Thursday, April 10, 2008

A Show of Humanity

I've been sick since Saturday evening. Today is Wednesday and, while I'm feeling better, I'm still a bit run down still. I started feeling bad Saturday at dinner time and I went to bed early. I woke up several times during the night and barely made it to the bathroom before loosing my dinner.

By the time Tuesday rolled around, I was whipped. I hadn't eaten anything that I could keep down since my lunch on Saturday. Even water wasn't staying around long. The Asst. Zookeeper announced that he was taking the night off work and that I was going down to the hospital. I didn't even argue - I was relieved.

The ER was busy Tuesday night. After chatting with the nurse (who didn't even make eye contact with me), I went to spend the next hour and a half in the waiting room. It's really hard to curl up in one of those chairs when you don't feel well, but I managed.

Once I was taken back, I met Dr. Lewitt. He's probably in his mid to late fifties. He came into my area, introduced himself, shook my hand. And he made eye contact with me this entire time - none of that chart-flipping that doctors tend to do.

Then he startled me. He SAT DOWN. He would ask me a question and look at me while I answered, then he would write something after I had finished my answer. Then he would ask the next question. He was very personable and never appeared to be in a hurry.

After I'd been hooked to an IV for fluids for a while, he came back in and said that he wanted me to drink some juice. If I could keep it down, then I would be allowed to go home. He listed the drinks they had available and I picked one. Then he went and got it HIMSELF, and brought me a cup with ice and poured it for me.

I left the hospital thinking that he was a really great doctor. But then, he called the house on Wednesday to check on me. The Asst. Zookeeper talked to him. He said he was just calling to see how I was doing since he had released me from the ER. I've NEVER had a doctor call my house for any reason. Usually, it's a secretary who calls, and that's just about making or rescheduling an appointments. He calls himself just to see if I was doing better.

Wow.

Bowling with 6 year olds

We had a bowling party for Gavin and his classmates. Of the 15 kids in his class, only 7 were able to come. This turned out to be a blessing in disguise as I happened to be fairly sick that day. Dealing with the 8 of them was about as much as I could handle.

The kids all got to bowl for one hour. Our bowling alley put out the bumpers to prevent gutter balls. And they also gave us ramps for the kids to us. They could roll their balls down the ramp and onto the lane so that they had a little more speed. They kids thought that was great - for the first half hour. Then no one wanted to bowl anymore.

I had forgotten how fast kids that age get bored with something. My Heathens will bowl for well over an hour, but that's with family. The party crew decided that they were going to play hide-n-seek. And they managed it pretty well without getting under any one's feet or causing trouble.

Here's the song bit:

I love how he's holding his breath forever while he waits for us to finish singing. And the declaration of "I'm 6!" at the end was really cute. I love birthdays.

Wednesday, April 2, 2008

Looking Back at Gavin

And today is Heathen #2's birthday! He's finally 6! He's filled a whole hand and moved onto the second hand.

I was so excited when I found out I was pregnant with Gavin. Even though we already had Tristan, I felt like we would finally be a "family" once Gavin was born. Which really makes no sense since we were a family as soon as Tristan was born. Gavin gave me more of a sense of completeness.

What a challenge this child has been. This is the child my mother always wished on me. Stubborn to a fault. Always knows the answer. And will ALWAYS have the last word, even if it kills him.

He's also one of the most loving little boys I know. When he chooses to be, that is. And he never leaves for school without giving me a hug and a kiss. He loves telling me what he did at school during the day and showing me all of his papers. He glows when you give him praise.

I can't imagine life without fighting with Gavin daily. It would be too easy. And way too boring.

Monday, March 31, 2008

Spaghetti & Chocolate Ice Cream

Why is it that my Heathens only get sick in the middle of the night when they have eaten some really NASTY combination of food?

Last night, Heathen #3 had spaghetti for dinner and chocolate ice cream for dessert. This was around 6:30.

At 12:30 this morning, I heard him over in his room, fussing in his sleep. I went over and calmed him down. He rolled over and went back to sleep.

At 1 am, he started fussing again. Before I could even get our of bed, I heard IT. The noise that any mother can identify. The noise of a child throwing up in their bed. And I cringed. I had just put clean sheets on his bed before I tucked him in that night!

Heathen #3 is not really old enough to understand the idea of "run to the bathroom, throw up in the toilet" concept just yet. All he knows is that he doesn't feel good, he's tired, and I yank him out of bed and drag him to the bathroom.

I covered him up with a blanket on the bathroom floor and went to clean him bed - what a lovely combination spaghetti and chocolate ice cream make! By the time I got back to the bathroom, he was asleep on the floor with his legs and arms tucked under his belly. Just like a small baby sleeps.

I transferred him into his clean bed. And I decided I would read a book for an hour or so. I've learned in 10 years that if they can puke once, they'll usually puke again. Three times seems to be the rule for emptying the stomach of a Heathen.

Sure enough, half an hour later, I heard him wake up - but I got there in time! After getting him tucked in again, I decided I may as well start a load of laundry.

Then again, around 2 am, we had our third and final round. Stomach empty, he went to bed and didn't get up until this morning. At that point he requested Cocoa Puffs for breakfast!

Birthday Parties Galore!

For Heathen #1's birthday dinner, we headed to Chuck E. Cheese's. Even at 10, he still loves to play. Here he is with his pizza.


















Heathen #3 used his tickets to get 3 lollipops and decided that he needed to eat them all at the same time.
















This weekend was the big "BIRTHDAY PARTY" that we throw for my two oldest Heathens and my oldest neice. Their birthdays are March 27, March 28, and April 2. We rent a local fire hall, and invite all three families. It is SO much easier and neither family has to clean the house.

This year's themes were Curious George, Thomas, and Sponge Bob. The kids had a great time. It's a chance for them to run wild in a big room where they really can't cause any harm.

Heathen #1 also had his birthday party for his friends on Sunday. He had a swimming party at our local YMCA. It went really well. Here's the big moment:

We took my nephew to Heathen #1's party with us. He's about 9 months older than Heathen #3 and they have a great time together. Here are the boys.


And Heathen #2 wants to say hello as well. Having a camera around with my Heathens is the same as trying to talk to someone on the phone. All you hear are shouts of, "ME TOO!"

Friday, March 28, 2008

Honest Abe

Here he is! I just got back from the elementary school after watching Heathen #1's presentation.


The kids in the class were allowed to ask questions after the presentation was over. This is the only question that anyone asked my Heathen:




And some of the photos I snapped:

Looking Back at Tristan

Today Heathen #1 is 10 years old. Wow.

I remember when he was born and the nurses in the nursery showed all of the "first-timers" how to bathe a baby. It looked so easy as she showed us, but I remember being afraid to try. He was so new.

Obviously I got over that fear. But it was replaced many times over with new fears as he grew. I was afraid to clip his fingernails the first time. His fingers were so tiny.
I was afraid to leave him in daycare the first time. What if he was miserable?
I was afraid when he learned to ride a quad at age five - even though it had an emergency kill switch and only went slowly. What if he fell off?
I was afraid to send him to kindergarten. What if he didn't make any friends? What if he didn't like it?
I was afraid to send him to overnight camp the first time. What if he was homesick?

Those are only the fears that I remember off the top of my head. I know there were a million more in the past 10 years.

I remember sleepless nights when he was small and was sick and I was worried. I remember sleepless nights when he just wasn't sleepy and I just wanted to choke him! I remember sleepless nights when I've just laid awake and worried over something concerning him.

I've cried in frustration with him. I've cried with excitement for him. I've cried in pride of him.

Ten years. On one hand it seems like a lifetime ago that he didn't exist. But on the other, he's grown so fast. I guess it was a lifetime ago. Or a different lifetime, when my world didn't revolve around someone else. But I wouldn't change it, not for all the fears, frustrations, tears. Because it has been more joy, love, and laughter than I could have imagined.