Sickie- Part two

Molli shared her cooties with me so I suggested Myles take our car to work since his truck was outside, covered in snow.  I had big plans to stay in, nurse Molli and myself back to health, catch up on laundry and unpack all the junk I had so meticulously packed away just a couple days before.  None of this happened.  Instead, we threw blankets on the floor and sprawled out on them while neglecting “Finding Nemo.” 

She crashed on the floor on the "blanket bed"

It did not take long to realize that I was not going to get anything done and it was a day of survival, not productivity.  We survived, but it was rough.  Molli was obviously not well, and was getting worse quickly.  The poor girl has been treated for pneumonia 4 times since last March and I’m learning the signs quite well.  After two breathing treatments and a conversation with a triage nurse, I called Myles to come home.  She was breathing fast and retracting, despite the breathing treatments. 

crashed again in the dining room, waiting to go to the hospital

We got to the hospital and went directly to the respiratory unit, to avoid the ER fees. Thankfully our favorite respiratory therapist, Kevin, was there and Molli’s doctor was the pediatrician on call.  All things worked out perfectly and Dr. Iagulli, who obviously knows Molli by now, got her admitted directly without having to be seen. 

No one wants to be in the hospital.  Duh.  Hospitals are unpleasantly cold and you can smell the battle between disinfectants and germs everywhere.  They are also creepy.  Honestly though, I commend everyone who helped treat my precious daughter.  They were so compassionate and tried hard to make it as positive an experience as possible for Molli.  They put “The Little Mermaid” sheets and comforter on the bed, started her off with a coloring book and a small stack of stickers and brought in little toys for her throughout the visit.  Everyone got a little silly with her to make her laugh and honestly, I think she even enjoyed the experience.  Even when she was discharged she spotted her respiratory therapist, Kevin, or “Mr. Heaven,” and took off running down the hall to him.  He was great with her!

Pretty Ariel bed!

They brought her these sunglasses, along with several other little goodies.

Janel and Ryan Elliot came to visit... Absolutely made her day!

She fell asleep snuggling with Daddy in his bed, watching "Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs" for the millionth time that weekend.

After monitoring her for the day and night, an x-ray and drawing labs it was concluded that she had a viral infection in her lungs and it was asthma causing the bulk of her problems.  The plus side is that we got to avoid another round of antibiotics, the down side is that she has asthma. The other plus side is that she was treated very effectively with Prednisolone.  However, the downside is that Prednisolone temporarily hijacked my girl! Insomnia stole her night, then lethargy took over in the morning, followed by a week of insanity.

She started out VERY lethargic.  Sloooow moving, super tired

This was before all hell broke loose.  She was exhausted from staying up most of the night and walked out from her room, sat on the floor like a zombie then ended up asleep right here.

Eventually I moved her to the couch, gave her some "strawberry milk," aka Pediasure, and she zonked again while I made her oatmeal.

This is her "playing." The poor thing had nothing left in her.

I have never seen such dramatic changes in personality.  The child hardly slept and was moody like I’ve never seen her before.  I’m not talking about a little fit here and there, I’m talking a full on meltdown over next to nothing.  She would be playing just fine when suddenly she would become explosively angry. This was constant.  Do you know how hard it is to figure out the balance of discipline in this situation? Is she out of control because she’s sick? Because she’s Molli? Because she’s two? Because of the meds? Time-outs couldn’t contain her safely, her bed couldn’t contain her safely and after being hit and bitten and eventually I couldn’t even contain (restrain) her safely.  I had to strap her into her car seat and call the doctor.  It was seriously scary.  Her doctor confirmed that this behavior was directly a side effect of the medication (mood changes, unusual behavior and insomnia) We cut the dose in half and it helped but you better believe I was counting down the days to throw that stuff away! 

She is now back to her normal, silly self and we are desperately awaiting spring.  We need some good weather so we can spend more time outside and hopefully avoid getting sick for a good long time.  This poor girl has been such an amazing sport in this maze of colds, pneumonia, asthma and the like. I think it’s safe to say she deserves a break, and summer will be perfect for it.  So come on spring, deliver your refreshing and rejuvenating promises.  We are ready.

Sickie- Part one

You knew it was coming, the blog that unwraps the ugly and ridiculous details of our life.  Let’s start at the beginning, before everything really hit the fan. 

Last Monday, Myles abandoned left us to go to a training in Anchorage.  I’m a supportive wife and proud of his accomplishments so I was all for it.  Then it dawned me that I’d be doing the parenting thing all by my lonesome for the whole week.  Do you know how hard it is to bathe a sometimes moody toddler and a 7 month old at the same time, alone?  Forget soap and shampoo, if they end up wet and don’t crack their heads open on the tile, it’s a moderately successful bath.  We decided to take advantage of the opportunity and join Daddy for a couple nights.  We’d meet up with some friends, do some shopping and hit the children’s museum.  Perfect, right? Of course not.

Once the kids were in bed on Wednesday, I made lists, packed a ton of stuff, made sure to remember things like bathing suits, food, extra everything for the kids and Motrin, just in case.  I loaded up the Land Cruiser and proceeded on my way to a night of anxiety laced dreams of driving off the side of mountains, oncoming traffic coming into my lane, spinning out of control on icy roads, you know, the usual stuff in my mind.

Thursday morning Molli woke up, sniffed and said, “I’m sick.” I didn’t think much of it because she always assumes she’s sick if her nose is stuffy. The chorus of snoring vibrating through the back seat validated that both kids did, in fact, have stuffy noses.  I said a little prayer that whatever kind of sick was going on would stop there.  We’ve had enough of that around here, and certainly didn’t need more, especially considering I couldn’t find Molli’s inhaler before we left the house. 

We made it to the hotel and found that the pool was closed.  Fine, just one less bag to bring in. I did my best pack mule impression and hauled both kids and all our crap in just one impressive load.  I looked like a cross between a 31 bags advertisement and a “what not to do” on a chiropractic pamphlet.  The hotel room was a very standard one room, two queen beds sort of deal, with a little kitchenette area. I dumped everything just far enough in that the door would close and got right to settling in.  First things first, set up the pack-n-play.  He may be my second child, but I wasn’t about to let Gavin crawl around on that carpet. We got all moved in, made plans with friends for 9:30 the next morning and greeted Daddy with big hugs when he knocked on the door.  Hallelujah! The week solo is about to get easier!

Nope.

Fast forward a few hours and you have the perfect storm for a super crummy night.  I’ll spare the details, but it went pretty much like this.  Bath/bedtime stuff, Gavin sleeping in the pack-n-play, Molli in bed 2, Myles and I in bed 1.  Molli cries out because she can’t breathe.  Gavin wakes up.  I suck the snot from Molli’s nose.  She lies back down while Myles rubs her back and I nurse Gavin to sleep.  Molli cries about being sick, wakes Gavin up, she agrees to sleep in the pack-n-play after a snot sucking fight.  Myles in bed 2, I nurse Gavin back to sleep in bed 1.  Molli cries etc.  This scenario repeats itself, rotating sleeping arrangements, from 7:45pm until 3:15am when I’ve had enough.  I’m still sending out apologetic vibes to everyone on the first or second floor at the Extended Stay.  I head out in search of medicine while Molli watches Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs. (It was an uncomfortable experience and in hindsight, I should have persuaded Myles to go.  I had no business going out in a town I don’t know. It was snowy, slick and all the freaks and drunks were out. My bad).  Benadryl and baby vapor rub did the trick well enough...phew!

After two and a half hours of sleep everyone was up at 7 (WHY???).  We canceled plans to meet up with friends and nixed our hopes and dreams for the weekend.  We drove home after lunch and, thankfully, the kids slept nearly the entire way. I don’t know how I was still functioning, but I do know that I was given the opportunity to spend ample time with the kids throughout the next night too. Molli was, in fact, quite sick.  Unfortunately, she wasn’t the only one.

Stay tuned for the rest of the saga. 

Naptime

Naptime.  I always have these beautiful ideas of what it will look like, especially when it’s snowy and peaceful outside.  I imagine that I will lay my angels in their respective sleeping places, all cozy and yawning.  They will curl up on their side and yawn as I walk out of the room.  Gavin will sigh and Molli will mutter the words most precious to my heart, “I love you, Mommy.” I will admire their stillness and reflect on the love I have for my family as I complete a quiet chore or two.  Each piece of laundry I fold will be done with intention and memory of when it last adorned my child and what we did that day.  I will sweep the crumbs leftover from lunch and reflect on our blessings.  Afterwards I will prepare dinner and sit down for a cup of tea and read until the kids call for me.

I’m not sure that exact scenario has ever actually taken place.  Each of those things has occurred individually but rarely more than one per naptime.  More realistically, by the time I get one child to bed, the other is screaming, for one reason or another.  My big plans to clean the house and prepare dinner are a joke and in the end my tea is cold and my kindle is dead. I hastily clean up from lunch, switch the laundry and work to break my PR at speed folding, as though I’m training for the mom-Olympics.  One kid gives in and sleeps, the other decides it’s tantrum time and wakes the sleeper.  Are you kidding?! This time is spent undoing messes that continue unraveling.

Today, however, after some fights all around, both kids gave in at the same time and are sleeping.  The video monitors prove what I would otherwise doubt.  It’s beautiful. They are sleeping and I am not crossing a single thing off my list.  I don’t care about mopping, scrubbing toilets, or showering.  Today, I am sitting by a window with my tea still hot and I’m enjoying the quiet, the peacefulness of sleeping kids and admiring the soft snow outside.  

Monkey Drama

I don't know if I found favor with God, got lucky or if the stars aligned, whatever it was, I do know is that the timing of Gavin's morning nap and Molli's morning snack had a direct, positive correlation on both my personal hygiene and my alone time (both of which are a rare treat, as noted in my previous post). I jumped on the opportunity to shower alone by putting molli in her high chair with a couple of graham crackers and put Curious George on my laptop for her. We were both pleased with this set up because of my desire for a solo shower and her excitement to watch a show.  Molli is one of those deprived children who rarely gets to watch movies or tv shows. We have never paid for telivision so if we watch something, it is more intentional than just pushing a button to turn the tv on.  Anyway, this morning I was reminded to record a little bit of who my daughter is right now.  

Like I said, she doesn't have a whole lot of screen time, but when she does, she gets really into it. If you've ever met Molli, you know that she is a very interactive child.  She doesn't just sit back and watch anything, she gets involved, and does so enthusiastically. As I was finishing up my shower, 7 minutes of pure mommy bliss, I heard a shout from the other room. I put on my robe and glasses and hurried out to help, only to find that the problem was that George had made a mess, or something.   Molli had abandoned her snack and was utterly engrossed in the happenings of this monkey.  I stood out of sight and observed her as threads of wild exclamations poured from her mouth. She clapped and held her hands out in distress at all the appropriate times (according to her theatrical commentary). 

"Please, George! Clean it up, right now! Oh no, you made a big huge mess, that's not good!"

"Where is her mommy?! I need her mommy to PLEASE come and pick her up!"

"Oh no! You better get down off there, right now, George!"

"Oh please don't, you will get in trouble"

"Yay! You did it! Good job George!"

In the recent past I've observed her flip out at the rain storm in the little mermaid and yell at Mr. Noodle to get off the floating mailbox because it's too dangerous and he might fall down.  The most intense moment of all was during this pitiful scenario:

A couple weeks ago we were watching the movie "The Lorax" and she had a comical interaction with one particular scene.  The forest animals were upset that their trees were at risk of being chopped and they pulled the sleeping perpetrator out of the house on his bed and set him afloat down the river.  This was initially displeasing to molli because beds do not belong in the water. She was at about a 4  on her emotional scale.  Then some rapids came and he was still sleeping, escalating her to a 5 or 6.  At some point during the rapids the pillow went overboard,  sending molli through the roof! In tears she stood shouting at the tv, crying that that his jammies are wet, he NEEDS his pillow and various versions of "oh no, you need to go back inside your house. You can't be in the water!"  Occasionally she would look to Myles or me, for help, I suppose, but he and I were torn.  We wanted so badly to laugh at her utter hysteria, and simultaneously snuggle her. The poor girl was distraught over the whole thing and we just watched it happen.  Eventually she climbed up onto the couch with her dad and was fine, but man, what a dramatic little thing! 

I am so entertained by the new, sometimes ridiculous, developments of my little monkeys and I hope you are too!

Showering alone, life's simplest pleasure.

Myles has the day off today, for which I am incredibly grateful.  The man works hard and pours himself into the various happenings of his life.  It’s one of his most attractive characteristics, but from an outside perspective, it’s also a quite time consuming way of life.  So to have him here today has been so refreshing. 

Having him here means that I can enjoy some of life’s simple pleasures again.  These pleasures, mind you, are not ones that I have always considered anything of significance.  It’s almost pathetic, but there is no shame. 

I had the pleasure of taking a shower, alone, with no audience.  It was glorious.  I’m not kidding, I even locked the door and steamed up the whole bathroom.  This is a very rare occurrence in my life.  Typically, Molli begs to join me and it’s a real treat for her when I oblige.  When she’s not IN the shower with me she sets up shop right outside the shower.  She gathers all her favorite toys and hauls them in. One by one, she brings the basket of guys and all their stuff, the dollhouse, the airplane, the fire truck and the bus. Once the bathroom is full and everything is in place, she promptly ignores everything she dragged in, sets her stool on the bathmat and sits, watching me. 

This wouldn’t be so bad if it weren’t for my other offspring.  I strap him into a bouncy chair and place it right next to the mirrored closet doors.  He can entertain himself this way.  I’ve stopped cleaning the mirror because his spot is continually contaminated by splashes of flung slobber, well aimed raspberries and fingerprints.  He can pretty well mind his own business, and keep happy for the short time I spend in the shower.  However, Molli, the little darling, can’t seem to leave her brother alone.  She means well, offering him toys of cotton balls, q-tips and other bathroom paraphernalia she deems appropriate for a 6 month old. She has a definite tendency to be a little in his face. So much so, that she has been caught, on more than one occasion, trying to sit in the already straining bouncy seat with Gavin. 

Personal hygiene is important, but certainly made into a challenge with an audience that simultaneously needs entertained and protected. Add the basic complications of trying to maintain peace in this situation and add to it my nearsightedness.  My 20/400 something vision leaves substantial gaps for my imagination to fill when I’m squinting at the boy I have to protect and the girl from whom he needs protected.  Is she kissing his head, or licking his hair to see the fun pattern it makes? Is she laying on him, or looking for a toy that has fallen beside him? Is she checking out his new teeth, or trying to fish something out of his mouth that he wasn’t supposed to have?

A carefree shower is worth a celebration.  They are few and far between, but major thanks to my dear husband for allowing me this simple, much appreciated, pleasure this morning.  

Loving my babies

In light of the tragedy this morning, I am closing the day with my children held a little closer to my heart.  Our bedtime hugs were a little tighter, and our kiss a bit more meaningful.  I held on to their gaze for an extra second each time they looked to me today and I allowed the blessing of their presence to be recognized.  Each moment has only one chance in history, and it deserves to be intentional.

Gavin, my chunker, it has been so incredible to observe your personality unfold, little by little.  You are such a joy.  When you smile, your whole face smiles and your body stiffens when you’re really excited.  Your mouth opens wide, bragging your shiny pink gums.  You’re discovering your voice and using it with pride.  Your squeals attract everyone in earshot and are a delight.  You’ve mastered rolling over so you flip flop back and forth constantly.  The other day we were at Grammy and Papa’s house and you rolled halfway across the living room to get to the Christmas tree.  You enjoyed yourself under it, batting at the low branches and ornaments.  Sleep is not your strong point, but I guess part of this is my fault.  I am still figuring out where I stand on sleep training so you’ve been with Mommy and Daddy at night.  I’m tired 99% of the time, but do adore watching your sweet, sleeping body at night.  The pouty lips that adorn your face melts me, almost as much as your coos of affection. You are such a chunky little guy, I’ve seriously never seen legs like yours!  I can’t believe how different you are from your sister, who is your biggest fan.

Miss Molli… where to even begin?  You’re a crazy little spitfire, loving life right now.  It’s Christmas time so we’ve been setting your foundation for holiday celebrating.  You’re very into Ella, your Elf on the Shelf, the song “Santa Claus is Coming to Town,” your “guys” (fisher price little people), coloring, Christmas decorations (especially lights), snacks and blankets.  Your favorite color is orange, favorite food is probably granola bars, and you love copying people (for better or for worse).  You still adore bath time and now you get very excite when Gavin gets to join you.  You’ve been introduced to the big girl bed, but still enjoy your crib.  Lately you constantly say “let’s talk about a story” and force us to tell stories all day long.  It’s not my favorite activity, but it has provided opportunities to tell about why we celebrate Christmas, and since you NEVER forget anything, it’s been awesome to hear your rendition of Jesus’ birth story.  Carson is your best friend and I think you are in denial that he is moving soon (I might be too). The alphabet is coming along, although you typically end up spouting off any letters or numbers you can remember.  You usually know to say the letters of your name, but you said your letters out loud as I wrote it once, “M, O, L, L, llittle L, polka-dot.” You have more personality than I’ve ever seen in a child.  There truly is never a dull moment when you’re around.  Two year old you has been stretching my patience as well as my emotional and physical endurance.  The brunt of potty training is under our belt, thank goodness.  I’m positive this list could go on and on.

I am blessed to have you both and I promise that I will do my best to love, protect and guide you through life.  I can’t control what happens in this world, and that terrifies me.  As your mommy, I want to keep you safe in my arms and never let anything happen to you.  I also want you to live and have fantastic experiences.  I hope the balance finds us. 

I am deeply sorry for the families involved in the shooting in Connecticut this morning.  My heart aches as I try to fathom such loss and incredible grief.  While my grief does not change anything for these people, it ignites a passion inside of me to absorb the memories with my precious babies and hold them securely.  I know better than to take them for granted, but days like this fill my eyes with tears for those hurting and for the fullness I have.  Eighteen families sent their kindergarteners, their babies, off to school this morning and do not have them tuck in tonight. My heart breaks…

A better perspective

After a particularly tough morning in the Sansotta house Molli gave me a reality check.  We’ve been going through a rough patch with Gavin’s sleeping and Molli’s eating (rather, the lack of both).  Unfortunately, I still haven’t developed any magical abilities to know what my kids want or need at any given moment and I fail regularly at this parenting thing. 

On this day, all eyes were open at 5:45, which made for a rough start around here.  Gavin didn’t care because his eyes are open and his lungs are getting exercised about 12 times a night lately.  Molli certainly didn’t care because as far as she’s concerned, if she’s out of her crib, it’s go-time. I’m the only one who cared because I’m the only one who has to maintain a positive attitude and take care of everything and everyone.  And to be perfectly honest, the amount of decent sleep I get directly correlates to my attitude and perspective on life.  Today’s perspective started out poorly.

Poor indeed.

The poorness was reflected in Molli taking one bite of a strawberry and zero bites of her pancake at breakfast, followed by zero bites of her macaroni, peppers or carrots at lunchtime.  Naps were fights and my tude was no better than Molli’s. We both put up a good fight about lunch, which woke Gavin up and I deemed it Molli’s naptime too.  As we were walking to her room she simply told me, “I need Mommy.”  (Insert bad-mommy guilt here.) I felt terrible for being impatient with her so we left Gavin crying for sleep in the pack-n-play and I snuggled with her on the bed in her room for a minute.  She looked at me and spoke wisdom to my heart as she folded her hands and suggested, “Lets do this.”

My child, my two-year-old little girl, reminded me that we needed to pray; that God cares.  What a simple, yet profound suggestion.  So we did.  I thanked God for my kids and asked him to help them feel better, and for patience then told Molli it was her turn.  She said, “Dear my God, Thank you for Molli’s mommy, thank you Molli’s daddy and my baby Gavin, my chunker.  We will have a good day and good naps. Please. Amen.”  (I had to immediately write it down, it’s her first real prayer!)

My heart melted and my poor attitude dissolved in the sweetness of the moment. I am proud of her for remembering to ask God for help and am happy to report that both children are peacefully sleeping in their respective sleeping quarters.  While I love the noise of a lively house, the calm is so appreciated and I am basking in it today.  Gavin’s slow, steady breaths are more than enough to fill my ears and I’m thankful for the moment to sit down and reflect on things more important than clean sheets and uneaten macaroni still on the table.