Cheerio Confessions

I don't know where to begin.

Yesterday I took Mr. Emmett John for his 18 month well-baby check-up with Dr. H. Tomorrow I will take him to the Audiologist to have his hearing tested. Physically, he's doing well. He isn't sick. Motor skills are right on track. He's still channeling Jack-Jack, which is absolutely exhausting. I honestly don't know how he does it. One minute he's right next to you then he's gone and there are 6 of him everywhere! On the bright side, his constant movement doesn't seem to be having any effect on his growth...

Well, Christmas has officially come and gone. There are now...what, 364 days to Christmas 2010. Or something like that. Thank God! No offense to Jesus or Mary or anything but I'm telling you what...every year the Holidays get more difficult to survive.

I had everything planned out this year. I was going to start preparing just after Halloween so that I wasn't running around like a chicken with my head cut off come Christmas Eve. It didn't work. I didn't get any of the gifts made that I wanted to. I didn't get the kids all figured out etc so I could help them create their gifts for everyone. My Mom was the only one who's gift was completely finished in time to give to her. And I was running around up until 30 seconds before she came in the door to get that wrapped etc.

But it's not just the prep work. Or the decorating, which I can't even manage to find a way to get done anymore. It's all of it. It all seems so complicated. Now don't get me wrong here, I'm not a Scrooge by any means. I just noticed this is all.

Take toys for example. You have the gifts that Gavin and Elliott Richard received, which were taped in and twist-tied in. Am I the only one who thinks this is complete and total overkill? But I digress...their gifts are protected with the strength that I thought only Fort Knox could offer. Then you have Mr. Emmett John's gifts. Most of his gifts were what I affectionately call "Old School" toys. He received the pull behind telephone, the shape block sorter and the little "bed bug bopper". None of those were taped or twist-tied. You opened the box and pulled them out. End of story.

Heck even if you compare video games! When I was a kid, the Nintendo was the "in thing". Everyone either had one, knew someone who did and/or wanted one so badly they could almost taste it. True, by today's standards the graphics are horrid. However, the controls were easy and straight forward. Up was up. Down was down. You get the idea. Nothing was overly complicated. Now there are 3 different major systems with beautiful graphics in their own right. Each specializes in a different type of game genre. And each seems to have their own unique way of making the controls complicated.

Sorry to be all doom and gloom, I'm just over-whelmed from all the running and buying and wrapping and the going and visiting and whatnot. I still think it holds true though - things have gotten far to complicated over the years. At times, I really do feel that it's almost complicated simply for the sake of being complicated. But that's just me. =)

Aside from taped and twist-tied to death new toys (more pictures to come tomorrow), the Cheerios are doing well. We are exhausted and well-fed. We had a blast with family. And now we are all attempting to recover. Except the boys seem perfectly content to stay hyper and completely bouncing-off-the-walls. (lol) Our Christmas was beautiful and everything a Christmas should be. And we hope that you and yours had a very Merry Christmas!

I can't believe Emmett John is 17 months old now. Time is going by way too fast for me. Geez, in 11 days he'll be 18 months old. I can't believe everything that has changed with him. Everything he's been up to.

His nickname has taken some interesting and unexpected turns. What used to be small and cutsie and bug based, is no more. (lol) Although I'm not sure why I'm so surprised. If you remember I went through the evolution of my Boys nicknames a while ago and it's crazy what happens. Mr. Emmett John now goes by either Jack-Jack or Indy, which is short for Indiana Jones because he tends to get into/find dangerous and troublesome situations. Jack-Jack is from the Disney/Pixsar movie "The Incredibles". And just for the record, dangerous and troublesome are entirely accurate descriptions.



(Okay, so while I absolutely adore my layout but it isn't exactly the widest layout ever in existance. If you really need to have the "volume control". Or the option for "full screen". Or the entire *waves hands frantically in the air* RIGHT SIDE OF THE CLIP! Then fine! Just double clip the movie or click RIGHT HERE to watch it on YouTube. If you really want to be that way.)

Anyway, moving right along. (lol)

Since I've brought up his dangerous and troublesome activities, I feel I should let you in on his new "Kid Tricks". Which aren't nearly as dangerous as the actual Jack-Jack, by the way. Let's see...what our Jack-Jack's been up to lately? He runs and sometimes I swear there are more than one of him (hense the "Jack-Jack" nickname) because one second he's climbing the back of the couch - like the flat back, not the cushion to back. But then as soon as he's there, he's on the stairs and then *BOOM* as up the stairs and down again. Then *BOOM* he's pushing Elliott Richard on a push toy. It all seems to happen within seconds and I swear there are more than one of him and they all move at super-human speeds!

He loves to play "tag". He'll play with just about anyone. With Maggie Sue. With Elliott Richard. With Rob or I. The catch is that most of the time we aren't playing. In fact, Maggie usually doesn;t even realize that she's playing tag. (lol) Basically, he chases her from the living room to the dinning room. Once there he "sqees" and runs away! Maggie hears him "sqee" and assumes something must be wrong, so she follows in hot persuit. And so goes the game of "tag" according to Emmett John.

The other "kid trick" he does that I just love, is when he point to you and runs. Every once in a while he will stand up and look around trying to decide who he wants to be held by. Once he decides, he'll point both index fingers at them "horns of a bull" style and run as fast as he can at that person with a huge grin on his face. I just love it. (lol)

I know I'm a horrible slacker mother right now. I'm not keeping up with what the kids are doing. For the most part, Emmett John is right on track. For the most part. There is just that one little thing. That one nagging little bit. Well, okay maybe it's a big bit. I can't decide.

He doesn't talk.

My gut. My mother's intuition. My inner-me. The inner-mommy. They all say that this is a Big, Huge, Waving, Warning, Look-at-Me Red Flag. Then I have well-meaning family members who tell me that Uncle Rick didn't say his first word until he was 2 and 1/2 years old. Uncle Rick is a wonderful, very intelligent man. He's one of my favorite uncles. Heck, he's Elliott Richard's Godfather so clearly he isn't a slouch in my book. And no disrespect to Grandma Gene but Uncle Rick isn't my Emmett John. I wasn't her. I don't know what her inner-mommy was telling her. I only know what my inner-mommy is telling me.

Problem is that even Dr. H is on the "everything will eventually be okay" train. First, he said "if he doesn't talk by 15 months then we'll worry". But Emmett John technically talked by 15 months. He said 2 different words. He said "cookie" maybe 5 times and "cracker" 1 time. He's never said those words again. He understands when we talk to him. He doesn't talk back. You can see he's clearly frustrated. Our faces bear the marks of his frustration. He's a pincher. Yesterday, he and Elliott Richard were standing at the baby gated enterance to the kitchen talking to me while I made snack. Well, Elliott Richard was talking. Emmett John wanted to talk. You could literally see it in his face but he couldn't get it out. Finally, he became so frustrated with the whole situation that he screamed and reached out and pinched Elliott Richard's face all in one swift move. It breaks my heart!

Now don't get me wrong he communicates some. He babbles. He makes what I call "pitch noises", which is where he does like the Tim Allen in "Home Improvement" guy "Arrrooo" thing at different pitches. So it isn't that he's mute because he isn't. He just doesn't speak in words or sentences. We've also heard that it could be because he's the youngest, perhaps we are speaking for him so he doesn't need to speak. We don't and he does. At times Elliott Richard will say, "Emmett John says..." and finish the sentence with some silly little 3 year old hilarity but very rarely to we actually speak for him.

In an attempt to communicate with him, some how I've been trying to teach him Baby American Sign Language. I only know a few words right now. But it's a start. I'm hoping that it will help Emmett John once he learns the signs for himself and he is finally able to tell us what he needs or wants. He "said/signed" his first word yesterday though, which was a pretty big deal around here. He signed "Daddy" to Rob. Then I asked him if he wanted to "sleep with Daddy" or "movie with Mommy" and he went with me. He went to the living room. Now when we sign to him, we say verbally what we are signing so he puts 2 and 2 together. In my experience, and it may just be wishful thinking, he seems to understand the conversations better this way. Only time will tell, I suppose.

I just hope he is able to finally find a way to communicate so he isn't frustrated any longer. It is one of the saddest things in the world to see your baby struggle that way. Knowing he has something to say. Seeing that he is trying so hard to say that and getting so stuck that he ends up striking out in anger when he can't. Something has to change for him very soon before this mama gets angry and starts to lay the smack down.

I have been putting a "water mark" via Photobucket on my photos - both new and old. I am trying to keep these from taking too much away from the pictures themselves; however, at the same time I am trying to make it so that the pictures cannot be copied from my blog and printed out for personal use.

Again, I'm sorry for the generic nature of my "water mark". I will see what I can do to make it more professional and less intrusive in the future. For now, I have to work with what I have.

Thank you for the understanding! :)

1.) I'm hoping for a day in the future ... when my daily and/or weekly dose of drama will be limited to "Mom, he won't share that toy!" or one of my neighbors getting drunk and running her mouth.

2.) I'm hoping for a day in the future ... when Emmett John will not be a medical mystery. He will not have any specialists and will only need to see Dr. H for well baby visits and the occasional sick visits.

3.) I'm hoping for a day in the future ... when I can write what I want, when I want on my blog and not worry about who is reading it.

4.) I'm hoping for a day in the future ... when I can pay my balance off to John (my attorney) and not have someone (who shall remain nameless - we all know who though) file something else. At which point, my balance will return again because John has to prepare to fight, again. It gets old.

5.) I'm hoping for a day in the future ... when Elliott Richard will decided that he no longer "likes to be pee-pee soaped" and he wants to use the potty. Then we will only have Mr. Emmett John to put in diapers. And we will also be able to put Elliott Richard into pre-school, which I know he would love.

6.) I'm hoping for a day in the future ... when Dr. T is able to find a medication or combination of medications that works to not only keep the pain from getting worse but also lessen it to some extent. That would be amazing.

7.) I'm hoping for a day in the future ... when the boys could spend the night away from home - some with their Aunt Trisha and Uncle John and some with their Grandma and Pa-Pa G - so that Rob and I can get away from home for a weekend. We haven't been away from home (hospital/NICU stays so do not count) since our first wedding anniversary, which was Thursday September 3, 2004 if your curious.

8.) I'm hoping for a day in the future ... when I am secure enough in myself as an artist and a woman that I can sit and loose myself in my art and not be weighed down by thoughts of "It's not good enough" or "It's not perfect" or "Crap! It's all crap"...you get the general idea. I want to just get lost in my art and not care what anyone thinks; including myself.

9.) I'm hoping for a day in the future ... when I don't need a therapist anymore. A day when I've put all the horrific pieces of the puzzle that is my life back together. The pieces I've carried with me for the past 20+ years. The pieces I've fought to hide out of shame for things I didn't do. The pieces I only see in nightmarish flashbacks when I sleep. Someday I'll have them all put together and I won't be haunted anymore.

10.) I'm hoping for a day in the future ... when Rob and I have managed to survive the Terrorist 3's. I'm also hoping for that same day in the future ... when all three boys have also managed to survive the Terrorist 3's. (Whoever dubbed them the "Terrible 3's" was clearly either on crack, had never raised a child of their own or had been blessed with one of those rare children that didn't become a Terrorist between the ages of 2 and 1/2 and oh say 9 - since Gavin is still a Terrorist at times and I don't know when it will wear off.)

11.) I'm hoping for a day in the future ... when we are able to set up a routine and get into a groove and the slightest little thing doesn't throw everything out of whack.

12.) I'm hoping for a day in the future ... when my boys will grow up to be men. They will be happy and healthy doing whatever it is that they chose in life. I don't care their preference in partner or job. I don't care where they live, although I'd like it to be somewhat close to where ever we are. I just want them happy and healthy - in all ways. (Since obviously #10 needs tohappen first in order for this one to take place. lol)

13.) I'm hoping for a day in the future ... when I'm spending far less time dreaming of the future and planning for it and a whole lot more time actually living in it.

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***Edited to say*** Okay, so I meant to finish this before it auto-posted at 8:00 pm on Thursday. Obviously, that didn't happen. lol Sorry about that. So now it is 9-ish am on Saturday - just a few days late - and I'm finishing it because the idea of a partially finished post on my blog is driving me crazy. lol

I Don't Wednesday #4: Regrets

I don't ... regret leaving my ex-husband. If I hadn't left, I wouldn't have met Rob. Rob wouldn't have led to his family and I honestly could not have asked/prayed/wished for better in-laws - parents or siblings. They are amazing. Rob also helped me to create two beautiful boys. So really, what more could I ask for there? Oh yeah, Rob is pretty great too. ;) lol

I don't ... regret looking for Mom (aka Mary) starting when I was 16 years old. I don't ... regret finding her when I was 20 years old even though it didn't turn out how I had hoped. I don't ... regret looking for Trisha on MySpace on a whim 3 years ago even though that didn't turn out how I had hoped either. Because it's all turning out how I had hoped in the end, which is how it should be.

I don't ... regret standing up for myself or my family when it was the right thing to do. Even when it wasn't the popular thing to do.

I don't ... regret wearing my heart on my sleeve even though most would say it's "weakness". At least people have always known where I was coming from and where I stood.

I don't ... regret getting married by the mayor of North Cheerioville rather than having a big wedding that we couldn't afford and would have needed loans to pay for. Besides now I get to take the next 3 years to plan my dream wedding and make sure I can make it as cheap as possible. :)

I don't ... regret starting my family before everything else. That was the path I chose for my life and I stand by that decision.

I don't ... understand some people. I don't ... understand how they can believe something so strongly one week and then when that clearly didn't work out well for them they change gears so completely. How does that work?

I don't ... understand how people claim to "know" what I am going to do next. And even though it hasn't happened, they still claim to "know" that it will. How do they know my mind better than I?

I don't ... understand when doing what is best for my family became the wrong thing to do. I knew that it wouldn't be the popular decision. I knew I would be making people unhappy. However, it was the same decision across the board for all. Yet, I was only judged by one. I don't ... understand.

I don't ... understand the new policy for "Health Care 'reform'". It just reads like a foreign language to me. Almost as if Obama doesn't want the American public to understand it.

I don't ... understand how Obama-Mamas trust most of what comes out of Obama's mouth. I'm aware this makes me unpopular in alot of crowds but it's how I feel.

I don't ... understand why all of my articles that I write lately keep coming out like high school term papers - overly-serious, pretensious crap.

I don't ... understand why the FDA keeps approving medications for fibromyalgia when they really doesn't work very well.

I don't ... understand why I'm so drawn to these "Lockdown", "Lockup" jail shows on National Geographic and MSNBC channels on television. Something about them simply fascinates me. I don't ... understand why.

Gavin's 7 Rules

I've got pretty awesome news but I don't want to share it yet because it's not quite final.

Emmett John is having his surgery to have his tubes placed on Thursday, Sept 10th.

I have to schedule to have an EMG on my lower body to try and determine why I'm having bi-lateral leg pain and numbness. Insurance wouldn't pay for the MRI but they'll pay for the torture. Jerks. Bright side, I can take 2 Xanax before the EMG, which will help since I'm beyond phobic when it comes to needles.

Gavin's first day of school is tomorrow. So we opted to stay home and lay low today. Nice and calm day.

I'm trying to get my new organizer all set up and filled in, which is taking much longer than it should because Mr. Emmett John keeps trying to help me. lol I figure once I get that done...His surgery (15 minutes) and recovery (about 12-24 hours at home) done...And my test done...I'll be back to my blogging self. Or maybe before that, who knows. ;) lol

Please pray that his surgery goes off without a hitch.

Ah the joys of the NICU. I left off with the breastpump, the liquid gold lifeline to Elliott Richard and my complete and utter lack of control. I was devasted. Plain and simple.

I had worked so hard and for so long to ensure that this very thing did not happen and look where he ended up?! In the stupid, flippin' NICU. It was unbelievable and completely inexcusable in my book. I truly didn't know what to do.

Once Elliott was in the NICU it became more and more apparent just how bad things really were. He had a pneumothorax (collapsed lung) on the left side from trying to breathe but not being able to. No sooner did they get his left side diagnosed and his ride side collapsed. He had IV's going every which way. As soon as they had one placed - in his foot or a hand or his head (it took ages for the bald spots to grow back) it would blow and they would have to place another one. He had heart monitors. Feeding tubes because they weren't feeding him orally yet. Then he was on a CPAP. Then a nasal canula. Then when they figured out he had two collapsed lungs and pneumonia; they intubated and sedated him.

For the first 4 or 5 days we couldn't even touch him. I would pump religiously every 2-3 hours; to the point where they had too much milk for him. Then I would walk it down to the NICU no matter what time of day it was. I would hand it to his nurse at the time. Then I would sit.

I would watch him monitors and learn the beeps, which ones were okay. Which ones were cause for concern. Which ones brought everyone running. I would sit. I would listen. I would watch him sleep. I couldn't hold him. I couldn't touch him. I couldn't do a single thing my instincts were screaming at me to do. And there were moments when I thought it would kill me.

They kept me in the hospital as long as possible. They were even able to move me to a larger room and get a second bed so that Rob could stay at the hospital with me. We had a huge black lab, Hermione, at the time and Rob would let her out at night. Sleep at the hospital and go to the NICU in the middle of the night with me. The get up and go home to take care of her first thing in the morning before coming back to be with Elliott Richard and I at the hospital again.

Gavin was staying with my parents. My mom would take him to school in the morning. Rob would pick him up from school in the afternoon and hang out with him until my mom got off work. Then she would meet him for the exchange and he would head right back to my side at the hospital.

Once I was discharged from the hospital they gave me a room for free to stay in while Elliott Richard was still in the NICU. At first, it was in the Post Partum Ward so it was right down the hall from the NICU. Then they moved me to the Peds Unit, which was on another floor and through what felt like a maze of hallways to reach. I hated that room. It hurt to walk to. It took forever. And the Peds Unit is a petri-dish of illness! Why would you put the mother of a preemie there?!?!?!? I was infuriated!

Over time, I felt this horrible weight. This guilt because I would talk to the other mothers. I would watch them celebrate as their babies made it to 3lb or 4lb or 5lb. Here I sat with my 7lb monster baby. In the end though, we really weren't all that different. None of us wanted to be there. We all wanted the same ending; to leave with our happy, healthy babies safely sleeping in our arms.

The days wore on. I know there was a point when Rob and I were cleared to enter the NICU and we walked back to find they performing a medical procedure on Elliott Richard. I was mortified.

At one point the doctors and nurses were explaining to us how serious things were. They couldn't get him breathing on his own. They couldn't seem to wean him off the vent. They didn't know what was wrong, exactly. They were trying everything but were running out of ideas and if they didn't come up with something soon they were going to ask our permission to send him to top notch Children's Hospital 2 hours away.

During this time we were also offered the "support of clergy", which in hindsight I understand. At the time though, it felt to me that they were giving up. It felt like everyone was saying, "Well, you better call a priest and have him baptized because he isn't going to make it out of here." That felt like giving up to me. I refused, rather rudely if I remember correctly. How dare they give up on my baby!

I remember Rob and I asking why they hadn't given him surfactant if it would help him to breathe on his own without the ventilator. They said it was too late, he was too old, it wouldn't help. Finally, after days of on again, off again with the ventilator they decided to give the surfactant a try. He was still intubated but they were working towards weaning him off it.

After the move to the Peds Unit room, Rob "made" me go home. I say "made" because I didn't want to go. I would have slept in a chair next to Elliott Richard's isolet if they would have let me. I was terrified to leave. Terrified they would call and tell us to hurry back and we would be too late. Terrified they would call and say we were already too late. Simply terrified to be here while he was there. I hated it. I hated Rob for a while too. Not a rational response, true. But allow me to remind you that I was 1-10 days post-partum during this time. Rational responses don't usually happen a whole lot during that time anyway.

That's when Elliott took matters into his own hands.

I was visiting him and stroking his hand because he was sedated while he was intubated so this was permitted. His nurse stopped by his isolet and said that she was on her way to grab his next dose of sedation because he was due for it. I just nodded and kept on watching him. Well, he woke up - wide awake - and extubated himself. Even though he was restrained, he just reached up and *pop* it was out and he was breathing on his own. I was dumbfounded and just sort of stood there with my mouth open attracting flies. ;) When the nurse came back I told her what he had done and she mirrored my expression and said, "Oh my." After she spoke with the Neonatologist, he said that they could leave him extubated and see how he did. He was never intubated again after that.

From that point on, things went that way for Elliott. He decided he was done with his IV and *pop*. This was not long after he extubated himself so went with the same idea of "Let's see how he does. Maybe he knows more about how he's doing than we do." Then went the feeding tube.

It was towards the end of his stay. All he really had left to do was gain weight and learn to nurse or take so many oz per feeding. Well since I wanted to nurse exclusively that made it kind of hard to do the whole "take so many oz per feeding". Rob wanted me to give him bottles of pumped milk just so we could get him out of the hospital sooner, which I understand now. But then it just pissed me off. If I was going to nurse exclusively once we got home didn't it make more sense to make sure he was going to get the hang of it now while we are at the hospital and are going to be aware if his weight drops or something?! I didn't want him to stay in the hospital but at the same time I didn't want to give him bottles to get him home to start nurse exclusively and have everything come undone. It was the topic of a great many debates and battles between Rob and I during those last few days. In the end, he was nursing well. He didn't want the bottle once he figured out the nursing. And he was gaining small amounts of weight so they let us go home anyway. :)

All told Elliott Richard spent 10 days in the NICU. Those were some of the longest 10 days of my life.

(You're supposed to sing the title to the tune of "The 12 Days of Christmas".)

3 Sick Boys

Yes, you read that correctly all three of my boys are sick, again. Isn't that always how it seems to go in the Cheerio household though? I'm not sure if it's better this way or not. I guess it is. I know it would definitely be much easier without the #1 down there. But I digress.

Elliott Richard

Elliott Richard was first. For all the "gory details" see this post here. He will finish up his antibiotics tomorrow. Yippee! Because even though he's on the "bubble gum" meds that most kids love he's 3 and a terrorist and therefore he enjoys being difficult.

Things were just starting to return to "normal" (not a term that usually applies to our household). Meaning that Elliott Richard was sleeping in his bed rather than on the couch in the living room with Daddy. He was sleeping through the night again. Wasn't super whiney or clingy. He was himself again. He seems to be doing much better. Although he's developing a cough, but I'll get to that in a moment.

So things were starting to look up...and then...

Emmett John

Emmett John, never one to be out-done in anything, was next. Friday afternoon he spiked a fever. By Friday night, his fever was 102.8. By Saturday morning it was 103.2 so off to see Dr. Beth we went. No ear infection or strep. It was just a virus. She said to let it run it's coarse and by Monday the fever should be gone. If Monday morning the fever was still there or his cold symptom had returned, I was to bring him back in.

So we suffered the weekend. No one slept. Emmett John screamed a lot. I considered clawing my eyes out and super-gluing my ears shut. But decided against it in the end. We all survived (I use that term loosely).

Monday morning, always the over-achiever, Emmett John still had his fever and his cold symptoms had returned with avengance so off we went to see Dr. M. But really, let's be honest here, what's a week in the Cheerio household without a visit (or two or three - keep reading) to the pediatricians' office? He checked out our young bebe and thought for sure he had strep throat so he did the swabs - rapid and 48hr. Both ended up coming back negative.

So now he's just a super-clingy grump. He doesn't really want to eat. But he downs water and juice like they are going out of style. He's exhausted but won't sleep. Wants to snuggle but doesn't want held. My fellow mommies out there know this drill well. *sigh*

Gavin

Then of course, Gavin had to jump on the bandwagon. Although truthfully, it's not like he had much of a choice, with two sick little brothers the odds were stacked against him in a major way. So a week or so ago Gavin developed a cough. As the week went on the cough got worse. The problem that Patty brought to our attention at our appointment on Tuesday was timing. The cough started about the same time that Dr. R increased Gavin's dose of Zyprexa. Patty was worried that the Zyprexa was possibly that Gavin is over-medicated and it's causing decreased respiratory function. Of course, I mean what else would you expect from a Cheerio Child?!

So I called and made an appointment with Dr. M. The appointment was actually going to work three ways. Here's what they are and why:

a.) If Gavin is over-medicated, the dose will be changed.

b.) If Gavin is sick, hopefully it's something that will be fixed with anti-biotics.

c.) Everytime Gavin gets a tickle in his throat he proclaims that he has asthma, which he does not.

So I was hoping to find answers to all three of those when we met with Dr. M. Although truth be told, Dr. H has already told Gavin on numerous occasions that he does not have asthma. Heck, even his original pediatrician Dr. Mike told him he didn't have asthma. But he's still convinced that he does.

So we went. We saw. We talked. Some of us more than others. Dr. M asked Gavin a bunch of questions to rule out asthma, which he was able to do, again. Then as Dr. M and I were talking about the cough - when it came on, the meds he's taking etc - Gavin kept jumping in with random Aspie statements. "I like pancakes." Things that given the given the context of the conversation really didn't make much sense. Gotta love those Aspies. :)

Dr. M checked him out and let us know that:

a.) He is not over-medicated. Huge relief there.

b.) He is sick.

c.) He also does not have asthma, although I don't know that this will put an end to the debate.

Apparently, Gavin has some funky form of bronchitis. The normal anti-biotics won't work on it because of the cell walls or something. And the anti-biotic they would normally prescribe is Zythromax or something in that family but Gavin is allergic to those. Even if he weren't he can't take them because they increase the levels of the Zyprexa in his blood stream. So he's on an anti-biotic I've never heard of before, which after three boys (especially Emmett John) I didn't think that was possible. lol And I have to take him back on Monday so that Dr. M can listen to his lungs and make sure that he's improving etc.

Back to Emmett John

Now we get to go back to the pediatrician today. In the last 24hrs Emmett John has developed a rash that started on his back so I thought it was heat rash. Then it began to creep. It creeped to his sides, stomach and now it's creeping down both arms and legs. So I called and talked to Paula, one of the lovely nurses, and she talked to Dr. M. He said that he felt Emmett John should be seen because of Gavin and Elliott Richard both being sick. So at 4:15pm we will be back at the pediatrician's office. This time we get to see Dr. H though. Yippee! So we'll see what that brings us. Oy vay.

2 Ped Appointments

Yeah, it was 2 ped appts if you only counted Emmett John with Dr. M on Monday and Gavin with Dr. M yesterday. However, if you count Emmett John with Dr. Beth on Saturday and now Emmett John today. The grand total is now 4 ped appts but that doesn't work with my title at all. ;) lol

1 Fibromyalgia Flare

Yeah, that would be me. Of course, who else would it be. I love living in Ohio. Really, I do. Lately though, this weather, it's killing me. The ups and the downs - the weather is just crazy and it's downright killing me. I've been flaring off and on for nearly 2 weeks now. But that's another post entirely, believe me.

A Baby on the Way

Okay, so he's not so much "on the way" anymore because I started this post 5 days ago and let's face it, that's kind of a long time for active labor! (Ouch!) On Thursday, August 6th my cousin Sam went into labor with her second child, first boy. If you would like to see his stats and a picture of him head on over to her blog. Try and prepare yourself though ~ seriously.

Welcome to the World and to the Family, Mr. Evander Benjamin!

You know, kind of like "The Lion, The Witch & The Wardrobe" only not. In my story there isn't any fun or adventure. No one makes any new friends. Or triumphs over evil.

In my story, the dryer puts out heat but doesn't tumble. The washer washes. The dryer doesn't dry. And we are running out of clothes. We don't have the money for the laundromat. My sister has graciously offered the use of her dryer, as has Grandma G but that's only going to work for so long. I'm mechanically challenged, meaning I can't fixing things to save my own life so I can't fix it. Rob's thrown his back out and is going to try and fix it but I don't know how that's going to work.

Mr. Emmett John has an appointment with Dr. H tomorrow morning at 10:15am to get his ear infection rechecked. I've been giving him his Augmentin twice a day, on a full stomach just like Dr. M said. For the first few days he was getting better. His mood was improving. He was sleeping better. He was our happy, independent little guy again. Then some where around Saturday morning (happy birthday to me, right?) he started pulling, smacked and poking at his right ear again. His mood took another nose dive and he became really clingy again. Now I could be wrong here, and I honestly hope that I am, but I have a sneaking suspicion that the ear infection had started to clear up and is now back. :( I really hope that I'm wrong. But I honestly won't be at all surprised if I'm right.

Then there are "The Terrorists". I have 3 of them now. Yes, you read that correctly, Mr. Emmett John has joined the ranks of the Terrorists. It's a sad day in the Cheerio Household. I'm not out-numbered 3-to-1. And they are taking full advantage of it! True, they can't, and don't, work together (what terrorists do though?) but that doesn't make them any less terrifying. Or any less of a handful. Or any...less...exhausting.

In fact, it almost makes them worse because at any given moment I've got Elliott Richard over here jumping on the couch, which he knows he shouldn't be. Then I've got Gavin over there throwing toys, again something that he knows he shouldn't be doing. And finally I've got the trifecta with #3, Mr. Emmett John off in the corner trying desperately to pull his diaper off for God only knows what reason a 1 year has for wanting his diaper off. No is listening because they all claim I was talking to "that one over there". I'm pulling my hair out by the roots, or at least seriously considering it. The Terrorists are all grinning from ear-to-ear and couldn't possiblly be any happier. And so it goes. Afterall, who am I, a mere mortal of a mother, to deny them these silly, crazy life experiences?

Sorry I've been MIA again. It's been a crazy month for a few different reasons. I'll go into some of it when I'm ready, but not now. For now I'd like to focus on Mr. Emmett John. He's turned 1! (I have pictures and video that I will be sure to post - as soon as I find them.) And he's been sick. You're surprised, I know. But this is crazy even by Emmett John standards.

About a month or so ago, I took him in to see Dr. M because Emmett John had been super fussy and grumpy. Totally inconsolible. Picking at his food. He didn't want to drink. Wouldn't sleep. Completely not himself. He didn't have a fever or anything. But there was clearly something off. So away to see the pediatrician we went...completely expecting to find nothing.

Wrong!

Turns out that Emmett John had a horrible, bright red ear infection in his left ear. He just happens to be one of those kids who doesn't have any signs of an infection (fever etc). So Dr. M gave us a prescription for the pink "bubblegum" medicine (that I can't remember the name right now). He took that for 10 days. About 4 days after he finished that he was still Super Grump. So I called them back. (This was last Wednesday.) Guess what happened then?

Yup. Away we went to see Dr. M again. He checks. Again expecting to find nothing but an over-protective mommy. Wrong again. Now he's got a nasty, bright red ear infection in his right ear. Again, he didn't have a fever. He was just a grump who wasn't sleeping, eating, drinking etc. So we left that appointment with a prescription for Omnicef. Believing that it would clear up the infection and when we returned today all would be right with the world.

Wrong again!

We saw Dr. M again this morning bright and early at 8:45am. I was hoping against hope that he would find no more infection. Even though I knew that his behavior was indicative of his ear infection still hanging around. I was right. Dr. M checked and his right ear is still bright red and inflamed. Now Mr. Emmett John is on Augmentin, which is the last and strongest medication they are willing to try. If this doesn't work, when we see Dr. KR on July 29th for his continued hoarseness we will also discuss having tubes placed in his ears. :(

We go see Dr. H next Wednesday to see if the Augmentin has worked. We would see Dr. M again except he will be on vacation, lucky guy. So while it's a small thing, in the great big scheme of things, if you could pray that his ear infection clears up in the next week. I would really appreciate it.

Some say that 1 year old children shouldn't have chocolate. And as a general rule, I don't give it to him because of his various food sensitivities. However, I gave it just once.

Emmett John trying desperately to shove his entire face into the pudding cup.

Perhaps if he tries from a different angle...