Epic Strawberry Jam

“Free strawberries!” the blog of a friend did insist,

“Take all that you want, please, they will not be missed!”

Cheapskate that I am, I thought, “This’ll be great!”

So I called, we decided Thursday’d be the date.

Thursday dawned humid and hot (so you know)

And I showed up with both of my kiddos in tow.

Boots, stockings, and jeans was the dress code to pick,

So as hopefully not to acquire a tick.

I started the picking of strawberries sweet,

But my babe wanted nothing to do with the heat.

She fussed and she cried ‘til I finally relented,

And left with fewer strawberries than I had intended.

“Oh well,” thought I, “such is life with a baby!”

“Now what should I make? Hmm, Jam?” I thought, maybe.

I thought I would can it, “How hard could that be?”

“Well,” mused my husband, “I guess we shall see.”

The recipe I found was read and re-read,

‘Til the process of canning was stuck in my head.

I started the process prepared, no doubt,

With all of my stuff on the counters laid out.

The boiling began, and the burning did too,

Of my arms and my legs as the mixture did spew.

Strawberry fire flew everywhere.

Believe me, it even got stuck in my hair!

And just when I thought that the mess couldn’t worsen,

Seven cups of sugar through wax paper went burstin’

All over the counter, stove, me, and the floor.

At this point I should have just run out the door!

But run I did not, I re-measured the sugar,

“I will not be conquered by this stinking booger!”

I added the sugar and thank God it did not

Send any more mixture from out of the pot.

As I ladled the jam in the jars (it was STICKY!)

I noticed my feet and my floor were quite icky.

But canning’s not something you stop in the middle

So I walked through the sugar (just maybe a little…)

Using mom-in-law’s pot with a pasta insert,

I put in my jam jars, ever alert.

I added more water, it was just right I thought,

One small prob, it was gushing right out of the pot.

So I reached for the biggest stock pot that I own,

"Screw the rack that the jars are supposed to sit on!"

“Move the jars, switch the water,” I quickly reflected.

Then I poured and one lid all the water deflected.

All over the counter, stove, me, and the floor

Went the water, now mixed with the mess from before.

"Just keep going," I thought, finish up the process

And then you can clean up this huge, epic mess.

The jars started boiling just as I had planned.

In five minutes, I had all the stinkin’ stuff canned.

Surprisingly, all of the jars did seal,

Six half-pints of jam – one HECK of a DEAL!

Ruby's Birth Story the final installment!

My pregnancy with Ruby was VERY normal. No spotting, LOTS of throwing up. I will be honest with you, I smiled each time after I threw up because I knew that that meant my hormone levels were where they should be. We had weekly sonos starting around 30 weeks just to make sure that everything was as it should be (in part b/c of Ira's pre-term birth, but also because of the miscarriages.)

After my little sis gave birth naturally in November, we borrowed their copy of "Husband Coached Childbirth" by Susan McCutcheon. It taught the Bradley Method of Childbirth. I absolutely devoured the book and could NOT stop talking about it with Andy. It took him a little longer to read it (but given that I read it in one day, that's understandable! :-P) but once he finished it he too was astounded and convinced that it was an EXCELLENT method for childbirth. We talked about natural birth ALL THE TIME with each other. We practiced the exercises fairly regularly and were determined to wait for baby to come on his/her own. Dr. Ferris was TOTALLY on board (he's who recommended the book to my sis in the first place.)

On Ash Wednesday, a terrible injustice was done when the OB board at the local hospitals finally got their way with Dr. Ferris. Being that he was "just" a Family Practitioner. and Being that he had a huge practice (that was continually growing) and Being that the economy was headed where it was... greed got the better of many of the local OBs and they complained to the hospital board. Dr. Ferris was told that Family Practitioners were all well and good for delivering babies in rural areas, but that he was not welcome to deliver babies at the Wichita hospitals anymore. Let me tell you, there is a LOT of corruption at our hospitals and I am ASHAMED even more that Via Christi, a CATHOLIC hospital, did NOTHING to come to Dr. Ferris' aid. The story is longer and deeper than that, but you get the gist of it. The tribunal against him was a SHAM. When I talked to Dr. Ferris about it, he humbly said, "I am just so thankful that I got to deliver babies for as long as I did. I guess this is my Lenten cross to bear." Wow.

Dr. Montoya was who was delivering Dr. Ferris' babies, and we were assured that she was just as focused on Natural Childbirth as Dr. Ferris was, so we were okay with the late change in the ballgame.

Finally- the long anticipated birth story of Ruby can begin!

At 2:40 am on March 5th, I woke up and needed to go to the bathroom. Before I could sit up, a gush of warm fluid came out. Not sure if I had just wet the bed or if my water had broken, I sat up in bed and felt another gush. My water had broken!!! I woke Andy and then called my parents. My dad answered the phone. "Dad? (he sounded like my brother when he answered, so I wasn't sure) I think my water just broke... wait, no, I KNOW my water just broke. I'm in LABOR!!!" We made plans for them to come out and pick Ira up, so that we could finish packing. Ira woke up shortly after we turned our light on. (Even though he was in his own room, I guess the bustle woke him.) He was full of questions, so I explained to him that my water had broken just like in "Angel in the Waters" and that we were going to have our baby. He was excited and alert and talked a lot while I straightened my hair and finished packing. I wasn't too concerned about getting to the hospital immediately, my contractions were strong, but not too strong. Shortly before my parents arrived, I had a little bit of bloody show. I knew that that was normal, but it scared me just enough to want to get to the hospital to make sure that everything was alright with baby. We took a quick picture when my parents arrived and headed to the hospital. The whole drive there, Andy and I talked and talked about natural childbirth. About how we wanted labor and delivery to go. (Seriously, it was like a pep talk before a big game!)

The contractions had slowed down a LOT by the time we got to the hospital, which is normal because of the hormones you release when you're nervous/excited. We got to the hospital and they checked me and I was dilated to 2. The doctor that checked me there said I had 12 hours from when my water broke to have the baby. I fudged and told him my water broke around 3 (I wanted to give myself every minute I could get legitimately) We also told him, we actually have more like 24 hours from the time my water breaks to give birth. It made him uncomfortable, but he didn't deny it. We were told that Dr. Montoya was actually off that day, and that Dr. Bledsoe was covering for her. We were hopeful that she would be supportive, but knew that if she wasn't that we would just have to be our own advocates. We got to our Labor and Delivery room shortly before shift change. The nurse that did all the admitting stuff wasn't very talkative. They hooked me up for monitoring, and I paced the 4 foot swath that I could move while hooked up so that I could keep moving and hopefully help labor pick back up. When the shift changed, our new nurse, Dana, came in. She BLEW US OUT OF THE WATER when she said, "So you're going to do this naturally! Awesome, I'm here to help you make that happen!" (She also told us that she's studying to become a nurse midwife.) We were psyched!!

She warned us that we wouldn't necessarily have an ally in Dr. Bledsoe, and that she (Dana) would advocate for us as much as she could, but that it would fall to us to absolutely refuse any of her suggestions that we didn't like. We also met Dr. Fagot (pronounced fuh-go), a resident who didn't sound like she was going to be much help, she was pushing pitocin already. She checked me and said I was maybe at 2.5. Dana got permission to take me off the monitors and 'a walking we went throughout the LDR floor. We were interrupted a short while later when Dr. Bledsoe showed up and wanted to check me. (This was around 9 am.) Dr. Bledsoe sat down on the bed and proceeded to tell me the risks of water breaking and labor not progressing (which we were certainly aware of - they just weren't applicable yet.) She was VERY pushy and wanted to start pitocin, which we said we didn't want to do yet. We asked for some time, and she so generously gave me 15 minutes - yeah like I was going to progress at ALL in that timeframe! She was all chatty-cathy, but we wanted to get rid of her as quickly as we could so that we could start WALKING again!!

We took off vigorously walking and strategized about how we were going to achieve the natural childbirth we both so desperately wanted. Each time we walked past the nurse's station, we could see Dr. Bledsoe waiting. After about 10 minutes, she got paged (Thank you God!) and left, leaving her minion, Dr. Fagot, to do her bidding. After Dr. Bledsoe left, Dana started in on Dr. Fagot. When we walked past, we could hear her explaining our rights as patients to her and trying to express our wishes. When we came around the next time, Dr. Fagot said, "Alright, let's head in and check you." To which my knight in shining armor flatly replied, "No, you can check her again at 10 o'clock." With a purple face, and scarcely able to speak, she replied, "ok, 10 o'clock."

The contractions were definitely strengthening as we walked and talked. Before long, it felt better to walk a little slower and just listen. I was ready for a break by 10, and when she checked me, I think I was dilated to 3. They wanted me to stay hooked up to the monitors for half an hour just to make sure everything was alright, and as I said, I was ready for a break from walking, so we were okay with that. Sometime during that time, the hospital laborist, Dr. Bryant, came in to talk to us more about the pitocin. She had a much more friendly approach than Dr. Bledsoe, and led with "why don't you explain what you want to do." We told her we wanted more time, but were okay with starting pitocin if the contractions hadn't begun in earnest by 11 am. From 10-11, the contractions were more intense, and we started using the relaxation techniques from the Bradley Method. Andy quietly coached each contraction, but at that point I wasn't relying on him. I could still easily handle them myself. I spent time on the birthing ball (which was actually shaped like a peanut and was much more stable than a birthing ball - it felt very good to be on it.) As 11 o'clock approached, the contractions eased up and spaced out. They let Dana write the orders for the pitocin, and she started it at like 1 (unit/hour or something like that.) They upped the pitocin at 11:30 to 2 units. The contractions started coming regularly, but weren't unmanageable. Dana went to lunch around noon, and I told Andy he should get something to eat too while I could still manage the contractions on my own. Since the contractions eased up when I laid down, I stayed in bed while he went to get lunch. After he finished his lunch, I got back out of bed and onto the birthing ball, since it seemed to make the contractions more intense. They upped the pitocin at 12:30 to 3 units. When the doctor (I can't remember which one it was, maybe Dr. Bryant?) checked me at 1, I was dilated to 5 and the contractions were becoming a lot more intense. Dana said she was going to bring the delivery cart in, which astounded me, I didn't think there was anyway I'd be delivering soon. She said she would bet I'd deliver within a few hours.

I stayed on the ball as long as it felt good as Andy quietly coached contractions. At some point, the ball stopped feeling good so I stood for a few contractions. That was pretty uncomfortable too, so I reluctantly moved to the bed (I didn't want the contractions to slow down, but Dana assured me they wouldn't at this point.) I laid on my left side and for quite a few contractions, that worked really well. After awhile, I wanted to roll over to my right side because the left side just wasn't cutting it anymore. Dana helped Andy adjust the pillows and Andy coached me through a few more contractions. Laying down was becoming more and more uncomfortable, and I was kind of unsure of what position to try next. Everything seemed uncomfortable. Dana suggested we raise the head of the bed up to 90 degrees and had me bend my knees and let them rest on pillows beside me. Boy did things become uncomfortable at that point!! Dana said she was going to check me because she thought things were moving along quickly, and sure enough, I was dilated to 7. She paged Dr. Bledsoe and began hurriedly prepping the delivery cart. I became very restless at this point and was having trouble focusing during my contractions. Andy helped me pull my hair back and I started saying that I didn't think I could do it anymore. To which he responded, "oh Michelle you are SO CLOSE!" Dana started helping coach contractions too. I was in transition!

I will here self-incriminate because I think it's hilarious, and don't really care...

A short while later, I yelled (more than once) "I need to POOOOOOOOP!!!!!" And I'll tell you why I said it. In my head, I figured it was the urge to push, but in case I pooped while pushing, I wanted everyone in the room to know that I indeed knew I needed to poop but could not get up and go to the bathroom to relieve myself.

Dana paged Dr. Bledsoe two more times, but then decided there was no way she was going to make it for the birth. Then the room got full of people. Dr. Fagot was back. I wanted to stick my tongue out at her and say "I told you so!" Dr. Bryant came in, as well as some guy doctor whose name I missed and some dude with glasses that just stood in the corner silent. They checked me and I was complete and baby's head had finally dropped all the way. I couldn't help but grunt, the contractions were SO STRONG and I could feel the baby crowning. To say that I pushed would be an overstatement. My body did most of the work and I could EASILY feel where to push/grunt. I was still sat up nearly straight on the bed and they didn't even have time to take the bottom part off because our little girl was born 3 pushes later at 3:51 pm. It was the hardest, most edifying, empowering, miraculous moment in my life. They immediately put her on my chest and Dana helped me get her to latch on and nurse. The placenta came shortly later pretty much on it's own. Ruby continued to nurse. Dr. Fagot supervised by Dr. Bryant began the stitches to repair my borderline 2nd degree tear. (Ruby was born with her hands up by her face.) I was not impressed with Dr. Fagot's anesthesia abilities as I felt several of the last stitches go in. Quite honestly it hurt and bothered me more than the whole birth experience did (not that labor and deliver weren't incredible painful and intense, because they WERE, but the stitches were just a totally different, sharper kind of pain.) Dana offered me something to drink, and I requested orange juice. It had never tasted SO GOOD! Ruby continued to nurse and nursed for a full hour before she was finally done.

We called my parents at that point and mom answered the phone. We asked her to put Ira on, but he didn't want to talk. Mom explained that he'd had a huge meltdown after getting up from quiet time (just prior to us calling) when she offered him a snack. He picked out a granola bar (i think?) and a Reese's peanut butter cup. She simply asked him if he'd given up candy for lent (just to double check) and he said yes and burst into tears. I assured her that he had indeed NOT given up candy for lent, which she relayed to him, but he was still crying, so she said she'd have him call us back in just a little bit. I'm sure it KILLED her to know that we'd had our baby but not to know what it was, etc. It gets really funny here, because she tried calling Andy's cell phone back and for some reason it went to voicemail. About 15 minutes later, I couldn't believe that they hadn't called back, so I called them back. We finally got to tell Ira that he had a baby sister. He didn't seem very surprised (he'd said it was a girl all along.) They headed up to the hospital shortly after we got off the phone.

When they arrived, Dana had just taken Ruby to the other side of the room to get her weight/measurements. Ira got to see all of that and watch as Dana did her footprints and gave her her first bath. His eyes were filled with wonder as he took it all in. (And made us all laugh with his questions/comments.) He kept asking Dana to please "give her back to my mommy." When it got close to time to bring her back over to me, Ira asked if he could carry her. We all chuckled, and Dana sweetly let Ira "carry" Ruby (with her help) over to me. It was such a beautiful moment!!

Awhile later, Dana helped me to the bathroom. Sometime prior to that, she had cleaned me up, because when I went to change gowns, I noticed that all the sticky bloodiness from Ruby laying on my chest was gone. (It's still a mystery when exactly she did that, but that just shows you what an excellent nurse she was. Totally helpful, but NEVER intrusive, she fit in perfectly to our birthing plans/wishes.) I walked back to the bed and reveled in watching my Ira become a big brother, a role he slipped into with grace and patience and kindness much beyond his four little years. When we were ready to go to the recovery room. Dana asked him to lead the train and open doors, which he PROUDLY did!

We were in the hospital overnight and were released the next evening.

I look back at the whole experience fondly misty-eyed. It was surreal and beautiful and miraculous and just absolutely wonderful. I feel so empowered by it. It helped redeem Ira's birth experience and drew Andy and I even closer to each other. He was such an amazing coach and support. I don't know how I could've done it without him.

I truly hope that I get to experience birth again sometime in the future. I'll leave that in the hands of our loving, patient, and ever-kind Father in Heaven!

Ruby's Birth Story Part deux

When Ira was 19 months old, we got pregnant again. For some reason, I just knew the baby was a girl, and I was excited to try again for a natural birth. God, in His infinite wisdom, had other plans for our precious baby. He took her home to Heaven on New Year's Eve, 2007. Her name was Caroline Rose.

We had changed OBs, but hadn't even seen our new OB for our first appointment when we miscarried. It was extremely difficult to go into his office and see all the pregnant women. He didn't act all too bothered by our miscarriage, and his nurse callously told us to wait 3-6 months before trying again. I broke down in tears at the thought of it. We did some reading in our NFP books and on the internet that said that there was really no reason to wait as long as the miscarriage completed itself naturally (without need for a D&C.) So we tried again that same month and were blessed with another pregnancy.

I felt sure that the baby was a boy. The OB's office acted miffed about the fact that we were pregnant again, but they did schedule my first appointment for 7 weeks instead of 10. When we went in for our first appointment, the office had just gotten a new sono machine that they were excited to try out on a very early pregnancy. They asked for our permission and I was excited to have my fears laid to rest with hopefully seeing a heartbeat. The heartbeat was very slow (upper 80s I believe.) And the sono showed a sub-chorionic hematoma. A pocket of blood around the yolk sac, but I wasn't having any bleeding. I was scared out of my mind and went home to wait and worry. That night, I started bleeding and miscarried again. His name was Levi James.

Our new OB still didn't seem to concerned about the miscarriages, his recommendation was just to wait another 3-6 months and try again. Andy and I weren't really thrilled at the thought of that, so we began the search for a different doctor. One who was more empathetic to our situation and who was willing to do some testing to see if there was ANY explanation for our losses. A friend who had had multiple miscarriages prior to her second son's birth recommended Doctor Ron Ferris. A catholic family practitioner a bulk of whose patients struggled with pregnancy (either getting pregnant or staying pregnant.) We had to wait almost 2 months to get in with him, during which time we also switched NFP methods (we learned the Creighton Model because it appeared to be much more clinical and objective - much easier to interpret data from.)

When we went for our first appointment, we were blown away with how patient and kind Doctor Ferris was. He spent over an hour talking with us about what testing he could do and what reasons might have caused our miscarriages. Immediately upon looking at my charts, he said, "well first off, I bet you have low thyroid levels." When the bloodwork came back, it proved his hypothesis. I started on thyroid medicine and saw definite improvement on my temperatures on my charts (not technically a part of the Creighton model, but something I continued to do on my CCL charts.) Over the course of the next few months, we also discovered I had low progesterone levels, so I also started progesterone supplements post-peak.

In September, somehow, we became pregnant again. (It was a real surprise! We're still not sure how/when we conceived... potentially 9 days pre-peak) I called Dr. Ferris' office right away and was blown away by the nurse's response... "Congratulations!!" she heartily said when I told her the news. What a switch! Dr. Ferris ordered some bloodwork and PERSONALLY called me back with the results. We talked for 45 minutes about the results (low, but not as bad as they could be.) He said numerous times during the conversation that he'd be praying for us and our baby. It moved me so much to have such a CARING doctor!! We had a sonogram around 7 weeks and again saw a slow heartbeat and a very small sub-chorionic hematoma. I put myself on bed rest and prayed like crazy! Dr. Ferris prescribed Heparin shots (in case a clot in the cord was causing the tearing), but they took awhile for the pharmacy to get in and after only one shot, we miscarried again. Her name was Hope.

After that, Andy and I began thoroughly researching causes of miscarriages. We met with Dr. Ferris several times and were so impressed at how open he was to our questions and ideas. I tried Metformin for several months, which has been shown to help with PCOS. We didn't know for sure if I had PCOS, but Dr. Ferris said that if I did, the Metformin would help it, and if I didn't, it wouldn't do any harm. My charts were crazy the months I was on Metformin, so we discontinued it in January. Then I found some information about Immature Follicle Syndrome. Essentially, the follicle (egg) is mature enough to be fertilized, but immature enough that 98% of the time, the pregnancy ends in a miscarriage. It sounded a lot like what we were experiencing, and we talked to Dr. Ferris about it. He said that it sure sounded like a possibility and told us that the treatment for it was Clomid. I started the Clomid in April of '09.

I will take a moment here to tell you that during this journey (especially after our last miscarriage), my prayer life and relationship with God improved IMMENSELY!! I had never been able to carve out the time in my day to have a regular prayer time, but I knew I couldn't make it through this trial without God's help. I read St. John of the Cross' "Dark Night of the Soul" and did some major soul-searching. I spent many mornings crying to God. A priest friend recommended taking my heavy heart to Mary, thus began a special appreciation for our blessed Mother. Overall it was a very dark time for me. I was without hope. I read the book of Job and could totally relate to him, but I was astounded by his unwavering devotion. I prayed to be like Job. I read the Psalms. Especially Psalm 69. That page in my bible will forever be a tear-stained reminder of that time in my life. I read the Catechism, especially the sections on Christian Death and Resurrection (paragraphs 1020-1029) over and over again. I came away with a firm belief that the end of the world nor death were to be feared but to be looked to with anticipation of being united wholly with God in perfect happiness. I knew that whether or not we were ever able to have another baby, I could look forward to the perfect joy of Heaven. And finally I let go. I knew that only God could help us get and stay pregnant (despite all the medical interventions, I knew that it all really was up to God.)

We tried for several months to get pregnant. That was hard too. As if waiting to try hadn't been hard enough, now we weren't getting pregnant despite trying. My faith wavered and I was worried we would never get pregnant. We prayed for God to be a part of our acts of love and we waited... Finally on July 6th, 2009, we found out we were pregnant again! The prayers became even MORE earnest at that point. I was thankful for the Heparin shots (which I did at 5 am and 5 pm) because it got me out of bed and gave me an opportunity to pray and talk to God EVERY morning.

To be continued...

Ruby's Birth Story Part 1

At long last, I am finally going to write and reflect on Ruby's birth. Be forewarned: this may be long!

I couldn't wholly tell you the story of Ruby's birth without telling you the story of Ira's birth. So here we go:

When I was 33 weeks pregnant with Ira, I started having contractions. They were close enough together and long enough that I called my doctor about them. He sent me to the hospital to have them checked. They gave me morphine to stop the contractions, but that made Ira's heartrate drop, so they had me stay in the hospital overnight for monitoring. After a night of monitoring, without anymore heart blips, they sent me home on bedrest. The contractions came and went, and we made several more trips to the hospital. Finally one night, they seemed to change, so we went to the hospital once again.

Now, this is where I will infuse new knowledge into the story. Andy and I were so young and naive about birth at that point, we wanted to do it all natural, but we weren't equipped with the knowledge to do so (despite the fact that we'd taken Lamaze - which I now see as a pointless venture.) When they checked me, I was at a 2, and they said if I dilated to a 3 in the next hour or so, they would admit me. The contractions essentially stopped, but when they checked me an hour later, I was at almost 3, so they admitted me... and immediately broke my water (big mistake #1.) and started me on pitocin (big mistake #2) Problem was, I don't really think Ira was READY to be born yet. So, all day, they kept increasing the pitocin, and I kept NOT progressing.

By 5 pm, our doctor (who by the way was NOT our doctor with Ruby's birth) was ALREADY pushing for a C-section (just 8 short hours after breaking my water!) Thank HEAVENS we had an incredible nurse who informed us that it was our right to refuse the doctor's recommendation. So we did.

By 8 pm, I had dilated to a measly 4 or 5, and stuff still wasn't moving. The doctor wanted a c-section scheduled. The nurse (I think?) suggested that we try stadol to help relax me so that maybe I could dilate more. I did that (which made me INCREDIBLY loopy!) I kid you not, the wallpaper border on the wall was MOVING! When it wore off, I had dilated a little more, and the contractions were picking up a little, but with our doctor's stringent time frame, someone suggested an epidural would continue to relax me so that I could dilate and avoid a c-section. We were willing to do just about anything at that point to avoid a c-section, so I had an epidural. I slept while the contractions continued. At 10 pm, the doctor said, enough waiting, you're 5th on the list for a c-section. We asked for ONE MORE HOUR... PLEASE! They said, okay, and checked me again at 11. I had progressed to 7 or so, so they let labor continue!

By around midnight, I felt the urge to push. The problem was, I couldn't feel WHERE to push, at all! They tried putting a mirror in front of me, so I could see, but apparently it made me light-headed, because the removed the mirror shortly after. They had to put me on oxygen, because I kept getting light-headed when I pushed. I also puked several times throughout the process. After nearly an hour and a half of pushing, Ira was finally born!! It was such an incredible experience to give birth vaginally, but I was left with regrets that I had to have an epidural. I wanted the birth of our next child to be different!

To be continued...

Success!!!

Well hurray, hurrah! Ira's fever finally broke and stayed broken on Tuesday. I did take him to the doctor though, because his fever was 104.3 on Tuesday morning and it scared me. I'm glad I took him though, he has/had a sinus infection that wouldn't have cleared up on it's own. He's on amoxicillin and doing much better. He still fights blowing his nose like we're asking him to cut off his leg (any suggestions?) but the worst is certainly over.

Also, on another front, Miss Ruby slept through the night last night!! AMAZING!!! She was awake most of the day yesterday (just catnaps here and there) which usually means that she also will not go to sleep for the night very well. However, she fell asleep in her carseat while we were driving home from town and I wasn't about to take her out when we got home (made that mistake once before.) So she slept from like 11:00 pm to 4:30 am. AMAZING!!!! Of course, I woke up twice and nearly woke her up trying to make sure that she was still breathing (seriously, I know I'm not the only momma out there who does that!) So hurray for that too!!

She really has been doing MUCH better with sleeping - especially at home. If we're out and about, she also does well because she sleeps very well in her carseat. It's just when we're at someone else's house that sleeping seems to be difficult to her. I'm sure that she'll get used to it in her own way in her own time.

Oh, we took her to the doctor last week for her 2 month well-baby visit and shots. Her stats are as follows: 13 lbs. 3 oz. (95th percentile); 24 in. (95th percentile); head circumference: 15.5 in (little over 50th percentile). I can't believe how fast she's growing!!

Sorry for the randomosity that is this post... I'm just not in the mood to take the time to word/arrange it just so...

Right now my house is: clean and picked up for once! Laundry is laundrying in the laundry room (how fitting)

Right now on my mind: thinking about how intense the Grey's Anatomy season finale was.

The Fever Game

We played (and lost) the fever game over the weekend at our house. Ira came down with a fever Saturday evening, not really many other symptoms, maybe some sniffles, and it broke overnight. Sunday he seemed okay, but towards late afternoon, he started seeming just not quite his usual self. Sunday evening the fever returned. Overnight that night, we were sure it had broken for good. He had soaked through his jammies and had to change, and his sheets were wet too! But hence, Monday evening the fever returned again. (Seriously, has anyone ever heard of a fever that had broken (TWICE) coming back again and again?) This morning, one of the times I went in to check on him because he was moaning in his sleep, he felt like a freakin' oven, so I took his temp again. 104.3 was enough to make me call the doctor at 8:00 to schedule and appointment. When he got up at 8:30, once again he was sweaty and didn't feel warm anymore. Fever broken again? Not wanting to take chances of it coming back again tonight, I went ahead and kept his doctor's appointment. It was a good thing I did, apparently he has a sinus infection (which wouldn't clear up on it's own.) So we got him some antibiotics, and the fever hasn't reappeared (and HOPEFULLY won't !)

Fevers are truly like some kind of sick game if you ask me... they're here, they're gone, here, gone.... etc... And having a sick kiddo is kind of a sick game too. I HATE it. I LOATHE it. I DESPISE it. I just hate not knowing for sure what's going on, what hurts/doesn't and if/when we should go to the doctor. I am a worry-wart, I'll admit. So that doesn't make things any better... me laying there playing the worst-case scenarios over and over in my head. It is truly a helpless feeling!

Yeesh, if you'd only read my most recent posts, you'd think this parenting stuff was (gasp) hard stuff! It is certainly filled with the most abundant rewards though, too!!

Right now my house is: kind of messy, go figure!

Right now on my mind: why does my head hurt so bad?!

Reflections

Reflecting... introspecting... self-evaluating... Such an important facet of parenting. Such a constant in the life of a parent. Something that I don't think our children understand. Certainly not now... hopefully when (if) God blesses them with children of their own some day. Then they will hopefully understand how much thought and worry and concern, and reflection went into their upbringing.

Last post, I blogged about putting Ira down for quiet time without lunch. The whole time he was in quiet time, I was wondering if it was the right thing to do. Even though we'd discussed doing it, it was much harder to carry out live and in person. When I went to get Ira up, he tearfully told me he was hungry... and we talked about why he was hungry. He did realize that he was in "trouble" for throwing a fit... so that's good - he too did some reflecting apparently. His fit throwing has improved some, but I'm not sure that that's a strategy that I want to use again for awhile. I don't know that it was the wrong thing to do, I just don't know that it was exactly what he needed at the age/stage that he's at.

That night at dinnertime, he started to throw a fit again. But this time, Andy and I both talked to him about his fit throwing. About how when he throws fits, he's not really communicating very clearly. We talked about how it wasn't really that he didn't want to eat dinner (he said, "No mom, I really am hungry.") We talked about how really, he was just frustrated that he had to stop playing his drums to come to dinner. We practiced what he could say to accurately convey his feelings next time. "Aw MAN! I don't want to stop playing my drums!!" About what he could do: ask calmly, "Dad, would it be alright if I come to dinner after I finish this song?" And we talked about how sometimes we would probably say that that was alright, and sometimes, we might say it's not. He seemed to appreciate us taking the time to talk to him about his feelings. It just felt right. Much more appropriate for his age/level of understanding.

Since then, he's used the strategy we talked about once. And the fits are getting a little better. We also are giving him more advance warning and more frequent reminders before mealtime. That seems to be helping a lot! (Thanks Monica!) It is hard for me to take parenting advice. It humbles me. And that's a good thing.

Parenting is a journey. One that is FILLED with decisions. I am so grateful to have a patient, understanding husband to share the journey with. Grateful that God made kids resilient. Grateful for reflection.

Right now my house is: lived in... It's almost 11 o'clock and the dishes aren't loaded in the dishwasher, there's a bowling alley in the walkway that runs from where I sit to the back door, a bouncy seat on the bar, a carseat on the table and shoes... oh shoes! (Not on the table of course! well, at least not that I can see...) The babes are asleep, the hubby is tinkering in the garage. And yet, right now, I actually don't care. My house may be a mess, but it's a blessed mess!

Right now I'm: wondering if my rambling about reflections made sense to anyone but me. I just can't seem to word it right. It's what happens to me when I try to write deeply. I get all bumble-brained and fumble-fingered.