Whenever I look into his big blue eyes, I feel lost. He is such a beautiful boy. Especially now, since the days of snuggles and helpless cries have gone. He is so independent. He has always spoken well. He enunciates. In his high pitch voice, he very seriously says, "Actually mommie..." and I cannot help but belly laugh. That of course frustrates him and causes him to be even more articulate. He's small for his age so his outspokenness catches strangers off guard. His 34-lb body barely stands over 3 feet tall, which often causes people to call into question his age. But he is in fact 4 years old, plus a month. Most individuals make it clear how blessed we are to have a healthy child.

We are blessed. He is an amazingly vibrant boy. He is smart... and that is what others say about him (You can only imagine how brilliant I think he is). He is kind. He is generous. He is caring. He exudes good qualities. He is amazing. He is vibrant. He is not healthy.

I rarely speak about that aspect of our lives. It hurts too badly. He has never known any differently and a complaint never leaves his mouth. Instead, he will occasionally tell me in private about the pain. After seeing a specialist for the first year of his life relating to his sleep disorder, we felt a well-deserved reprieve. Until he turned 2 years old and this began. He has an autoimmune disorder which has only ever been unofficially diagnosed. He has seen dozens of doctors (one visit, he saw 5 at one time!) in several hospitals and practices. This one says it is beyond her area of expertise, this one says, "I'm a dermatologist, I can only treat what I see", this one says that the method of diagnosis is too invasive. All the while, I treat him at home, calling specialists when things gets too complicated, and wishing that Mary Poppins will find her way to our home with "a spoonful of sugar" and some medicine.

Leaving yet another specialist's office this afternoon leaves me feeling depleted. My little boy hurts and, even though he never speaks of it, he shouldn't hurt. He should be carefree. Instead I tote him to doctors who pass on the responsibility to another practitioner, requesting that we check back in a few months.

Somehow this dead end leaves me with hope. Even though we have no new information, we've checked one more name off the list.

Things I thought I'd never say as a parent...

Daddy to little boy J: "No, you don't have to eat the banana bread if you don't like it. But you cannot run over it with your tricycle."

Survivor: The Fishbowl

Sometimes I feel like my fish are stars in Fishie Survivor. The only issue is that "Boat" (as named by a 2 year old), is a year old and always seems to win. He doesn't play a fair fight either. He usually starts eating whatever fish remains before it has even lost the game. Now we are off to replace "George" before little guy J realizes that they aren't just playing hide-n-seek with each other.

Sounds that make us go.... OH NO!

Imagine ten minutes ago, the terror in my mind as I hear the toilet flushing. The hubs is in bed, so he can go leave for work at 8 pm. I rush to see what has taken the great white waterslide to its sewery demise, never to be seen again. I follow the trail of toothpaste, contact lens packets, and child flossers. I take a deep breath and look into the porcelain throne.

NOTHING.

I take a mental inventory of what likely occupied the packages. It all looks the same. I ask the little one if he can show me what he flushed. He looks back at me confused. His expression almost says, "What is supposed to be flushed?"

I go back in the living room. I separate myself from the ticker tape of thoughts going through my head. Baby J climbs on my lap and asks to cuddle a few minutes later. I ask him if his pants are wet, because he is due for a diaper change.

"Nope." He replies.

"Are your pants wet?" I ask.

"Nope. I went on the toilet."

"You went on the toilet?" I ask flabbergasted.

"Yep. I went in the big, white toilet. I said buh-bye to my potties."

My jaw drops. That explains the toilet flush. What a relief! He didn't flush my contacts or his dinner. And he is trying!

Now we just have to work on removing the underwear before going.

:)

My baby isn't anymore.

A few weeks ago, baby J made the connection that he is identified in a particular manner. He has called others by their names for awhile now. He knows his meemaw and peepaw. He knows his mommie and papa. He even knows his uncles and uncles by friendship. But when we would ask his name, he would reply with a confident "baby". I'm not sure how he adopted this name for himself, as he is never called baby. I call him "bugs" (not sure why) and papa calls him "little man". Other people call him by the shortened version of his name. I began to pay more attention to how other people identified him. Nope. Nobody calls him baby. I was fine with this reference for himself, because he is my baby and the nickname won't be fitting for much longer.

And he has already begun to outgrow it.

 A few days ago, while playing the "who's that?" name game, he called himself by his name.

In fact, I overheard he and his papa having a conversation yesterday. Papa reprimanded him for having his tongue out while climbing on the bed (he was getting the duvet wet) and asked if he was a little doggie. He replied, "I no doggie. I boy."

My baby J is redefining himself as a boy now. He is almost 2. He is a boy. And too rapidly in my opinion.

I'm baaa-ack...

Life is eventful and as a mommie, I feel pretty uncertain of every choice I make. But, usually, at the end of the day, I get a silent reassurance that we are doing just fine. When I look at my little guy slowly drifting into sleep while cuddling his "bwown bearw" book, I know that we are all going to be okay.

But yesterday, we had a long day. After looking forward for months to the visit of a traveling overseer to our congregation, we had to leave early. My poor baby J was having an issue again. The issue is one that we thought had been resolved over a month ago.

Go back 2 1/2 months...
We had tried nearly all natural methods, a few traditional ones, and finally had to mutually agree with our doctor that antibiotics seemed the best route to get this under control rapidly (as it had gone on for several weeks without improvement). He took a regimen of antibiotics and probiotics.We were ecstatic when it worked. The problem cleared up. And he had only a day of nasty antibiotic side effects.

Now to the present...
After napping peacefully as we listened to the well-prepared discourse by the traveling overseer, he woke rather pleasantly. I left the auditorium to change him and found that *sigh* it was back. We took our things, quietly left the auditorium, and proceeded to the emergency room. There, the physician's assistant recommended a straight catheter to retrieve a sterile urine sample for urinalysis and culture. I was happy that she was being so proactive, but secretly in terror that my boy would have to go through that. I quickly asked if I could breastfeed him while they placed the cath. The nurses looked at me like I was crazy. Here I am with a nearly 2 year old about to have a straight cath placed and I ask about nursing him during?!? They were apprehensive, but I stood out of the way, contorted myself as one nurse prepared to place the cath, the other held him down with my husband's assistance. It seemed like forever, but he nursed and occasionally let out a gasp of discomfort. Afterwards, the nurses said that went "surprisingly well". I'm sure they attributed none of it to the many positive results that breastfeeding a child in distress produces. But I do.

And so, while I get strange looks when I mention that I still breastfeed my 23 month old, I'm confident that I have made the right choice for my family. Had I not, he would've been a lot more traumatized and in more pain. I owe this one to our Grand Creator who knows what he is doing!

Learn more about the long-term benefits of breastfeeding.

Dairy-Free Day!!

It is so difficult to know what is dairy-free and what isn't. I've been wondering if baby J's restless nights are linked with somehting that I've been missing (or something that isn't missing) in his diet. Reaffirmed. Walking into Wendy's today, I noted a large chart, about the size of 3 posters, hanging as I entered the front door. It is a new feature and I am glad they have added it. It has a list of the 7 most common food allergens and their presence (or potential presence) in foods offered by the franchise. They are broken into 3 categories, distinguishable by different colored dots. Red means that the allergen is present, blue means that the food is cooked on the same surface or in the same oil as that allergen (and may be cross-contaminated), and green (?? the colors are on the chart, but I don't recall this one) means that the food is prepared or manufactured on the same line as the allergen (and may be cross-contaminated). Wow! What a concept! Just put it out there for everyone to see. So dairy-free at Wendy's is even more limited than I had believed. There were a lot of red dots. But now I know.

This encouraged me to venture into the land of the unknown regarding other fast food restaurants and allergen information. Here is what I've found so far. I will continue to update the list as I learn more. And remember that just like all processed foods, the ingredients continually change and so the facts today may not be the facts tomorrow.



McDonald's (note that the bottom section lists actual allergens- like milk- and what products they are in)

Arby's lists the allergens in red next to the name of the food item.

Burger King

Chipotle makes it easy by only using dairy in their cheese and sour cream. That's why we love you, Chipotle!

Panda Express says milk in the Orange Chicken and mixed veggies, so no more for baby J, but at least the Mandarin Chicken is still okay!

KFC says go for the Original or Grilled with Dairy allergies, but avoid anything breaded or extra crispy.

Popeye's makes you work for any info. They list all ingredients, but only a few allergens that are contained in each. For example, they list "wheat" as an allergen, but not "milk", although the ingredients clearly state that they contain milk. Sigh. Virtually everything has an allergen. Buh-bye.

You've got to love Subway for just putting it all out there. Usually good old non-processed ingredients.

Taco Bell lists the allergens in a great, easy to use chart; but it is only accessible online. It isn't possible to print it.

Wendy's who gave me this idea.

White Castle for those with iron stomachs.

Have fun eating out with the help of my list! These are just places local to me, but if you'd like to review other options, a great resource is the Go Dairy Free dining out guide and the shopping lists.

The newest family addition

Please allow me to take a moment to introduce the newest member of our family. She doesn't have a name yet, but already has a purpose. According to our latest library addition about potty learning, a doll which potties can help a child connect the idea of drinking, urinating, and wetness. So, today, we began our search for such a doll. First, please know that they only come in pink. Some are even capable of pooping, if fed special separately purchased "baby food". But baby J liked this little girl. She has her own potty which is very similar to his froggy potty (also chosen by him, per "the book"). We searched for big boy pants and found "mouse" (Mickey Mouse Clubhouse) underpants which he gleefully carried around the store.

When it comes to such matters, there is no shortage in the potty market. Actualy potties can range from $9.99 to unlimited amounts (the most expensive I found was $80.99!! It had better train the child for you). Some have splash guards or music or handle bars. There are "starter potties" and those for advanced children. The book section is loaded with wisdom on the matter too. But, when you make it to the potty-ing dolls, expect a limited selection of girl dolls.

One comes with juice packets, baby food, and disposable diapers (I'm too cheap to buy them for my own son, why would I buy them for a doll?!?). The other comes with cloth diapers, a potty chair, and a BPA-free (not really) bottle.

Everything Potty Training Book: $9.99

Lots to Love Babies potty doll with accessories: $15.00

"Mouse" underpants: $9.99

Baby J splashing in LTLB's toilet water: Priceless

Tot Time

Baby feet in the swimming pool are the cutest. I love baby J's little toes anyways, but to see them beneath the water makes them appear even more magical. Those little round toes remind me of grapes fresh off the vine; I just want to gobble them up (don't tell James that I said that; he's never understand that phrase.) Baby J was especially fond of looking at them once I pointed them out too.

We scrambled frantically to the froggie slide. We were the second people in line at the gate. While tot time is restricted to children under 6, children under 6 can still be stressful to a little guy. Last time we were there, baby J saw the slide. And baby J loves slides (the way I love baby feet). So he ran to it. Once he got to the top step, though, he found it a bit intimidating. And the boy who pushed him down it didn't make him less paranoid. Today, I hoped to conquer the fear before the others arrived. He did come down the slide, but not the way you think. He pushed his way down the steps when the hoards of children under 6 arrived. Hopefully next week will be more promising.

The cutest part, though, was that the whole time we were hanging out in the pool, he kept gravitating towards the large, twisty waterslides. I'd hate to be the kid waiting behind baby J in that line! Thankfully, that is a few years off.

While we didn't make much progress in overcoming the slide fear, we did have a great time together just splashing and walking in the water. That's where you'll find us twice a week. By the end of the summer, he should be holding his own on that froggie.

so many things to do and so little time...

Over the course of one day, baby J becomes so many things...

the molder of Play-doh, (Due to his infatuation with all things in the shapes of balls, I taught him to roll a small clump of play-doh between the palms of his hands. He now endearingly refers to yet another object as "balls")

the maker of trouble, (the expression is "No... No." With as frequently as he says the word, people must think that we don't say anything but "No... No".)

the adventurous explorer of wetness,

the happy boy who wishes to play,

the boy who asks "Where is he?" and then playfully pops out saying "There he is!" (We would ask him this and when we'd uncover our eyes or come out of hiding, we would say "There he is!". So, if you are ever wondering why he looks cluelessly at you when you go "Peek-a-Boo", it was unintentional on our part. He knows the game, but plays it a little differently.)

the saver of pennies, (Hopefully we will instill in him the ability to be thrifty and content.)

 

and, of course, our cool guy.

Childhood memories... Oh, how refreshing.

Recently I learned that a friend of mine locally is well-acquainted with some of my childhood friends from my birthplace. It triggered so many memories. The one that is more prominent in my mind, is that pictured here. I have looked at a collage of pictures, including this one, so many times and happily remembered being a child.

My parents had set up a large tarp on this huge hill in our backyard. I know that it wasn't all that, but in the mind of a child, it was the best thing on earth. As I look at our faces, all I see is carefree whimsy. Ahhhh... The life of a child.

I love taking time to remember when life was a simple as a big tarp, a hill, and a water hose. How refreshing. I loved being a child. But I think I love being a mommie more and seeing those bright happy eyes over such simple pleasures.  I love knowing that baby J will have memories like this.

Oh, by the way, I am the one front and center.

Mommiehood: Feeling His Pain

Since becoming a mommie, I've often had the opportunity presented to me to recount my own childhood.

I've shared many of those experiences. Many of them are lessons I learn as I see baby J learn them.

Today, we shared another of those. As a child, I remember vividly the excitement of having plans. Knowing that a friend was coming over or an outing to the zoo was enough to brighten the gloomiest days. I would eagerly anticipate and remind myself repeatedly and sometimes even have countdowns. And then the phone would ring and my mom would break the bad news... cancelled.

My mom would always comfort me and remind me that everything would be okay. She would even make alternate plans, but it just wasn't the same. And I honestly believed that she had no idea how much it hurt...

... until today.

This afternoon baby J had a playdate. When I told him about it this morning, he was so excited. He kept telling his papa and even using his little buddy's name. "Park.... park." Then, the dreaded text arrived. My heart immediately sank. I think that it affected me more that it did him. How can I explain this to a 19-month old? He isn't going to understand. He was so excited!

That is when the epiphany arrived. How often I had told my mom that you don't know what it feels like. And she would look at me and tell me that it was okay. Then we would spend that time together.

It still broke my heart to see those sad little eyes when he awoke from his nap only to be on his way back home. But we spent our afternoon together. And we can never have too much time together, right?

Blah blah blah log

My own mom called me yesterday. She had a confession. She confessed to me that she has an addiction, one that she has not been able to satisfy for 16 days (17 days today). She is a junkie of my blog. And everyday she logs onto her computer to check for updates. Well, before she brought it to my attention, I hadn't even realized that I haven't blogged in that long. And she is having serious withdrawal.

Being so far from family and friends, I forget that my daily routine can be kind of exciting. That the new little things that the little man does are new. But, sometimes I just get tired of hearing myself talk. While thinking about this, I came to the conclusion that "blog" is actually a combination of the words blah blah blah and log. Nonetheless, I will try with due diligence to blah blah log more frequently.

Here goes....

... thinking to myself... What to talk about? Oh, baby J (can anyone think of a better nickname for my little man? He isn't really a baby anymore, but toddler J sounds strange. And I am already acquainted with another blogger who calls her little guy "the toddler". Suggestions would be appreciated.)

Where was I? Oh, baby J and a friend of ours, Tony, were sitting together reading a book last Monday. Tony did the reading and baby J turned the pages. After papa and Tony left for work, I overheard baby J talking in his bedroom. Granted, he doesn't say many words yet, but he says a lot. When I peeked in on him, there he sat on the floor with a book on his lap. He was turning the pages and pointing at the words. As he was pointing, he was saying "this this that this this that this this that". I'm so glad that I have an avid reader already!

You can dress 'em up...

... but you can't take 'em out.

In anticipation of one of our annual Bible conventions, I purchased baby J this suit. I was so excited because it just seemed so classic. The little tie has grey sailboats on it. When I dressed him in it, I couldn't get over how adorable he looked, my little guy. But recently, I have found that the best way to stave off the morning meltdown is to give him a pair of shoes to wear. I handed him his little beige wingtips to play with. Guess what he decided he wanted instead?!? As is evident by the photo, his black Batman snow boots. I can list at least 5 ways that these were so wrong for the outfit- # 1) black, # 2) rubber, # 3) Batman, # 4) it was nearly 50 degrees outside, and, of course, # 5) not what I would've picked out.

But he was content for the entire one-hour commute. Hopefully, he eventually outgrows the uncoordinated phase. Until then, at least we can halt a meltdown as easily as giving him a pair of Batman boots.

Kids Say...

When my 4 year old nephew saw me breastfeeding Baby J. He asked, "Is that where you keep his milk?" When I replied affirmatively, he quickly responded, "I keep mine in the fridge." Put a smile on my face.

A tribute to the most wonderful husband and father.

It isn't nearly often enough that I gloat about my husband. So, let me take a moment to do so.

When I'm feeling faint of heart
With little energy left,
He's the one who lifts me up
And gives me needed rest.

When baby J is fussing
As he has been all day long,
He's the one who assures me
That I've done nothing wrong.

When dinner is cold and chewy
But we've nothing else to eat,
He's the one who challenges me
To not concede defeat.

So while I'm a lot of effort
And sometimes not much fun,
He's reassuring me that
I'm his only one.

While it may seem trivial
To feel so deeply wanted,
He has always done so
And never needed to flaunt it.

To him I am grateful
For the life we three share.
And so I dedicate my heart
To my husband dear.

Who does he look like.... at 6 months?

People often ask me whom baby J looks more like. This is one of only 2 pictures that I have from my husband's childhood, so there isn't much to compare. You be the judge. :)

Memories are made today

While talking to my mom about an invasion made on her computer by some hacking hooligans, I suggested that she immediately back up all her digital photos onto compact disks to ensure their preservation. The conversation got us thinking. If there were a fire and you had opportunity to grab one thing (after loved ones were already safe), most of us mommies would say that we would take our scrapbooks. Virus on your computer?Same thing, save the photos.

Our memories are priceless. They are more valuable than any material possession and have greater impact on who we are than heredity. But life often becomes so hectic, that our memories become digital documents or glossy pages, instead of fixtures of our minds. Please understand that I am in no way degrading photos. Photos are both a creative outlet and valuable documentation of events. But sometimes I find myself forgetting that an event even occurred until the visual image is presented.

So, as we embark on a new year which is a wonderful occasion for new beginnings, I am going to slow down. I hope to create just as many memories as photos. Then, when in need, I can draw the memory and feelings to mind without relying on something physical.

The physical can be easily destroyed but who we are as a person is enduring.

Have a happy, memory creating weekend!

Becoming A Big Boy

Baby J turned 16 months old last Friday. I suppose that while he is my baby, he isn't really a baby and friends will soon start correcting my reference to him as such.

He is walking (sprinting, in fact), climbing, hurdling, jumping, bouncing, and chatting. His curiousity is abounding with nearly constant 'ats dis? (loosely translated as "what's this?") and dat (translated "that"). He is infatuated with every sort of animal and anything with wheels.

The realization grew even more apparent as he had his third (yes, third) haircut in 3 months. I love his naturally highlighted locks and how as a baby he could get away with the shagginess. But the struggle that ensued each time the scissors grew near his head caused great anxiety. True, a bowl of popcorn and his own comb calmed the situation, but the anxiety was still present. So, in an effort to reduce the number of occasions to pin him down to have his lovely locks snipped, poppy and I agreed to a shorter cut. While he still maintains the pudgy cheeks and the tiny nose of a baby, he has begun to look like a boy.

While it is inevitable, does it have to creep up so rapidly?

Baby J and His Bathtub Toys

Baby J is in the bathtub right now. His papa is giving him a bath. He is playing with his rubber ducky and tug boat. When he has the ducky in his hand, he says, Kack kack. When he has his boat in his hand, he says, Voom voom.

He is growing much too quickly!