, crabby (and puking!) kids to the nursing home, so we went home. The kids were fast asleep by 8 pm, but took several days to fully recover from the Christmas excitement.

New Year's Eve was a blast. We had my cousin, her husband, and their kids spend the night. The kids played nonstop til way past midnight and it was great to hang out and have adult conversation for awhile! I still don't think I have made up for the sleep I lost that night, but it was worth it!

On January 5th I started Daycare again. It actually has been a blessing in many ways. It keeps our days on track, gives the kids a great distraction, and has relieved some of our growing financial pressures. I am not a fan of having to get up so early in the morning, but there are worse things in life!

I have some cute stories to share, which hopefully Thomas the Tank will allow me to post today. Some of our schools are closed, so I have extra kids today, but Mason had to go to school. He was none too pleased! The added kids will either prevent any and all writing, or add to the distractions and keep the littler kids busy!

A month again!

It is already 8:30, I am still in my pajamas. The house is a disaster, clean laundry scattered in piles on the living room floor, dirty cereal bowls on the kitchen table, bills that need to be paid, bathrooms that need to be cleaned, Christmas cards that don't even stand a chance of getting out by Christmas. How has it been a month since I have written anything if nothing else is getting done?

We did go spend a fabulous week with my Nana in Florida. With the exception of the ridiculously long car ride with all four kids, we had an excellent time. As I grow up, I am learning what important lessons can be learned if you just listen. Why did I wait so long to learn that lesson? How do I teach it to my kids before it is too late and so much of that great knowledge is lost?

Brandon bought me an incredibly awesome sewing/embroidery machine for my birthday (and once I learned how much it cost, it is for my Christmas, Mother's day, anniversary and probably next year's birthday too) but I have been having a great time getting to learn how to use it and am looking forward to all of the cool things I can make. The kids might soon grow tired of having their name sewn on to everything they own, but for now it is great!

I made the all important and difficult decision to re-enter the world of daycare. I am going to start (and hopefully) stay small for at least a year or two. I am taking back a family that I had before and I am looking forward to new playmates for the kids and some of the challenges that come with having other people's most prized possession in my home. I can't lie either and the added income will make life a little more comfortable and not so strained like it has been for the last year.

I'm sure in the last month a lot more has gone on, but nothing that has left enough of an impression that I can think of it early in the morning before the coffee has kicked in. My early new year's resolution (in addition to eating better, losing weight before May, counting to ten before I explode, and making beds everyday) is to blog at least twice a month. I would love to write more, but let's be realistic here!! This way I can make sure all of you out in cyber land know what's up at our house!! I am sure the quotes will be fun in the coming months of new additions as well. Love you all!