Go, Team!

It's time for all Chicagoans to start cheering for their favorite team...

 The West Virginia Mountaineers!

We're ready and suited up!  

You?

Mommy Syllabus Shock?

I remember, back when I was in college, those first days of classes.  You'd walk in, learn about the upcoming semester, get the syllabus and walk out in a cold sweat because HOW IN THE HECK AM I GOING TO READ AND DO ALL THIS IN ONE QUARTER?!

I mean, I'm not the only one who dealt with syllabus shock, right?  I'm pretty sure it's a thing.  Yeah.  It's a thing.

So what's the mom version of syllabus shock?  Because I think I'm experiencing it right now.

Really, truly, these last couple weeks have been crazy-pants.  And I only have ONE kid in school!  And it's preschool... only three days a week... for only 2.5 hours a day.

I was trying to process why I've felt so out of my mind, overwhelmed and just plain flaky.  It probably defies definition, but here's what I think are major contributors:

  

Riley started preschool.  In the afternoon.  I think the afternoon thing has thrown me for a couple reasons.  First, knowing that I have to get Riley to preschool on time, in the middle of the day, looms over me for the entire morning.  I get super anxious if I'm late, so even though it's only 8 am, I find myself checking my watch and trying to plan out every moment up to departure time, so we can be on time.  Second, Brooks and Noelle still nap in the afternoon.  This means that I drop Riley off, throw the other two in bed, let them sleep, then have to wake them up.  Who wants to wake up a peacefully napping kid?!  Not me. 

I've been stressed about Brooks.  My sweet guy recently was hospitalized overnight because of wheezing and airway constriction.   Then, at his 9-month check-up (that we went to when he was a little over 10 months... Oops.), I walked out with orders to FIVE other doctors.  Ugh.  He will be just fine, but it was a little much.

The kids are so close to together but are in different stages.  Riley's in preschool, Noelle would LOVE to be in preschool but is still too young, and Brooks is still just kind of chilling, taking in the world.  Here's a good example: Riley gets herself into her carseat herself, Noelle can snap the top clasp, and Brooks still happily gets lugged around a latched in.

Anyway, I find myself conscious of the fact that I'm not firing on all cylinders.  Yesterday, despite the fact that I had it written down in two places and had had a conversation about it, I found myself calling my friend to confirm a playdate because I just didn't trust the state of my mind or memory.  Argh.

Long story short-- I'm clearly a person of routines.  And I'm pretty excited for our routines to get themselves rooted firmly in place.

Apple Picking

 Michael took Thursday and Friday off this past week, and we had an absolutely phenomenal weekend as a family.  I loved loved loved it. 

On Saturday, we loaded ourselves into the van and headed to Kuiper's apple orchard.  We were really hoping that the long-ish trip would pay off.  And it did.  It really did.  Honestly, it was just about as great as I could have imagined it. 

First stop-- tractors.

Then we "played" this absurdly dangerous game.  It's actually set up like cornhole, with two of these platforms.  You're supposed to chuck these fairly heavy washers into the hole.  And as you can see, they're decorated to appeal to kids, so I can only assume that they intend for the game to test out the dads' willpower and discretion (Should I toss this thing while my toddler is running in front of me?  I think I have good enough aim...)

We posed for some sweet apple-themed pictures.

And then we took our hayride out to the "main event"-- apple picking!

This was way better than I thought it could possibly be.  First, there was next to no one there.  I'm not a big fan of the crowds.  Second, the trees were loaded with apples.  Third, the apples were super low to the ground, so the girls could pick them easily.  And they were in such good shape that we didn't really even have to filter the girls' choices.

Brooks made it easy on us by being his content self.

Riley coordinated her own little model shoot.

Noelle double-fisted the apples.

Yes, Kuiper's, we did indeed start a family tradition.  We'll see you next year!!

I'm a Big Dude!

Brooks is (a little over) 10 months old! 

 I have moments when I start to lament the baby years. 

 I mean, seriously, how could I NOT?  This guy is just so freaking sweet!

 He's in that really great stage where he's curious and fun.  He loves sitting outside and watching cars drive by, though I don't think he quite "gets" what they are.

 He's a little goofball and is so very very happy.  Anyone who works with him in the nursery at church or WSC falls in love.

 Oh, and he was a huge hit when we went to Jo-Ann's yesterday.  It was the first time he sat in the cart and not just in his carseat, so he was charming everyone.  On a side note, they may or may not know me there... 

 Look at these big puppy dog eyes!

 Brooks wasn't certain about this lying down pose... not that he crawls or moves anywhere.  He just likes to sit and observe.

 But things can't be all bad when you have a buddy with you.

Oh, and in case you forgot that there are two other cute kiddos in the mix, here's what his sisters were doing.

 Riley absolutely loves her "big girl bike" and is doing a pretty awesome job riding it.

 She also chose her accessory... which I bought back in the day when I thought bigger was better.  I do still think this bow is pretty awesome, but it is also-- perhaps-- just a touch too big.  Just a touch.

I'll tell ya-- I'm a pretty blessed mommy.

Meltdown Morning

Today, apparently, was the day designated for meltdowns of the massive, extremely loud, and public variety.  Let's start with the second one, which came courtesy of this little lady:

Hard to believe with an expression like that, am I right?  Right. 

The scene-- Trader Joe's.  We're just grabbing a few things, and both girls are nicely pushing their little carts around.  We've done very well.  Neither girl has clipped anyone's heels.  Everyone's pretty happy.  Then we hit the chip aisle.  Something you should know about us: whenever we hit TJ's, we pick up a bag of veggie chips.  The girls love those things.  They both like getting the privilege of putting said chips in their carts.  Today was Riley's turn.  She grabbed the chips.  Noelle screamed and grabbed her own bag.  I told her it was Riley's turn and that, look! she has the cheese crackers!  Yay.  She tried to put the cheese crackers back.  I took them from her and put them back in her cart.  She threw them on the floor.  I told her that she didn't get to have the veggie chips, but next time... She screamed.  She shrieked.  She had giant alligator tears running down her cheeks.  She stomped then planted herself.  I pulled her cart behind me and told her that it was time to pay (for the food, that is... but oh, how I wanted to make her pay... just kidding... kind of...)  She continued to shriek but eventually followed.  I ignored the looks of the other customers, though I should have just given them all a thumbs-up (maybe a high five?).  We don't have frequent public meltdowns, but when we do, run for the hills. 

Oh, and apparently they come in pairs, too.  Earlier, we were at Riley's second tennis lesson.  I knew that her instructor was going to be Gus, so I tried to gear her up for a male coach.  I thought it may be something of an issue. 

It was. 

She clung to me as we stood outside the courts, getting ready to go in.  I told her I'd walk with her onto the courts.  We got in, and I realized that she had my hand in a vice grip.  I tried prying her fingers off.  No dice.  I tried to get her to run with the other girl in the class.  Nope.  I told her I'd stay sitting while she did a lap around the court.  Still nothing.  I pleaded with her: This will be so fun!  Gus is nice!  Look how much fun everyone is having!!  She melted into a puddle of tears and sorrow.  I mean, we're talking full-blown, gushing tears.  Gus looked at me and whispered, "Want to wait for the next class with Hillary?"  Yes.  Yes, I do.  'Cause, clearly, this is going nowhere.  (Sidenote: class with Hillary was great.  No problems whatsoever.)

It kind of makes you wonder-- what does Brooks have in store for me when he gets up from his nap? :)

Work it.

Michael gave Riley a "new" camera, his old camera that he found while going through the garage.  I'll post more of our budding photographer's images later, but for now, I am putting aside my pride to share these with you.  Enjoy. :)

Yeah.  The girl's still got it.

Thanking God for Tiny Breaths

Sunday morning, Brooks woke up around 5:00, crying and congested.  I tried to feed him and put him back down, but he was inconsolable.  Both Michael and I tried everything-- from walking with him to playing to giving him a bath.  He was having none of it.  It was around 7:30 that I noticed that he was sucking in air big time, his little chest heaving and his ribcage showing with each breath.  Clearly, I was concerned.

I popped Brooks in the car and drove over to the Urgent Care.  It may be the only time that I'll be grateful for a screaming baby in the car.  As long as he was crying, I knew he was breathing.

Let me pause this story to say that I'm still amazed at how little I know.  I was, obviously, really worried about Little Dude (and got more and more concerned as I drove), but never did I anticipate the following hospitalization.  Sheesh.

Okay, so we get to Urgent Care, which-- thankfully-- is pretty empty.  I walk up to the desk and say, "Honestly, I just want to see if I need to take this guy to the ER."  They quickly take Brooks back to check him out.  They see the wheezing, look at his tummy sucking in and out, and they tell me that, sure enough, we'll be heading to the ER.  But we'll be doing it in an ambulance.

The nurses start Brooks on a nebulizer, and Matt and Eddie, a couple really sweet EMTs, show up a few minutes later.  They lift the bed, me and Brooks up and into the ambulance, and we head out.  Matt gives Brooks a stuffed horse, a Clydesdale who we name Bud.  Eddie tells us not to have too much fun in the back.  I think about how the girls would be really thrilled to be doing everything that Brooks is getting to do.

My concept of time was foggy the whole day, but we spent quite a few hours in the ER, Brooks getting frequent treatments.  A respiratory specialist came in with another guy who was in training.  As Mr. Trainee looked at Brooks, the specialist told him, "See, he's classic."  I'm still not sure if I'm sure what that meant, but I think she was talking about his "retractions," how he was sucking in the air.  But look at this guy-- still smiling!

Brooks was so grateful to be breathing easily that he zonked out during one of his treatments!

I think it was around noon when we learned that we would be staying at the hospital for awhile.  They had gotten us a bed in Pediatric Short Stay.  The nurse, Rachelle, was sweet and wonderful.  However, it was an extremely short stay for us.  We were the only people up there, so they soon sent down to the main Peds floor.  We were getting an excellent tour of the facility.

On the Peds floor, we met Pam, our new nurse.  And we landed in the room that we would be in for the next 24 hours or so.  Brooks was doing really great.  I mean, really, Big Man was a CHAMP.  He was sweet and cooperative and wonderful.  The treatments were really helping him, and I no longer noticed the wheezing until he started getting close to the next treatment time.  Again, I thought about how Riley and Noelle would envy their little brother.  The Peds floor has a playroom with a train table, a bazillion other toys, and a giant fish tank, complete with a puffer fish and multiple "Nemos." :)  We snagged some toys for our room.

 

I'll fast-forward and tell you that we were there till around 2 on Monday, when Brooks was able to go 4 hours between treatments without wheezing.  We were on our third nurse at this time, Melissa, who just happens to be the wife of one of our pastors.  Small world!  (And a volunteer, Kaitlyn, goes to Taylor and is good friends with Mike's cousin!)

Basically, it's not certain he has asthma.  There have to be recurrences in order to establish that.  Something obviously didn't sit well with that tiny respiratory system, and his airways reacted.  We don't know exactly what that was, but if something like this happens again, we'll have to start looking for a pattern.  Right now, we have our own nebulizer, are praying that he does NOT have asthma, and are thanking God for each tiny breath.