One of those days

You ever had "one of those days?"
It seems that in 2010 I've had more of "those days" than not, which makes me think that perhaps the expression is no longer valid for me.

Not that I'm complaining, because it is life. I am learning and experiencing every day, whether I want to or not. One of my dearest friends that I don't get to see often enough (like them all) recently mentioned the "interesting" life I have.

Having a series of "those days" apparently leads to "interesting."

My day today was in the "those days" category; although it's not really out of the ordinary for life as I've come to know it.

My 7 month old baby has begun to cut a tooth. His misery has further cut into the very little sleep I had been getting, so when the alarm rang at 6 a.m. to get out of bed I was not a happy camper (even though I had just by lying there since 5:30 when I last nursed baby).

It was a fast and furious morning, as it always is, to get everyone dressed, medicated, fed, teeth and hair done, winter gear on, bags packed, etc. etc. etc.

I dropped of my eldest at Kindergarten. I had forgotten my purse, so the middle child and I went back for it. I then meandered a strange way to his preschool as my mind took me inadvertently to his daycare first (even though four days of five I take him to the preschool location).

At preschool dropoff, I ran into my Dad's hair-twin - he reminds me so much of my Dad - and I hadn't seen this guy in weeks. "White Christmas" was playing on the radio and I proceeded to cry all the way to work.

I get to work 2 minutes late. I scurry as quickly as I can on projects and leave work one-and-a-half hours later to get my eldest to her appointments. We get into her audiology appointment 15 minutes late due to their patient load. We got into her ENT appointment two hours late. And although she was missing school, missing lunch, bored out of her mind in this non-kid-friendly waiting room, I am quite proud of her behavior. If we didn't love this doctor so much, and if she wasn't so highly recommend and even touted as the best in the region, and if there was any chance in hell I would've been able to get another appointment with her before June, I would've left.

She's been off antibiotics for a couple weeks and she has yet another ear infection festering and something brewing in her sinuses too. After lengthy discussion over my eldest's year (and previous history) it is decided the best route is ear tube surgery, a possible adenoid removal, and a possible nasal lavage.We have been through all this with our middle child a couple of times, but with his adenoid removal, he was overdosed on a pain med and coded. There is nothing like holding your lifeless purple/blue child while chaos moves about you. Although I know it's the right step, and our daughter's Kindergarten teacher is so glad we're finally doing something, I get a knot in my tummy each time I think about it.

She and I both missed lunch, and she so very much wanted Subway, so we quickly did that together.

I drop her off at school, get back to work and fly through as much as I can for one hour. It is then time to pick up my daughter as school is out. She is wearing holy, worn out jeans that are about 4 sizes too big. She had her first "accident" at school because she chose not to listen to me when I said "first thing you do when you get to your room is go to the bathroom." Great, that means extra laundry tonight because these pants aren't ours, and her snowpants got it too because she was out at recess. Oh, and everyone's laundry was done, except for mine which I needed to do so I have pants for work tomorrow. Laundry, the joys.

We come home and I pump as I am still nursing baby and I've neglected this chore since 6 a.m. We then head out to daycare to get my middle child for his speech appointment. He was about to go play in the snow with his class, so I practically dragged him out - much to his disgust. However, this worked out well as I was able to get speech in for him and pick up my daughter's newest prescription at one stop. I love efficiency.

Then it's home to a pot roast that's been slow cooking all day. It was frozen at 7:30 a.m. and I can't remember what I put in it. To this day, I don't think I've ever done a roast the same way twice - pretty much try anything I can find. So far, so good. Perhaps you just can't screw up a roast.

Pot roast, spaghetti and thin cut green beans. A nontraditional combination, but it's all stuff I know I can get everybody to eat. By this point, my middle child looks and sounds like he's not feeling well (and how could he be with everyone sick everywhere we go?), so an executive decision to keep him home from Kindermusik is made. With that, it's dishes and kitchen clean up, three baths, discussion on baby's mystery rash, snacks, a breathing treatment, nursing...and all three are so tired that we didn't even squeeze in a bedtime story. Good thing my daughter and I had down time during the speech appointment to fit in two books, not to mention the only two they had as we waited forever at her appointments today.

I entered a few more orders to the party I am closing tomorrow. I did quick free "Santa" video links for both of my big kids, which I almost wish I could go wake them up to see! And I have now been telling myself to go get my work computer and file out of the van and get moving. I have to turn a huge project in tomorrow so there is no way around it...yet I sit and type this. It's not an incredibly interesting post. Just simply a snapshot of "one of these days" in an incredibly busy, interesting, quite average...and yet blessed existence.

Most every day is like this. Jam packed full of stuff, and yet I can never get everything done that needs doing.
And usually there's always a few extra hoops added in just for good measure.
But I think that's the course I'm meant to be on.
And I get my some pretty cool highlights that are my favorite parts of each day...hugs, kisses, laughter and amazement.
I can always find those gifts in even the worst of  "one of those days."

The Word

I'm tired of the "R-word." It comes up far too often and I get so tired of trying to make judgement calls on eductating the current ignorant person or not. I found this portion of a blog I wrote in February:

The "r" word is such an annoying thing. I was one of the most ignorant people ever as I didn't get it either. It was never brought to my attention that the way we used it was wrong - and I obviously never took a moment to even think about it on my own. I feel so bad for the years that I used it.


 "It just means 'slow' - I can call people/things 'slow.'"


It is so abundantly clear to me now. I really don't understand how I didn't get it before. To call someone or something "retarded," you are clearly trying to put that person or thing down. You are making a derrogatory statement against them and the best insult you could come up with is "retarded." That is saying the person or thing you are referring to should feel bad that you've hurled this "insult" against them. That is saying that the people who are intellectually challenged and actually have this clinical term attached to them are less than you, are a part of our society that is lower than those who don't have intellectual challenges. How in the world is that fair? People with this disabiliity have done nothing to you, did not ask to have this disability and don't deserve to be treated like second-class citizens.


I get tired of hearing that we're "sensitive" - really? It's no different than the "n" word for African Americans, or calling things that you think are stupid "gay" - or any other word that shows complete disrespect for other human beings. Whether we understand others, or agree with how they live their lives, doesn't give us the right to make fun of or disrespect them. We're all here to help each other and make our short experiences on this earth as good as possible. I hate that human nature is to be ignorant and negative.

There is a world of difference between a person who makes unintelligent choices and a person who has a disability.
I know that when that word comes out, and I am in the group, it is up to me to step up and say something, and most times I do. But I also wish that just once someone else that is not me or my husband would put themselves in the uncomfortable spot of helping to educate on this topic for the sake of a better future for Grady and other people with intellectual disabilites. Maybe it happens within our circle when we aren't around. That definitely could be and I sure hope so, but I would be so very grateful if someone in our group would start the dialouge first for a change of pace. There's just something so energizing about knowing that someone has your back.

It is our job to be the best advocates for our son that we can be. Educating the educatable (I've learned that it is an unfortunate truth that there are some people that are a complete waste of time in this arena) is part of that job. It sometimes gets so mentally and emotionally exhausting.

Anyway, if you happen to be reading this blog, do everyone a favor. Do a self check before words fly out of your mouth. Do they mean what you think they do? What is your purpose in the words you choose? Are you being hurtful to anyone by choosing to use them? Don't teach your children the missteps you've used for so long.

The world will be a better place when we stop using other people's disabilities as "funny fodder" to put other people down.

Right Answer Please

My daughter returned from a long, fun weekend at Grandma's. One of the first things she said to me is, "My throat hurts." Great, because she's still on antibiotics (third set) for ear and sinus infections that have been around since at least September. She's coughing a lot more and harder too.

And "great" because her baby brother has a sore throat. In fact, they're growing a culture to check for strep as I type. I took him in for pink eye (as I wasn't sure if they do antibiotic drops in someone under one, everything I read gave contradictory answers). I learned that he has an ear infection and a very red throat. I guess it doesn't surprise me looking back as he has been fighting a cold on and off since his baptism in September, and his sleep and eating has been weird the last few days.

Then there's my middle child. He's snotty, has been ever since he got off his second round of super-antibiotics for a weird super-bug, but they assume this "cold" is something different since there isn't any fevers or other stuff. But his chest is a little raspy and he's coughing more, sounding junky more. They have given him the label of asthma because when Grady gets sick, it ultimately leads to wheezing (coughing) and rattling meaning congested or contstricted airways. It's not induced by exercise, basically having a cold or respiratory illness brings it about in most cases with him.

So that seems to be the common denominator. A cold.

My oldest has been tested for allergies, and we are going with the notion that our middle one has them, too. Those things can irritate them and get them started or basically make conditions favorable for cultivating a bug really well.

There are over 200 viruses that can cause a common cold. And they thrive in daycares and schools - where my kids are! Those colds cause bigger problems in my kids. Like ear infections. My daughter had a few as a baby, and has had a few a year since then - this year being the worst.

Ear infections are common in infants and children, in part because the eustachian tubes become easily clogged. If the eustachian tube becomes blocked, fluid can build up. When this happens, germs such as bacteria and viruses can multiply and cause an infection.


Now the question is - what to do about it. I've read that in 80% of cases an ear infection will clear up on its own in 7-10 days. Not wanting to overuse antibiotics, I've waited it out with my kids many times...but it's never seemed to work. One way or another, we always seem to end up on them.

I just never know if it's right. I mean, you're supposed to trust the medical professionals, but it sure seems like a lot of meds. It feels like a catch 22 all the time.

I don't want to destroy their own ability to fight off bugs, but if they can't shake them...
And if I could get rid of all the bugs we're all exposed too all day long, I would - but there is no such thing, no bubble to put them in.

So I continue to ponder the right answer.
It will mean a call to the pediatrician in the morning to second guess the course the doctor today (Sunday) put us on.

But, with 3 sets of tubes for the middle child and a set likely coming for my eldest...we may just be on an inevitable path here with our baby.

I just wish that I didn't feel like no answer is right.
Sometimes doing your best as a parent just doesn't feel like enough.

Un-Fond of Fishing for Floaters

There's very little I like less than cleaning poop out of a bathtub.
As I quickly scan the list of nasty things I get to do as "mom," nothing is topping it at this moment.
It had been a good 20-some years since I had to do such a chore.

Then this summer, while my middle child was on antibiotics, it happened.
I had gone 5 years as a parent and never had to fish floaters from the suds.
But once the dam was broken, it seems to not stop.

Tonight for at least the fourth or fifth time since that horrible day this summer, I once again got to scoop nasties.
I did a ton of babysitting when I was little, and very little grosses me out, unlike my husband who first had to change diapers by pulling his shirt over his nose and gagging.
But poop in the tub does it every time. My tummy actually got a bit queasy.

And that makes twice this week, as two days ago, thanks to not listening to me, my oldest lost a fight with the shopping cart and ripped her nail right out. I can do blood to a point, but her finger is kind of mangled and I just can't handle seeing my kid in pain like that. I was queasy trying to take care of the situation.

But back to the poop.
Yes, I did set him on the potty before the bath, and yes he did go #1 and told me he was all done.
And although there was quite a bit in the tub, there was still more that made the pot as I lifted him from the tub.

So do I declare that a potty-training win? I mean, I did get the potty in the potty chair before the bath...and I did get almost half of the bowel movement in the pot...

Ahh...but alas. I did have a ton of it in the tub to clean...and as I cleaned he did follow up that fiasco with streaking which involved going potty on the bathmat and the kitchen floor. Where does all the pee come from???

So no. Not a win.
Ugh.
I don't even care tonight for a win.
I just don't want to clean poop out of the tub again.
I'm shooting for that.

Potty Progress

I think it's funny how elated potty-training progress makes me.
I'm pretty sure as a young girl, even when cheering on my little brothers, I never thought to myself that I'd find deep joy in something likes this.

Potty training my little man with Down syndrome has been an intereseting trip so far. It's competely up to him, as he's demonstrated over and over.

As of this week, I've sung silly made-up songs with him to "trick" him into giving up the potty and tonight it even worked to get #2 out!

For example: "Tinkle, tinkle in the potty, poo-poo and pee-pee in the potty..." (sung to the tune of "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star")


It isn't the first time, but it is feeling (this week at least) that it's getting a little more consistent again.

And we even had one time this week when he woke up in the morning completely dry and went right away on the potty when we set him there.

I know that when he's done being stubborn about the whole thing, we'll have this hurdle checked off the list.
"In his own time..." I've heard and experienced that phrase so much since July 2007.

I wonder what life will be like when I'm not focused on "owie butt" prevention, diaper levels at home (school, daycare, etc.), who's gone which number a healthy amount of times per day, and timing, timing, timing.

Oh, well. I'll continue to delight, along with my little man, in the little things.
Even if they come in wet or stinky forms.

Life Lesson #72,568

You don't tug on Super Man's cape,
You don't spit into the wind,

and you don't take three kids age 5 and under for a successful family photo.
What you get at home is good enough. :)

*Much thanks to Jim Croce for the use of the above lyrics which have been in my head a lot lately.

Birthday Blues

Tomorrow I turn 33.
I'm neither here nor there about getting older. I'm pretty much where I expected to be at this age, so the actual birthday itself is fine, I guess.

But what the birthday used to be has changed. Who knew that little things would hurt so much when they're gone.

What am I missing?

I am missing my "birthday supper" I have with my parents each year. Each year since college, my parents would take me out for supper to celebrate my birthday. More often than not, it would be a steakhouse of some sort - and even though I'm not a large connoisseur of "meat," I never cared. Last year I was blown away when I picked Italian and my dad, for the first time ever that I had witnessed, ordered spaghetti and meatballs. He wouldn't touch pasta for the first 31 years of my life, and all of a sudden here he was with his unexpected order.

What else am I missing? The story. Inevitably around my birthday the stories of Houston, my birth, mom's roses and Dad staring at baby me in the nursery thinking to himself, "Holy sh--! I have to get it together. I have a baby to take care of." And how he used to set me in my chair in the middle of his electric racetrack and I'd watch him, and me in my walker in the apartment, and "Uncle" Joey and all these things I obvisiously have no recollection of.

And that's why it's so special. I don't remember any of it, but listening to him made it seem like I was right there. And seeing that it meant so much to him, that I meant so much to him, then and now, was something I looked forward to each year.

That's what I am missing this birthday.