School: Froggy Style

Our Thursday, in pictures. 

This is how I found Isabella when I went to check on her before I went to bed. Don't worry, after taking the picture I unwrapped the blanket from her neck so she wouldn't die. I'm a good mom like that. I probably have more than eight quilts that my grandma has made for me, this log cabin quilt remains my favorite and most loved. The binding is in tatters, but it still tops Isabella's bed. 

Frog sleigh. Totally unsafe. They made it to the living-room before Isaac's head almost rammed into the wall. 

Tonight, I'm looking forward to date with my husband. We may actually have a chance to speak in complete sentences.

Have a wonderful weekend,

Sierra

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

The Violin Sings...

My sister and I play this game where we say a quote from a movie, television show, book, and have the other one try to guess which movie the quote is from--Walter can't stand this game--if you know which movie the title of my post is quoted from you get Sierra and Jesse points (which means absolutely nothing). 

I used to play the violin, and actually, got pretty good at it once I decided that I wanted to be good at it. I guess that is the key to success--actually wanting it. I always thought I would have Isabella start violin lessons when she was three, and then decided that I didn't want to be one of those parents. I'm still not sure if I want to be the parent who forces daily practice time, corrects an incorrect bow hold, tweaks the wrist, attends weekly private lessons and twice monthly group lessons--I don't know. Either way, I feel like it's time to find out.

When I was in high school, I realized that the younger you begin purposefully developing your skill, the greater advantage you have. This became even more apparent when I auditioned for (and made it in as a second violinist) the Cleveland Contemporary Youth Orchestra. Those first violinists and concertmasters, they started lessons when they were three years old, and I was jealous. On the other hand, it gave me motivation to work harder, and to have two of the best private teachers throughout my violin education.

As a parent, I feel like it's hard to find a balance. Isabella is good at ballet, she seems to enjoy it quite a bit, and her teacher has said several times that she could see her eventually making it into the company. I take it all with a grain of salt. I want her to be successful, but I also want her to enjoy it. I suppose the time to stop, is the time she is no longer enjoying it. On the flip side, you see your child becoming successful, do you push them onward? You never know, there could be a college scholarship in their future, and we all know how expensive college is.

Saturday morning I took Isabella to observe a group Suzuki Violin lesson. We were both really looking forward to it, and it's a big deal for us to be anywhere by 8:00 a.m., so that goes to show how enthusiastic we were. It's a big commitment to go the Suzuki route, but it's also exciting, and I can already see that she would quickly surpass what I was able to achieve with the violin. Her learning and experience would be more rounded, and that makes me happy because I realize the opportunities she could have in the future...if she decided she wanted those opportunities. It seems like a toss of the coin...spend a fortune, give up monumental amounts of your time, and maybe, just maybe, your child will be the one who enjoys it, thrives, comes to love the feeling of the bow across the string, marvels at making a beautiful vibrato  and appreciates the components of performing a piece of music.

I'm looking forward to walking this path with her and discovering if it is something she will enjoy. If she really loves it, who knows, I may even dust off that violin under my bed and accompany her.

I do apologize for the lack of pictures on my posts lately. I'm in a slump--writing and photography included. Here's to hoping that the coming of spring reinvigorates me! 

Sleepy Smiles

I guess Isaac was sufficiently tortured, I mean, challenged, at therapy today. A few hours later he took a three hour nap. I ended up holding him throughout the greater portion of the nap, and got to enjoy listening to him giggle in his sleep at one point.

Do you remember how your baby looked right after they'd finished a feeding? Completely drunk, and high on that wonderful breast milk. We used to laugh at Isabella after she finished nursing. Chubby cheeks flushed, body completely floppy, milk dribbling out of the corner of her mouth, dozing in perfect contentment, and then, to top it off, the corner of her mouth would twitch, and she'd smile. A perfect moment. I love sleepy smiles. Sometimes I watch Isabella while she sleeps, hoping that I might catch that little smile again.

I didn't get that experience with Isaac. He was always mad. Before a feeding, after a feeding, during a feeding, it didn't matter, and it was so frustrating. He rarely had that drunken, just breastfed, look of contentment. And he never smiled in his sleep. Probably because he hardly ever slept--he screamed instead. It is by God's grace alone that I survived.

It made me incredibly happy to hear Isaac giggle in his sleep today. I suppose it represents how far we've come and the amazing amount of progress we've made.

I promise he isn't signing 'Loser'. He's been working on signing 'see', and this is actually a very close approximation.

She made a necklace out of shrinky-dinks. Those things are so cool! 

We are now at a stage where I can ask Isabella to read to Isaac so that I can finish getting ready or whatever (productive) thing it is I'm doing. She's not actually reading the words (even though I tell her every day that she could read most of the "real" words). She has every book in our house memorized.

Until next time,

Sierra

Lost and found

This morning Walter lost a small piece that belonged to something he was working on. We were searching the floor for it, we went through the clumps of dog hair I'd just vacuumed up, and he was even going through the trash (which was where he eventually found it--I think after his second or third trash dig). The whole time I was searching, I couldn't stop thinking about my grandpa. He could find anything.

When I'd pack up and get ready to leave my grandparent's house, and notice that I couldn't find a sock, for example, my grandpa would start hunting. I'd say, "It's really okay, grandpa, I have other socks. If you come across it, just let me know." He'd just shake his head slowly, refusing to give up the hunt, and go through a check-list of places that I should have already checked.

The last time we left my grandparent's house, Walter said, "I hope we didn't forget anything." Without thinking, I caught myself saying, "Well, if we did, I'm sure grandpa will find it."

My grandparent's house is a few miles from The Ohio State University campus. This means that their street and alleys get a fair amount of foot-traffic. Every morning, my grandpa took his dog for a walk, and he'd always come back with a treasure. Pennies and other coins, wallets (don't worry, they always returned them), books, jewelry, watches, interesting furniture people had thrown away, you name it, he probably found it.

Now, any time I've misplaced something, I picture my grandpa, head down, one hand in his back pocket, slowly looking, sure that he will find it. He always did find that missing object, and then I'd get a call from grandma, telling me exactly where it was found.  

Carrots as rockets

I'd shared my feeding therapy frustrations many times with Isaac's therapists, and then finally, we dropped out of the second feeding therapy approach we'd tried...and failed. Well, maybe not exactly failed. For awhile we would have been given a D...maybe a C-. Many months ago, Isaac's Occupational Therapist told me that she was going to attend a conference on an approach to feeding therapy that she thought would be a good fit for Isaac. I was all for it, and looked forward to hearing what she thought after she attended the conference.

Heather (his OT) returned from the conference full of excitement. She planned to start as soon as possible, but she warned me that we would have to do some weird stuff. Uh, okay, I guess I'm up for anything, I just want the kid to eat one day...or at the very least, touch food. She told me that once we reached a certain point of success during the program, we would have to put food in our mouth, chew it up, and spit it out, so that he could visualize what chewing does, or that food is safe to eat, or something like that. And then she told me that you begin with green and orange foods, which meant, broccoli. Oh man, Heather, I really don't like broccoli. She said we could use asparagus instead. For whatever reason, we've been using green apples, so I'm cool with that.

You have to know something about me. I don't like messy eating. Can't stand it. It disgusts me. I'm okay with Isaac being messy. He can smear food, throw food, smash food, I really don't care, whatever gets him to touch it and eventually, eat it. But as for me, I'm the person who cuts up my slice of pizza into small bites so that I don't risk something getting on my face. I would never eat a cone of ice-cream, bowl and spoon for me. Messy appetizers that are not offered without a plate and fork--forget it. The only people I am truly comfortable eating in front of, is my family. Obviously, Isaac isn't the only one who has problems. I'm just going to admit here, that I have been in therapy for my own problems, including but not limited to my issue with eating in front of people. Either way, therapy is awesome, and I firmly believe everyone (probably some people more than others) should have a good therapist, so go out and support the mental health professionals!

Well, obviously the idea of spitting out food onto my hand, had me concerned. But I knew it would just be Heather, Shelly (Isaac's speech therapist), Isaac and me, sitting at the table, so I was sure I could be brave enough. We've had four feeding therapy sessions so far, and Heather is super outgoing, and full of energy, and silly...basically, everything I'm not, so if she's cool with looking ridiculous, I try to spend those forty-five minutes being okay with looking ridiculous. Isaac was being very brave this week. During most of the session he stares at Heather like she is completely insane, but this week, he actually touched the carrot and the cheese to his face--huge step for him. How did we get him to do this? Obviously, we pretended the carrot was a train and chugged up our arm, which was the mountain, to the top of our head, the peak of the mountain, and then back down the other side. Then, Isaac shocked us by putting the carrot to his face, so obviously the carrot had to be a rocket that shot out of our mouth, so that just maybe, Isaac would be cool with putting something, anything, aside that infant, hospital issued pacifier, in his mouth. I shot a carrot out of my mouth like it was rocket. Isaac thought it was hilarious, and we all laughed. And I was brave, just for him, because I want my kid to eat.