I'm asking whoever happens to stumble across this blog to take this moment -not 20 minutes from now, not later today, not tomorrow- but this very moment to say a prayer for the Cox Family.
Recently their newest addition, Ryleigh, was born at 24 weeks gestation and is currently in the NICU. As the title of the post states, I don't know this family personally. I only know their story because they are a friend of a friend. But while I may not know them, my goodness do I know how they feel.
And while it would be really easy for me to reminisce and relive all of the emotions, the heartache, the pain, the joy, and ultimately the victory of my own 24 weeker's NICU stay, I really don't want this post to be about me or my family. All I want to do is cover this family in prayer, ask that this time be used to strengthen them, not shake them, and pray that God grants them the faith to know that their baby girl will be completely healthy, completely happy, and completely beautiful. Please join in prayer with me.
Showing posts with label Parenthood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Parenthood. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Food for thought
One of the things Dan and I were forewarned about was that it is quite common for former preemies to have oral aversions as they grow older. I guess being on a ventilator for 6 weeks, and having tubes shoved down your throat for the first 3 months of your life will do that to you.
Ian's oral issues are pretty mild. He has some texture issues, and had to have some therapy early on because he had issues with chewing food, but he finally got the hang of it. Perfect technique. The thing is though, just because he knows HOW to chew, doesn't mean that he WANTS to chew. It's just not his favorite thing, and sometimes he will forgo eating altogether if there is a lot of chewing involved. That, my friends, is a habit we are trying to break.
On the menu for dinner last night was rosemary chicken, potatoes, and mixed veggies. On the chewing scale, it ranks as moderate in my book.
As I prepared Ian's plate I said a a short, silent prayer: "Please let Ian eat a good amount of food tonight".
I placed Ian's plate on the table, yelled out "Time for dinner", and without any fuss he got into his chair. Dan said a prayer for the food, we all said Amen, and began to eat.
Ian picked up his fork and took a bite of chicken. Sweet!
A few seconds later he scooped up some potatoes and shoveled those into his mouth. Score!
It took a few minutes of intense chewing, but he successfully swallowed his food. Yippee!
On to the second bite: Ian did another chicken and potato combo, only this time he needed a lot more coaxing and cajoling get him to swallow his food. He finally did it though. Whew, what a relief. Or so I thought. Here is the abbreviated version of what happened next.
Ian: Done! Done! Down please.
Me: Ian you need to eat some more food
Ian: No thank you. Done. Down please
Dan (putting more food on Ian's fork): Here Ian, take a bite
Ian (shrieking and crying): No! Done.
Me (frustrated): Fine Ian, you can go to bed hungry
I helped him get out of the chair, told him to go pick out a book, and that I would be there to read it to him in a few minutes.
*SIGH*
"Don't worry", Dan said. "I'm telling you, there is going to come a day where we are going to worry about how to KEEP him fed. When he'll be eating us out of a house and home."
"Yeah, yeah" I thought to myself.
I was frustrated...
And tired...
And if we're being completely honest, annoyed.
It was obvious it was going to be one of those nights where the kid just didn't eat much. I was simply going to have to shake it off.
I walked into the living room and Ian already had his book picked out. I plopped down next to him on the couch, got comfortable, and we began to read.
Dan walked in a few moments later with a plate in hand (don't worry, we eat in our living room, it's cool) About halfway through the story, Dan stuck out a forkful of food. "Hey Ian, you want to take a bite?" Ian happily leaned over, devoured what was on the fork, and immediately got back into the story. A couple of pages later, Dan gave him another forkful and again Ian gobbled it down. Fast forward a couple of books and most of the food that was on the plate Dan brought in was gone.
Well what do ya know? Looks like the kid ended up eating a good amount of food after all.
Moral of the story: Just because things don't happen exactly the way you expect them to, doesn't mean you won't get the end result you were seeking and praying for.
In my mind, in order for Ian to eat a good amount of food, the family had to be gathered around the dinner table and he would eat bite after bite. When Ian only had two bites at the table, I figured the night was failure (food wise) and chalked it up to a lesson in patience.
I think I'm starting realize that it's my job to have faith, but that it is God's job to work out the details.
Oh, and the second moral of the story: My husband is a freaking genius.
Ian's oral issues are pretty mild. He has some texture issues, and had to have some therapy early on because he had issues with chewing food, but he finally got the hang of it. Perfect technique. The thing is though, just because he knows HOW to chew, doesn't mean that he WANTS to chew. It's just not his favorite thing, and sometimes he will forgo eating altogether if there is a lot of chewing involved. That, my friends, is a habit we are trying to break.
On the menu for dinner last night was rosemary chicken, potatoes, and mixed veggies. On the chewing scale, it ranks as moderate in my book.
As I prepared Ian's plate I said a a short, silent prayer: "Please let Ian eat a good amount of food tonight".
I placed Ian's plate on the table, yelled out "Time for dinner", and without any fuss he got into his chair. Dan said a prayer for the food, we all said Amen, and began to eat.
Ian picked up his fork and took a bite of chicken. Sweet!
A few seconds later he scooped up some potatoes and shoveled those into his mouth. Score!
It took a few minutes of intense chewing, but he successfully swallowed his food. Yippee!
On to the second bite: Ian did another chicken and potato combo, only this time he needed a lot more coaxing and cajoling get him to swallow his food. He finally did it though. Whew, what a relief. Or so I thought. Here is the abbreviated version of what happened next.
Ian: Done! Done! Down please.
Me: Ian you need to eat some more food
Ian: No thank you. Done. Down please
Dan (putting more food on Ian's fork): Here Ian, take a bite
Ian (shrieking and crying): No! Done.
Me (frustrated): Fine Ian, you can go to bed hungry
I helped him get out of the chair, told him to go pick out a book, and that I would be there to read it to him in a few minutes.
*SIGH*
"Don't worry", Dan said. "I'm telling you, there is going to come a day where we are going to worry about how to KEEP him fed. When he'll be eating us out of a house and home."
"Yeah, yeah" I thought to myself.
I was frustrated...
And tired...
And if we're being completely honest, annoyed.
It was obvious it was going to be one of those nights where the kid just didn't eat much. I was simply going to have to shake it off.
I walked into the living room and Ian already had his book picked out. I plopped down next to him on the couch, got comfortable, and we began to read.
Dan walked in a few moments later with a plate in hand (don't worry, we eat in our living room, it's cool) About halfway through the story, Dan stuck out a forkful of food. "Hey Ian, you want to take a bite?" Ian happily leaned over, devoured what was on the fork, and immediately got back into the story. A couple of pages later, Dan gave him another forkful and again Ian gobbled it down. Fast forward a couple of books and most of the food that was on the plate Dan brought in was gone.
Well what do ya know? Looks like the kid ended up eating a good amount of food after all.
Moral of the story: Just because things don't happen exactly the way you expect them to, doesn't mean you won't get the end result you were seeking and praying for.
In my mind, in order for Ian to eat a good amount of food, the family had to be gathered around the dinner table and he would eat bite after bite. When Ian only had two bites at the table, I figured the night was failure (food wise) and chalked it up to a lesson in patience.
I think I'm starting realize that it's my job to have faith, but that it is God's job to work out the details.
Oh, and the second moral of the story: My husband is a freaking genius.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Let the 15 minutes begin
Yesterday was the annual NICU Reunion at the hospital where Ian was born. While we were enjoying the festivities, we were interviewed by the local news. You can check it out here:
Video Link
P.S. Sorry for the external link. I didn't see the code on their site to embed the video on the page and I didn't feel like trying to figure it out.
Video Link
P.S. Sorry for the external link. I didn't see the code on their site to embed the video on the page and I didn't feel like trying to figure it out.
Thursday, August 20, 2009
When Mom is away...
The boys will play
Hey Mom, did you know I could climb a 6ft ladder all by myself?
Hey Mom, you know how you won't let me stand in the swing? Dad will, and it's fun.
I mean REALLY REALLY fun!
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Time for cookies
(excuse the grainy pic to the left, it was taken on a cell cam)A couple of weeks ago the control panel on our stove went out and as a result we could no longer use the oven. Since it was an older stove that was already there when we moved into the house, we opted to get a new one instead of replacing it. When the new stove was finally delivered you know what we had to do don't you? Christen the new stove by baking chocolate chip cookies, of course. Dark chocolate chip cookies to be exact. How else are we supposed to get our antioxidants?
Anyway, since Ian loves to help with, well, anything, I enlisted his help and we got to work.
Are those cookies done yet?
Yummy, I like cookies. Oh, are you taking a picture of me?
Ok, I'm ready to take my picture now
Sunday, May 31, 2009
I was robbed!
Stolen Item: A delicious panko breaded tilapia fish sandwich, served on a slightly toasted wheat bun, with homemade tarter sauce, a dab of ketchup, and a sliver of swiss cheese.
The prime suspect:
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It all started off innocent enough, or so I thought. The person in the photo above joined me on the couch after waking from his afternoon nap. He looked at my beloved sandwich with a certain sparkle in his eye. In hindsight, that should have tipped me off immediately.
Anyway, after a few seconds of sitting quietly, he leaned in and as fast as lightning took a small bite out of my sandwich as I was still holding it.
While I sat in shock, this little person seized the moment, and in one fell swoop took the entire sandwich out of my hands and began to chomp on it.
It was blatant thievery I tell ya...In my own household...On a Sunday!
The prime suspect:
It all started off innocent enough, or so I thought. The person in the photo above joined me on the couch after waking from his afternoon nap. He looked at my beloved sandwich with a certain sparkle in his eye. In hindsight, that should have tipped me off immediately.
Anyway, after a few seconds of sitting quietly, he leaned in and as fast as lightning took a small bite out of my sandwich as I was still holding it.
But wait, there's more.
While I sat in shock, this little person seized the moment, and in one fell swoop took the entire sandwich out of my hands and began to chomp on it.
It was blatant thievery I tell ya...In my own household...On a Sunday!
Tuesday, May 5, 2009
Kids say the darndest things
You know those parents that tell silly little stories about their kid on their blog? Oh come on, you know the type. They tell a story that they think is so cute and funny, but in reality it's probably not cute or funny, it's just that they are so head over heels in love with their kid that they believe everything that he or she does is "so adorable."
Well guess what? I am that parent. Get used to it.
Well guess what? I am that parent. Get used to it.
***Story 1***
A few weeks back we went to my hometown for the weekend. We also went to church with my parents. Now it's no secret that my parents' church service is *ahem* a tad bit longer than the church we attend at home, but I figured with enough crayons, books, snacks, and juice, Ian would be able to make it through the entire service.
I was wrong.
I guess when you turn 2 years old you get a better grasp on the concept of time, because at the time we would be getting out of church at home, Ian looked up and realized that this service was only a little more than halfway done.
Always a man of action, Ian decided he would take the initiative to bring the service to a close by yelling (and I do mean yelling) "DONE! ALL DONE!"
As the eyes of those nearby began to look my way, I quickly covered Ian's mouth, whispered in his ear long enough so the people close to us would think I was the type of parent that knew how to keep her kid in check (ha!), and then slowly uncovered his mouth. I guess whatever I said worked, although he did feel the need to belt out one final "DONE!" before he finally quieted down.
***Story 2***
That same weekend while at my parents house, I briefly saw an Ian shaped blur run past me and into the living room. The smell that followed said blur however, was uh -how shall I say this- not so fresh.
Me: (shouting from the guest room) Ian, did you poo poo?
Ian: (shouting back) No
Me: (getting up and walking into the living room giving my very best stern Momma face) Ian, did you poo poo?
Ian: (wide eyed) Nooooo
Me: (checking the foul smelling diaper) Ian you did poo poo. You didn't tell me the truth. If I ask you "Did you poo poo?" and you did, you need to answer yes. Do you understand?
Ian: Yes
Me: (giving myself an imaginary pat on the back for successfully explaining truthfulness to my obviously brilliant kid) So, Ian, did you poo poo?
Ian: No
I was wrong.
I guess when you turn 2 years old you get a better grasp on the concept of time, because at the time we would be getting out of church at home, Ian looked up and realized that this service was only a little more than halfway done.
Always a man of action, Ian decided he would take the initiative to bring the service to a close by yelling (and I do mean yelling) "DONE! ALL DONE!"
As the eyes of those nearby began to look my way, I quickly covered Ian's mouth, whispered in his ear long enough so the people close to us would think I was the type of parent that knew how to keep her kid in check (ha!), and then slowly uncovered his mouth. I guess whatever I said worked, although he did feel the need to belt out one final "DONE!" before he finally quieted down.
***Story 2***
DISCLAIMER: This story will make use of the word "poo poo"
Me: (shouting from the guest room) Ian, did you poo poo?
Ian: (shouting back) No
Me: (getting up and walking into the living room giving my very best stern Momma face) Ian, did you poo poo?
Ian: (wide eyed) Nooooo
Me: (checking the foul smelling diaper) Ian you did poo poo. You didn't tell me the truth. If I ask you "Did you poo poo?" and you did, you need to answer yes. Do you understand?
Ian: Yes
Me: (giving myself an imaginary pat on the back for successfully explaining truthfulness to my obviously brilliant kid) So, Ian, did you poo poo?
Ian: No
***Story 3***
It's Monday morning and I hear Ian babbling to himself in bed. I head into his room to get him up and going.
"Good morning Pooh. Are you ready to get up?" Ian, stands up in his crib obviously mulling over the question, then he grabs his favorite blanket, squats back down in the bed, and replies "No".
Fair enough, I think to myself. I like to stay in the bed late on Monday mornings too. I turn my back to the kiddo to begin looking through his dresser for clothes for the day, when I realize the shirt I'm looking for is in the closet. When I turn back around I see that Ian has changed his mind and is ready to get out of bed. In fact, he's thrown his leg over the top bar of the crib and is attempting to climb out. Caught off guard, the only reaction I can muster is a sigh combined with an "Oh Lord". While I was content to let him hit the floor and learn his lesson, Ian looked down, and then realized, apparently, this wasn't the brightest idea. He then looked back up at me and replied "Oh Lord".
"Good morning Pooh. Are you ready to get up?" Ian, stands up in his crib obviously mulling over the question, then he grabs his favorite blanket, squats back down in the bed, and replies "No".
Fair enough, I think to myself. I like to stay in the bed late on Monday mornings too. I turn my back to the kiddo to begin looking through his dresser for clothes for the day, when I realize the shirt I'm looking for is in the closet. When I turn back around I see that Ian has changed his mind and is ready to get out of bed. In fact, he's thrown his leg over the top bar of the crib and is attempting to climb out. Caught off guard, the only reaction I can muster is a sigh combined with an "Oh Lord". While I was content to let him hit the floor and learn his lesson, Ian looked down, and then realized, apparently, this wasn't the brightest idea. He then looked back up at me and replied "Oh Lord".
Saturday, April 4, 2009
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Thursday, March 26, 2009
2 years ago today...
When he was born, he immediately opened his eyes and began to look around. The doctors and nurses in the operating room were so surprised. Apparently, it is very rare for a baby born at 24 weeks gestation, a micro-preemie, to open their eyes; But that's my kiddo, he's very curious.
In the NICU, he quickly developed a reputation for being feisty. He pulled out his ventilator tube when he didn't feel like being intubated and put up a heck of a fight when it was time to have his diaper changed; But that's my kiddo, he is strong-willed.
Four weeks after his birth, when the docs discovered that our 2 pound son would need surgery, they were not very optimistic. They gently warned us that it was going to be tricky to operate on baby that was born so early, and that had been so sick. Surprisingly, (to the docs, not us, we knew we had tons of friends and family praying for us) the surgery was a breeze; But that's my kiddo, he's a fighter.
A few days ago, while walking him to his room for bed, he turned around so he could go give his Daddy another kiss on the cheek; That's my kiddo, he loves his Dad.
And last night, after several minutes of whining, I figured out that all he wanted to do was sit in my lap, read a book, and snuggle with me before bedtime; That's my kiddo, he sure knows how to put a smile on his Mom's face.
In the NICU, he quickly developed a reputation for being feisty. He pulled out his ventilator tube when he didn't feel like being intubated and put up a heck of a fight when it was time to have his diaper changed; But that's my kiddo, he is strong-willed.
Four weeks after his birth, when the docs discovered that our 2 pound son would need surgery, they were not very optimistic. They gently warned us that it was going to be tricky to operate on baby that was born so early, and that had been so sick. Surprisingly, (to the docs, not us, we knew we had tons of friends and family praying for us) the surgery was a breeze; But that's my kiddo, he's a fighter.
A few days ago, while walking him to his room for bed, he turned around so he could go give his Daddy another kiss on the cheek; That's my kiddo, he loves his Dad.
And last night, after several minutes of whining, I figured out that all he wanted to do was sit in my lap, read a book, and snuggle with me before bedtime; That's my kiddo, he sure knows how to put a smile on his Mom's face.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY IAN!!
Friday, February 13, 2009
Just Because
What do you get when you ask an almost 2 year old to put on his PJ's?
How can you tell when your toddler might be hungry?
Who loves to lie in the floor with his favorite blanket after a bath?
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
The Ghost of Christmas Past
Last Friday we decided to venture out to the Trail of Lights. This was the first visit for Ian and I was SO excited. For those who aren't familiar, the trail of lights is a 1.25 mile trail of elaborate Christmas displays (41 displays to be exact). Along the trail there is food, entertainment, and crafts. Good stuff.
When we decided to hit the trail, it made me reminisce of Christmas when I was a child. I remember how my parents and our family friends would pile into our van, drive around neighborhoods near and far, oohing and aahing over the intricate Christmas decorations. Good times.
Anyway, after properly overdosing on the nostalgia of Christmases past, Dan and I prepped the diaper bag, grabbed the stroller, along with a few emergency snacks, and made our way towards the park.
Note to self: The fantasy world and the real world are two totally different places.
See in the fantasy world, the trail of lights is a magical place for kids and adults alike. There are Christmas carols playing in the background, children giddy with laughter, parents with their hands interlaced looking lovingly towards each other as well as their child(ren), all the while absorbing the magic that is Christmas.
In the real world however, it's a bunch of overtired kids hopped up on sugar that are up way past their bedtime. They are surrounded by exhausted parents that just got off of work, and had to sit in a ridiculous amount of traffic, and instead of Christmas carols, there is the occasional parental outburst of "HEY, STOP BEING A BRAT!"
Well count us among the tired parents out with a kid up way past his bedtime, but I think we still managed to have a good time. I introduced Ian to wonder that is funnel cakes (which is even more proof that God exists and love us), and we even managed to take a couple of blurry, out of focus pics. I figured out rather early on that we weren't going to have spectacular pictures. There are thousands of people out there, and if you pause for too long, you're bound to be run down by several thousand strollers. Not worth it.
Either way, I hope you enjoy the blurry pics!
When we decided to hit the trail, it made me reminisce of Christmas when I was a child. I remember how my parents and our family friends would pile into our van, drive around neighborhoods near and far, oohing and aahing over the intricate Christmas decorations. Good times.
Anyway, after properly overdosing on the nostalgia of Christmases past, Dan and I prepped the diaper bag, grabbed the stroller, along with a few emergency snacks, and made our way towards the park.
Note to self: The fantasy world and the real world are two totally different places.
See in the fantasy world, the trail of lights is a magical place for kids and adults alike. There are Christmas carols playing in the background, children giddy with laughter, parents with their hands interlaced looking lovingly towards each other as well as their child(ren), all the while absorbing the magic that is Christmas.
In the real world however, it's a bunch of overtired kids hopped up on sugar that are up way past their bedtime. They are surrounded by exhausted parents that just got off of work, and had to sit in a ridiculous amount of traffic, and instead of Christmas carols, there is the occasional parental outburst of "HEY, STOP BEING A BRAT!"
Well count us among the tired parents out with a kid up way past his bedtime, but I think we still managed to have a good time. I introduced Ian to wonder that is funnel cakes (which is even more proof that God exists and love us), and we even managed to take a couple of blurry, out of focus pics. I figured out rather early on that we weren't going to have spectacular pictures. There are thousands of people out there, and if you pause for too long, you're bound to be run down by several thousand strollers. Not worth it.
Either way, I hope you enjoy the blurry pics!
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
It makes it all worth it
I'm at home with a sick Ian for the second time in two weeks.
I got a call from his care provider yesterday, saying that Ian had a fever that quickly skyrocketed to 103 degrees. Being the overprotective parent that I am, Dan and I rushed Ian to the doctor, and after an exam, x-ray, and blood work, all per the doctor's request, it turns out it is just a viral infection that has to run its course. After a good nights rest, Ian's temperature has finally returned to normal and he is more himself.
To celebrate a happier kiddo, I decided to cook some of Ian's favorites for breakfast instead of the usual cheerios or oatmeal. The menu consisted of scrambled eggs, chicken apple sausage, and toast with strawberry jelly. After breakfast was over, I began clearing the table, but when I went to unbuckle Ian from the high chair, he stopped me and grabbed my hand. Confused, I said "What's wrong Pooh?", and then he did the sweetest thing. He kissed my hand.
Then, in an attempt to make my heart completely explode, when I picked Ian up all ready to smother him with hugs and kisses, he grabbed my face, pulled it closer to him, and kissed my cheek.
I tell ya, just when I begin to question whether or not I'm cut out for this parenting thing, this kid has a way of making me feel all better.
He's a keeper.
I got a call from his care provider yesterday, saying that Ian had a fever that quickly skyrocketed to 103 degrees. Being the overprotective parent that I am, Dan and I rushed Ian to the doctor, and after an exam, x-ray, and blood work, all per the doctor's request, it turns out it is just a viral infection that has to run its course. After a good nights rest, Ian's temperature has finally returned to normal and he is more himself.
To celebrate a happier kiddo, I decided to cook some of Ian's favorites for breakfast instead of the usual cheerios or oatmeal. The menu consisted of scrambled eggs, chicken apple sausage, and toast with strawberry jelly. After breakfast was over, I began clearing the table, but when I went to unbuckle Ian from the high chair, he stopped me and grabbed my hand. Confused, I said "What's wrong Pooh?", and then he did the sweetest thing. He kissed my hand.
Then, in an attempt to make my heart completely explode, when I picked Ian up all ready to smother him with hugs and kisses, he grabbed my face, pulled it closer to him, and kissed my cheek.
I tell ya, just when I begin to question whether or not I'm cut out for this parenting thing, this kid has a way of making me feel all better.
He's a keeper.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
I guess it was bound to happen
Ian is sick.
Well, it's either a cold or really bad allergies. Either way he's not a happy camper these days.
It all started late last week when we noticed he had a slight cough. By Saturday night, his cough turned into this loud, persistent, sleep disturbing, highly congested hack, and we decided to take him to the doctor early Sunday morning (thank God for our after hours doctor's office).
Thankfully, his oxygen saturation levels are in the acceptable range, so right now we are on a medicinal cocktail of daily steroid treatments combined with frequent breathing treatments via nebulizer.
Seeing how last night was a rough one (he woke up practically every two hours crying and coughing, and also had a low grade fever ) we'll probably make a judgment call Thanksgiving day on whether we will still go out of town.
This is the first cold that Ian has had since we brought him home from the hospital, so I'm dealing with my fair share of "Mommy guilt". Dan is calm and collected as usual :-)
If you get a chance, please say a quick prayer of healing for Ian.
Well, it's either a cold or really bad allergies. Either way he's not a happy camper these days.
It all started late last week when we noticed he had a slight cough. By Saturday night, his cough turned into this loud, persistent, sleep disturbing, highly congested hack, and we decided to take him to the doctor early Sunday morning (thank God for our after hours doctor's office).
Thankfully, his oxygen saturation levels are in the acceptable range, so right now we are on a medicinal cocktail of daily steroid treatments combined with frequent breathing treatments via nebulizer.
Seeing how last night was a rough one (he woke up practically every two hours crying and coughing, and also had a low grade fever ) we'll probably make a judgment call Thanksgiving day on whether we will still go out of town.
This is the first cold that Ian has had since we brought him home from the hospital, so I'm dealing with my fair share of "Mommy guilt". Dan is calm and collected as usual :-)
If you get a chance, please say a quick prayer of healing for Ian.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
The night the lights went out
One of the fun things I like to do with Ian, is attempt to scare the crap out of him.
We'll be playing a game of chase, and once he is in a spot where he can't see me anymore, I'll double back, sneak up on him and yell something like "RAAAAAAR." In the old days this used to make him cry (yes, I'll take that mother of the year award now), but nowadays he enjoys it just as much as I do. He has even taken to sneaking upon me and scaring me, although his shout of terror is that high pitched screeching sound that seems to be limited to children age 4 and under.
Anyway, you can imagine how much fun we had when a few evenings ago the entire neighborhood lost electricity around sunset. It took the scare tactics to a whole Halloweenesqe level. Good times.
Here are a few pictures of the blackout. As expected, they are pretty dark, but I thought they would be kind of fun to post :)
Oooooohh, are you scared?
We'll be playing a game of chase, and once he is in a spot where he can't see me anymore, I'll double back, sneak up on him and yell something like "RAAAAAAR." In the old days this used to make him cry (yes, I'll take that mother of the year award now), but nowadays he enjoys it just as much as I do. He has even taken to sneaking upon me and scaring me, although his shout of terror is that high pitched screeching sound that seems to be limited to children age 4 and under.
Anyway, you can imagine how much fun we had when a few evenings ago the entire neighborhood lost electricity around sunset. It took the scare tactics to a whole Halloweenesqe level. Good times.
Here are a few pictures of the blackout. As expected, they are pretty dark, but I thought they would be kind of fun to post :)
Ian and Mommy
Ian and Daddy
Oooooohh, are you scared?
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
I am a liar
...Or at least that's what Ian would have you believe.
Like any delusional, first-time parent, I believe my child is the best, the smartest, and the funnest kid around. I think other people should feel the same way, so what do I do to accomplish this goal? I brag about him.
That's right, I brag on my kid, and each time I do he manages to make me look like a pathological liar.
I tell everyone about his increasing vocabulary:
Bragging Point 1: "Ian is becoming quite chatty these days. His latest words are: All Done, More, Duck, Door, Yes, and Go, go, go (taught to him by John Paul). Ian, can you say "All Done?"
Ian's Response: ***Silence ***
I tell people how affectionate he is:
Bragging Point 2: "Ian is so sweet. He just loves to give me kisses. Ian, give Mommy a kiss."
Ian's Response: He looks at me as if I have just spit on him.
I comment that he's always on the go:
Bragging Point 3: "Ian is so cute when he walks. Watch. Ian, walk to Momma."
Ian's Response: He begins crawling
I tell people about his infectious laugh:
Bragging Point 4: "When Ian laughs, you can't help but do the same. He has the cutest laugh you've ever heard (In my best funny voice as I prepare to tickle him) Ian, the tickle monster is going to get you."
Ian's response: Crying
Oh and what happens once we are alone?
Like clockwork he starts running, while screaming "Go, go, go", collapses on the floor in laughter, and finishes off by giving me a kiss on the cheek.
Why do I even bother? :)
Like any delusional, first-time parent, I believe my child is the best, the smartest, and the funnest kid around. I think other people should feel the same way, so what do I do to accomplish this goal? I brag about him.
That's right, I brag on my kid, and each time I do he manages to make me look like a pathological liar.
I tell everyone about his increasing vocabulary:
Bragging Point 1: "Ian is becoming quite chatty these days. His latest words are: All Done, More, Duck, Door, Yes, and Go, go, go (taught to him by John Paul). Ian, can you say "All Done?"
Ian's Response: ***Silence ***
I tell people how affectionate he is:
Bragging Point 2: "Ian is so sweet. He just loves to give me kisses. Ian, give Mommy a kiss."
Ian's Response: He looks at me as if I have just spit on him.
I comment that he's always on the go:
Bragging Point 3: "Ian is so cute when he walks. Watch. Ian, walk to Momma."
Ian's Response: He begins crawling
I tell people about his infectious laugh:
Bragging Point 4: "When Ian laughs, you can't help but do the same. He has the cutest laugh you've ever heard (In my best funny voice as I prepare to tickle him) Ian, the tickle monster is going to get you."
Ian's response: Crying
Oh and what happens once we are alone?
Like clockwork he starts running, while screaming "Go, go, go", collapses on the floor in laughter, and finishes off by giving me a kiss on the cheek.
Why do I even bother? :)
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
Crouching Tiger, Hidden Ian
You see this?
This is my living room.
It's nothing too fancy, just a couch, a couple of chairs, an ottoman, a ladder bookshelf, and a TV (not pictured). I show you this photo, not because I think my living room is wonderfully decorated (I'm working on it). I show you this because you will need it as reference for the rest of this story, so just take a good look and stash it in your memory box.
It's a nice, sunny Saturday afternoon and Dan and I have been straightening up the house. As we tidy up each room and move on to the next, we make sure to close the door to the newly cleaned room. It's a precaution, you see. If we leave the doors open, Ian will crawl into the room, close the door, and then sit right in front of it so that we can't open door. As you can imagine, it's the perfect toddler game, but not so much fun for Mommy and Daddy.
Anyway, once all of the rooms were cleaned, Dan decided to watch some TV in the living room, Ian was playing basketball in the corner next to the TV, and I decided to head into to kitchen to make some lunch.
As I'm preparing lunch, and basking in the glow of our freshly cleaned home, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Ian was crawling away from his basketball game. I didn't give it much thought since I knew that we closed all of the doors in the house, which meant he had to stay in the common area. After a couple of minutes of silence from Ian, I decided to find out what he was doing.
"Pooh", I called out. "What are you doing?"
Silence.
Me: "Dan, is Ian playing basketball over there."
Hubby: "Nah, I think he's behind the couch playing with some of his other toys."
Thanking God for open floor plans, I peer over the counter to sneak a peek at the kid.
Hmm, no Ian.
I glanced down the main hallway to see if he was sitting there playing.
Nothing.
At this point, my heart starts racing a little bit. Where the heck is this kid? I'm nervous, but I'm steadily reassuring myself that it was silly to get worked up over this. Obviously he's in the house, and odds are he's fine.
So now I'm thinking maybe I didn't close one of the doors all the way, and he managed to get into one of the rooms. I checked 2 of the bedrooms, and when I still didn't see the master of hide and seek, I decided to ask Dan to help me find him. After another 15 seconds or so of searching I heard Dan exclaim "Boy! What are you doing there?", and then he proceeds to laugh quite loudly.
I hurriedly head back towards the living room where the noise was coming from, and this is what I saw.
Do you know where he is? Go ahead, refer back to the living room pic. I'll give you a minute.
.
.
.
Yep, that rascal crawled behind the ladder bookshelf and was quietly crouching behind it. Crouching, I say! He only stood up once Dan saw him. We thought this was so hilarious that, of course, we just had to take a picture.
When will I ever stop underestimating this kid?
This is my living room.
It's nothing too fancy, just a couch, a couple of chairs, an ottoman, a ladder bookshelf, and a TV (not pictured). I show you this photo, not because I think my living room is wonderfully decorated (I'm working on it). I show you this because you will need it as reference for the rest of this story, so just take a good look and stash it in your memory box.
*****Picture it*****
It's a nice, sunny Saturday afternoon and Dan and I have been straightening up the house. As we tidy up each room and move on to the next, we make sure to close the door to the newly cleaned room. It's a precaution, you see. If we leave the doors open, Ian will crawl into the room, close the door, and then sit right in front of it so that we can't open door. As you can imagine, it's the perfect toddler game, but not so much fun for Mommy and Daddy.
Anyway, once all of the rooms were cleaned, Dan decided to watch some TV in the living room, Ian was playing basketball in the corner next to the TV, and I decided to head into to kitchen to make some lunch.
As I'm preparing lunch, and basking in the glow of our freshly cleaned home, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that Ian was crawling away from his basketball game. I didn't give it much thought since I knew that we closed all of the doors in the house, which meant he had to stay in the common area. After a couple of minutes of silence from Ian, I decided to find out what he was doing.
"Pooh", I called out. "What are you doing?"
Silence.
Me: "Dan, is Ian playing basketball over there."
Hubby: "Nah, I think he's behind the couch playing with some of his other toys."
Thanking God for open floor plans, I peer over the counter to sneak a peek at the kid.
Hmm, no Ian.
I glanced down the main hallway to see if he was sitting there playing.
Nothing.
At this point, my heart starts racing a little bit. Where the heck is this kid? I'm nervous, but I'm steadily reassuring myself that it was silly to get worked up over this. Obviously he's in the house, and odds are he's fine.
So now I'm thinking maybe I didn't close one of the doors all the way, and he managed to get into one of the rooms. I checked 2 of the bedrooms, and when I still didn't see the master of hide and seek, I decided to ask Dan to help me find him. After another 15 seconds or so of searching I heard Dan exclaim "Boy! What are you doing there?", and then he proceeds to laugh quite loudly.
I hurriedly head back towards the living room where the noise was coming from, and this is what I saw.
Do you know where he is? Go ahead, refer back to the living room pic. I'll give you a minute.
.
.
.
Yep, that rascal crawled behind the ladder bookshelf and was quietly crouching behind it. Crouching, I say! He only stood up once Dan saw him. We thought this was so hilarious that, of course, we just had to take a picture.
When will I ever stop underestimating this kid?
Monday, July 21, 2008
We went swimming...Well, kinda
This past weekend, we packed up the little one and headed to Dan's hometown. The occasion was a surprise birthday party for my mother-in-law, and it was a lot of fun. It appears that Dan's mom was genuinely surprised, and the party went well. It was a good time to let her know just how special, loved, talented, giving, and inspirational she is, and I think she appreciated it.
Over the weekend, we also decided to take Ian "swimming" for the first time. I put swimming in quotation marks, because what we really did was turn down the temperature in my father-in-law's hot tub, put on our swimming trunks/suits and splashed around in the water. Ian seemed to enjoy himself though, and that's all that matters.
Here are a few pics
Over the weekend, we also decided to take Ian "swimming" for the first time. I put swimming in quotation marks, because what we really did was turn down the temperature in my father-in-law's hot tub, put on our swimming trunks/suits and splashed around in the water. Ian seemed to enjoy himself though, and that's all that matters.
Here are a few pics
Monday, July 14, 2008
Charismatic Church Movement...Who's with me?!
Listen up people 'cause I have something to say. I have an idea, but I'm going to need some help to carry it out.
I am here to propse that we, those who attempt to attend church on a regular basis, begin what I've lovingly named, the charismatic church movement (which from here on out will be referred to as CCM). What is a CCM? I'm glad you asked. CCM is a movement to turn our quiet, reserved, prim and proper traditional churches, into band blaring, hand clapping, praise dancing churches. That's right, I want drums so loud, that you can feel the rhythm in your chest. I want shouts of praise from everyone in attendance. I want preaching so boisterous and extravagant, you can't hear anything else, and do you want to know why I want all these things? Hmm, do ya? Well, I'll tell you.
I'm heading up the CCM so that you, the quiet churchgoer, will be so inundated with noise, you won't even notice the giggling, squealing, crawling, jumping, and yelling, that my 15 month old son is doing.
Now I know it sounds like I want this for purely selfish reasons, but I assure you this isn't the case. I don't want this just for my benefit, I want this for all the parents out there. I'm willing to bet that most parents that have children under the age of 3 (please God, tell me it gets better as they get older) would appreciate this. Just think of this as my act of Christian service.
Oh, and for you parents with your 3 month old infant that naps so sweetly and quietly during church. I see the looks you give me as I carry Ian out of the sanctuary with his legs flailing as he screams "GA GA GA WRAAAAAA". I don't judge you though. No, I just take comfort in the fact that in about 6 months, you will join the rest of us packing sippy cups, juice, snacks, books, toys, tranquilizers, and anything else that will keep your kid quiet for an entire church service.
Yes, I look forward to it, because on that day, we can stand together before God and everyone else, and loudly proclaim "CCM Parents Unite!!!!"
I am here to propse that we, those who attempt to attend church on a regular basis, begin what I've lovingly named, the charismatic church movement (which from here on out will be referred to as CCM). What is a CCM? I'm glad you asked. CCM is a movement to turn our quiet, reserved, prim and proper traditional churches, into band blaring, hand clapping, praise dancing churches. That's right, I want drums so loud, that you can feel the rhythm in your chest. I want shouts of praise from everyone in attendance. I want preaching so boisterous and extravagant, you can't hear anything else, and do you want to know why I want all these things? Hmm, do ya? Well, I'll tell you.
I'm heading up the CCM so that you, the quiet churchgoer, will be so inundated with noise, you won't even notice the giggling, squealing, crawling, jumping, and yelling, that my 15 month old son is doing.
Now I know it sounds like I want this for purely selfish reasons, but I assure you this isn't the case. I don't want this just for my benefit, I want this for all the parents out there. I'm willing to bet that most parents that have children under the age of 3 (please God, tell me it gets better as they get older) would appreciate this. Just think of this as my act of Christian service.
Oh, and for you parents with your 3 month old infant that naps so sweetly and quietly during church. I see the looks you give me as I carry Ian out of the sanctuary with his legs flailing as he screams "GA GA GA WRAAAAAA". I don't judge you though. No, I just take comfort in the fact that in about 6 months, you will join the rest of us packing sippy cups, juice, snacks, books, toys, tranquilizers, and anything else that will keep your kid quiet for an entire church service.
Yes, I look forward to it, because on that day, we can stand together before God and everyone else, and loudly proclaim "CCM Parents Unite!!!!"
Thursday, July 10, 2008
A year ago today...
On the afternoon of July 10, 2007, Dan and I brought Ian home for the very first time. After a 100+ day stay in the NICU, Ian was finally able to see his room for the first time. It is so amazing to think that an entire year has passed. I still remember all the emotions that were running through me that day. Excitement, fear, worry; and oh my, all the questions I had. How would we be able to keep up with Ian's medication schedule? Did I remember how to work the oxygen tank/concentrator, the apnea monitor, and the nebulizer for breathing treatments? How would I ever be able to sleep without fear of the apnea monitor going off? 
But now, here we are a year removed, and Ian is healthy, happy, strong, and all is right with the world. It's also interesting to note that on today, the anniversary of Ian's homecoming, we also celebrate the fact that Ian is officially med free! That's right, this morning Ian took the final dose of his very last medication. Hurray!In light of Ian's homecoming anniversary, and the end of his medications, we decided to celebrate. Nothing big, just the three of us, hanging out, eating spaghetti, and for dessert we decided to get some pie (yum!). I guess I passed down my love of chocolate, because Ian inhaled the chocolate cream pie. It's cute now, but we may have to nip this in the bud. There can't be two chocolate lovers in the house. It could make for some ugly fights when it gets down to the last piece of chocolate.
Anyway, all in all, it was a good day. I got to hang out with my men, eat some good food, and reflect on the past year. Yep, it was a good day indeed.
What a difference a year makes!
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Loss of Innocence
Reminisce with me for a moment, will you?
Let's go back in time, way back. Back to when storks delivered babies and little people lived inside the television. Back to a time where Santa Claus was real and the Tooth Fairy left money under your pillow. Yes, lets go back...
Let's go to a time of youth; a time of innocence. Ah yes, the good ol' days.
Remember how much fun it was to play outside for hours on end? Or how thrilled you were when your parents bought a new toy for you?
Speaking of toys, do you see this toy below? This is one of Ian's favorite toys.
He will crawl up to the basketball goal, grab one of the toy basketballs, and DUNK IT! The little scoreboard section lights up, and it plays a little song and there is even fake crowd/applause sounds. It's pretty cool.
Now Ian doesn't know about batteries, or the fact that there is a little lever that trips whenever the ball goes through the goal to signal the music/scoreboard. All he knows is that if he can manage to put that ball through the circle, the baby party will begin.
One morning as I was preparing Ian's bottle, I heard him grab the toy basketball. Just a few moments later, I heard "dun dun na naaaaaaa" (that's the best I can do to imitate the initial sound played when a basket is made. use your imagination).
Me: "Whoo hoo!! Way to go Ian! Yeah!!"
As I continued in the kitchen, I noticed that Ian was silent for a little bit. Just when I was about to check to make sure he didn't get into something he shouldn't have, I heard "dun dun na naaaaaaa".
Me again: "Yippee, Pooh. You made another one." <dun dun na naaaaaaa> "Alright Ian, you're on a ro...." <dun dun na naaaaaaa> "Wow, you're getting really goo..." <dun dun na naaaaaaa>
As you can imagine, by this time I'm eagerly heading towards the living room to see my baby Shaq perform. Busy with visions of NBA drafts, early retirement, and season tickets for my favorite NBA team (the one Ian would be playing for of course), it never dawned on me that while I had been hearing the music to signal a basket had been made, I had not been hearing the basketball go through the hoop.
Yep, that's right. When I got to the living room, this is what I saw.
If you notice, Ian doesn't have a basketball in his hand. Nope, they are both safe and sound. He did figure out that it wasn't the ball going through the hoop that started the fun, it was the lever.
Ah, they grow up so fast :)
Let's go back in time, way back. Back to when storks delivered babies and little people lived inside the television. Back to a time where Santa Claus was real and the Tooth Fairy left money under your pillow. Yes, lets go back...
Let's go to a time of youth; a time of innocence. Ah yes, the good ol' days.
Remember how much fun it was to play outside for hours on end? Or how thrilled you were when your parents bought a new toy for you?
Speaking of toys, do you see this toy below? This is one of Ian's favorite toys.
He will crawl up to the basketball goal, grab one of the toy basketballs, and DUNK IT! The little scoreboard section lights up, and it plays a little song and there is even fake crowd/applause sounds. It's pretty cool.
Now Ian doesn't know about batteries, or the fact that there is a little lever that trips whenever the ball goes through the goal to signal the music/scoreboard. All he knows is that if he can manage to put that ball through the circle, the baby party will begin.
One morning as I was preparing Ian's bottle, I heard him grab the toy basketball. Just a few moments later, I heard "dun dun na naaaaaaa" (that's the best I can do to imitate the initial sound played when a basket is made. use your imagination).
Me: "Whoo hoo!! Way to go Ian! Yeah!!"
As I continued in the kitchen, I noticed that Ian was silent for a little bit. Just when I was about to check to make sure he didn't get into something he shouldn't have, I heard "dun dun na naaaaaaa".
Me again: "Yippee, Pooh. You made another one." <dun dun na naaaaaaa> "Alright Ian, you're on a ro...." <dun dun na naaaaaaa> "Wow, you're getting really goo..." <dun dun na naaaaaaa>
As you can imagine, by this time I'm eagerly heading towards the living room to see my baby Shaq perform. Busy with visions of NBA drafts, early retirement, and season tickets for my favorite NBA team (the one Ian would be playing for of course), it never dawned on me that while I had been hearing the music to signal a basket had been made, I had not been hearing the basketball go through the hoop.
Yep, that's right. When I got to the living room, this is what I saw.
If you notice, Ian doesn't have a basketball in his hand. Nope, they are both safe and sound. He did figure out that it wasn't the ball going through the hoop that started the fun, it was the lever.
Ah, they grow up so fast :)
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