Noah has this thing with candles. Actually, it's more like he has a thing for candle wax. I have to keep all candles above his reach, otherwise he runs off with it and proceeds to pick at the wax. Little tiny blobs of candle wax all over the floor. Ever tried to vacuum candle wax? It doesn't work. And I know when he's found one, because I'll suddenly get a really strong wift of "Winter" coming from his room. I mean... at least he smells good.
Like Christmas.
Silver lining.
***
Bath time is Noah's favorite. Always has been. The other night, Brad and I were talking in our room, while Noah was playing in the tub. We were within eye sight, like 5 ft away. I stop mid-sentence at the sound I just heard coming from the bathroom. Water splatting on a dry floor. Yes. Little Man decided to take his cup (that we use to rinse his hair) and pour water ALL OVER THE FLOOR. We're not talking about a little bit either. It was like he dumped the entire contents of the bath tub onto the floor. I grabbed all the towels we own, while Brad ran downstairs to make sure it didn't leak into the ceiling.
It did.
It was raining out of our vent, onto our dining room floor, for a good 10 minutes.
Good times.
***
Noah loves theme songs. I can't tell you how many times I've listened to the theme song to Arthur, Super Why, Sid the Science Kid, etc (on the iPad). Over and over.
However, if you want a good idea of Noah's personality? Go watch the opening to Daniel Tiger's Neighborhood. I swear that entire song wraps up who he is and how he thinks. It's adorable, and it makes him happy.
***
Noah likes to play in my makeup drawer. He doesn't actually apply any of the makeup on. Instead, he takes all the items he thinks are cool looking. Things like my eyelash curler, big brush, tweezers.
My eyelash curler has been missing for over a week now.
Stinker.
***
We got a knock on our door the other day from a surveyor. Apparently, the people located diagonally behind us are selling their house. The surveyor informed Brad that our fence was a foot over the property line. The stupid part about this is that our HOA sent someone out to check this exact issue before we built it. Turns out the guy wasn't a professional. The surveyor wasn't being a butt about it. I mean, the people selling their house have a fence up already, so we're not really intruding on their yard. He just wanted to let us know. Brad had him mark our yard, and he's been working on moving the back wall ever since.
Since our electric fence is down, and the back wall to our fence is down, this leaves me in a tad bit of a predicament with the dogs. I can't take them on walks, not with Noah. Brad works 14 hour shifts, and we see him for maybe an hour a day. So it's not like there's much time for him to either.
Flash (the Lab) isn't fixed. Dodger (the Golden) is. Logically, you'd think we'd have to worry about Flash running off, right? Wrong. Dodger has wandered out of our yard like 4 times already. He's a sneaky thing. I watch them from the window when I let them out. I turn away for 30 seconds and the dog disappears. Drives me bananas.
I always know when he's run off, because Flash is the biggest tattletail. He comes up to the back door, pointing in a certain direction and looking all worried. I swear he's the smartest dog ever.
The plus side is that Dodger always comes back. I caught him twice, and he was just wandering around the neighbors' yards, visiting doggy friends. The other times happened at night before I went to bed, and I couldn't leave Noah to go searching for him (also, he's impossible to find at night...).
I'm so looking forward to having our fence back.
Showing posts with label Parental Freak Outs. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Parental Freak Outs. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 12, 2013
Monday, January 21, 2013
decluttering my head
I'm so out of my workout groove. I quit running after the miscarriage, and I obviously just lost all motivation. Then the holidays hit, and frankly, it seemed like a lost cause. I would've just been working out as an excuse to eat food. And let's face it, Christmas only comes once a year, and there's no way in H-E-doublehockeystick that I'm gonna pass up my aunt's sweet potato casserole (don't let the name fool you... it's loaded with butter and sugar... and oh-so-good).
But all that's over now. Pretty sure the lady lumps I've acquired aren't quite what Fergie was referring to, so I hopped back on the treadmill a few days ago for the first time. And I swear I thought I was going to die. The strength is there, but the endurance? Eh, notsomuch. My sides were cramping, and I only went like 2 miles. I guess that's not bad, but I was hoping for more. I'm an overachiever that way I guess.
***
I finally jumped on the Downton Abbey bandwagon. I spent a couple days catching up on past seasons, and by the end of it, I was worried I was going to start accidentally speaking in a British accent. Except with a Southern twang. I'm sure that would've been super hot.
The show is addictive and really good. The only down side is that it stresses me out. That's an awful lot of drama to throw into one show. I seriously can't watch it before bed, because it makes me all anxious.
***
If you were following the news/weather at all last week, you probably heard about our big fat blizzard we had (#sarcasmfont). I love it when it snows. We rarely ever get any, so come January, most Southerners get all excited if there's even the slightest chance of some.
Yeah. Our area got a few flurries, but that was it.
Womp, womp.
(source unknown)
And while we're on the subject, I'd like to get something off my chest.
Northern and western transplants to our area like to give us a really hard time about our snow excitement. I saw a few calling us "idiots". But frankly, it's usually the transplants that my brother spends all day hauling out of ditches every time it snows. They figure they're super experienced and can drive on slush-covered roads.
If they saw our one little makeshift snow plow? They may understand why most of us stock up on groceries and refuse to come out of the house for two days. ;)
***
You know how most toddlers get really quiet, and that's how you know they're up to something? Well, I think we finally hit that stage with Noah.
He's usually pretty chill, so when he got quiet last week, I assumed he was just playing in his room. I went to go check on him, and to my horror, I walked in to a poop fest. Noah wanted to tap into his inner artist, but since he couldn't get to his paint or crayons, he got resourceful.
It was all over him, smeared into the carpet, on his bedroom door...
He's never done anything like that before (and it doesn't really have anything to do with autism. I've heard of typical kids doing this too). I guess there's a first time for everything, but I'm hoping there's a LAST time for everything too.
***
So remember Noah's Mini Cooper my dad and stepmom got him for Christmas? Well, our driveway isn't really ideal, since it's kind of short and goes to the road. I decided to take it over to my dad's and let Noah test drive it there.
He really liked riding around in it, but he hasn't quite gotten the hang of steering yet. He knows how to make it stop and go, but he's rather go hands-free and chill as he cruises.
Cracked us up.
Happy Monday (and MLK Day)!
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Life Lately.
Right now, I'm taking advantage of a few minutes to myself and writing. Well, sort of. Obama and Mitt are in the other room, going back and forth with their respective ideas. I'm not much of a debate watcher. I'm listening, and of course I believe in getting all of the facts (as hard as that may be...) in order to make an informed decision when voting. It's not the information overload that I don't like. I can handle that.
I don't like conflict. Debates make me nervous and antsy. And when one guy makes a great point, while simultaneously putting the other guy's ideas down, it just makes me want to give the one in question a hug. Tell them they're doing a good job, as if they're a 5 year old in a school play. That if it were me, I would've wet my pants by now.
***
You know you've taken too long to update the blog when it still says "summer 2012" at the top and people are emailing to make sure you're okay. haha.
Honestly? I'm just a little overwhelmed with life right now.
I have a lot going on.... nothing crazy, but enough to stress me out and keep me busy.
I feel like I have 20 million projects going on, and instead of getting any of them done, I'd much rather curl up in bed and watch cheesy, girly movies for the rest of the week. Pretend those projects don't exist.
As for the lack of blogging? Besides being busy, I'm feeling a little less-than-inspired lately. As if I'm just creatively spent. Not that my writing is all that magical normally. But I sit down to write.... and blank.
So here I go, attempting to formulate some sort of cohesive thought.
***
Work is going well. I've had a few photoshoots recently, which makes me happy. Especially when I see the clients happy. But I also see how far I have left to go, when it comes to growing. And that thought alone? Totally overwhelms me. As if I'll never get there. As if I don't deserve to even be doing what I'm doing. It's just negative thoughts that I keep having to ignore. Remind myself that the only one I need to compare myself to is me.
Noah is doing amazingly well. I'll go more into it in another post, but the strides he's made in the last month have been so awesome to see. I thank his OT all the time for being so wonderful. God couldn't have given him a more perfect therapist.
His public school OT, though? I'm having a really hard time trying to decide how to handle the situation.
Part of his IEP is that they want him to eventually copy block patterns. Right now, though, he's definitely not there yet. This goal is for June of 2013, and she's expecting him to do it now. She speaks to him like he's an 8 year old, with lots of verbiage and descriptive words. Noah is nonverbal. He responds best to 2-3 word phrases. Too many words, and he completely ignores everything you're saying. She brings zero toddler toys. All of her toys are boring to him, and she doesn't understand why he wants to run around towards the end of the session (even though I've explained his sensory needs and that he uses movement as an escape when he's overwhelmed). Last time, she attempted to make him stop. First by repeating, "Stop running. Stop running" over and over (not sure if Noah even knew she was talking to him. lol). Then by physically stopping him. His regular OT? She gets that he needs small breaks. That he needs regular sensory input, and that moving around solves that for him. Heck, ALL of his other therapists get that.
When Noah dropped a couple of the blocks, she told him, "Noah I need you to pick up those blocks before we do something else. Pick up the blocks..." She then holds out the bag of blocks for him to put the others in. He thought she was offering more blocks to him, and every time he would reach for more in the bag, she would shut it on him. He began to get very frustrated, and had I not stepped in, he would've spiraled quickly. I swooped in, put one of the blocks from the floor in his hand, and said, "Clean up". He then understood and did what she wanted.
But see... I shouldn't have to do that. She should know Noah's level of communication. She should know that, even though the goal is to get him to respond to adult directions, he's not THERE yet. And that you don't get there immediately. You take baby steps. Otherwise the therapy is going to be completely useless once Noah sees it as a negative experience.
Later when she asked him to clean up, she put the bag next to a table. When he leaned over, he hit his head pretty hard on the edge of the table. With tears in his eyes, he looked to her for comfort. Her response? "Oh, you're fine." No hug or anything. Maybe this is the momma bear in me, but that was a huge moment for her to gain some sort of relationship and trust with Noah. And instead, she blew it off as no big deal.
The other therapists? He'll climb in their laps and play with them. This particular one, he pretty much ignores or has zero relationship with her.
I've talked to his Special Ed teacher, his SLP, his private OT, and his former IE coordinator. All of them agree that I need to say something. That she needs to start small with him, bring toys that he'll enjoy, and make it a positive experience. I'm just trying to figure out how to explain what Noah needs without acting like an overprotective jerk.
The thing is? I feel like I keep having to step in and explain how to handle Noah. Explain his sensory needs, his limited language, and what he responds best to. I shouldn't have to do that. Not after it's all written in his IEP and after she's had several sessions to get to know him. Had I not been in the room for these therapies, he would've spiraled quickly and had no idea what she wanted from him.
So this has been weighing on my heart a lot lately. I think she's just used to working with older kids, not toddlers. Noah JUST turned three. Boring beige blocks and a squiggly pen just aren't going to be motivating enough for him. I've been advised to bring our own toys next time and to make suggestions on how to help Noah most effectively.
I don't have a problem sticking up for my kid. I just want to do it in a way that doesn't offend her.
And that's what's been preventing me from writing happy posts. I'm trying to avoid being a total downer. But yeah. This is where my head and heart have been.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to curl up on the couch and watch a Gilmore Girls rerun (okay not really. But I would like to...). :)
I don't like conflict. Debates make me nervous and antsy. And when one guy makes a great point, while simultaneously putting the other guy's ideas down, it just makes me want to give the one in question a hug. Tell them they're doing a good job, as if they're a 5 year old in a school play. That if it were me, I would've wet my pants by now.
***
You know you've taken too long to update the blog when it still says "summer 2012" at the top and people are emailing to make sure you're okay. haha.
Honestly? I'm just a little overwhelmed with life right now.
I have a lot going on.... nothing crazy, but enough to stress me out and keep me busy.
I feel like I have 20 million projects going on, and instead of getting any of them done, I'd much rather curl up in bed and watch cheesy, girly movies for the rest of the week. Pretend those projects don't exist.
As for the lack of blogging? Besides being busy, I'm feeling a little less-than-inspired lately. As if I'm just creatively spent. Not that my writing is all that magical normally. But I sit down to write.... and blank.
So here I go, attempting to formulate some sort of cohesive thought.
***
Work is going well. I've had a few photoshoots recently, which makes me happy. Especially when I see the clients happy. But I also see how far I have left to go, when it comes to growing. And that thought alone? Totally overwhelms me. As if I'll never get there. As if I don't deserve to even be doing what I'm doing. It's just negative thoughts that I keep having to ignore. Remind myself that the only one I need to compare myself to is me.
Noah is doing amazingly well. I'll go more into it in another post, but the strides he's made in the last month have been so awesome to see. I thank his OT all the time for being so wonderful. God couldn't have given him a more perfect therapist.
His public school OT, though? I'm having a really hard time trying to decide how to handle the situation.
Part of his IEP is that they want him to eventually copy block patterns. Right now, though, he's definitely not there yet. This goal is for June of 2013, and she's expecting him to do it now. She speaks to him like he's an 8 year old, with lots of verbiage and descriptive words. Noah is nonverbal. He responds best to 2-3 word phrases. Too many words, and he completely ignores everything you're saying. She brings zero toddler toys. All of her toys are boring to him, and she doesn't understand why he wants to run around towards the end of the session (even though I've explained his sensory needs and that he uses movement as an escape when he's overwhelmed). Last time, she attempted to make him stop. First by repeating, "Stop running. Stop running" over and over (not sure if Noah even knew she was talking to him. lol). Then by physically stopping him. His regular OT? She gets that he needs small breaks. That he needs regular sensory input, and that moving around solves that for him. Heck, ALL of his other therapists get that.
When Noah dropped a couple of the blocks, she told him, "Noah I need you to pick up those blocks before we do something else. Pick up the blocks..." She then holds out the bag of blocks for him to put the others in. He thought she was offering more blocks to him, and every time he would reach for more in the bag, she would shut it on him. He began to get very frustrated, and had I not stepped in, he would've spiraled quickly. I swooped in, put one of the blocks from the floor in his hand, and said, "Clean up". He then understood and did what she wanted.
But see... I shouldn't have to do that. She should know Noah's level of communication. She should know that, even though the goal is to get him to respond to adult directions, he's not THERE yet. And that you don't get there immediately. You take baby steps. Otherwise the therapy is going to be completely useless once Noah sees it as a negative experience.
Later when she asked him to clean up, she put the bag next to a table. When he leaned over, he hit his head pretty hard on the edge of the table. With tears in his eyes, he looked to her for comfort. Her response? "Oh, you're fine." No hug or anything. Maybe this is the momma bear in me, but that was a huge moment for her to gain some sort of relationship and trust with Noah. And instead, she blew it off as no big deal.
The other therapists? He'll climb in their laps and play with them. This particular one, he pretty much ignores or has zero relationship with her.
I've talked to his Special Ed teacher, his SLP, his private OT, and his former IE coordinator. All of them agree that I need to say something. That she needs to start small with him, bring toys that he'll enjoy, and make it a positive experience. I'm just trying to figure out how to explain what Noah needs without acting like an overprotective jerk.
The thing is? I feel like I keep having to step in and explain how to handle Noah. Explain his sensory needs, his limited language, and what he responds best to. I shouldn't have to do that. Not after it's all written in his IEP and after she's had several sessions to get to know him. Had I not been in the room for these therapies, he would've spiraled quickly and had no idea what she wanted from him.
So this has been weighing on my heart a lot lately. I think she's just used to working with older kids, not toddlers. Noah JUST turned three. Boring beige blocks and a squiggly pen just aren't going to be motivating enough for him. I've been advised to bring our own toys next time and to make suggestions on how to help Noah most effectively.
I don't have a problem sticking up for my kid. I just want to do it in a way that doesn't offend her.
And that's what's been preventing me from writing happy posts. I'm trying to avoid being a total downer. But yeah. This is where my head and heart have been.
Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to curl up on the couch and watch a Gilmore Girls rerun (okay not really. But I would like to...). :)
Monday, August 27, 2012
3 yr well check... (aka. where noah gets another label)
Last night, I sat down to blog and couldn't come up with anything great. While I have plenty to write about, I just wasn't "feeling it". The content was there. The motivation and inspiration? Notsomuch.
However, after Noah's 3 yr well check today, I suddenly have the urge to type until the keys fall off. Everything went well. His doctor asked about his progress, therapies, etc. He did the reflex check, listened to his heart, and all that routine stuff. The nurse pricked his finger, which was super sad. He looked at her like, "WHY did you DO that???" Like she was his best friend, then took his favorite toy away. It was awful.
Anyway, the pediatrician and I talked about his sleep issues (which are getting much better, btw), and other concerns.
Then he proceeded to tell me that Noah falls in the category of "obese".
I'm pretty sure the look on my face was priceless.
While Noah has never been skinny, I know what obese is... and he ain't it!
His doctor then went into his lectures about Noah's diet. It went a little something like this...
Dr: "Now you'll want to cut back on anything with caffeine: tea, soda, chocolate..."
Me: "He doesn't have any of those things. He doesn't even drink juice."
Dr: "Well, you have to be careful. Sometimes grandparents can be sneaky and give them things they aren't supposed to have..."
Me: "I don't think that's a problem. I didn't have a cupcake until I was 21 (obviously an exaggeration, but I think I made my point clear)."
Dr: "Make sure he gets at least an hour of active playtime, either outside or some activity indoors when the weather is bad."
Me: "He jumps on the trampoline outside and plays on his swingset. We also have a mini-trampoline that he jumps on throughout the day indoors. When the weather is bad, we go to Monkey Joe's where he jumps and climbs the whole time. He's constantly running."
Dr: "Make sure to limit his screen time to 2 hours a day (which I thought that was a bit much)."
Me: "Even when the tv is on, he's usually busy doing something else."
Dr: "Limit his milk intake to 3 a day, which includes milk, cheese, yogurt..."
Me: "He won't eat any of those. I can't even get him to drink milk right now."
Dr: "Try to get at least 5 fruits and veggies in him a day. I know his diet is pretty limited, so just do the best you can."
So basically, every piece of diet/exercise advice he had was completely useless for Noah's case.
His cholesterol, blood sugar, and blood pressure are all excellent. I know my kid. He's not some slug that sits around all day, watching tv, and eating junk food. We're active. Do we have our sluggish days where I let him veg out on chips (which are always baked) and watch as much Curious George as he wants? Of course! But that's not our normal day. Like right now, as I'm typing this, Thomas & Friends is on the tv, but he's not paying it any attention. He's too busy playing with his Thomas playset.
Here's a picture from last night at his birthday dinner at my mom's house, modeling the new adidas outfit his Aunt Madison gave him.
Oh yeah. Totally obese. *rolls eyes*
You know, I tend to pride myself on the fact that I stay pretty laid-back about things. But I swear, if one more person over-analyzes my kid and gives me MORE to worry about, I just might lose it. lol.
However, after Noah's 3 yr well check today, I suddenly have the urge to type until the keys fall off. Everything went well. His doctor asked about his progress, therapies, etc. He did the reflex check, listened to his heart, and all that routine stuff. The nurse pricked his finger, which was super sad. He looked at her like, "WHY did you DO that???" Like she was his best friend, then took his favorite toy away. It was awful.
Anyway, the pediatrician and I talked about his sleep issues (which are getting much better, btw), and other concerns.
Then he proceeded to tell me that Noah falls in the category of "obese".
I'm pretty sure the look on my face was priceless.
While Noah has never been skinny, I know what obese is... and he ain't it!
His doctor then went into his lectures about Noah's diet. It went a little something like this...
Dr: "Now you'll want to cut back on anything with caffeine: tea, soda, chocolate..."
Me: "He doesn't have any of those things. He doesn't even drink juice."
Dr: "Well, you have to be careful. Sometimes grandparents can be sneaky and give them things they aren't supposed to have..."
Me: "I don't think that's a problem. I didn't have a cupcake until I was 21 (obviously an exaggeration, but I think I made my point clear)."
Dr: "Make sure he gets at least an hour of active playtime, either outside or some activity indoors when the weather is bad."
Me: "He jumps on the trampoline outside and plays on his swingset. We also have a mini-trampoline that he jumps on throughout the day indoors. When the weather is bad, we go to Monkey Joe's where he jumps and climbs the whole time. He's constantly running."
Dr: "Make sure to limit his screen time to 2 hours a day (which I thought that was a bit much)."
Me: "Even when the tv is on, he's usually busy doing something else."
Dr: "Limit his milk intake to 3 a day, which includes milk, cheese, yogurt..."
Me: "He won't eat any of those. I can't even get him to drink milk right now."
Dr: "Try to get at least 5 fruits and veggies in him a day. I know his diet is pretty limited, so just do the best you can."
So basically, every piece of diet/exercise advice he had was completely useless for Noah's case.
His cholesterol, blood sugar, and blood pressure are all excellent. I know my kid. He's not some slug that sits around all day, watching tv, and eating junk food. We're active. Do we have our sluggish days where I let him veg out on chips (which are always baked) and watch as much Curious George as he wants? Of course! But that's not our normal day. Like right now, as I'm typing this, Thomas & Friends is on the tv, but he's not paying it any attention. He's too busy playing with his Thomas playset.
Here's a picture from last night at his birthday dinner at my mom's house, modeling the new adidas outfit his Aunt Madison gave him.
Oh yeah. Totally obese. *rolls eyes*
You know, I tend to pride myself on the fact that I stay pretty laid-back about things. But I swear, if one more person over-analyzes my kid and gives me MORE to worry about, I just might lose it. lol.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Noah's Diet
So you probably noticed in Noah's birthday pictures that there was a very sugary, gluten-filled Thomas cake.
Here's the story and where we are now...
We spent about two weeks going gluten and casein free, cold turkey. The first few days went pretty well. He didn't want hardly any of the bread products we offered him, but I figured it'd take some adjusting.
By the end of the 2nd week, Noah was living off of potato chips. Granted, they were all natural and baked, but still. Not ideal. He would randomly eat an apple, but that was it.
He became very lethargic, refusing to do anything but lay on the couch. He slept a lot, and just didn't act like himself at all. I thought maybe it was just a bug, but he had no other symptoms. No fever, no upset tummy, no runny nose... nothing. After the fourth day of this, I was getting worried.
My mommy-brain panicked. He wasn't getting any nutrition at all, so I had to make a decision. Either I keep going and deprive his body of nutrients that he needs to develop correctly, or to slowly introduce wheat and dairy back into his diet and live with a few quirks, in hopes that he would be willing to eat other foods again.
I do believe in the brain-gut correlation. There was a difference in how he acted when he was off the gluten. His stimming decreased, and he was more engaged with us. The dairy doesn't seem to affect him as severely, if at all. However, I decided I wasn't willing to sacrifice his nutritional health so that he would appear more typical.
We introduced the gluten back into his diet very slowly, starting with a whole wheat PB&J sandwich. There really wasn't a drastic difference in his behavior.
What I did notice though was whenever he has a high-fat/high-sugar food, his symptoms get more severe. He has never had a problem digesting gluten or dairy products, although I still think it may affect him slightly. However, I think what really affects him (feel free to give me a big, resounding "DUH") is sugar and bad fats.
As of right now, he's still refusing to eat anything remotely healthy, which is really making me worry. The boy didn't poop for three days! I wouldn't care so much if I could get him to take some vitamins. But he doesn't like the texture of fruit snacks, so the gummy kind are out. And frankly, anything new that I introduce is met with a gross face. If I manage to get it in his mouth, he spits it back out. In a desperate attempt, I bought the liquid poly-vi-sol kind, but honestly, that stuff makes me gag just smelling it. Noah almost threw up when I gave it to him, and I don't blame him. It'd be so much easier if he'd just eat his fruits and veggies again, foods I know he loves! Remember the popsicles he was obsessed with? I considered it a success that he ate half of one the other day. The good news is that I was talking with a friend of mine yesterday who uses a liquid vitamin for her toddler that actually tastes good (and it's organic!). Totally going to check that out.
So yeah. That's where we are.
Any suggestions are welcome. :)
Here's the story and where we are now...
We spent about two weeks going gluten and casein free, cold turkey. The first few days went pretty well. He didn't want hardly any of the bread products we offered him, but I figured it'd take some adjusting.
By the end of the 2nd week, Noah was living off of potato chips. Granted, they were all natural and baked, but still. Not ideal. He would randomly eat an apple, but that was it.
He became very lethargic, refusing to do anything but lay on the couch. He slept a lot, and just didn't act like himself at all. I thought maybe it was just a bug, but he had no other symptoms. No fever, no upset tummy, no runny nose... nothing. After the fourth day of this, I was getting worried.
My mommy-brain panicked. He wasn't getting any nutrition at all, so I had to make a decision. Either I keep going and deprive his body of nutrients that he needs to develop correctly, or to slowly introduce wheat and dairy back into his diet and live with a few quirks, in hopes that he would be willing to eat other foods again.
I do believe in the brain-gut correlation. There was a difference in how he acted when he was off the gluten. His stimming decreased, and he was more engaged with us. The dairy doesn't seem to affect him as severely, if at all. However, I decided I wasn't willing to sacrifice his nutritional health so that he would appear more typical.
We introduced the gluten back into his diet very slowly, starting with a whole wheat PB&J sandwich. There really wasn't a drastic difference in his behavior.
What I did notice though was whenever he has a high-fat/high-sugar food, his symptoms get more severe. He has never had a problem digesting gluten or dairy products, although I still think it may affect him slightly. However, I think what really affects him (feel free to give me a big, resounding "DUH") is sugar and bad fats.
As of right now, he's still refusing to eat anything remotely healthy, which is really making me worry. The boy didn't poop for three days! I wouldn't care so much if I could get him to take some vitamins. But he doesn't like the texture of fruit snacks, so the gummy kind are out. And frankly, anything new that I introduce is met with a gross face. If I manage to get it in his mouth, he spits it back out. In a desperate attempt, I bought the liquid poly-vi-sol kind, but honestly, that stuff makes me gag just smelling it. Noah almost threw up when I gave it to him, and I don't blame him. It'd be so much easier if he'd just eat his fruits and veggies again, foods I know he loves! Remember the popsicles he was obsessed with? I considered it a success that he ate half of one the other day. The good news is that I was talking with a friend of mine yesterday who uses a liquid vitamin for her toddler that actually tastes good (and it's organic!). Totally going to check that out.
So yeah. That's where we are.
Any suggestions are welcome. :)
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
I declare war.
Yesterday, Noah and I were hanging out in the back yard. Me, doing some old school blogging (writing with a pen and paper). Noah, goofing off and doing whatever most toddlers do outside.
I heard him make a weird noise and looked up. He wasn't crying but was looking at me with a weird look. He started running towards me with his hands held out at me. I immediately jumped up and met him halfway.
Ants.
Ants everywhere. He had grabbed what he thought was two fist fulls of dirt. Turns out, he grabbed two fist fulls of a newly formed ant colony. They were crawling all over his hands and biting the daylights out of him. He started whimpering as I frantically swiped them off and stripped him down in the back yard.
Our area is notorious for ants. The kind that don't go away. You think you've killed them, but NO. They just move. I make it a habit to inspect for them while Noah's out. This hill wasn't even a hill yet.
These boogers messed with the wrong family.
After taking care of Noah, I headed out with a gallon of straight bleach. I bleach bombed those suckers, and their neighbors too. And I don't care what anyone has to say about "they were just defending their homes, protecting themselves, blahblahblah". They bit my kid. Mercilessly. All's fair in this war now.
As I typically do when Noah's had a rough time, gets hurt, etc. I do something fun to make up for it. Something special to balance the day out.
Remember those St Patty's Day cupcakes we made? Well, they came in handy.
I handed him the container and let him at it. No worries, he didn't get a tummy ache. He doesn't actually eat the whole cupcake. He's like his momma and prefers the frosting.
So what cures the sting of ant bites?
Double fisting cupcakes.
What else helps?
Letting him do something I'm very consistent about in this parenting thing. No feet on the table.
At this point? I figured I'd be a cool mom and just let him do whatever. I'll go back to being tough when his hands aren't hurting anymore.
I heard him make a weird noise and looked up. He wasn't crying but was looking at me with a weird look. He started running towards me with his hands held out at me. I immediately jumped up and met him halfway.
Ants.
Ants everywhere. He had grabbed what he thought was two fist fulls of dirt. Turns out, he grabbed two fist fulls of a newly formed ant colony. They were crawling all over his hands and biting the daylights out of him. He started whimpering as I frantically swiped them off and stripped him down in the back yard.
Our area is notorious for ants. The kind that don't go away. You think you've killed them, but NO. They just move. I make it a habit to inspect for them while Noah's out. This hill wasn't even a hill yet.
These boogers messed with the wrong family.
After taking care of Noah, I headed out with a gallon of straight bleach. I bleach bombed those suckers, and their neighbors too. And I don't care what anyone has to say about "they were just defending their homes, protecting themselves, blahblahblah". They bit my kid. Mercilessly. All's fair in this war now.
As I typically do when Noah's had a rough time, gets hurt, etc. I do something fun to make up for it. Something special to balance the day out.
Remember those St Patty's Day cupcakes we made? Well, they came in handy.
I handed him the container and let him at it. No worries, he didn't get a tummy ache. He doesn't actually eat the whole cupcake. He's like his momma and prefers the frosting.
So what cures the sting of ant bites?
Double fisting cupcakes.
What else helps?
Letting him do something I'm very consistent about in this parenting thing. No feet on the table.
At this point? I figured I'd be a cool mom and just let him do whatever. I'll go back to being tough when his hands aren't hurting anymore.
Thursday, December 1, 2011
never hurts to ask
So thanks for all of the advice yesterday. Truly. I'm always hesitant to ask the internet for opinions and advice, because well... you never know what you're going to get. But so far, it hasn't resulted in me wanting to crawl in a hole.
Anyway, I realized I needed to be a little more clear after my last post. I wasn't saying I wanted to stop therapy altogether. I just wasn't sure this particular method was best for Noah. I talked to Brad last night about everything going through my head. He agreed with me that speech therapy is the way to go. But at $68 a session? We'd all be living off of soup and ramen for the next 6 months.
I realized that there's no way other middle class families are paying that much. Something had to be wrong here. So I called our super awesome coordinator (seriously, I love this girl). I explained the situation and asked her if she knew what happened to make the price go up so much?
See, originally at our very first meeting, we were quoted half that price. Then the lady came for Noah's speech evaluation and gave us the new price.
Our coordinator mentioned that she was surprised to hear that figure as well. She agreed to call the lady and find out what happened. Within 10 minutes, she called me back and explained that the lady had quoted us the 100% price.
???
Okay. Why?
That price she quoted us was a make-or-break decision. We knew we couldn't afford that, so we opted for a cheaper therapy that included a little speech in there. Had we known the REAL price, we would've already signed up for speech.
Here's the thing.
It's very rare for me to not particularly care for a person. This speech eval lady? I didn't really care for her. I could tell she was annoyed that Noah didn't want to cooperate with her. She came off as cold; just there to do a job. She was nice enough, but for Noah to pay you some attention (or any toddler for that matter)? You best be oozing some sweetness. Then to top it off, she gives us an incorrect price that put off our decision to get him in Speech.
Anyway.
Our coordinator is awesome, did some snooping, and found out the actual price that we'd pay? It's more than half the 100% price. God's favor, y'all. That's all I'm saying.
So I'm feeling a culmination of annoyance, relief, and excitement. I guess it just goes to show that it never hurts to ask...
Anyway, I realized I needed to be a little more clear after my last post. I wasn't saying I wanted to stop therapy altogether. I just wasn't sure this particular method was best for Noah. I talked to Brad last night about everything going through my head. He agreed with me that speech therapy is the way to go. But at $68 a session? We'd all be living off of soup and ramen for the next 6 months.
I realized that there's no way other middle class families are paying that much. Something had to be wrong here. So I called our super awesome coordinator (seriously, I love this girl). I explained the situation and asked her if she knew what happened to make the price go up so much?
See, originally at our very first meeting, we were quoted half that price. Then the lady came for Noah's speech evaluation and gave us the new price.
Our coordinator mentioned that she was surprised to hear that figure as well. She agreed to call the lady and find out what happened. Within 10 minutes, she called me back and explained that the lady had quoted us the 100% price.
???
Okay. Why?
That price she quoted us was a make-or-break decision. We knew we couldn't afford that, so we opted for a cheaper therapy that included a little speech in there. Had we known the REAL price, we would've already signed up for speech.
Here's the thing.
It's very rare for me to not particularly care for a person. This speech eval lady? I didn't really care for her. I could tell she was annoyed that Noah didn't want to cooperate with her. She came off as cold; just there to do a job. She was nice enough, but for Noah to pay you some attention (or any toddler for that matter)? You best be oozing some sweetness. Then to top it off, she gives us an incorrect price that put off our decision to get him in Speech.
Anyway.
Our coordinator is awesome, did some snooping, and found out the actual price that we'd pay? It's more than half the 100% price. God's favor, y'all. That's all I'm saying.
So I'm feeling a culmination of annoyance, relief, and excitement. I guess it just goes to show that it never hurts to ask...
Saturday, November 26, 2011
the obligatory Thanksgiving recap
We're notorious for jam-packing our holidays. While I'm incredibly blessed to have the majority of our families living within 30 minutes of us, it's difficult trying to fit everyone in. When we got married, Brad and I resolved not to stress ourselves with all the running around, attempting to see every family member on that exact day. Because really, it's impossible to do, especially with a toddler. Ultimately, we'd end up promising to be somewhere, only to either bail or show up incredibly cranky. Nobody wants that.
Before we were married, we'd spend Thanksgiving lunch at my grandparents with my dad's side of the fam, followed by decorating their tree. After lunch, we'd rush over to his parents and try to eat enough to keep from disappointing his mom, yet not too much to where we'd be sick. After that, we'd head on over to my other grandmother's house for dinner with my mom and family, where we proceeded to decorate her tree.
Again, I was so incredibly blessed to have that much family nearby, but really, at some point, something had to give. We'd always end the day feeling gross and exhausted.
So Thanksgiving has changed for us a tad, and it's been nice. We still fit family in, but it's more on our terms now. After all, we're the ones with the baby, so everyone is more than welcome to oblige.
For lunch, we still head to my grandparents' on my dad's side. It's where the most family members gather. Plus, the food is out of this world. All that stuff Paula Deen got famous for? It originated in the kitchens of Southern matriarchs.
We all gather 'round, hold hands, and my dad says the blessing.
Noah's still finicky about trying new food, so he stuck to the more traditional PB&J and sliced apple lunch. He also was hungry before everyone else was ready to eat. He looked awfully tiny sitting at that big table all alone.
("Here, Dad. You need to drink more water...")
We got in some quality cousin playtime.
(I promise you, those eyes are completely unedited. So pretty)
And of course, guess where Noah wanted to go.
He literally grabbed our hands and led us to the door.
Pretty sure he spent a good half hour out there.
Yeah.
For dinner, we had Brad's family over. I usually do the cooking, which of course I absolutely love. It's the one time of the year that Brad lets me go nuts and make whatever I want for everyone. See, I love to feed people. It makes me happy. And his family seems to like my food. I sent several plates home with people, so I'll take that as a good sign.
We also had our childhood buddy and his new girlfriend over for dinner. He's practically family anyway, and in my book? The more, the merrier.
Once bellies were full, the party made its way to the back yard where family played football in the dark.
(don't worry, my niece does have good fashion sense. she borrowed some of B's clothes to play in)
It was pretty cold, but I thought Noah would love going out back and running around with everyone. So Brad and I bundled him up and took him out. We tried to keep him out of the middle of the action. Unfortunately, he really loves football. My sister-in-law's boyfriend went to catch a pass, completely oblivious to the toddler behind him. Not only that, but it was the other team's job to tackle him. Poor little Noah didn't stand a chance.
All of a sudden, I felt like I was in one of those dreams where everything is moving in slow motion, and no matter how fast you try to move, you just can't get there in time. It was one of those moments. Brad yelled for everyone to stop, but it was too late. I watched our little guy get knocked over and take several tumbles before coming to a stop.
Thankfully, Brad swooped in and grabbed him before he got stepped on. He wasn't hurt, but ohmygoodness was he scared. Little man was shaking and crying and totally bewildered as to what had just happened.
And the poor guy that knocked him over. It was his first time meeting us. We assured him Noah was just fine, after he apologized over and over. And then, in true Kemper style, everyone teased him mercilessly.
Other than Noah being totally traumatized, Thanksgiving went off without a hitch. Lots of good food, plenty of laughs, and most of all, being thankful we were together.
And now....
It's officially Christmas Time!!
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Evaluation.
Brad and I both have gone back and forth on if/when I could... should... write about this topic. It's not that we're living in denial or being all aloof or anything like that. We're just cautious. Even though I technically don't have hundreds of followers, I do have a lot of lurkers (and I mean that in a non-creepy way. just people who read and don't comment). So for that reason, for our family's own privacy, I haven't talked much about what's been going on behind the scenes. We needed some time to process.
But there have been some challenges.
Everyone faces challenges, obviously. It's different for everyone. For me, though, the emotional toll it takes is magnified when it deals with your baby. It does more than make you worry; it pierces your soul. Everything in you aches for your child to be okay. To understand that what we choose to do for them is just that... for them. And hoping that those decisions are the right ones.
Today marked the beginning of a new journey for our family.
It's no secret that Noah still doesn't talk much. If at all. It also doesn't help that he's the size of a 3 year old with the vocabulary of a one year old.
But it's more than that.
He doesn't really do much pretend play, outside of playing with his cars/trains/etc. He doesn't follow directions well. The back-and-forth in play is minimal. Socially, he still mainly plays around kids, not much with kids. His skill levels are behind... he doesn't blow bubbles, drink from a straw, or proudly show us a toy/drawing/anything. There are some red flags there, that we were already aware of, yet not quite certain they're worth worrying about yet.
This morning, he had his Early Intervention evaluation. The ladies were, of course, very sweet and patient with him. He hadn't had breakfast yet, so they waited on him to eat (because before breakfast, it was a waste of their time. lol). He interacted well, decent eye contact, smiled, all that. One went through her repertoire of games, while they both asked some questions. We answered as thoroughly and as honestly as we could.
After they were through, the ladies proceeded to give us their assessment. We weren't shocked to hear that he's behind, however the extent to which he's delayed was hard to hear. Developmentally, he's falling around 15 or 16 months. I have to admit, that pill was difficult to swallow.
We discussed some of his mannerisms, and at this point, even though she sees some of the red flags, she's not convinced of autism. Basically, we were already on the same page as her with what we've observed about him (and being on the same page with them was a biggie for me). The problem is that none of us are sure about why he's behind. Because even though he displays some of the warning signs, there are plenty of other areas in which he clearly counteracts them. She's definitely apprehensive to label him right now. We all agreed it's only fair to give him time to catch up. She encouraged us that he has an amazing foundation to work with, and that she expects to see some really great progress with him. She assured us that he's obviously a very healthy, happy little guy. He just has some catching up to do.
But of course, in my head, my momma brain is running a mile a minute... "Did I do something wrong?", "Have I not challenged him enough?", "Have I baby'd him too much, thus elliminating the need to talk?", "Was it those times I forgot to take my prenatals?", "Is it genetic?", "What if we can't afford therapy? How will we pay for it?", "Is it something in his environment?", "What if it's not me/us at all? What if it's something else?" I try not to let my mind wander there too much. Over the years, I've gotten pretty good at controlling where and how far to let myself go, in terms of mental/emotional stuff. Because if I go too far, it's not going to do anyone any good, especially Noah. And right now, I have to put on my game face. Not just for me, but for my family.
We all coped differently after this was all over. Noah was clearly pooped out and basically lounged around for a couple hours before going down for an early nap.
Brad passed out on the couch, almost immediately after they left. He's always done this when he's overwhelmed. When we went for our first ultrasound, he slept afterwards. When we found out we were having a boy, he slept afterwards. It's his way of processing. He has a lot on his shoulders already, with work and being the sole provider of our little family. But to add this to it, wondering how it's all going to work out, is a lot to handle. Right now, he's at the driving range.
And me? I blog. :)
What I have to remember is that this is all not an accident.
God has a reason. He has a plan. I have no idea what He intends to do at this moment, but I do know this... He is good. He is holy. And He loves us.
He is bigger than anything life has to throw at us.
I have to trust that He is perfectly capable, that He has my baby in the palm of His hands. It's just another valley that we're walking through, but I know that our joy comes with the morning (Psalm 30:5). His grace is sufficient for me, and His power is made perfect in my weakness (2 Cor 12:9). So while I could sit here and worry, I'm choosing to rely on His strength and wisdom to get us through this season. I'm choosing joy. I have an amazing support system... a mom who is no stranger to child development; family members with listening ears; friends who lend their wisdom and encouragement; a sweet-natured little boy who somehow knows when I need to rock him like a baby, quiet tears streaming down my cheeks; and a husband who loves me during (and in spite of) my moments of "Why the heck can't anything ever be easy?!" :)
So yeah. We'll figure this out. We'll get through it. But for the sake of honesty, and for documenting our family's journey, I felt it was time to share a little.
Keep my baby in your prayers. I'd appreciate it.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
randoms
I was going to do a post about Noah's birthday. But I kind of can't. Our office right now is a tad bit... unorderly. Also, we're having a huge storm right now, and our lights are flickering. So no point in starting something I can't finish, right?
***
We successfully moved out a bed yesterday from our guest room/office. Originally, we planned on keeping the mattress and box spring and just storing it in my grandparents' attic. It seemed perfectly fine. So Tuesday night, I moved out the mattress into our loft. I figured Noah would really get a kick out of it, since he loves to bounce on stuff. And he bounced his little heart out, while I kept cleaning. But after about 15 minutes, I noticed he quit. I also noticed there seemed to be a weird... um... stench. A very mildewy smell.
There's never ever been a weird smell in our guest room. People stay here all the time. I wash the sheets frequently, Lysol down the mattress every so often, and it's always smelled fresh in there. But this smell? Like stinky feet.
So I called up my mom to see when they had purchased that mattress for me. Her response: "Hmm... how old are you?" I told her 28. She thought for a moment and then answered, "Well, I guess it's been about 25 years." Blech. I'm pretty sure you're supposed to change them every 10 years or something like that. So yeah. It's time for a trip to the recycling center.
My dad and brother dropped off our (their? used to be mine too, and is again. soooo... my?) sofa bed. It's not quite the right color, but it serves its purpose. We're making that room into Noah's playroom, so he can watch movies, hang out on the couch, and have his own little space in there. If we have guests? We can just fold the bed out. And yes, I've thoroughly inspected the mattress. And I vacuumed and Lysol'd it. Just for good measure.
***
My family has always been huge fans of Lucille Ball. My mom has her magnets and posters. My stepsister and I grew up collecting the VHS tapes with episodes on them. And my little sister did a post about her a few days ago. Since that whole "Lucy turns 100" weekend, I got myself hooked on watching the reruns again. What baffled me was that Brad never really watched her (or any of that old stuff, for that matter). So I made him watch a couple episodes with me (the ones with John Wayne), and we were seriously rolling. It was hilarious. And I'm so glad they still air it, because that woman had talent. I'm all for some reality, trashtasticcrap tv sometimes. But at the end of the day, I'd much rather get myself some popcorn and watch a good "I Love Lucy" episode. Best antidepressent ever.
***
I sort of jumped on the Weight Watchers bandwagon (anyone out there NOT on WW now??). It seriously feels like the entire blogosphere has joined WW. But really, I'm not officially on the program, I don't guess. See, my mom has been on and off of WW since I was a kid. She has the cookbooks and food calculator and all that stuff. And I swear Brad would shoot me if I said I wanted to pay money for something else fitness/weight loss related. So I'm doing it my way. I know my point limit, and I'm not calculating everything. It's kind of fun. I've only been on it for the last 48 hours, so I don't think I have any major weight loss announcements just yet, but I can certainly tell a difference just in habits. It makes me more aware of what I'm putting in my mouth... makes me ask myself "is it really worth the points?". The first night, I'm not gonna lie, I was hungry. But it got better. And now I fill up very quickly and only on healthy things. I still get to have an Oreo if I like. I just have to make sure it's really what I want to use my points on.
So we'll see. I'll let ya know if there's anything to share.
***
My little sister spent the night with us last night. She had complained about her stomach hurting the night before and hadn't eaten all day. She figured it was something she ate, because she didn't feel sick sick. I agreed and shrugged it off as a food issue. Then it dawned on me...
From the time I was 10 to about 15, my life was pretty... interesting. Lots of changes, lots of drama, lots of feeling-a-loss-of-control-over-my-own-life type things. I never went anorexic or anything. However, when I get nervous or depressed or afraid? I can't eat. My stomach hurts, and I'm afraid anything I eat will make me sick. It's very weird. It's like my body just shuts down until I can gain a sense of normalcy and comfort again.
So here's the link... my little sister is about to enter into high school. A new, big high school. She's always gone to a very small school, so this is totally out of her element. On Tuesday (the day she started feeling bad), she had gone to some kind of orientation thing. That night, she felt sick and didn't eat hardly anything yesterday.
She's scared (rightfully so) about going to a new school and only knowing a handful of people. She's worried about looking nerdy and what others will think about her and if she'll get stuck in the cool crowd or the dorky crowd and all that completely normal teenage stuff.
In an attempt to help her out, I've declared Tuesday to be a Sister Day. I'm taking her to a fancy salon, and she's getting highlights and a new haircut (one we've already picked out that's super cute and easy to maintain).
We're going to do a makeover at home, where I'll give her some makeup tips and show her what colors are best with her eyes/skin/features. If we have time, I'm hoping to fit a manicure in. Because in all honesty, I would like one. :) We may do a little shopping or whatever. In any case, we're going to make sure she feels like the prettiest girl at school. Boost that self-confidence up a notch, y'know? Hopefully, this will help calm those "what do they think of me? how do I look? do I have a booger on my face?" thoughts. :)
Our grandmother was a total fashionista (and a fabulous shopper), and I'm pretty sure if she were here, our MomMom would be the one taking her to get all of this done for her first day of high school. So I guess I'm also partly acting in her place. You're welcome, MomMom. We'll try to do you proud.
***
We've contacted Early Intervention for Noah. We got some info, and we're going to talk to his pediatrician at his next well check in two weeks to see what she says and recommends.
It's very disheartening for me. Not because I'm all worried something is "wrong" with my boy. I don't care either way about any of that. I really just want someone to tell me how to help my baby. If I knew what to do, I'd do it.
I feel like I've tried it all, and he's completely uninterested. If I try to get him to repeat words, he grins at me and babbles back like we're having a conversation. He "talks" plenty, just in his own language. He completely understands us, responds appropriately (for the most part), and doesn't act frustrated ever if he's trying to tell us something. I think my biggest issue is being one of those hovering moms, where I don't give him the chance to ask for things. I don't have a problem admitting it (that's the first step, right?). It's just natural for me. If I see he needs more water, I grab it. Same as I would if I saw a piece of trash on the floor... I see it and throw it away; problem solved. Unfortunately, in his case, I'm not "solving" anything. I'm setting him back. So I'm trying to be more intentional about waiting to let him tell me what he wants.
If he's not very far behind (he has to be more than 30%, according to the lady on the phone), then they'll just give me a few tips and tools to help me help him. And that's really all I want. Someone tell me how to help him, and I'll do it. If they tell me to relax, he's just fine? Well then that's great too. Whatever I need to do, that's what I'll do.
***
We successfully moved out a bed yesterday from our guest room/office. Originally, we planned on keeping the mattress and box spring and just storing it in my grandparents' attic. It seemed perfectly fine. So Tuesday night, I moved out the mattress into our loft. I figured Noah would really get a kick out of it, since he loves to bounce on stuff. And he bounced his little heart out, while I kept cleaning. But after about 15 minutes, I noticed he quit. I also noticed there seemed to be a weird... um... stench. A very mildewy smell.
There's never ever been a weird smell in our guest room. People stay here all the time. I wash the sheets frequently, Lysol down the mattress every so often, and it's always smelled fresh in there. But this smell? Like stinky feet.
So I called up my mom to see when they had purchased that mattress for me. Her response: "Hmm... how old are you?" I told her 28. She thought for a moment and then answered, "Well, I guess it's been about 25 years." Blech. I'm pretty sure you're supposed to change them every 10 years or something like that. So yeah. It's time for a trip to the recycling center.
My dad and brother dropped off our (their? used to be mine too, and is again. soooo... my?) sofa bed. It's not quite the right color, but it serves its purpose. We're making that room into Noah's playroom, so he can watch movies, hang out on the couch, and have his own little space in there. If we have guests? We can just fold the bed out. And yes, I've thoroughly inspected the mattress. And I vacuumed and Lysol'd it. Just for good measure.
***
My family has always been huge fans of Lucille Ball. My mom has her magnets and posters. My stepsister and I grew up collecting the VHS tapes with episodes on them. And my little sister did a post about her a few days ago. Since that whole "Lucy turns 100" weekend, I got myself hooked on watching the reruns again. What baffled me was that Brad never really watched her (or any of that old stuff, for that matter). So I made him watch a couple episodes with me (the ones with John Wayne), and we were seriously rolling. It was hilarious. And I'm so glad they still air it, because that woman had talent. I'm all for some reality, trashtastic
***
I sort of jumped on the Weight Watchers bandwagon (anyone out there NOT on WW now??). It seriously feels like the entire blogosphere has joined WW. But really, I'm not officially on the program, I don't guess. See, my mom has been on and off of WW since I was a kid. She has the cookbooks and food calculator and all that stuff. And I swear Brad would shoot me if I said I wanted to pay money for something else fitness/weight loss related. So I'm doing it my way. I know my point limit, and I'm not calculating everything. It's kind of fun. I've only been on it for the last 48 hours, so I don't think I have any major weight loss announcements just yet, but I can certainly tell a difference just in habits. It makes me more aware of what I'm putting in my mouth... makes me ask myself "is it really worth the points?". The first night, I'm not gonna lie, I was hungry. But it got better. And now I fill up very quickly and only on healthy things. I still get to have an Oreo if I like. I just have to make sure it's really what I want to use my points on.
So we'll see. I'll let ya know if there's anything to share.
***
My little sister spent the night with us last night. She had complained about her stomach hurting the night before and hadn't eaten all day. She figured it was something she ate, because she didn't feel sick sick. I agreed and shrugged it off as a food issue. Then it dawned on me...
From the time I was 10 to about 15, my life was pretty... interesting. Lots of changes, lots of drama, lots of feeling-a-loss-of-control-over-my-own-life type things. I never went anorexic or anything. However, when I get nervous or depressed or afraid? I can't eat. My stomach hurts, and I'm afraid anything I eat will make me sick. It's very weird. It's like my body just shuts down until I can gain a sense of normalcy and comfort again.
So here's the link... my little sister is about to enter into high school. A new, big high school. She's always gone to a very small school, so this is totally out of her element. On Tuesday (the day she started feeling bad), she had gone to some kind of orientation thing. That night, she felt sick and didn't eat hardly anything yesterday.
She's scared (rightfully so) about going to a new school and only knowing a handful of people. She's worried about looking nerdy and what others will think about her and if she'll get stuck in the cool crowd or the dorky crowd and all that completely normal teenage stuff.
In an attempt to help her out, I've declared Tuesday to be a Sister Day. I'm taking her to a fancy salon, and she's getting highlights and a new haircut (one we've already picked out that's super cute and easy to maintain).
We're going to do a makeover at home, where I'll give her some makeup tips and show her what colors are best with her eyes/skin/features. If we have time, I'm hoping to fit a manicure in. Because in all honesty, I would like one. :) We may do a little shopping or whatever. In any case, we're going to make sure she feels like the prettiest girl at school. Boost that self-confidence up a notch, y'know? Hopefully, this will help calm those "what do they think of me? how do I look? do I have a booger on my face?" thoughts. :)
Our grandmother was a total fashionista (and a fabulous shopper), and I'm pretty sure if she were here, our MomMom would be the one taking her to get all of this done for her first day of high school. So I guess I'm also partly acting in her place. You're welcome, MomMom. We'll try to do you proud.
***
We've contacted Early Intervention for Noah. We got some info, and we're going to talk to his pediatrician at his next well check in two weeks to see what she says and recommends.
It's very disheartening for me. Not because I'm all worried something is "wrong" with my boy. I don't care either way about any of that. I really just want someone to tell me how to help my baby. If I knew what to do, I'd do it.
I feel like I've tried it all, and he's completely uninterested. If I try to get him to repeat words, he grins at me and babbles back like we're having a conversation. He "talks" plenty, just in his own language. He completely understands us, responds appropriately (for the most part), and doesn't act frustrated ever if he's trying to tell us something. I think my biggest issue is being one of those hovering moms, where I don't give him the chance to ask for things. I don't have a problem admitting it (that's the first step, right?). It's just natural for me. If I see he needs more water, I grab it. Same as I would if I saw a piece of trash on the floor... I see it and throw it away; problem solved. Unfortunately, in his case, I'm not "solving" anything. I'm setting him back. So I'm trying to be more intentional about waiting to let him tell me what he wants.
If he's not very far behind (he has to be more than 30%, according to the lady on the phone), then they'll just give me a few tips and tools to help me help him. And that's really all I want. Someone tell me how to help him, and I'll do it. If they tell me to relax, he's just fine? Well then that's great too. Whatever I need to do, that's what I'll do.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
summertime with the fam
My mom's neighbors left for vacation Saturday morning. Before they left, they invited our family to use their pool whenever we wanted. I don't think they realized how happy this made me.
About this time each year, I start getting that itch to go on a vacation. The kind that only salt air, sand, and chlorine can fix. Well, we obviously didn't get to smell any salty air. But we got pretty darn close to the rest of it.
Yep, that's sand and real palm trees you see.
This is why I haven't been blogging much in the last few days.
I mean, really. Would you bother blogging if you had free access to this?
I should probably mention that I'm a total fish when it comes to water.
If it were up to me, I'd be there 24/7 swimming.
Brad, while he enjoys it, gets bored after awhile. The problem is that he can't get water stuck in his ear (he had to have reconstructive surgery on his ear when he was a kid). So swimming under water for long periods of time is bad. Which means races, dives, etc are all out. But it's ok. We've been having a great time, and my sister is there to swim with me some too. It worked out perfectly, because Brad's work schedule changed some this week, giving him more free daylight hours to play with us.
As for Noah, he likes the pool, but he obviously can't really swim yet. He has a life vest, but he hasn't figured out how to keep himself from bobbing back and forth in it. However, the little daredevil does like to put his face in the water. I'm hoping he's taking after his mama.
The water was freezing the first day, so Noah needed a little convincing that this was supposed to be fun.
But eventually, he came around.
The best part?
My family is right across the street. Which means when Noah's sick of swimming, we have immediate babysitters ready to take him and let us have some grownup swim time.
("grownup" being used loosely of course...)
The other night, we stopped by my dad's to hang out. They were having a couple of friends over.
My dad invited us to have some dinner and stick around for awhile.
It's always nice to go home for a little bit, even if you've had two homes to go home to.
My daddy was mostly busy in the kitchen frying some okra (heavenly), chatting with friends, and making sure everyone had a place to sit. But he still found some time to be with Noah, who he absolutely adores. The attempted to throw a frisbee with him. He kinda got it. Sorta.
Noah likes running around his Granddaddy's house.
Lots of cool stuff to look at... like wind chimes, fountains, and flower beds (filled!with!dirt!).
He's figured out how to open the doors at my dad's house (they're the lever kind). We were busy chatting, thought Noah was playing near the stairs inside. Brad decided to check on him, and turns out, he was outside in the driveway. Poor Brad about had heart failure. Needless to say, we're bolting all doors now.
(he likes to look for the cicadas and tree frogs he hears there. our yard doesn't have a ton of trees like we're used to, so we don't hear as many summer noises. one of the downsides to living in a development like ours.)
While we were there, we had a milestone moment.
Noah pitched his first real fit.
He wanted to go outside, and we said no.
He proceeded to fling himself to the floor and cry.
It lasted all of two seconds, but this mama was ready, camera in hand.
Since that moment, he has thrown two more mini-fits... both of which included stomping.
And every single time he does it?
I end up laughing. I'm sure that's not the appropriate response, but it's just so out of character for him that it strikes me as hilarious. However, I'm pretty sure it's all related to the fact that we've messed with his schedule again. He's now getting up between 8-9am and going to bed around 11pm. It's the perfect schedule for us, but it's causing some nasty cranky side effects.
Anyways, hope everyone else had a great weekend!
Off to spend more time with the fam.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
random
So I've had lots of stuff I've been meaning to share, but Noah's sickness kind of derailed those plans. This post is just a bunch of randomness... or blurbs, if you will. ;)
Fyi, this part was written last night, and I just never got around to posting.
Ok, so first things first. I have a new blog! I think most of you know how much I enjoy baking, cooking, etc. Well, I also know some of you just have no interest in reading entry after entry of food blogs [hi, Jess :)]. So in an effort to not get on anyone's nerves and also get to share some fun recipes, I created a food blog called Piggy Wiggy Recipes.
I won't be featuring anything that I've never made. I hate it when people get all pretentious about their recipes and freak the average mom/wife/student/etc out, overwhelming them to the point of forfeiting and just eating a bowl of cereal (haha, that was for you Sara).
Anyway, that's all I'll say about it. If you want some easy, yummy recipes then follow. I promise I won't disappoint. :) (I hope)
***
Noah is getting back to normal. Last night we went to Brad's parents house to visit for (what I thought was going to be) a short time. I didn't want to stay too long, mainly because Noah had only been fever-free for 24 hours. I didn't want to overdue it with him or infect anybody else. Nobody wants a fun case of tonsillitis.
I've come to realize that with Brad's family, you really can't be too sure how things will turn out. His dad had to take Kalyb to scouts. Brad's mom's blood sugar was dangerously low (she's a severe diabetic), so Brad needed to stay with her until his dad got back. Kerri (Brad's sister) was going out of town, so Ben had to pick up her kid from his sports thing.
Needless to say, leaving early wasn't an option anymore. Noah started getting sleepy (mostly due to the Tylenol), and Ben offered to take Brad home once he got back. I was very grateful, because poor Noah needed some sleep. So Noah and I headed home.
As I pulled up to our driveway, a fresh wave of panic sweeped across me.
I don't have a key.
I did have a key, but I let Madison borrow it over the summer. Neither of us can find it. I usually leave the garage unlocked, just in case. But I also have a habit of mindlessly locking all of the doors. So yeah. I locked us out of the house. Also, whenever I travel with Brad, I sometimes don't grab my cell phone. Because I figure, if someone really needs me, they can call Brad.
Yep. I was locked out of my own house, at night, with my sick son, without a phone.
Fortunately, we have some awesome neighbors. I went across the street and asked if I could use their phone. Of course, they said yes.
Oh, I forgot to mention... I was covered in banana. Noah ate bananas and wiped his hands on me. Also, Brad dressed Noah in a skull and crossbones tshirt that my stepsister got him for his birthday. I apologized for barging in their home so late. They didn't care. However, I was suddenly a little self-concious. I looked like a mess. I had gotten us locked out of our home. My husband wasn't answering his phone. Noah had a skull on his shirt. And they were in their bedroom reading their Bible together as a family. Cross referencing and everything. Sigh.
I told my neighbor I was just going to drive around with Noah and see if I could put him to sleep in the car. She was so sweet and offered me her cell phone, since mine was obviously still in the house.
I finally got in touch with Brad, and he told me just to come back to their house. Noah fussed the whole way, because he hadn't had a proper dinner yet. Just a banana.
Do I get a mom-of-the-year award yet??
So we ran back to the g'parents. Brad had fixed Noah a plethora of food... scrambled eggs, peas, and mandarin oranges. I sat Noah down, and he refused to eat it. Any of it. He pinched his mouth shut and shook his head no.
We gave up. I ate the eggs and peas. Brad ate the oranges.
Noah fussed on the way home too.
I didn't really have much to give him at home that was quick, so I gave him chocolate chip banana bread [which btw is featured as my first post on my new blog :)]. Yep, I gave my son dessert for dinner. I'm such a great mom.
Anyway, we put him to bed, and he was happy.
Fast forward to 5:30 this morning. Noah woke up fussing. I gave him some water, then put him back to bed. Still fussing. I tried rocking him (I know, he's a little old for that now, plus it never works, but I was desperate), put him in my bed, gave him more water... nothing. This went on for a good 45 minutes, and it finally dawned on me that maybe he was hungry.
Apparently, those last few days of not eating caught up to him. He scarfed down three pieces of toast with jelly, grapes, and some Cheerios. And more water. Finally, he slowed down and rubbed his eyes. He (of course) got jelly in his hair, but I didn't care. He was still exhausted and so was I. As soon as he saw his bed, he gave a little tired giggle, rolled over, and fell asleep.
Funny thing is... I can't sleep if I'm hungry either. If I wake up starving, it takes everything in me to ignore it. Usually, I give in and eat a granola bar or something. I actually used to keep them beside my bed, because I had a tendency of not eating enough before going to bed. So my boy is ALL Brad on the outside... but there's at least some of me on the inside. And that's where it really counts, right??
***
(Ok, now we're back to today)
One of my FB peeps posted this guy's blog post this morning. I don't know if yall have ever seen him before. Apparently, he's a big thing in the blog world, but I'd never seen him before. How do people find these popular bloggers? I just randomly click on blogs and read a little. If I decide they're cool enough, I follow. Followers, feel honored. :)
Anyway, he did this awesome post about dads. If you're a dad or know a dad, you should read this. It's worth it.
***
Last week, we took Noah to the park to play with his cousins. We're pretty sure this is where he picked up the nasty virus, so parks have now been banned from our list of fun places to go. Just kidding.
Noah loves to swing. We tried to get Noah to go in the tunnel with his cousin Ryan, but he was more interested in trying to eat the dirt. I know. It's no wonder he got sick.
Fyi, this part was written last night, and I just never got around to posting.
Ok, so first things first. I have a new blog! I think most of you know how much I enjoy baking, cooking, etc. Well, I also know some of you just have no interest in reading entry after entry of food blogs [hi, Jess :)]. So in an effort to not get on anyone's nerves and also get to share some fun recipes, I created a food blog called Piggy Wiggy Recipes.
I won't be featuring anything that I've never made. I hate it when people get all pretentious about their recipes and freak the average mom/wife/student/etc out, overwhelming them to the point of forfeiting and just eating a bowl of cereal (haha, that was for you Sara).
Anyway, that's all I'll say about it. If you want some easy, yummy recipes then follow. I promise I won't disappoint. :) (I hope)
***
Noah is getting back to normal. Last night we went to Brad's parents house to visit for (what I thought was going to be) a short time. I didn't want to stay too long, mainly because Noah had only been fever-free for 24 hours. I didn't want to overdue it with him or infect anybody else. Nobody wants a fun case of tonsillitis.
I've come to realize that with Brad's family, you really can't be too sure how things will turn out. His dad had to take Kalyb to scouts. Brad's mom's blood sugar was dangerously low (she's a severe diabetic), so Brad needed to stay with her until his dad got back. Kerri (Brad's sister) was going out of town, so Ben had to pick up her kid from his sports thing.
Needless to say, leaving early wasn't an option anymore. Noah started getting sleepy (mostly due to the Tylenol), and Ben offered to take Brad home once he got back. I was very grateful, because poor Noah needed some sleep. So Noah and I headed home.
As I pulled up to our driveway, a fresh wave of panic sweeped across me.
I don't have a key.
I did have a key, but I let Madison borrow it over the summer. Neither of us can find it. I usually leave the garage unlocked, just in case. But I also have a habit of mindlessly locking all of the doors. So yeah. I locked us out of the house. Also, whenever I travel with Brad, I sometimes don't grab my cell phone. Because I figure, if someone really needs me, they can call Brad.
Yep. I was locked out of my own house, at night, with my sick son, without a phone.
Fortunately, we have some awesome neighbors. I went across the street and asked if I could use their phone. Of course, they said yes.
Oh, I forgot to mention... I was covered in banana. Noah ate bananas and wiped his hands on me. Also, Brad dressed Noah in a skull and crossbones tshirt that my stepsister got him for his birthday. I apologized for barging in their home so late. They didn't care. However, I was suddenly a little self-concious. I looked like a mess. I had gotten us locked out of our home. My husband wasn't answering his phone. Noah had a skull on his shirt. And they were in their bedroom reading their Bible together as a family. Cross referencing and everything. Sigh.
I told my neighbor I was just going to drive around with Noah and see if I could put him to sleep in the car. She was so sweet and offered me her cell phone, since mine was obviously still in the house.
I finally got in touch with Brad, and he told me just to come back to their house. Noah fussed the whole way, because he hadn't had a proper dinner yet. Just a banana.
Do I get a mom-of-the-year award yet??
So we ran back to the g'parents. Brad had fixed Noah a plethora of food... scrambled eggs, peas, and mandarin oranges. I sat Noah down, and he refused to eat it. Any of it. He pinched his mouth shut and shook his head no.
We gave up. I ate the eggs and peas. Brad ate the oranges.
Noah fussed on the way home too.
I didn't really have much to give him at home that was quick, so I gave him chocolate chip banana bread [which btw is featured as my first post on my new blog :)]. Yep, I gave my son dessert for dinner. I'm such a great mom.
Anyway, we put him to bed, and he was happy.
Fast forward to 5:30 this morning. Noah woke up fussing. I gave him some water, then put him back to bed. Still fussing. I tried rocking him (I know, he's a little old for that now, plus it never works, but I was desperate), put him in my bed, gave him more water... nothing. This went on for a good 45 minutes, and it finally dawned on me that maybe he was hungry.
Apparently, those last few days of not eating caught up to him. He scarfed down three pieces of toast with jelly, grapes, and some Cheerios. And more water. Finally, he slowed down and rubbed his eyes. He (of course) got jelly in his hair, but I didn't care. He was still exhausted and so was I. As soon as he saw his bed, he gave a little tired giggle, rolled over, and fell asleep.
Funny thing is... I can't sleep if I'm hungry either. If I wake up starving, it takes everything in me to ignore it. Usually, I give in and eat a granola bar or something. I actually used to keep them beside my bed, because I had a tendency of not eating enough before going to bed. So my boy is ALL Brad on the outside... but there's at least some of me on the inside. And that's where it really counts, right??
***
(Ok, now we're back to today)
One of my FB peeps posted this guy's blog post this morning. I don't know if yall have ever seen him before. Apparently, he's a big thing in the blog world, but I'd never seen him before. How do people find these popular bloggers? I just randomly click on blogs and read a little. If I decide they're cool enough, I follow. Followers, feel honored. :)
Anyway, he did this awesome post about dads. If you're a dad or know a dad, you should read this. It's worth it.
***
Last week, we took Noah to the park to play with his cousins. We're pretty sure this is where he picked up the nasty virus, so parks have now been banned from our list of fun places to go. Just kidding.
Noah loves to swing. We tried to get Noah to go in the tunnel with his cousin Ryan, but he was more interested in trying to eat the dirt. I know. It's no wonder he got sick.
Hanging out with daddy
Noah swinging with Colton
Little Ryan... isn't he cute??
I haven't had much time to catch up on all my blog reading. But I'll be back.
Hope everyone is having a great week!
Saturday, September 25, 2010
how we're spending our weekend...
Last night, little Noah started running a fever. We gave him a little Tylenol and put him to bed early. He slept for almost 12 hours, waking up once for some water around 6am. Twelve hours for Noah is unheard of. He normally sleeps somewhere around 10. I mean, I appreciated the extra sleep, but of course, me being the mommy that knows something is wrong, it wasn't good sleep.
All day, he's been pretty sad. He was chipper twice. Once before his nap, he attempted to play like normal, toting his pots and pans around the house. Then he crashed and slept for 3 hours, waking up once again for some water. He giggled twice. Once when I sang to him, then again at Curious George in the snow.
But mostly...
He's been like this:
Sure enough, I went to change his diaper before I put him to bed, and he threw up everywhere. Guess who got to clean that mess up?? ;)
I quickly bathed him, and he cried the whole time. All he wanted was his bed. And I don't blame him. Brad got worried and called the nurse. She said it sounds like he has a little virus and recommended we give him watered down Pedialyte or Gatorade to help his tummy take the Tylenol, since he doesn't want food.
*For those who don't know, Brad has a congenital heart defect, and his immune system is much weaker than most)
Brad just called me from Walmart and said he's gotten the Gatorade and also a Braun ear thermometer (the expensive brand... just in case the regular one wasn't good enough).
All you veteran parents out there, feel free to stop stifling the giggles. We're total newbies, we know.
All day, he's been pretty sad. He was chipper twice. Once before his nap, he attempted to play like normal, toting his pots and pans around the house. Then he crashed and slept for 3 hours, waking up once again for some water. He giggled twice. Once when I sang to him, then again at Curious George in the snow.
But mostly...
He's been like this:
(this has been the look on his face pretty much all day. And yall know how smiley he is.
Definitely not feeling well.)
He hasn't been eating at all. He had a few crackers (turns out Annie's Honey Graham Bunnies are a great "sick food" for toddlers), a few grapes, half a banana, and lots of water.
I went against that whole mother's intuition (or just common sense in general) and let Brad talk me into letting him have some milk. Growing up, I'd always heard that if you drink milk while you have a fever, it goes sour in your stomach. I've never tested the theory. I figured it wasn't worth the risk. However, Brad thought he'd be perfectly fine, since he'd never heard of that before.
Sure enough, I went to change his diaper before I put him to bed, and he threw up everywhere. Guess who got to clean that mess up?? ;)
I quickly bathed him, and he cried the whole time. All he wanted was his bed. And I don't blame him. Brad got worried and called the nurse. She said it sounds like he has a little virus and recommended we give him watered down Pedialyte or Gatorade to help his tummy take the Tylenol, since he doesn't want food.
There's something about seeing your baby sick. It's awful. Especially if they're the pathetic, sweet kind of sick kid. The kind where they just lie there, lethargic, pitiful, and give you a half-smile as if to say, "Mommy, I love you, but I feel terrible..."
It really would help if Noah could talk. At least he could tell us what hurts. This guessing thing isn't so fun.The other downside to sickness in our house is the threat it is to Brad. A simple cold can knock Brad out for days.* Whenever I used to get sick, I spent most of the time spraying Lysol and confining myself to one spot. So we're total germ freaks. I'm one of those moms that uses Germex and wipes down light switches and uses a grocery cart cover. Needless to say, we try very hard to keep our home germ free. Brad and I have already gone through the house and Lysol'ed everything Noah has touched. His clothes and blanket are in the wash. And for extra measure, Brad and I both have taken Vitamin C and Echinacea pills. I'm hoping all that talk about moms having a hyped up immune system is true now. I'd like to nip this thing in the bud ASAP.
*For those who don't know, Brad has a congenital heart defect, and his immune system is much weaker than most)
Brad just called me from Walmart and said he's gotten the Gatorade and also a Braun ear thermometer (the expensive brand... just in case the regular one wasn't good enough).
All you veteran parents out there, feel free to stop stifling the giggles. We're total newbies, we know.
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