These Guyz

This guy fell face first off the swing and literally ate dirt. I barely had enough time to finish cleaning the sand out of his eyes, nose and face before he begged to get back on again. This guy also peed on the potty. We aren't really potty training. Just sometimes, I ask if he needs to go pee on the potty, and sometimes he says yes, and sometimes the pee comes out while he's on the potty. After having a dry diaper for a couple hours tonight, I asked him if he needed to pee on the potty and he did. It was pretty cool and exciting until he decided he needed to stay on the potty another ten minutes insisting the poop is coming. No poop, just bedtime stalling.

With this guy, the Halloween obsession continues with Halloween-inspired outfits and an awesome scarecrow advent calendar he made at school and can't stop talking about. This guy also complained because cousin William wanted to marry him in the game, but London really wanted to marry Batman instead. And this guy is really enjoying hanging with the ladies at Activity Days.

These guyz had the cutest game of rock, paper, scissors this morning. Unfortunately, I can't get my phone to upload the video of it to my computer so I can post it on here, but just know, it was cute.

Speaking of Frankenstein...

In occupational therapy, London learned about the green zone, the yellow zone, the red zone and the blue zone. Each color zone is associated with different feelings (green-happy, yellow-excited/revved up, red-angry/aggressive, blue-sad/tired). It gives us some concrete ways to talk about his feelings and to increase body/emotion awareness.

Today, I want to talk about the green zone. In the green zone, we're happy and calm. It's the good feeling zone. I love hanging with London when he's in the green zone. At night, when he's laying in bed, right before he falls asleep, he's usually in that calm, happy green zone. He opens up and can talk forever. He has an incredible memory and surprises us by what he has picked up from other conversations/songs/shows/or from events years ago. He constantly cracks us up with the hilarious things he says. In the green zone, he is the sweetest brother to Bodhi. Kind, loving, patient. Seriously, watching London help and play with Bodhi is one of my favorite parts of parenting. It's so cute and puts me in my green zone. And, I love when something gets London cracking up. I love watching his face light up and hear those sweet, spontaneous giggles escape from that adorable grin. He's so cute and so silly.

I mean...

Apparently these are Frankenstein pajamas.

Today, he was upset to hear that it still isn't Halloween. So, we made these cute Halloween masks from It's Always Autumn (https://www.itsalwaysautumn.com/2016/09/01/halloween-masks-print-color.html). Which were fun for them to color, but then resulted in lots of yelling (It looks weird...it feels weird...I actually wanted the pumpkin...actually I want Frankenstein back on...I want to take off my shirt so I can look like Frankenstein...I can't find a suit that looks like Frankestein...) And then, once he was finally satisfied with the perfect Frankenstein outfit, there was lots of running around yelling: "I'M FRANKENSTEIN!!!"

You mean to say, you're Frankenstein's monster. Now please stop yelling.

Bodhi is pretty cute too. And WILD. That kid moves non-stop. His mouth is always formed into a mischievous grin and gets a kick out of teasing us. He reminds me of this guy...

Check out the David books by David Shannon.
They are hilarious and basically written about Bodhi's life.
The sharp-toothed, naughty grin is spot-on.

Here he looks sweet. And he is mostly sweet.
But, dumping all of the clean clothes onto the floor over and over again was not sweet.
#NoBodhi!

A Mini Mummy

London asks constantly if it's Halloween yet. "29 days until Halloween" was not what he wanted to hear. Cue the whining. I tried to lighten his mood by reminding him of all the fun Halloween stuff we can do before it's actually Halloween. So today we did a little Halloween craft, inspired by this one: https://iheartcraftythings.com/yarn-wrapped-mummy-craft.html. The inspiration-mummy is much cuter than ours, but at least London enjoyed making it. 

All you need is:
- About 4-5 yards of yarn per mummy
-Manila File Folder
-Pencil
-Scissors
-Crayons
-Elmer's Glue
-Googly Eyes

First, I drew a gingerbread man shape onto a manila file folder. I just free-handed it sloppily, but you could always trace one (you could try using a gingerbread man cookie cutter for the shape):

Then, I cut it out, conveniently making 2 for the effort of 1.

Next, London and Bodhi each colored their mummies. London was pretty thorough. 

London's occupational therapist once explained to me that coloring and writing can be hard for kids with sensory processing issues. Sometimes they have bad handwriting or grip extra hard on whatever utensil they're using. Sometimes thicker utensils, such as thick markers or pencils with a grip, can be easier for these kids to use. London is sometimes guilty of the death-pencil/crayon-grip, and his hand gets tired easily (which could also just be because he is four and has a short attention span).
Nevertheless, he powered through. 

Bodhi, on the other hand, colored for a minute,

then dumped the whole box of crayons all over the floor. 

I tied some yarn onto the mummys-to-be. A little morbid/spooky as is.

Then you just wrap the yarn around. 

This is as far as London got before he wanted me to just do it for him.

 Then, he glued on the googly eyes. Cute mini mummy ninja.

Bodhi was disinterested in trying to wrap it himself, but very interested in unwrapping it after I wrapped it up. So, we left it at this stage and just added the eyes. 

Happy Halloween in 29 wake-ups!

You Win Some You Lose Some

London played great independently during quiet time today and was focused and attentive when we went on family outings (WIN). I got in some knitting time today (WIN). Scott cleaned most of the kitchen (WIN for me). Dinner with Scott's family at my sister-in-laws (WIN). Bodhi had diarrhea that spilled out onto his pants while at family dinner at my sister-in-laws (LOSS). Right before bed London was all revved up and not responding or listening very well. The climax was when he (I kid you not) wiped his pee then shoved the soiled toilet paper IN MY FACE (BIG LOSS). Yes I cried. It was more than this germa-phobe could handle. London reminded me to get a drink of water to help me calm down-so at least I know the things he's learning in OT are sinking in (WIN). Somehow, despite that traumatizing incident, the night ended with a hug (WIN). We talked about how London's body was having a rough time and was all revved up and how his heart was racing. I hope that he will grow up to be aware of his body and know what he can do to help his body calm down when it revs up.

"Normal"

"So, like will he be normal when he grows up?" she asks.

"Yeah...I mean some things will require some accommodations...but he'll eventually learn to cope in acceptable ways," I respond. That's my hope anyways. But, sometimes, in the thick of it, I worry.

Mornings like today. London wanted to all go grocery shopping as a family. Scott groaned.

We haven't taken him grocery shopping in at least a month. The last time we went together, he got nervous, bolted, ran OUT of the store, then luckily ran back in the other entrance, but it still took several minutes of chasing to finally catch him.

Within the past month, we've put London on several different supplements, and he's been handling things so much better. His meltdowns are shorter, he is more attentive, and a sweet, calm, well-adjusted, happy kid shines through. I was optimistic. So we went. Rookie mistake. (And yet, I'm not really a rookie. He is four after all.)

Just getting ready to leave was rough. He tried on 6/8 pairs of socks in his drawer and none of them felt right. He was very emotional about it all. Finally, we found a pair of dirty socks that were acceptable. With sandals. On the wrong feet. With plaid shorts and an un-matching Jake and the Neverland Pirates shirt. Complemented by a pair of bright blue sunglasses. Picking my battles.

We survived the first store...barely. He started to run off at the beginning, but I caught him, put him in the cart and gave him my stretchy nursing cover that he likes to wrap up in and shut out the world.

Store #2 started out okay. I let him play with toys in the toy section while Scott did the shopping, then we met up at the end. London wanted to help by handing me the groceries. Okay. As I waited for him to hand me the heavy bag of rice, I started putting other groceries on the conveyor belt. There were other people behind us and I didn't want to hold them all up.

London lost it. "I WANTED TO HAND YOU ALL THE GROCERIES!!!" I had Scott finish loading up the conveyor belt as I took a screaming and crying London away from the scene to cool down. The kid goes from 0 to 50 in seconds. Screaming. Flailing about. Punching me in the face. Pulling my hair. I found a bench by the front of the store where we sat and I tried to calm him down. "I WANTED TO HELPPP!!!!" he screamed. I asked him to take some belly-breaths to calm down so he could try again. He took two big breaths, then calmed enough to try again.

We walked back to Scott in the checkout line. I asked if London wanted to help bag groceries. When he realized that Scott was already done putting all the groceries on the conveyer belt, the screaming and crying ensued. "I WANTED TO HAND YOU ALL THE GROCERIES!!!!!"

I took him outside as he screamed, cried hysterically, punched me in the face over and over, and pulled my hair. Embarrassing. We sat on a curb outside. I worked on calming him down. "1, 2, 3..." This week in OT we talked about counting as a way to calm our anger. "4, 5, 6..." he counted along.

At that moment, Scott walked out with all the groceries and as London realized no grocery help was needed, the hysteria resumed. Screaming bloody murder, crying, picking up anything within his reach to throw at me. A hard rubber ball made contact. Somehow I managed to buckle him and get him to stay buckled. Desperate, I think I threatened to throw away his favorite treat.

The whole 15 minute drive home, London screamed a terrifying, intense battle cry, over and over again as his body writhed to rip out of his seatbelt. More crying. Kicking Scott. Then kicking my arm, as I blocked his kicks from making contact with Scott who was driving. Punching. Biting me over and over again. I tried to distract him. I tried to soothe him. I tried to be firm. And still his inexplicable rage continued.

And finally the climax. He turned and punched sweet little Bodhi in the face-who had been cowering and covering his ears this entire time in his seat. I lost it: "DON'T YOU EVER HURT YOUR LITTLE BRO...THER!" I yelled, my voice breaking into sobs. Poor little Bodhi.

Luckily at this point, we were finally pulling into the garage. London's screams melted to sobs. "Mama Hold Me." And I held him. And we laid in his bed as he returned to "normal" and Bodhi joined us. And I held them both, feeling emotionally bruised and exhausted.

"This is my life." I think about twenty times a day. Where insignificant tasks become insurmountable obstacles. And I feel so bad for him. Life is so hard for him. Where little things like the bumpy, pebble-tec bottom of a pool prevents him from wanting to swim though he's been looking forward to swimming with cousins all day, or where small noises like the unexpected jiggle of a door knob fills him with enough terror to run and hide. It's got to be so hard to live in his world.

"Normal?" I hope this isn't normal. I hope someday his world eases up on him and he can handle a simple shopping trip without a grand mal meltdown and no longer has to even think about the bumps in his socks or the "crumbs" on the pool floor.

2 Standard Deviations

Two standard deviations from normal, according to the evaluation from the occupational therapist. We met with her for the second time on Wednesday, and she gave us a report of her evaluation. The rest of our visit was spent trying to establish a good rapport with London-that this is a fun place-and after that, she explained, it will probably get uncomfortable for him as we seek to find therapies that work at minimizing the sensory integration issues he struggles with.

"London is a sweet 4 year old boy..." the report begins. It goes on to explain that he struggles with auditory, tactile, and proprioceptive sensory integration which is disrupting his ability to engage in appropriate hygiene, social, and self-regulating behaviors.

Having my suspicions confirmed by an occupational therapist was so incredibly validating. And yet, very overwhelming. There's so much work ahead. And cost. And time. And patience required. But there's hope. At least the hope that we have some help and resources to assist us in parenting our sweet, spirited boy.

And all before lunchtime...

We're on a roll this week...

Wednesday
London has his first swim lesson of the season today. He is excited and ready to go. Nevertheless, the morning is a whine-and-fight-fest with London wanting to play alone and Bodhi wanting to play with London. Trying to respect London's introvert needs, while attending to Bodhi's needs as an extrovert, all while trying to get us ready to go and breaking up fights in the meantime, was all pretty exhausting. Eventually, we made it to swim lessons. London starts strong and enthusiastic, but five minutes in, his teacher asks him to Super Man out to her. I could see that he looked scared and uncomfortable. Suddenly, a little baby getting lessons on the other side of the pool simultaneously starts crying. That set him off into the red zone. London starts yelling "MAMAMA!!!" while sobbing hysterically and refusing to do anything else despite both my and his teacher's efforts for the next 20-25 minutes. When the lesson had one minute left, he had finally calmed down and agreed to do some kicks in the pool. I was embarrassed and frustrated. It's now 11 am.

Thursday
Both boys woke up by 5:30am, but played peacefully and quietly until showtime at 6 am. After shows and breakfast, they resumed their playing, but by 7:30, London was chucking wooden puzzles at Bodhi and me, because...I think Bodhi tried to play too?

Later, I'm trying to get us ready to go for a walk, and keep getting interrupted by the boys whining, fighting, and London pretending to be a baby and insisting I treat him as such. It's frustrating, but I soldier on.

Shortly before our walk, we sit down together to arrange his schedule for the day (London has a paper schedule that we arrange every morning so he knows what to expect.) We sit down to put it together and London, without warning, starts smacking the papers everywhere and destroying the schedule. I calmly explain that that behavior is disrespectful and unacceptable. This sets him off in a rage, because apparently he was just 'pretending that he is a baby that doesn't understand and destroys things', so why should he be in trouble?! He picks up a heavy metal toy train, and cocks it back ready to throw. I sternly explain that if he throws that at me, he will not get to go to his uncle's house and will lose showtime. Inside, I am terrified, knowing if he throws it at me, from where he is standing 2 feet away, it will do some serious damage to my face. Angrily, he pretends to throw it at me, but keeps the toy in his hand. After several times of this torture, I decide to turn my attention elsewhere in the hopes he moves on to something else. Instead, he just picks up a different hard toy and chucks that, thankfully, away from my direction. Into the pack-in-play he goes. I shut the door and Bodhi wants to nurse. The entire time I nurse Bodhi, London screams and cries and won't let up expressing his anger. Afterwards, we have a calm, loving conversation while I hold him, but even still, I am drained. It's 9 am.

Friday
This morning both boys were up by five. Bodhi wakes up happy, punching me excitedly and yelling "MOOOM!" London opens the curtains and yells "IT'S MORNING!" Followed by: "Is it 6-0-0?" When I tell him its only 5, he proceeds to whine in protest. (They aren't allowed to watch a show until 6:00am.) "It's not my fault you guys woke up too early. You know the rules." I explain.

It's a whine-fest until 6:00am while I try to make a suitable breakfast. The smoothie makes his mouth too cold. The oatmeal doesn't look right. And of course we don't have enough bacon left to satisfy him. Now he wants nachos. For breakfast.

It's finally 6-0-0. I set his timer for 20 minutes, and he turns on Little Einsteins. The timer goes off too soon...for both of us. I had just finished making his nachos. "I wanted to eat my nachos WHILE I'm watching a show!" London yells. He's pretty upset and runs to his room to get a toy to throw at me. First, he just teases-pretending to throw the toy without actually letting go. Then he chucks a plastic baseball bat at me. I pick him up, set him in the pack-n-play (that he still can't climb out of), and shut the door.

He screams and yells and cries and doesn't let up. Meanwhile I google how to respond to aggression with kids with sensory processing issues. After a few minutes, I hear him yell "MOM I need to go Pee-Pee!" I rush him to the bathroom. He goes and is finally calm. We talk about why he was in timeout. We talk about throwing toys. Again. This time he says, "The pee-pee was making me throw things mom." Seems silly, but I believe him because his sensory issues cause an aversion to using the toilet, which causes lots of fight or flight behaviors. It's now 7 am.

The Boys

Found this old, unfinished post... How did they grow so fast?!

Bodhi lately...

Smiles sometimes when he sees me, getting fat, seems to be soy intolerant, has done a couple four+ hour stretches between 

Fun Things

Lavender Lucite Earrings

Oval Earrings

Sonnet James' Playsuit

Sonnet James' June Dress

Corinne T-Shirt Dress

Anthropologie Rio Pom Pom Clutch

LoLo

How can a human move so slow and yet so fast at the same time?

Your body is physically moving so fast I can't keep up and yet it takes you 20 minutes to put your shoes on...and they don't even have laces! (You pulled the laces out of all your lace-up shoes.)

It takes you a year to climb in your car-seat. You insist on climbing in through the opposite door, under Bodhi's rear-facing infant seat. And yet, it takes you just half a second to lock your door so that I can't unbuckle you without a game of "who can lock/unlock the door fastest."

It takes you an hour to bring me your toothbrush and toothpaste, but only takes you ten seconds to chuck it across the room in protest...after I've already put the toothpaste on the brush. The bigger the mess, the better, you seem to say.

It takes you thirty minutes to choose a shirt, after pulling five out of your drawer. And ten seconds to change your mind. And another ten minutes to choose a different shirt. Then another thirty of chasing you around before you will put it on. Sometimes we take you places in the nude and get you dressed when we get to our destination, often in the parking lot or in the garage as we are leaving.

London (aka LoLo, the nickname given to you lovingly by the Anderson family), you are the fastest slowpoke I have ever known.

Bodhi's Birth Story

Okay, so this is the longest post ever. For those who are uninterested in reading a million details of labor and delivery, here is the abridged version: We had a baby boy on September 3rd, named Bodhi Blake Cardon. 6 lbs. 9 oz. We love him! 

Last pic as a family of three

Waiting in Triage

Bodhi Blake

6 lbs 9 oz, 19.5"

London meeting Bodhi for the first time

Mckayli, London, Grandma Godard meeting Bodhi for the First Time

Skin to Skin with Dad=Sweetest thing I've ever seen

Heading Home

Finally home...

In the First Days with Bodhi

3 weeks old. LOVES his bink

3 Weeks Old

For those interested in all the gory details...

They took me off all of the medications on Thursday, and my last shot was that previous Monday. 

Thursday night: I had painful contractions between 3-8 minutes apart, but they never became regular and eventually went away. 

Saturday: starting around 10:30 am, I had contractions every 3 minutes for about 4 hours, and we got everything ready to go-bags packed, house cleaned, mom on stand by to pick up London-but they never intensified and eventually died down. It was very frustrating and exhausting! I tried to stay as active as possible, but still they just stopped. I was sooo ready to be done being pregnant! 

Monday night: I started having contractions between 3-8 minutes apart. They started to get closer together and gradually more intense, so we had my mom pick up London. I tried to wait as long as possible before going to the hospital (since 12 hours waiting around for London to be born was so uncomfortable and boring), but after another hour or two, they were pretty painful and close together, we decided to head over to the hospital. Of course, by the time we decided to leave, a storm rolled in and it was pouring so hard that Scott had to pull off the road into a gas station. It was pretty intense and I'm sure nerve wracking for Scott. Finally, we made it to the hospital. I can't remember how far I was dilated and effaced, but it wasn't much different from the last time my doctor checked me. Frustrating! My doctor happened to be at the hospital, so he stepped into my room in triage to say "Hi." He was pretty sure I was going to have my baby that night. Unfortunately, they checked me again after an hour or so, and I hadn't progressed at all. Even though I was still in lots of pain with all the contractions, they sent me home. I went home exhausted, defeated, and in tons of pain. I took a warm shower to try to ease the pain and to relax. Eventually, I was able to fall asleep and the contractions stopped. 

Tuesday: I was so tired I didn't want to even think about going into labor. 

Wednesday: I had a doctor appointment in the morning. He checked me and I was dilated to a 5, 80-90% effaced (I can't quite remember exactly)... He was going out of town on Friday and said if I didn't go into labor on my own that night, he would strip my membranes tomorrow. That check hurt bad and got the contractions started back up again. I had irregular contractions all evening, but they never became more regular, so around 9 pm, we headed off to bed. I used the restroom before laying down and there was blood. That didn't happen when I was in labor with London, so I was a little worried. We called my mom to come get London and then we headed off to the hospital again. 

10:00 pm-ish - Arrived at triage. We had the same nurse that we did on Monday. I liked her, so that was nice. But, I was still at a 5, 80-90% effaced. She said the blood was nothing to worry about and that she would check me again in an hour. I tried to stay standing up and moving as much as possible while attached to the monitors.

11:30 pm-ish - Still at a 5. Boo. The nurse left to call my doctor. I was sure they would send us back home, and was kind of hoping that we could go home and get some rest. (My dream delivery day was Thursday or Friday, so that we could take advantage of the 3-day weekend and the PTO Scott saved and he could be home all next week.)

12:00 am-ish - Doctor Huish instructed the nurse to have us walk around for an hour to see if it would help me progress. We walked around the postpartum area of the hospital, a small awkward square, in which we ran into the same nurses 8 million times as we looped around. We got to see the room that we had last time when London was born. 

1:00 am-ish - Still at a 5. grrr. But, the contractions had picked back up again. We waited for the nurse to call Dr. Huish.

1:30/2 am-ish - Since my contractions had picked up, Dr. Huish decided to admit me. The nurse said they were preparing a room for me. By this point, I was in a lot of pain. I tried to breath through my contractions and use the relaxation techniques I learned on the hypnobirthing youtube videos. I switched back and forth between leaning over the bed and sitting in a chair. I didn't want to lay down and have the contractions stop again. My birth plan was to try to see how long I could go without an epidural. I LOVED my epidural last time. It worked beautifully! I couldn't feel any pain (except at the end and only above where the epidural reaches), and could still feel the pressure of the contractions. However, the epidural seemed to slow down my contractions with London last time, requiring a double dose of pitocin and antibiotics. Also, I was hoping that by laboring naturally as long as possible, maybe I wouldn't need as big of an episiotomy and so hopefully my recovery would be a little easier than it was with London. Over an hour went by. We were both so uncomfortable in that little triage room. Scott was irate. He dosed off in the chair for maybe twenty minutes, but it was so uncomfortable he couldn't stay asleep very long. Throughout this whole time (well, actually the whole week), my mom kept texting me anxiously to see what was going on. She was excited when I let her know that they were admitting us. She had brought London back to her house, and he took awhile to fall back asleep, but luckily he was calm and just laid down by my mom until he was able to fall back asleep. I was so grateful to have my family close to watch him, where I know he is comfortable, so I didn't have to worry about him too much.

4:00 am-ish - Finally, the nurse returned, explaining they had an emergency and weren't able to prep a room for me until now. She drew blood (but couldn't get enough), got me hooked up to an IV and then we finally headed down to my labor and delivery room with my labor and delivery nurse. She drew more blood, hooked me up to all the monitors, started me on the antibiotics, etc, etc. Finally, she dimmed the lights and said we could try to get some sleep. Scott was finally more comfortable on a couch with pillows and a blanket and quickly fell asleep. I finally laid down and tried to sleep. 

5:00 am-ish - I only slept maybe 30 minutes and then couldn't sleep anymore because of the painful contractions. I got up to use the restroom. Then, the nurse came in and checked me. Still at a 5. Go figure.

5:30 am-ish - Dr. Huish came by and checked me. He agreed that I was still at a "loose 5" "almost 6". He broke my water then instructed my nurse to start me on pitocin. This labor was not going as I had hoped, but I understand that labors often go differently than planned. Plus, by that point, I was so ready to be done with labor, I was okay that they were going to speed things up. The nurse cleaned me up after Dr. Huish broke my water. Like, she literally wiped me like a baby. It was humiliating. I feel like with my first labor, everyone was very conscientious of keeping me as modest and covered as possible. This time around, there was no privacy. The nurses just did what they needed to do without trying to keep me covered or anything. Though I was a little embarrassed, I figure they've seen it all... The nurse said that she wanted to monitor how the baby handles the broken water before she starts me on pitocin. After Dr. Huish broke my water, the contractions started to pick up. They were closer together now and PAINFUL. Nevertheless, I continued to breathe through them, and tried to use my relaxation techniques as much as possible. 

6:00 am-ish - Nurse switch. My new nurse Keely was AMAZING! When I told her that I was trying to labor without an epidural as long as possible, she was very supportive! 

7:00/7:30 am-ish - She got me started on a low dose of pitocin, even though Dr. Huish would have liked it higher. The contractions hurt BAD. I sat on the edge of the bed, breathing through each contraction. Scott would help by holding my hand or touching my back. It was hard. But surprisingly, I was still doing pretty well. I just had to make it through each contraction, then I would have a couple minutes of relief before another one started back up. If I had an estimated timeline of how much longer I would have to do this for, I think I would have been more encouraged to keep going naturally, but without knowing, and since my labor had already been going on for four months, it was very hard. Nevertheless, it was still do-able at this point. 

8:30 am-ish - At some point, I believe she checked me again and I was still at just a 6. She said that she needed to up my dose of pitocin again. As soon as it kicked in, the contractions went from a 9/10 on the pain scale to a 25/10! It was literally the worst pain I have ever felt in.my.life! After two of those insane-screaming-crying-like-a-dramatic-movie-labor-scene contractions, I decided I wanted an epidural. She asked if I wanted her to check me again since I was probably in transition and almost at the end. "Nope." I replied. "I want an epidural." She was so awesome and called up the anesthesiologist right away. Thankfully, I had the same anesthesiologist as last time. I believe her name is Barb, and she is amazing! Keely said that she usually calls her to do her own epidurals. I love her. She was so quick and did it perfectly even. While I was waiting for the epidural and as it was being put in, I held Scott's hands. During the contractions, I was literally squeezing them so hard and screaming, like you see in the movies. What a cliche! Scott was laughing to himself. Yeah. So funny. Ha. Ha. Finally, the epidural started to kick in a little bit. Unfortunately, by this point I was almost at the end and so it didn't take away the pain, but just kind of took the edge off. I still had to breathe through the contractions and my body had started to shake uncontrollably. It was horrible. I felt like I was being such a drama queen with the shaking, but I literally couldn't help it. My body was doing its own thing. It was pretty weird. The epidural wasn't helping much, so they decided to give me more, but it still wasn't helping much. So, Barb decided to give me a stronger type of epidural medicine. She warned it would make my legs pretty numb for awhile after labor, but wanted me to be a little more comfortable. My body was still shaking, and I was still breathing through contractions and still in pain, but at least it was somewhat more bearable. 

9:00 am-ish - I got a catheter put in. And Keely checked me...I think I was at a 9 by this point. 

9:15/9:30 am-ish - I started feeling all this pressure down there. It is unlike anything I have every felt. It was Bizarre! I notified my nurse. She was going to head down the hallway to call Dr. Huish, but decided to check me first. Apparently I was closer than she thought, so she just used her walkie-talkie to ask another nurse to call Dr. Huish.

9:30/9:45 am-ish - Dr. Huish arrived. They got things prepared. Legs in stirrups. Baby warmer on. So exciting.

10:00 am-ish - And then I asked to push, since there was that crazy pressure going on. I pushed for maybe five minutes. Then Dr. Huish asked if I wanted him to give a little room for the baby's head via an episiotomy or I would tear. I opted for the epi. One more push and he was out. They laid him on my chest. And he was not happy! Screamed and screamed! With London, once they laid him on my chest and I started talking to him, he calmed down and looked at me. Not Bodhi. He was mad and wanted everyone to know it! He screamed for what felt like five minutes before he started to calm down. Dr. Huish did all the after birth fun stuff-deliver the placenta (Dr. Huish: "Would you like to see the placenta?" Me: "No way."), cut the cord, stitches, the works-all while I held little Bodhi. One thing I requested beforehand was that I just hold him and try to nurse before they take him off to be weighed and all that other stuff (look up information about the breast crawl online-its amazing!). So, they took his vitals while he was on my chest. After Dr. Huish and the nurses finished up, they left Scott, Bodhi and I alone. I had Bodhi on my chest, skin-to-skin, while I laid back. The epidural hadn't worn off completely yet, so thankfully I wasn't in a ton of pain. He started to make his way over, I helped him latch on, and he nursed! It was amazing! He nursed for probably an hour total-half on one side, half on the other. Though Bodhi is tongue and lip tied like London, I think this first nursing session was a big key to helping us figure out the nursing thing. Babies are most alert right after labor. After that, he struggled to eat because he was jaundiced and sleepy, but this first session kept me encouraged because I knew he could do it, so we stuck with it! After about two hours of skin to skin, and after Scott got to hold him for the first time, the nurse came and together with Scott, they helped me get up and cleaned off. (Scott later said, "I can't believe you were able to pee with her standing right there." Haha.) Then, she weighed and measured Bodhi. 6 lbs 9oz, 19.5(?) inches long. Then, she wheeled us off to our postpartum room. 

12:00 pm-ish - Our first post partum nurse was Mary, the magical and kind nurse from when we had London. She is very calming and it was nice to have her. I got to eat a big lunch, which was much better than the graham crackers I got after labor with London.

My mom brought London by to meet Bodhi, (even though it was London's naptime and he fell asleep in the car, we had her wake him up, I was too excited!). He brought the gift he bought for Bodhi (ASU shirts). And we had a gift from Bodhi to London (a puzzle) he got to open as well. When he first met Bodhi, he smiled. Then, lost interest and wanted to push all the buttons on the hospital bed. Then, he warmed up and wanted to hold Bodhi. It was an exciting and happy moment for our little family!

The next few days are a blur of sweet baby cuddles, family visits, nurses coming in and out, eating between feedings, doctors, checks, etc. We had to stay an extra day because Bodhi's jaundice levels were too high and he was only eating maybe 5 minutes every 4 hours, which worried the pediatrician. So, she instructed us to supplement with some formula. Thankfully, my milk came in that evening, so I didn't have to feed him very much formula and he was able to eat more. Friday we were frustrated because we really wanted to go home and the pediatrician was still concerned and had us stay an extra day. It was actually for the best, because on Saturday I was able to meet with a lactation consultant that was amazing and helped me to know how to deal with engorgement and get Bodhi to latch better. Finally on Saturday around 1 pm, we were able to go home! So, London spent more than half the week at my parents house, but luckily he loved it. And, luckily Scott didn't have to go back to work until Friday of the following week. So, we had a very magical week as a little family of four (despite London not sleeping at night, crying every time the baby would cry, and turning into a little maniac). And Bodhi is nursing great, which is SO much easier than pumping full time! And the recovery this time around was SO much easier!

 

3 weeks old

Logical Explanation

Me: "Why did you poop in the bath?"
London: "...Bodhi poop in little bath."

A Day in the Life of a Hamster (aka Mom)

1:30 am - Newborn cries wanting to eat. After nursing, burping, diaper changing, nursing, and burping again, the baby finally falls back to sleep around 2:15 am. 

2:15 am - Try to go back to sleep. Stomach growls. Nausea sets in. Must eat. Breastfeeding burns calories like crazy. Grab a bowl of cereal. Brush teeth again...or did I even brush them before?...I don't remember... pee. 

2:30 am - Lay back down.

2:35 am - Toddler (who at some point earlier in the night made his way into our bed) starts yelling in his sleep and shaking his hand furiously...probably a nightmare about the bee sting that happened earlier in the day. I try to comfort him back to sleep, but he wakes up anyways. He wants milk. (His new favorite drink. He hated milk until the baby was born.) Get him some milk. 

2:40 am - Lay back down. Start to fall asleep...

3:00 am - Toddler wakes you back up asking for more milk. I refuse- "You already had some. Go back to sleep." Crying and whining ensue. Fine. I get some more milk.

3:10 am - Lay back down. Start to fall asleep...

3:30 am - Newborn cries wanting to eat. Nurse. Burp. Change. Repeat.

4:00 am - Newborn finally falls back to sleep. Lay down. Finally fall asleep...

6:30 am - Toddler: "Watch a show, mom?" Groan. Turn on Netflix. Warm up some pancakes. Start a load of laundry. Eat breakfast.

6:40 am - Head back to bed.

6:41 am - Baby cries wanting to eat. Nurse. Burp. Change. Repeat.

7:30 am - Toddler: "More can-cakes mom?" Warm up more pancakes.

8:00 am - Baby cries wanting to eat. Nurse. Burp. Change. Repeat.

8:30 am - Toddler makes a mess. Ask toddler to clean up mess. Toddler makes a new mess. Ask toddler to clean up mess. Toddler runs away into room where baby is sleeping on the bed. Toddler climbs onto bed and pounces on baby. Nearly lose it. Put toddler in time out in crib. Consider leaving him in there all day.

8:35 am - Baby back asleep. Talk to toddler about why he is timeout. He demonstrates how he jumped on baby. As he jumps, his lip runs into the crib railing. Bloody lip. Fun morning. 

9:00 am - Work on laundry. Toddler "helps." Clean up laundry...

9:30 am - Baby cries wanting to eat. Nurse. Burp. Change. Repeat. And repeat again. Fussy baby. Toddler suggests singing "Baby Beluga" to the baby to help him stop crying. It works!...for two minutes. Fussy baby. 

10:00 am - Hold baby while bouncing on exercise ball while playing soccer with toddler. 

10:10 am - Baby calms and falls asleep. Lay baby down.

10:15 am - Toddler poops.

10:20 am - Baby cries again. Nurse back to sleep.

10:30 am - Work on laundry. Toddler "helps" again. Clean up laundry. 

11:00 am - Make lunch. Eat lunch.

11:40 am - Baby cries again. Nurse. Burp. Change. Falls asleep.

12:20 pm - Toddler poops. Change.

12:30 pm - Wrestle toddler to sleep.

12:40 pm - Both boys sleep. Peace.

12:50 pm - Baby cries again...

Nearly 12 hours of busyness and yet we've gotten nowhere. No one has bathed/showered/or gotten dressed for the day. And we haven't made it out of the house. And the laundry is still not done. I feel like a hamster on a wheel-moving non-stop but not getting anywhere.

At least we've all eaten today. Small victories...

Baby Coming Soon

I'll start this post with a very poor-quality, haggard-looking picture of me at 34-35ish(?) weeks. 

As of today, I am 35 weeks and 5 days. The haggard part is realistic (so is the very dirty mirror). It has been a long and hard pregnancy. 

I started having preterm labor scares at 16ish weeks. It continued to get worse and starting around 20 weeks, I was instructed to "take it easy" (because of the frequency of my contractions, that basically meant I had to stay down much of the time) and they started me on some real fun drugs. I started getting weekly shots of Alpha Hydroxy Progesterone, which were actually not as bad as I expected and the nurse conveniently came to my house each week. I also have to take 20 mg of Nifedipine 3 times a day. The Nifedipine is awful. It makes me feel dizzy and feverish, my heart race, and my whole body feel fatigued. Luckily, I've started to build up a tolerance to it, so it doesn't make me feel as sick anymore but the first couple months of that were not much fun. 

Most people think that the worst part of all this would be the boredom/feeling stir-crazy, but for me, the worst part has been all the pain. I.am.over.it. Imagine going into labor almost everyday for 20 weeks straight. And, when you're not having contractions, imagine menstrual cramps for months. The medication helps them to slow down/not be quite as intense, but I am a wuss when it comes to any level of discomfort. And I'm not nice when I don't feel good, so I feel bad for everyone around me-especially Scott. I can complain like its my job!

We are so blessed to have family nearby to help. Our moms and sisters have been taking turns watching London each day so that I can rest. I don't think I could ever adequately express how grateful I am to them and how much I have appreciated all the help!!! 

Yesterday, at my doctor's appointment, he told me that I could stop taking the medication this Thursday and that I didn't need any more shots. Hallelujah! I can see the light! As of yesterday, I was dilated to 2 cm, 80% effaced. We can't wait for this little guy to come! Hopefully its sooner rather than later. How hilarious/not-funny-at-all, would it be if he came full term at 40 weeks?

Loving London

London is 2 years and 4 months old. I am LOVING this age! He is so much fun and talks a ton! It is so fun watching him grow and hearing the funny phrases he picks up.

Some of my favorites:
"Silly Goose"
"Nice and coyeez mom?" as he piles blankets and pillows on me (translation: nice and cozy)
"Blast off to the Moon!"
Runs around the house while holding these plastic wheels on his chest yelling: "Creature Power Suits!" (from one of his favorite shows-Wild Kratts)
Runs around with dad's shirts tied around his neck as a cape yelling: "Supa-heros!"
Runs around with a Spider Man mask on yelling: "Spida-Man!" (yeah...there's lots of running around)
"Buzz Hight-Hight...To infinity and beyond!"
"Just kidding!"
"I got a shot today" (I get shots once a week, and apparently he thinks he does too...)
L: "You sick mom?" M: "Yeah, I'm not feeling good." L: "Oh, sowwy mom." And then he will give me a big hug and kiss. (I am down a lot in pain with contractions or sick from my medication and he has been very sweet to me through it all.)
"Guess what mom?"
"S-S-U" (translation: ASU) He totally knows ASU colors/emblems and will pick them out anywhere.
For awhile, he used to say "I wove we" instead of "I love you" but just recently, he has started to say "I love you" - I love hearing that.

And my not-so-favorite:
"Sucks man" (And sometimes the "s" sounds more like an "f" sound...thanks Scott for teaching him that.)

He is also getting better at singing along to his favorite songs, which include:
"Baby Beluga"
"Tonight You Belong to Me"
"Twinkle Twinkle Little Star"
"A-B-Cs"
"1-2 Buckle My Shoe..."
"Old MacDonald"
"Hakuna Matata"

He is very cuddly still and loves to give big kisses. He is pretty good at entertaining himself for long periods of time with his toys. He loves watching shows such as Curious George, Handy Manny, Wild Kratts, and Air Bud or random videos on Youtube such as Toy Story clips, nursery songs, or shows with cars in it. He has a plastic car that he can sit and push himself around on that he calls his "motacycle". He has a plastic tool set that he loves to fix things with. He also likes to check me out with his doctor kit. His favorite toys are his cars/boats/planes. He will follow me from room to room, driving his little cars all around the furniture. If it was up to him, he would live on chocolate Luna Bars...but I can't say I blame him-they are just so good. He is a good helper and likes to help me with the laundry and emptying the dishwasher and other various tasks. I am excited to see how he will interact with his new baby brother coming soon. He has a stuffed owl that he keeps wrapped in a blanket and calls "Baby Owl" that we've been using to practice. He is very sweet to Baby Owl and likes to put him down for a nap and then says to me "Shhh, Baby Owl Sleeping, Quiet."

I love my London!

Gettin' Real

London was a sleepy head the other day, and I finally got a chance to do a little crafting for the first time in a long time. I covered cardboard boxes with fabric to make some paper organizers for my desk. It was fun. In the meantime, I left a crock pot of leftover beef juices rot for days, until this morning, when I found little maggots crawling out of it. Excuse me while I vomit. I adorned my haz mat suit and wrecked havoc on the creatures with vengeance, using nearly every cleaner I own in the process. I know. GROSS.

London's First (and Hopefully Last) Ride in a Firetruck

This Friday, London was sick with a runny nose, low-grade fever, and also started having these involuntary jerks of his arms throughout the day. He wanted to be held all day and I could tell he was pretty miserable. Saturday, he was still sick and the jerks were getting a little stronger/more prolonged. Around one pm, he went into a full-blown seizure that lasted over 5 minutes long. It was one of the worst moments in my life. We called 9-1-1 and two fire trucks showed up within minutes. They checked him out, administered a sedative, then drove us (London and I, Scott had to meet us there) to Cardon's Children emergency section at Banner Desert Hospital. As we checked in, the sedative started to kick in, and London gave the fireman a very loopy grin. It got us all laughing.

Back at our house, London's temperature had gone from 100 degrees 30 minutes before the seizure, to 101.6 by the time the firemen took his temperature. By the time we arrived at the hospital, his temperature had risen to 104. The nurse quickly took his vitals, set him up to all these monitors, then administered Motrin to bring the fever down. He was very upset and somewhat out of it still. It took a long time to calm him down, but eventually the Motrin kicked in and he fell asleep in my arms. Scott finally made it into the room and we waited (forever) to meet with the doctor. The doctor was from Nigeria and had a thick accent. He asked us some questions, then said that because his fever was so high, they were going to do some blood work to see if he had a bacterial infection. My favorite part of this doctor's visit is when he said in his Nigerian accent, "He is a very cool boy!" as he pinched London's cheek. London just stared him down, as he did all the nurses that came in throughout our time there.

Though I got him to smile for a little while, most of the day involved lots of tears and sad faces.

After waiting (forever again...probably at least an hour) our busy nurse finally got a chance to come get a urine and blood sample from London. I tried to comfort him as one nurse helped hold him down and the other nurse inserted a catheter to collect the urine sample. It was not a fun experience for London. Then, they had to hold him down again as they inserted the IV, took a blood sample and then hooked him up to a fluid drip (luckily, they already numbed the area, London just did not like being held still). After that ordeal was over, I bounced London in my arms until he calmed down. Unfortunately, the minute he calmed down, was the minute he discovered his very-taped, robotic-looking IV hand. He freaked out and started crying all over again, trying to bite and rip the thing off his hand. Luckily, I was able to prevent him from ripping it off, and got him to finally fall back asleep.

After waiting another eternity (waiting in a room for 5 hours with a 1 year old = torture), the nurse came in to tell us that they got the results back from the lab, that they looked good, and that the doctor would be in shortly. The doctor that came in this time had an accent that sounded like he may be from South America or something like that. He said that London did not have a bacterial infection, that it was probably viral, that he had a febrile seizure-which is fairly common and usually not too harmful. We just needed to try to keep his fever down to prevent them from happening again.

This picture doesn't do the club-IV-hand or all the wires justice.
That poor guy was hooked up to so many different things. 

Six + hours later, we finally left the hospital with a very grumpy baby (I don't blame him) and two very tired/drained parents. That night was rough, with me up all night worrying about keeping him cool and keeping his fever down. As if I wasn't enough of a worried, freaked out parent already....

Right around this time of year last year, I was at Banner Gateway hospital, getting ready to deliver London. He turns one tomorrow and I think he just wanted to celebrate this time of year in a place similar to where it all began...a Banner hospital. I sure hope that these hospital visits do not become a yearly tradition for the Cardons!

Being a Mom Pt. 2

Awhile back, I wrote about hardships of being a mom. And a lot of days/nearly every day, it still is hard. But, it is also really great and filled with plenty of happy times too:

Like when you're having a nice, little picnic at the park and your happy, munching, little guy decides to give you a big, fat hug for no reason at all.

Or those times you're washing him off in the shower and he decides to lay his wet, little head on your shoulder and then look up at you with the sweetest, smiling, dripping eyes.
And there's those times he chucks his bottle across the room in the night, only to throw his pudgy, little arms around your neck and fall fast asleep in a second.
And there's times that he lets you hold him while he drinks his milk, and his grimy fingers touch every part of your face, pull your eyelashes, poke your eyes, in your mouth, as if he's a lost boy and you're an old Peter Pan.
Or when you find yourself dancing and spinning around the house with your babe in your arms and he's laughing his little head off.

And OH that Laugh! Is anything better?! Nope. Not really.

Nine...ish Months

As always, I'm a little [lot] late on the monthly milestone post. London was officially 9 months old two weeks ago, on the 14th. He is so fun!

Army Crawls with One Leg. Into Everything. Loves to play peek-a-boo & chase.