Murderer of Fun

I love the movie, Dan in Real Life, and my absolute favorite line from this movie is, "YOU are a MURDERER of LOVE!" This line is shouted at Dan (played by Steve Carell) by his teenage daughter who is experiencing the usual teenager/love angst.

As I've processed and replayed in my mind, a certain episode of my own life in which Isabella told me she "wished she never had a mommy", and didn't like me, I can't help but think, I am a MURDERER of FUN (and LOVE)! How often have you thought the same thing of your own parents. It's basically the definition of parent--murderer of fun; destroyer of fun; revoker (that's not a word, but it should be) of fun; the one who depletes fun. That is, until you become a parent, and realize that your own parents, for the most part, were completely reasonable when they seemingly plotted to destroy your fun. On most occasions, they weren't heartless and weren't trying (especially) hard to ruin your life, they were just trying to protect you, or steer you in the right direction. In Isabella's case, I was showing her an example on the board of how to write a word so that all the letters belonging to that particular word are close together, and then, has a noticeable space, informing the reader that they are now reading a new word. Example: Jules cango tothe d    une s. As the reader, I'm sure you appreciate reading, Jules can go to the dunes, instead. I could be wrong.

This morning I saw a book recommendation on Dig This Chick's facebook page. The book is, Peaceful Parent, Happy Kids: How to stop yelling and start connecting by Dr. Laura Markham. I found myself in an incredibly calm state when Isabella told me she "wished she never had a mommy". I calmly told her she was unkind, and needed to go to her room until we could talk. Later we resolved the issue, but I'm not always calm, and I certainly yell because it feels like most of what I say during a day falls on deaf ears--five year old kids have a very hard time hearing--don't worry, I've had her hearing checked on more than one occasion.

As I sipped my coffee Saturday morning, I read the introduction to the book, about not yelling. An hour later we went outside, and Isabella, who has yet to understand that when you suggest something, Isaac assumes it will happen instantly. Like any almost three year old, he doesn't have a concept of time, so when someone, say, Isabella, says, "Isaac! Do you want to go to Oma's house?!" He wants to go to Oma's house that minute. I yelled. We were having a happy moment outside, and she planted this idea in his head that we would go to Oma's house, and he had a meltdown, because that wasn't going to happen. Happy moment no longer. I stomped into the house with a screaming Isaac, and complained to Walter, and then we both burst out laughing because I told him I was reading a book about not yelling and I just frickin' yelled! 

I walked the walk of parental shame, and went outside and apologized to Isabella for yelling, and explained, once again, that Isaac does not understand the concept of time.

***

After a sudden desire to relive my youth, I downloaded Oregon Trail on the iPad. We hunted squirrels, fished, walked off broken legs, arms, and cholera. Isabella said it was the most fun she'd ever had.

Outside, before I yelled. Please note, Isabella's outfit (and she says my nicest outfit is a bathing suit--I really can't trust her fashion judgement), and Isabella cheering for Isaac when he walked across the grass. This morning, as we were playing at catch at 7:30 a.m. and Isaac caught the ball, she said, "Sometimes, he just does such amazing things, that I cry!" They're both amazing little people.

 If you have any questions about strokes, ask Isaac. He studied this flyer for about fifteen minutes.

First Band-aid

Last night, as I added the finishing touches to our beef stew, Isabella came upstairs and said, "it's an emergency!", Isaac was bleeding and needed a band-aid. I basically ignored my ever-dramatic first-born. I wasn't alarmed because Walter was in the basement with the kids, and Isaac wasn't crying, so, no crying is always a good sign. But I did eventually wander down to see what happened. He had the tiniest pin-prick on one of his fingers. I thought he wouldn't be able to handle a band-aid, because he's like that, and doesn't like certain things touching him, but he insisted, so I wrapped it carefully around his little finger, anticipating the moment he would realize the band-aid was a death trap. As it turns out, band-aids are not death traps, and he handled the whole thing beautifully.

Walter and I searched the floor for the prickly culprit and came up with nothing, then we looked at each other, both thinking the same thought, right in that moment, this is the first time he's bled that wasn't caused by a surgeon cutting into him. 

It has been a year since Isaac's last surgery, and I am looking forward to another year without any surgeries on the schedule.

This morning I removed the band-aid, and he promptly requested a new one (in his way, of course. Which is basically a lot of pointing and grunting.). I offer no shortage of band-aids in this house. When Isabella was Isaac's age, she used to have band-aids lining both legs. Strangers would ask her what happened, and if she was okay. She was fine, she entertained herself for an hour with those band-aids, so we were both happy. Then, after a week of wearing the same string of Hello Kitty band-aids, we pried them from her legs as she screamed, and found that she had a latex allergy. The result, red welts where band-aids once happily rested. Now we buy latex free band-aids.

Isaac ventured outside this morning with Isabella. He walked across the yard like Bambi, but it gave me hope that this summer will be better than last, and we just might be able to enjoy our yard again. I just hope our "hope" isn't going to get the best of us. Walter and I are excited to have a real garden this year--one that we actually have the energy to care for, and pick the vegetables before they rot--we are basing that excitement on the few times that Isaac has actually walked across the grass.

Either way, in three weeks, we will celebrate Isaac's third birthday, and last summer, we predicted that Isaac would maybe start walking when he turned three. Here he is, defying all expectations, and learning to run.

My story, Isabella's story...

A few people have asked why I haven't written a blog post recently. I don't have a good answer other than, I've been stuck in a book, my computer died, came back to life, died again, and came back to life again, and I live with incredibly needy people and will be so happy when one day, they can hunt, gather, and prepare their own food.

Stuck in a Book

If you haven't read it, you should: The Snow Child by Eowyn Ivey. Basically, it's a novel about Alaskan homesteaders in the 1920s. Following a friend's recommendation, I added it to my Nook, and was gripped with intrigue from the first few pages. Did you like that, gripped with intrigue. What does that even mean? Anyway, the premise of the story comes from a Russian fairy tale, which you can read at this LINK. The author has an amazing ability to set you, the reader (assuming you are going to read it), in the Alaskan wilderness in a way that you can really imagine the harsh elements and all that the early homesteaders had to endure. Along with all of that, the story centers around an elderly couple who bear the burden of years of sorrow after losing a child and never being able to conceive again. Hence, the child, they construct out of snow. And now you're convinced and have to read it. I can't write anymore about that because Isaac, sitting next to me at the table, trying to poop, is seriously interrupting my creative writing flow--You can do it Bud, push! Get the poop out! Now you can see why it is so challenging to get a post done.

Death of a Computer (and Rebirth)

Last week my computer started to sound like a police siren. It would stop for a few minutes at a time, so  I checked email, facebook, and a few blogs. Then the siren got really mad and wouldn't shut up, so I had to shut down my computer. Thankfully, Walter was able to fix it, and Shakespeare and I were back in business. Yes, my computer's name is Shakespeare. My last computer was named Hemingway, but he's in Columbus with my grandma. Well, then Shakespeare decided he didn't like how the screen worked and decided to just turn black and not do anything. I'm not sure what Walter did, but so far so good. I think I'll name my next computer after a female author.

Hunting and Gathering

I am so tired of people asking me for food. It literally drives me crazy and one day I will be in a mental hospital and the basis of my insanity will be on people asking me for snacks.

Last week Isabella and I were practicing words ending with -nt, like, hunt. She said, "Like, hunt ducks on Duck Dynasty?" Just like it. Every time we watch that show, we think of my grandpa, who did not hunt ducks, he hunted deer, turkey, and squirrels, but who would have gotten such a kick out of watching Duck Dynasty. Especially the episode where the wives went deer hunting with their husbands.

Isabella plays outside even when it's raining. I stay inside, and take pictures from the window.

Isaac, dancing

I had to tackle her for this picture...

Lego engineer, hard at work...

Isabella just showed a story to me that she wrote:

The Bear That ate The dog
by Isabella

The Bear wet for a woc. Then The Bear soy a dog. The Bear ate the dog. The end.

I think Isabella's story is written better than my post. Probably because she didn't have people pooping, doing math, and asking for a snack, and asking for help putting on boots and coat to play outside, while she wrote it. 

Life

Some notable happenings from the past few days:

1. Isabella announced that she will no longer be called, Isabella and is instead, you guess it, Bella. Since I have been itching to join the ranks of the association, Mean Moms of America, I flat out refuse to call her Bella. Later I went into her room and saw that she removed the I,S,A from the letters hanging on her wall.

2."Mommy, I really want a bunny. Can we pleeeease get a bunny?"
   "No, we are not getting a bunny."
   "But I like bunnies way more than dogs."
   "Stella, did you hear that? She says she likes bunnies more than dogs! You just made Stella cry."
   "But I really do! I don't like dogs anymore."
   "Look at Stella, she is so sad that you said that."
    And then commenced the crying because I would not get a bunny for her.

3. Monday I had a pimple on my forehead that happened to be the size of a third eyeball. While I like my children to believe that I can see everything they do, I would have passed on this pimple. Apparently it was incredibly distracting to Isabella while we were working on her math lesson:
    "What is that thing on your face?"
    "It's a pimple, don't worry about it."
    "Well, why did you get it?"
    "I don't know--I'm trying to pass as a teenager." I guess that was an acceptable answer until I was          explaining a math concept and noticed she wouldn't take her eyes off my pimple. 

4. Tuesday the kids had dentist appointments. I've been dreading Isaac's appointment since the screams that come from him during a cleaning can probably be heard in the next building. I was all geared up. Emotionally prepared for torture time, and physically prepared since I planned to remove his shoes after the extreme kicking of the last appointment. Isaac woke up crabby and I was disappointed since I'd really hoped for a good mood. I held him most of the morning until he fell asleep for an unusually early nap. I didn't think much of it since he goes to bed late, doesn't sleep well, and then wakes up early, a 9:30 a.m. nap seemed reasonable.

We got to the dentist and I could tell something was off with Isaac. I thought he would perk up when he saw the video game room and he tried to walk into the room, fell down, stood up, fell down, was screaming...they wanted me to fill out paperwork. Isaac was still screaming, and now shaking uncontrollably. I tried giving him the iPad since that usually cures a bad mood. He couldn't even hold it. Now Isabella was asking for the iPad. I snapped at her and told her to into the playroom--something was wrong with Isaac. I thought maybe it was a blood sugar thing, so I ran out to the car to get formula and a syringe. The receptionist gave me a cup...Isaac was still screaming, and shaking. They came to take Isabella back for her appointment and I couldn't decide if we should stay or go, I just told them that I needed a fork to mix that stupid formula. So there we were, screaming child, me mixing formula, Isabella upset that she may miss her long anticipated dentist appointment, then I was syringing up formula, and giving Isaac a quick two ounces. By that point I surely looked crazy. I mean, who doesn't when they are holding a lethal syringe (60cc).

I told Isabella that she could go back for her cleaning and maybe Isaac would feel better after having some formula. Meanwhile, Isaac kept pointing to the game room, but he wouldn't stand up, even with my help. I pulled a chair over and sat him in front of screen. He couldn't hold the controller, and then he started dozing off. Isaac, dozing off in front of a Lego video game definitely means something is wrong.

Well, fast forward a little bit, the dentist came out to the waiting room to have a look at Isaac. At this point, Isaac had stopped crying and was basically slouched over and his eyes kept rolling back and he kept drifting to sleep. We decided he should go to the ER, so I dropped Isabella off with my mom, and by the time we got to the ER he had a fever of 103.3, which I know isn't crazy high for kids, but he didn't have a fever until we left the dentist's office, and his symptoms were more concerning than anything else.

He had some Motrin and then started to perk up a bit. They couldn't find anything that was wrong with him, he didn't have a cough, his nose wasn't runny, his g-tube looked okay, ears were good, flu test was negative...and by that point he was saying, "bee bee" (beep beep) so that I'd move out of the way so that he could watch TV. We were discharged, and after a nap and a tube feeding, he was back to normal and wrestling with Isabella. He has not had a hint of a fever since 2:00 p.m. on Tuesday. It was all incredibly weird, and scary at the beginning since he has never acted like that or had a fever. We are thankful he is okay. It is so challenging with him since he is unable to tell us what is wrong. We've tried teaching feelings and attempt to help him pinpoint an area of discomfort, but it's virtually impossible since he does not have the verbal ability to tell us if he isn't feeling well. We've had glimpses of progress in this area, for example, when he was able to touch his g-tube and say, "ow", so we'll keep working on it.

5. I have heard more about silly putty since Sunday, than I would ever care to hear.

6. Isabella very nonchalantly told me that when I die she will not forget about me and will think about me all the time.

7. At dinner, Walter was mentioning that his annual review is this week, and we basically explained to Isabella that it is a grading system for people who work...ideally you want an A+. "Well, what if you get an F." "That probably means you're fired." "And then you have to go work at a pizza place." Anything is possible.

8. My so called facebook "friends" ruined the finale of Downton Abbey for me. Note to self: do not log on to social media outlets before having a chance to watch season finales.

 Getting ready to show Pirate Legos to Opa

The result of watching many home improvement shows with Daddy: Measuring vents...

Carrot and orange golf

Isaac was sure this remote would control his Playmobile race car

Checking for the 'on' switch

 Walter's Aunt teaches Suzuki violin, but lives too far away for us to take lessons with her. This was an impromptu Sunday lesson...

--Sierra

me go mo wi da

Isaac: (in a high pitched voice) Hoooo Hoooo Hoooo

Isabella: Isaac, please stop making the same sound over and over again! 

Isaac: Hooo Hooo Hooo

Isabella: Isaac! Seriously, that sound is annoying!

Me: Isabella, it's okay, just try to ignore him. Isaac can you make a different sound? Can you whisper?

Isaac: Hooo Hooo Hooo (He's an owl, that never stops hooting)

Isabella: Isaac! You're giving me a HEADACHE!

and then there's been a lot of this: 

Isaac: No, no, no, noooo, ow, ow, ow!

Me: Isabella, I've already told you not to talk to, look at, or touch Isaac. 

Yep. 

Let the sibling games begin. Isaac is already extra sensitive to people looking at him when he doesn't want them to. I mean, I get it, I tend to be on the anti-social side at times, but is it really necessary to say, "ow" when people look at you? And the repetitive noises, that happens all the time. If he isn't hooting, he's growling, and if he isn't growling, he's making some other high pitched noise. Our meals are very entertaining, and quite loud. We try to encourage a variety of noises so that we don't have to hear the same one, but Isaac is a very stubborn person, and if he wants to growl for ten minutes straight, he's going to growl. How he doesn't end up with sore throat, I have no idea. 

Other than growling and hooting, Isaac is making very good progress with making word approximations. You would have no idea what he was saying, but I've gotten pretty good at it. For example: 

Isaac: me go mo wi da!

Me: You want to play mario, on the wii, with da?

Isaac: Ya!

Isaac: buh woooey go!

Me: Buzz and Woody and are in a car?

Isaac: Ya! 

Valentine Sweat Shop

Isabella is making some wonderful progress with reading and math. I am constantly amazed that her brain can absorb so much new information and then spit it back out. I often wonder if I'm pushing her too hard, or teaching her too many new things at once, but she is getting it all, and it's really fun to be a part of this learning process.

Isaac helping unpack his medical supplies. 

Have a wonderful weekend!

Sierra

Mostly pictures

"This one boy kept telling me that boys are stronger than girls."
"That's crazy. Everybody knows that girls are stronger than boys."
"I tried to tell him, but he wouldn't stop saying that."
"Just tell him that girls give birth to babies, and it hurts a lot to birth a baby, so girls are stronger."
"Well, how am I supposed to remember all of that?"

*******************************************************************************

Mainly just pictures today. Maybe a real post next time. Also, I'm not sure why blogger can't manage to upload my pictures in order. It's a major pain in the butt to switch them around. So, I'll help you out.

Big milestones were met this weekend: Isaac walked almost the entire time we were at the zoo, and he is now wearing his ankle/foot orthotics full-time.

Isabella can spend hours playing outside despite the cold. Stella is always near, and on guard.

We like to tell Isaac that he one of very few, nearly three year old boys, that can still sit on the kitchen counter.

Oh, look at that, we're back at the zoo...

 
He loved trying to chase his shadow.

Who is this child walking on mulch and leaves?

And now we're home...doing laundry...

"The truth is, I broke the bracelet so that I could use the beads to feed the duck in my play." 
"I had no idea you had a duck"
"It's not a real duck. Obviously, ducks don't eat beads."