A bit of encouragement

I feel a stirring to do things differently: to be better at wifing, and mothering, and homekeeping, so I'm not going to sit at the computer screen too long right now.

It's made me realize that it's easy to feel discouraged about the job you're doing. Self-talk can quickly become condemning. It can seem like you'll never measure up to whatever standard you hold for yourself.

When you feel like you haven't done much that is worthwhile today, just remember that you can always get up right now and make it right. Go load the dishwasher really quickly. Or sit on the floor with your kiddos and make a picture together. Hang up all the winter coats that have been piling up somewhere. Or call someone up and tell them why you appreciate them. And smile. I'm always surprised at how quickly my mood changes when I choose to smile.

Don't think about all the missed opportunities of yesterday, just focus on the ones available to you today!

♦

The Duggars and the Tiger?

Back in 2002, Jim Bob Duggar was a candidate for the U.S. Senate here in Arkansas. It was my first exposure to him and his rather large family. At that time, they had a mere 13 children with another on the way (and I had exactly zero, fyi). I remember thinking then that they were certifiably nuts and shared this opinion whenever the topic of their family came up.


But something made me revisit that snap judgment I'd made all those years ago. I actually met the Duggars in person a while back. (By the way, they're lovely. Through and through. Seriously.) And it got me thinking. It seems a simplistic concept, but I saw them as real people for the first time, not just fodder for discussion on Facebook. People with skin, and feelings, and hurts, and joys, and tough choices to make. Just like me.


Immediately, I felt sheepish and contrite, and I've never forgotten the lesson I learned that day.

Which brings me to the current Tiger Woods saga. While the media and the world at large seems to love a good scandal, I can't help but think of the person(s) at the middle of it. To me, it's not that some huge celebrity had a fall from grace which gives us the right to opine and poke fun ad nauseum, it's that a man was unfaithful and his marriage and children have suffered as a consequence.

Many would say that he "brought this on himself" and that "he's getting what he deserves." It's a knee-jerk reaction, and it's tempting. I get that, and I've said it about others in the past. But when I think about having to say that to Tiger's face--when I see him as a person and not a celebrity, I pause and realize that he is a man in need of the saving message of Grace. Again, just like me. 

So when we say, with pun intended, "he's made his bed, now let him lie in it," it is in great contrast to what Jesus said about a woman in a similar situation to Tiger's, whose own private failings were made very public business at the temple courts. To her accusers, Jesus said, "If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her."

This morning, in between requests to fly like Buzz and refill a cup of chocolate milk here and there, I tried to watch Tiger's televised apology. I did not hear everything of course, but what I did hear sounded like a good start. It is my hope that he is sincere and follows through on his promises to right the wrongs he's done. A real, live family hangs in the balance.

♦

Pictures and updates, now that's different

The more I look at this picture, the more I love it.

Jackson's hair has gotten unruly in the last couple of months. This is the before picture. I took the clippers to his head right after I took this; it looks much better now, but I forgot to take an after shot. I'll try to get that tomorrow.

Coop has not made it into any recent pictures. He's been too busy flying Buzz Lightyear through the air and running outside eating "ice"--read: dirty snow. Pretty much anything he does, he's going 90 miles an hour to do it. So every shot, lately, has been an action shot. Like this one from last month.

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Now for a few updates:

I got the duplex rented this weekend! I showed it six times on Saturday alone, and more than 10-15 times in the last two months, so it's been hard work. It has consumed much of my thoughts too; to have this come to a desirable conclusion, I'm certainly breathing much easier about everything. The renters move in this weekend, which means all of February is not lost and we'll even be making a little rent this month.

Ella is in the process for being evaluated for placement in a full-time early intervention daycare that integrates therapy right into her daily schedule. We've been working on this since December, and I think we are in the final stages of the approval process. We spent the better part of four hours one morning last week getting all the evaluations knocked out. 

She already qualifies for PT (since she has documented delays and is already receiving therapy) and has to show deficits in at least one more area in order to be approved. The speech therapist was pretty sure that Ella would qualify for speech, mostly because of her feeding issues--which I think are slowly resolving without any formal intervention--but really didn't think her actual language abilities were truly delayed (which surprised me 'cause she sure is quiet and seems to have no language comprehension at all). 

The occupational therapist who saw Ellie said that she was probably just on the line and may not actually qualify for OT. I had told the developmental pediatrician earlier in the morning that I didn't think E could transfer a toy from one hand to the other--which is a benchmark skill for her age and would definitely qualify her, but as I and the OT watched her she managed to do just that. I've since realized that she had been doing it for a while now, and I just hadn't made note of it.

Last year, the company that makes ACTH (the drug that got rid of Ellie's spasms) started an Infantile Spasms Awareness week. I blogged about it here. Feeling rather strongly about helping to get the word out on the importance of early symptom recognition and treatment for IS, I googled around a bit to find the name of the man who was heading up the Week and emailed him. His name is Mark, and he runs a PR company, by the way. He emailed back within a few days and said he'd love to include our family in future events. Much time passed before I heard from him again, to the point that I'd kind of forgotten about it all. 

Then Mark called me up last month and asked me to tell him more about our experience with IS. After he listened to me for a while, he mentioned a few opportunities to share our story with others, all of which sounded pretty exciting. With a few more phone calls and emails back and forth and getting the details all lined out, the first opportunity is coming together quite nicely. 

Next month, a camera crew is coming to our house for a few hours to interview us and take some pictures of Ella to be included in future events about IS awareness. Not only do I hope to stress the importance of early access to treatment, I also want to share a story that, though still unfolding, has had a good outcome so far. Much of what you find when you research IS on the internet is grim and scary, but I don't think it is very balanced. I always want to leave room for hope.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have some house cleaning to do.

♦

Jackson really has my number lately

I mean the boy is not even five years old and already has me fairly well figured out.

Apparently, he's noticed that I like a little TV. Take this morning for example. I am sitting in the recliner in the living room, feeding Ella and enjoying the peace and quiet. Jackson comes in, notices the TV is off, and questions, "Why are you sitting there doing nothing?" I go into one of my pre-packaged mom-versations that can be called up at a moment's notice about how we don't have to have the TV on every waking moment of our lives and how it's good to unplug every now and then. He briefly studies me as though I've sprouted a second head, and then shrugs it off and goes on with his day.

A little later, we are preparing to leave for a dentist appointment. The clinic we use really couldn't be farther away from us and still be considered "in the next town." In addition to that, I am anticipating that the still slick roads this morning will add an unknown amount of time to the trip. So I am trying to hurry my bigger kids into the van, while quickly buckling my daughter into her carseat in the hopes that we can get there on time. Jackson asks, "Why are we in a hurry to everything?" Doh! I decide honesty is the best policy and therefore respond thusly, "Because Mommy has a problem with time management, son." "Oh."

♦

Pictures I've been meaning to post

These are our gingerbread houses from Christmas. The one on the left is Jackson's, the one on the right is the one the boys "helped" me with. I probably should have either: a) decided to let them have at it and let it be what it would be or b) put it together while they were sleeping. As it was, having them there and trying to keep the gingerbread from getting completely destroyed was a little much for me. But I thought Jackson would get upset if he didn't get to help, and I also don't think he would have been happy if it didn't turn out like a house, and I don't know how to make gingerbread walls weight-bearing again once they get broken.

I wanted to make sure and get the kids out in this snow right after New Year's because we'd already missed the Christmas snow due to traveling for my Grandma's funeral. Little did I know just how many other opportunities we'd have since then. *typed as it snows even now*

This little boy loves his sister. Can't get enough of her. Has a special face and voice (and octave) just for her. Wants to go get her when she wakes up. Brings her toys when she cries. Kisses her on the head and tells me about it. I think the feeling's mutual too. She's always trying to touch him. Just look at that adoration on her face.

There's an ongoing  game of chase in our house. The boys pretend that I am a monster who will tickle them if I catch them. They ask me to "tickle me, momma," and all I have to say "Raaaaawwwwrrrr" and start running after them and the game is on! Sometimes I pick Ellie up to "get" the boys. She loves this game. I'm carrying her as I snap this pic, in fact. I'm nothing if not multi-talented. :)

Even though I'm not always excited about playing, I always change my mind and am glad I joined in when I see these faces. Monster-tickle-chase won't last forever, you know?

♦

Fuddy to the Duddy

Sometimes, I pause to consider what I have become.

Like when I use a completely scientific and therefore totally believable Facebook app that rates the top words in my status updates from last year as "sleep" and "nap." Awesomeness.

Or when I realize that the Best New Artist of the Year category at the Grammys may as well be called "A list of people/groups you've never heard of." Though to be fair to my thirty-something-year-old self, I have never exactly been up on what the kids are listening to these days.

(Can't you just hear me shaking my fist out my front door, and shouting, "You pesky kids, get off my lawn!" It's not that much of a stretch, is it.)

It's alright; I'm fairly comfortable with who I am. It's just that I used to be cooler somehow, and I mourn the loss of that coolness just a little bit.

For example, I used to have opinions about things other than which diaper brand prevent leaks best. And I certainly read a fair amount more than Olivia Forms a Band or Dora Goes to the Beach. Occasionally, I even had the latest in fashion, when I bothered to pay attention that is. (I was ahead of the curve in the Doc Martens craze, but I hung on to it for dear life and only closeted my last pair for good a few years ago).

Hm. I don't actually sound that cool, even in trying to make the case for myself.

I definitely used to be able to talk about things other than children, and birth stories, and sleep habits, and discipline. Once upon a time, I saw all the latest movies. Often in the theater even. None of which were even remotely animated. I could speak knowledgeably about plot devices, and the Hollywood It couple, and quote the most quotable lines. TV was another passion. It took dedication, but I stayed up on all my favorite shows without the help of a DVR. I knew the very moment that Rachel finally kissed Ross, and I painstakingly watched SNL every week monitoring it for the next awesome character or sketch. I loved anything with Dana Carvey, Mike Myers, or Chris Farley in it.

Now I just feel old. Most of pop culture is clearly no longer playing to my demographic. I can't stand a single show on VH1, save my one guilty pleasure in Celebrity Rehab. MTV's not much better. Jersey Shore might as well be The Real World part 43 to me a.k.a Yet Another Show with Drunken, Pugilistic Idiots. I've never watched The Bachelor other than pieces here and there, ditto for Dancing with the Stars, and even my Survivor cred leaves much to be desired.

I'm actually okay with being a little out of touch when it comes to inconsequential and silly stuff like that. But one thing I'd like to do better is to be more well-rounded and approachable when it comes to what I can talk about. I am more than a mom, and I need to strive to talk about things other than my kids. Sure, I love them to pieces and think they are some of the smartest, funniest creatures to ever walk the Earth, but that doesn't mean I should lose all sense of the rest of the world around me in my fervor to be their mother.

♦

Another day, another doctor's appointment

Ella had a follow-up appointment with her neurologist, Dr. B, today. Most of the time was spent answering questions about Ella's progress and whether she's had any abnormal movements since the last visit (two months ago). 

Around the time of that appointment back in November, you might remember that Ella had started to have some odd facial movements, and I thought I'd seen her do some involuntary head drops as well. Because of that, Dr. B increased Ella's Keppra dose, and gave us the charge to video anything abnormal, so that she could look at it. During the first part of December, we continued seeing some stuff, but it was hard to try to capture it on film. There was about a minute of repetitive, stereotypical mouth movements in mid-December that I videoed and forwarded on to Dr. B. Not knowing for sure what she was looking at, she referred us for an EEG (which as you probably know we've since had a short and a long one but were unable to catch any odd movements during those recordings). 

Since that time, anything subsequent to that has been even more subtle and/or brief, so there really hasn't been much there. Chris sees things occasionally, but it isn't sustained or problematic. I've been saying that if Ella is doing anything seizure-wise, it does not seem to be interfering with her development, and Dr. B agreed with me on that today.

Dr. B. didn't have the report from the most recent 24-hour EEG last week, but her nurse began working on that today, so hopefully I can see it for myself soon. She said that she'd only seen a few spikes on the right during the 4-hour EEG in December, consistent with what the resident read to me at the hospital, which was "a marked improvement over the EEG from earlier in the year (the one in June that sent us to Children's in the first place)."

She referred us to the local genetic clinic today. Again. She had tried to do that previously (I didn't know that or I would have been asking about it), but nothing came of that, so it had to be redone. Fortunately before we left today, we even got an appointment scheduled with them, which is progress, but it that isn't until May. I probably will call periodically to see if we can be worked in to a cancellation slot or something.

Finally, there have been plans in the works for a while now regarding Dr. B moving away. Originally if memory serves me, she was going to leave at the end of October last year, which was later bumped back to the end of this month. Today, I asked for an update on this from the appointment scheduler, and she said that she'd just found out this morning that our doctor will be here through the end of April. I'm not sure what is calling her away, but selfishly I'd love to keep her as long as she's able to be here. She knows Ella's history and is a very capable physician. From what I understand, the current plan to replace her consists of a rotation of doctors, which means we'll have to start from scratch with each appointment. Perhaps Dr. B is hanging around until they can come up with a more permanent replacement. . . That would suit me just fine.

♦