Wednesday, September 28, 2011
So Envious ...
Grandma and Grandpa at the lake know how to ride in style. Connor and I can't wait to go for a test drive in their new ride. He was so excited when he found out what they just bought. The twins and Josh, well they could care less. It's just a car. Oh well, at least one of my boys inherited the muscle car madness from Mommy's side of the family!
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
To Sleep .. Or Not to Sleep
The poor kid.
Sawyer has always had more trouble than any of our boys when it comes to sleeping. He hasn't napped consistently since around his second birthday, and he hasn't required more than 7 or 8 hours of sleep per night since that time either. His internal clock can be way off at times.
Last night was one of those times. He was tired late in the afternoon, laying around on the couch in the kids' playroom. Around 7:30 he finally gave it up, one foot still in the talking letters toy tote and a pillow pulled over his head (he craves pressure, always, but especially when he sleeps).
At first I was worried he might be getting sick. The weather is changing. It's that time of year. And he's at a much bigger school, with lots of different classrooms and potential germ-carriers, I mean classmates.
But no, three hours later we realized he was not getting sick. His internal clock was just off. He took a three-hour nap.
And then he was done.
Josh went to his room to get him. We let him sit on the couch with us for a few minutes, but he seemed sleepy still. I took him for one more potty break, then asked him to go back night-night with Mommy. He took my hand willingly, and let me lead him back to his dark room where we both climbed into his bed.
I stayed for half an hour. He was sleepy and full of yawns, but he just couldn't give it up. I closed him in his room, told him night-night and left to find my own bed.
Sleep didn't find him until very late this morning. He was still wide-awake around 4 a.m. when I made another pass at laying down with him to try to help him sleep. It lasted 20 minutes and I once again closed him in. He only wanted to jabber, not lie still and try to sleep. And Mommy was still sleepy.
I heard him off and on the next few hours, and we suspect he fell asleep again sometime between 6 and 7 this morning. Which made him a bear to get up at a little after 7 to get ready for school.
We put a note in his folder for his teachers. Last night I had written about keeping an eye out for signs of sickness, because this child is never tired. Unless he's off schedule. And then you're in for a rough couple of days.
I updated his folder this morning to warn them about the sleepless night. He may or may not crash on them at school, but he will be cranky. And sooner or later, he will crash. Could be at school. Could be at speech therapy after school (of course it's today of all days). Could be after we get home.
But make no mistake, the crash will come. It always does. It's a vicious cycle.
Last night was the first rough night, but it will not be the only one. It generally takes a few days to get back on track. Here's hoping it happens sooner rather than later. And that his teachers survive the day!
Sawyer has always had more trouble than any of our boys when it comes to sleeping. He hasn't napped consistently since around his second birthday, and he hasn't required more than 7 or 8 hours of sleep per night since that time either. His internal clock can be way off at times.
Last night was one of those times. He was tired late in the afternoon, laying around on the couch in the kids' playroom. Around 7:30 he finally gave it up, one foot still in the talking letters toy tote and a pillow pulled over his head (he craves pressure, always, but especially when he sleeps).
At first I was worried he might be getting sick. The weather is changing. It's that time of year. And he's at a much bigger school, with lots of different classrooms and potential germ-carriers, I mean classmates.
But no, three hours later we realized he was not getting sick. His internal clock was just off. He took a three-hour nap.
And then he was done.
Josh went to his room to get him. We let him sit on the couch with us for a few minutes, but he seemed sleepy still. I took him for one more potty break, then asked him to go back night-night with Mommy. He took my hand willingly, and let me lead him back to his dark room where we both climbed into his bed.
I stayed for half an hour. He was sleepy and full of yawns, but he just couldn't give it up. I closed him in his room, told him night-night and left to find my own bed.
Sleep didn't find him until very late this morning. He was still wide-awake around 4 a.m. when I made another pass at laying down with him to try to help him sleep. It lasted 20 minutes and I once again closed him in. He only wanted to jabber, not lie still and try to sleep. And Mommy was still sleepy.
I heard him off and on the next few hours, and we suspect he fell asleep again sometime between 6 and 7 this morning. Which made him a bear to get up at a little after 7 to get ready for school.
We put a note in his folder for his teachers. Last night I had written about keeping an eye out for signs of sickness, because this child is never tired. Unless he's off schedule. And then you're in for a rough couple of days.
I updated his folder this morning to warn them about the sleepless night. He may or may not crash on them at school, but he will be cranky. And sooner or later, he will crash. Could be at school. Could be at speech therapy after school (of course it's today of all days). Could be after we get home.
But make no mistake, the crash will come. It always does. It's a vicious cycle.
Last night was the first rough night, but it will not be the only one. It generally takes a few days to get back on track. Here's hoping it happens sooner rather than later. And that his teachers survive the day!
Getting Back in the Game (and Trying to Be Good)
No one enjoys being out of the game. That's how I've felt these last few weeks. I am not a good sick person. Ask anyone. I hate it. I am miserable, and I can make everyone around me miserable. Pain medication apparently makes it even worse. Ask my husband, he will tell you.
The good news is I have never been seriously sick before. A few colds, a case of the flu or strep once or twice, but nothing major. Stitches twice, both when I was a child. No broken bones or major injuries. Two surgeries, both c-sections because my all of my children have unusually large heads and they arrived 14 months apart (single first, twins last). I have always been healthy and active.
Until about three weeks ago.
The world came to screeching halt. I have never had even the slightest back problem before. When I made my original trip to the family doctor early this summer, it was for an odd left leg pain. My back didn't even hurt. We suspected mild sciatica that exercise and anti-inflammatory drugs could eliminate. We never imagined it would lead to surgery.
Back surgery. For a completely ruptured disk that was not only useless, it was also compressing a nerve root than ran the length of my entire left leg. Serious pain. As in no longer able to walk without tears pain. Two trips to the ER pain. Pain that strong medication like Lortab and Percocet could not even begin to touch.
It sucked.
The diagnosis and surgeryy happened so quickly I didn't really have time to worry about it until afterward. That's when I started thinking about how serious it was, about how many things could have gone incredibly, horribly wrong.
I have three children, two with special needs. I am not allowed to be sick or unwell. I am not allowed to sit out of the game.
But for two weeks I have been expected to do just that. Bed rest, with only limited breaks every few hours for a little walking. The couch or the bed have been my unwilling home these last few weeks. I have hated every waking minute of it. The sleeping ones were not much better, as getting comfortable with fresh, scabbed, two-inch incision in your lower back is kind of hard to do.
A few days ago, I took myself off the pain medication and off bed rest. My surgeon would probably not be impressed, but I didn't ask. I started slow, just getting out of the house for half an hour did a world of good. Sunday's baseball adventure was even better. But of course, it made me want more. I am tired of laying around the house, seeing all the things that need to be done and being expected not to do them. I am getting up to do things, and then going back to rest. The laptop is a good friend on the couch, and a new Nook book also helps. But I will not stay there for hours at a time any more. I simply cannot do it.
Today I am planning to help Josh with the boys at speech therapy. I will wait in the truck with two of the boys while he takes each twin in for their individual therapy. I do not think I am quite up to participating in therapy that often involves rolling around on the floor, physcially coralling five-year olds, or turns in the occupational therapy play room (think lots of swings, crash mats and sensory-seeking heaven toys).
Slowly. I am trying to be good.
We will overlook the fact that the first thing I did this morning after not being able to fall back asleep was to get up, clean the inch-layer of dust off all three ceiling fans in the living room and play room (which, of course, has been mocking me these last few weeks as I lay on the couch since I can see all three of them). I also may or may not have vaccuumed most of the house (all but the bedrooms) after said inch-layer of dust left the fans and sprinkled brilliantly all over the floors. It went well with the dog hair from the big, spoiled puppy. So really, I had no choice.
But then I took a break. Really. And the only other things on my list for today are folding the load of laundry in the dryer (will take 15 minutes, tops) and writing some thank-you notes to all of the wonderful friends and family who have helped us these last few weeks, whether helping with the boys, sending over food or gift cards for food, or just being there for us. And I can even do that one sitting down.
But I will not go back to the couch or the bed all day long. I will not take the awful pain medicine that was making me sleepy and sick and ... well, let's face it ... cranky and hateful.
Tomorrow we have another baseball game. And maybe one day this week I can convince Josh to take me out to lunch before his leave ends and he has to go back to work (he's been off the last two weeks taking care of the kiddos and the house and me). My appetite is slowly returning, though I still feel sick to my stomach when I am up on my feet for too long. And surely I will be allowed to drive again soon, especially now that I am off the of the stronger medication.
Slowly, but surely, just like I alwasys say with the boys. Nothing comes easy or quickly, but it comes just the same. I am finally starting to feel more like myself again, and that is a wonderful thing.
More of the usual programming again soon ... especially as I can get up and get back to my other hobby, playing with my camera!
The good news is I have never been seriously sick before. A few colds, a case of the flu or strep once or twice, but nothing major. Stitches twice, both when I was a child. No broken bones or major injuries. Two surgeries, both c-sections because my all of my children have unusually large heads and they arrived 14 months apart (single first, twins last). I have always been healthy and active.
Until about three weeks ago.
The world came to screeching halt. I have never had even the slightest back problem before. When I made my original trip to the family doctor early this summer, it was for an odd left leg pain. My back didn't even hurt. We suspected mild sciatica that exercise and anti-inflammatory drugs could eliminate. We never imagined it would lead to surgery.
Back surgery. For a completely ruptured disk that was not only useless, it was also compressing a nerve root than ran the length of my entire left leg. Serious pain. As in no longer able to walk without tears pain. Two trips to the ER pain. Pain that strong medication like Lortab and Percocet could not even begin to touch.
It sucked.
The diagnosis and surgeryy happened so quickly I didn't really have time to worry about it until afterward. That's when I started thinking about how serious it was, about how many things could have gone incredibly, horribly wrong.
I have three children, two with special needs. I am not allowed to be sick or unwell. I am not allowed to sit out of the game.
But for two weeks I have been expected to do just that. Bed rest, with only limited breaks every few hours for a little walking. The couch or the bed have been my unwilling home these last few weeks. I have hated every waking minute of it. The sleeping ones were not much better, as getting comfortable with fresh, scabbed, two-inch incision in your lower back is kind of hard to do.
A few days ago, I took myself off the pain medication and off bed rest. My surgeon would probably not be impressed, but I didn't ask. I started slow, just getting out of the house for half an hour did a world of good. Sunday's baseball adventure was even better. But of course, it made me want more. I am tired of laying around the house, seeing all the things that need to be done and being expected not to do them. I am getting up to do things, and then going back to rest. The laptop is a good friend on the couch, and a new Nook book also helps. But I will not stay there for hours at a time any more. I simply cannot do it.
Today I am planning to help Josh with the boys at speech therapy. I will wait in the truck with two of the boys while he takes each twin in for their individual therapy. I do not think I am quite up to participating in therapy that often involves rolling around on the floor, physcially coralling five-year olds, or turns in the occupational therapy play room (think lots of swings, crash mats and sensory-seeking heaven toys).
Slowly. I am trying to be good.
We will overlook the fact that the first thing I did this morning after not being able to fall back asleep was to get up, clean the inch-layer of dust off all three ceiling fans in the living room and play room (which, of course, has been mocking me these last few weeks as I lay on the couch since I can see all three of them). I also may or may not have vaccuumed most of the house (all but the bedrooms) after said inch-layer of dust left the fans and sprinkled brilliantly all over the floors. It went well with the dog hair from the big, spoiled puppy. So really, I had no choice.
But then I took a break. Really. And the only other things on my list for today are folding the load of laundry in the dryer (will take 15 minutes, tops) and writing some thank-you notes to all of the wonderful friends and family who have helped us these last few weeks, whether helping with the boys, sending over food or gift cards for food, or just being there for us. And I can even do that one sitting down.
But I will not go back to the couch or the bed all day long. I will not take the awful pain medicine that was making me sleepy and sick and ... well, let's face it ... cranky and hateful.
Tomorrow we have another baseball game. And maybe one day this week I can convince Josh to take me out to lunch before his leave ends and he has to go back to work (he's been off the last two weeks taking care of the kiddos and the house and me). My appetite is slowly returning, though I still feel sick to my stomach when I am up on my feet for too long. And surely I will be allowed to drive again soon, especially now that I am off the of the stronger medication.
Slowly, but surely, just like I alwasys say with the boys. Nothing comes easy or quickly, but it comes just the same. I am finally starting to feel more like myself again, and that is a wonderful thing.
More of the usual programming again soon ... especially as I can get up and get back to my other hobby, playing with my camera!
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Sliding to a Close
Just one more week of Fall baseball. Connor will miss it terribly. He will ask every day how soon until Spring baseball starts. The twins will be thankful another season has ended (and will curse in their own language every time Connor even mentions Spring baseball).
Just two games, and the season will be done. It's hard to believe it's gone by so fast. We have very much enjoyed the new league, and have been so impressed by not only Connor's coaches, but even by the other teams' coaches. Everyone is always trying to help the players become better, to know the right way to handle every play or even the right way to stand at bat. There are no teams, everyone is out there to show everyone how to play the game. And that's something that was sorely missing from Connor's last league. We've found our new baseball home (as Connor cheers and the twins protest).
Because we have a wonderful, supportive family, Connor has not missed a game all season. Daddy and brothers have taken him. Grammy and Pappy. Grandma and Grandpa. Someone always volunteered to make sure not only Connor, but all of the boys, made it everywhere they needed to be these last few weeks. We are so thankful to have such an amazing, supportive family.
Given my recent medical problems and surgery, I have missed quite a few games. And I hate that. I took all three boys to most of the early practices and games, generally by myself. But I have missed most of the second half of the season.
Today I snuck out. I am technically supposed to be on bed rest (with limited walking every few hours) for another week. I'm also supposed to still be on pain medication. But the walls were closing in, and the pain medicine was only making me sick to my stomach (on the plus side, I'm down about 10 pounds).
Yesterday was my first day out. Josh and I snuck up the street to the local Orange Leaf for some ice cream (chocolate ice cream with white chocolate chips and fresh strawberries for me, too many different flavors for Josh to count). Grammy was at home with the boys, as both her and Pappy had come to town to help with the twins while Connor played a makeup game yesterday. Two days in a row at the baseball field - the twins were really not happy with us.
Today I decided to take my first real car ride. I am still stiff and sore. But I feel better. I just get tired really quickly. And I still feel incredibly weak (probably that whole not eating thing). But I did it.
I even surprised Connor at the dugout after the game and walked him back to the truck. His face lit up to see me back at the ball field. He reached out and wanted to hold my hand, the whole way back. He's usually too much of a big boy to do that anymore. But he did, and kept looking up at me like he couldn't believe I was really there.
That's been the hard part of all this. The pain was bad, the surgery was a little scary (as most surgeries can be). But the recovery, the sleeping all day or sitting on the couch, watching life pass you by. That's the frustrating part.
I know I have to be good. I can't rush back, do too much, too soon. But I had to get out of the house. I had to stop feeling so sick and sleepy all the time. Slowly, I have to start living life again. I have a husband I miss and three wild and crazy little boys to chase around. Daddy's going to have to go back to work again soon, and Mommy's ready to get back to being Mommy again.
Just two games, and the season will be done. It's hard to believe it's gone by so fast. We have very much enjoyed the new league, and have been so impressed by not only Connor's coaches, but even by the other teams' coaches. Everyone is always trying to help the players become better, to know the right way to handle every play or even the right way to stand at bat. There are no teams, everyone is out there to show everyone how to play the game. And that's something that was sorely missing from Connor's last league. We've found our new baseball home (as Connor cheers and the twins protest).
Because we have a wonderful, supportive family, Connor has not missed a game all season. Daddy and brothers have taken him. Grammy and Pappy. Grandma and Grandpa. Someone always volunteered to make sure not only Connor, but all of the boys, made it everywhere they needed to be these last few weeks. We are so thankful to have such an amazing, supportive family.
Given my recent medical problems and surgery, I have missed quite a few games. And I hate that. I took all three boys to most of the early practices and games, generally by myself. But I have missed most of the second half of the season.
Today I snuck out. I am technically supposed to be on bed rest (with limited walking every few hours) for another week. I'm also supposed to still be on pain medication. But the walls were closing in, and the pain medicine was only making me sick to my stomach (on the plus side, I'm down about 10 pounds).
Yesterday was my first day out. Josh and I snuck up the street to the local Orange Leaf for some ice cream (chocolate ice cream with white chocolate chips and fresh strawberries for me, too many different flavors for Josh to count). Grammy was at home with the boys, as both her and Pappy had come to town to help with the twins while Connor played a makeup game yesterday. Two days in a row at the baseball field - the twins were really not happy with us.
Today I decided to take my first real car ride. I am still stiff and sore. But I feel better. I just get tired really quickly. And I still feel incredibly weak (probably that whole not eating thing). But I did it.
I even surprised Connor at the dugout after the game and walked him back to the truck. His face lit up to see me back at the ball field. He reached out and wanted to hold my hand, the whole way back. He's usually too much of a big boy to do that anymore. But he did, and kept looking up at me like he couldn't believe I was really there.
That's been the hard part of all this. The pain was bad, the surgery was a little scary (as most surgeries can be). But the recovery, the sleeping all day or sitting on the couch, watching life pass you by. That's the frustrating part.
I know I have to be good. I can't rush back, do too much, too soon. But I had to get out of the house. I had to stop feeling so sick and sleepy all the time. Slowly, I have to start living life again. I have a husband I miss and three wild and crazy little boys to chase around. Daddy's going to have to go back to work again soon, and Mommy's ready to get back to being Mommy again.
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