Them's the Breaks

Apparently, Max thought that it had been too long since he saw his buddies up at the hospital and decided it was time for a visit. We've had a rough couple of days -- Wednesday evening I was getting Max ready for his bath. He was running around in his room while I got everything ready. He followed me into the bathroom when I went to turn off the water then promptly turned around, ran back into his room, and shut the door. I turned off the water and grabbed his baby soap when I heard a crash and a scream. I ran into his room to discover that Max had pulled his dresser down on himself and his leg was pinned underneath (for anyone who, like us, hadn't quite gotten around to anchoring large furniture to the wall -- go do it ... tonight). Max was crying and didn't seem to keen on standing up, although he could wiggle his toes and would put a little weight on his leg. But, that was too darn scary for me, so I packed him up and we drove to the emergency room (opting to take the longer drive to the big hospital where Max was born, because I know them and trust them). He cried all the way -- since he normally doesn't cry more than a few minutes over anything, I knew I was right to drag him in to the ER right away.

We had a fairly painless ER visit (even though I was dousing the boy with Purell frequently, since there were some little RSV patients in the Pediatric ER with us). They gave Max an ice pack and some Motrin while we waited for x-rays. The Motrin made him feel much better and he was acting like his normal chipper self (although he didn't want to move off of my lap). The x-rays revealed that he had a fracture in his femur. The good news was that it wasn't a bad fracture -- it didn't go all the way through the bone and nothing had moved. The bad news is that the only way to cast that fracture on someone Max's age is to put them in a partial body cast (spica cast). Once the cast was on, Max would be totally immobile until the cast came off in 4-6 weeks. Ugh, trying to keep a toddler happy and still for an hour can be challenging -- trying to keep him happy and still for a month+ will be quite a feat.

They couldn't cast him that night -- they wanted to wait until any swelling went down before casting him. So, they admitted him to the hospital and had him stay over night and planned to cast him the next morning. I called Dad to tell him the bad news. Grandma was able to come and stay with Molly so that Dad could meet us up at the hospital. Since I had to go home to feed Molly, Dad would stay with Max overnight.

The pediatric unit was packed, so Max ended up in the "penthouse" room with two roommates, instead of the normal one. It was about 11 p.m. by the time they checked us in and Max was very tired and crabby. After a couple unsuccessful attempts to check his blood pressure, they let us try to get him to sleep. I ended up climbing up into the hospital crib with him and lying down with him until he drifted off. Just like at home, he put his hands behind his head to fall asleep -- he looks so cute and debonair. Once Max was asleep, I went home to relieve Grandma and try to get some sleep. I was hoping that Max was tired enough to sleep deeply, but Mr. Light Sleeper was still a light sleeper even though he was exhausted. He woke up every time a nurse came into the room or whenever anyone moved around or made noise (which, in a large hospital with two roommates, was at least every half hour). Poor Dad didn't get much sleep either.

Molly and I headed up the hospital yesterday morning. They took Max down to start getting him ready for casting around 10 a.m. After no sleep and no food and a trip to get an IV placed, he wasn't a very happy camper. In order to put a cast on a two year old, they had to put Max under general anesthetic (blah). Although they originally thought they'd have to intubate him, they ended up not having to do a full intubation (which I was happy about -- he's already spent too much time on a ventilator for my taste). The doctors also decided that he didn't need a full spica cast, but that they'd cast his broken leg from toe to hip with a band around his hips/lower torso. Dad, Molly, and I stayed with him until he was ready to go back to the operating room, and then I went back and stayed with him until he was asleep. I had to laugh when the doctors and nurses told me what a "good job" I did watching them put medicine through his IV to knock him out. :P Heck, I've seen intubations, extubations, spinal taps, PICC line attempts, IV being placed, ROP exams, etc., etc. -- that was nothing!

Everything went well and Max was a trooper. He got to have his very first popsicle in recovery and he thought that was pretty good (and got it ALL over). The hospital sent someone down to set us up with a kiddie wheelchair and a special car seat. Happily, since he didn't have the full spica cast, Max still fits into his regular car seat. They were ready to discharge him around 2 p.m., but we had to stay until he peed (and he didn't want to!), so we didn't leave until closer to 5 p.m. I have to say that, once again, I'm impressed with the care we received at the hospital. The doctors, nurses, and staff were all great. It would have been nice to have been able to swing by the NICU while we were all up there, but we figured we'd stop in and visit when Max gets his cast off (since he wasn't at his best). Molly also gets a couple of kudos -- she spent the whole day with us at the hospital and was a little angel. She flirted with all the doctors and nurses and everyone oohed and aahed over her (of course, what parent doesn't like to hear how cute and well behaved their baby is ;).

Max was exhausted last night and seemed glad to sleep in his own bed. We put him down at 7 p.m. (his normal bedtime) and he slept like a rock until almost 8 a.m. this morning. We're adapting to life with an immobile toddler -- I think it is going to be a long few weeks! Diapering him is a big challenge -- we have to use several different layers to keep everything clean and neat. First we take an incontinence pad and put it in a small (Molly's size) diaper. Then we put that in a small adult diaper. Then we tuck the plastic edges of the adult diaper around the inner diaper/pad layer and then tuck everything under the edges of the cast (the idea is that only the waterproof plastic on the outside of the adult diaper is actually touching the cast, so it can't possibly get wet). Then we have to take another adult diaper and put it on the normal way, to hold everything in place. That seemed like too many layers of paper and plastic over his skin, so I took an old pair of my panties and cut them open at the sides and pinned them in place to hold everything together (instead of using the second adult diaper on top of everything). I did tell him this is the only time he is allowed to wear women's underwear. ;) We'll see how that works. I might just get some fabric and velcro and make a couple "cast covers" for him.

Max is not happy about being stuck in one spot. We set up a beanbag chair for him downstairs and we have the wheelchair to use. So far, he's been watching an awful lot of "Dee dees" (Baby Einsteins) and getting spoiled rotten. He still was tired today and crabby -- he's getting some souped up Tylenol for pain. Hopefully we'll all adjust and find a new routine and muddle through the next month. I went out to the library and got him a stack of books and some Baby Einstein DVDs that he hasn't seen. I also bought him some big crayons and a travel magnadoodle. I'm hoping we can find some stationary things for him to do besides watching DVDs. It about broke my heart when I was putting on my shoes and getting ready to go, because Max looked up at me with pleading eyes and said, "Mama, walk. Go!" He saw my shoes and wanted me to take him for a walk. :( Poor little guy!

We're hoping for a speedy recovery and that his fracture heals in four weeks instead of six. We'll keep you posted!

Twice Two

Today marks the anniversary of Max's "second" second birthday (to steal a phrase from Sarah). March 26 was his original due date and, if we were still using adjusted age, Max would now be closer to two developmentally, even though his actual birthday was three months ago. Max is definitely every bit of two, no matter how you count it! His latest kick is wanting to do certain things himself. When we read a story, he wants to hold the book and turn all of the pages himself. When we go for a walk, he wants to run down the sidewalk himself (holding Mama's hand is for babies). He doesn't want a bite of your food, he wants you to give him his own piece, so he can hold it himself.

Max has also turned into a little parrot -- he'll try to repeat just about anything he hears. He was in the car with me the other day when I was using the GPS system to find a new way to reach my destination (since the street I normally used was blocked by a truck and a bus). Every time the GPS would instruct me to take a "left turn," Max would say "leff tun" using the exact same intonation. He kept that up the whole way -- it was pretty funny.

We're definitely enjoying the nice weather we've had for the past few days. I missed out on all of the summer fun last year, since I was on bed rest for most of the summer and then I had a preemie newborn to look after. Needless to say, I'm planning on making this summer count for double. ;) Max is so happy to get out of the house and run around. We've been going for lots of walks and making lots of visits to our neighborhood park. Max has discovered that the kiddie slide is FUN. He wants to go down it again and again and cries when it is time to go home. He is also very interested in sticks and rocks and pieces of grass (which he picks up and gives to me to inspect).

As you can see, it's good to be two (again)!

Word Cloud

As a public service, for those of you who don't have time to wade through all of my blather, here's the quintessence of this blog:

Make one for yourself on this website.

(Note: Recent lack of blog updates and photos is due to the appearance of tooth number five (top middle right incisor). Since we're still in the throes of tooth numbers three and four as well, sleep is in short supply 'round these parts.)

The Wearing of the Green

Happy St. Patrick's Day! We celebrated as we usually do, by wearing a bit of green, cooking up a St. Patty's Day feast (corned beef, colcannon, and soda bread), and watching The Quiet Man. Some beer was consumed, although we skipped the Guinness and went with a domestic brew. Apparently the Irish genes that I'm sporting didn't include a love of stout.

Earlier in the day we went out and did some shopping. We discovered that Best Buy is a little boy's paradise -- buttons, buttons everywhere! Max eyes lit up when he saw remote after remote displayed in the TV aisle and he kept saying "More!" (adding the sign for extra emphasis) when we looked at the phone display. He seemed sorry to leave, even though we did buy a new phone system for the house and let him play with the old (nonfunctioning) cordless telephone when we got home.

In other news, Molly is cutting her third and fourth tooth (bottom side left incisor and top middle left incisor). We spotted the bottom tooth last week, but were surprised to find that a top tooth was coming in as well. This probably explains why she's been hasn't been sleeping well the last couple of days. She has also discovered that she can get anywhere she wants by rollings and now loves to get down on the floor and play. Max is less thrilled with this new development, since her newfound mobility also means that she can get into his toys. He's started saying, "no, no, no" to her (the same way I say it to him) when she has something that he wants. Molly has also started really trying to push herself up and get her knees under her, so we're thinking it won't be long before she's up and rocking on all fours. She's still enjoying her cereal, although she isn't the eating machine that Max was at the same age. We've worked our way through all the different types of baby cereal, so we'll probably try out some veggies soon.

Max is definitely working his way through the terrible twos. He has discovered the joy of throwing tantrums and will now howl, fling himself to the floor, and writhe around when things don't go his way (and, when you're two, this happens a lot). He started saying "yes" the other day when you ask him questions. I was talking to him and I asked him the rhetorical "So, I suppose that's a yes?" question. I was surprised when he solemnly replied, "yesh" with a firm nod of his head. He's also discovered that the word "no" can be used on other people besides himself. If you try to get him to do something he doesn't want to do, he'll now say "no!" and, in most cases, turn into boneless boy and collapse on the floor. Since the weather was really nice last week, I was able to takes the babies out for several walks (which Max loves). Now as soon as he sees his tennis shoes he starts saying, "Wah" (walk) and "Go!"

We finally got Max a potty the other week and a copy of Once Upon a Potty. He is very enthused about the "pah-pee" (potty) and is totally loves the book. There is one page of the book where it repeats "and he sat and sat and sat and sat" many times. For some reason this is Max's favorite page -- he always wants me to read it again and he refers to the book itself as "and sat and sat and sat." We've been sitting him on the potty a few times a day, just to get him used to the concept (since I don't think he's really ready yet). We were thrilled when he actually peed on the potty this week, although we suspect that it was more by coincidence than by design. Of course there was much cheering and clapping and a cookie reward. Hopefully the trend will continue, especially since Max is getting increasingly adept at removing his pants and his diaper.

Five Years

It's hard to believe that five years have passed since we said our vows and exchanged our rings and walked down the aisle as man and wife. In some ways, it seems like we've been married much longer than five years, since I almost can't remember what my life was like without you. In other ways, it is hard to believe that five years could have flown by so quickly. We've had our share of good times and bad times. We rejoiced with each other during the good times and the bad times only brought us closer together and made our bond stronger. We've created a beautiful family and when I look at those shining little eyes and smiling faces, I can't think of any better symbol of our love. Happy anniversary -- I'm so looking forward to the next 70. :)

Homecoming Day

We have unusual anniversaries at our house. Adjusted age birthdays, first pre-term labor hospital admission, second pre-term labor hospital admission, pPROM occurrence, etc. While most people probably don't attach any special significance to the day they brought their babies home, it is still a big deal around these parts. Most new parents head home from the hospital with a big, healthy baby strapped snugly into a carseat. We headed home shell shocked and empty handed ... day after day after day. We missed so many of those normal baby firsts -- the first feeding, the first dirty diaper, the first bath. So, the day we brought Max home was especially important to us -- it was the day we were finally able to restart the clock on our life as a family. After 67 long days in the NICU, our baby boy came home. That's still worth celebrating!

Max then (9 weeks old, 5 lbs, 3 oz):


Max now (26 months old, 30 lbs):


It doesn't seem that long ago that we were counting every gram of weight gain -- look at him now!

Baptism

We had Molly's baptism this morning. I spent the last few days running errands, making food for the post-baptism brunch, getting everyone's church clothes ready, etc. I laid everything out last night, packed the diaper bag, and readied the food for transport. I was feeling pretty prepared and ahead of the game (I should know by now that feeling never bodes well). I bought Molly a beautiful white baptism gown -- a long embroidered white gown, with a white slip and a sweet little bonnet. Since I'm one of those revolting mothers who likes dressing their kids in matching clothes, I bought Max an adorable white suit that I planned to have him wear for the baptism and for Easter. I bought him a 3T (he usually wears a 2T) and I tried on the dress shirt and jacket a couple of weeks ago. They fit just fine, so I didn't bother to wrestle him into the pants (knickers with suspenders).

I sent DH up to get him dressed this morning while I got Molly ready. After a couple of minutes he yelled down, "I think the pants are too small." "Nonsense," I yelled back, "They're 3Ts -- bring him down here." Of course, he was right -- there was no way the suspenders would fasten and the knickers wouldn't button around his fat little knees. I could have moved the buttons and made them work, but the wardrobe SNAFU already had us running late and there was no time to muck around with a needle and thread. I tucked the suspenders into the pants and we had to leave the knickers unbuttoned. I managed to finished getting Molly dressed (except for her gown, which we were going to put on at the church), and we ran around like crazy things because we were running late.

We got to the church on time (thankfully) and I hurried Molly into her dress. I had it all the way on and was tying on her bonnet when I realized I'd put it on inside out. So, I had to take it back off and put it on the right way. Everything was very nice, but we inadvertently picked a communion day for the baptism, so it was a long service. Molly was an absolute angel the whole time. Max was a perfect little gentleman for the first hour, but started to get antsy after that (after all, two year olds have limits!). We took some pictures afterwards, then headed over to Grandma's for brunch. We all had a nice time -- it's hard to beat sitting around with family and friends and eating! Everyone was very brave and ate up my ugly food, so yesterday's cooking disaster had a happy ending.

Since nap time was fast approaching and Max and Molly were getting tired and crabby, we packed up the car and headed home. As we were driving, we heard Molly do an audible diaper load. Dad and I just turned to each other and said, "Oh no" (Max chimed in with a loud "pee-you!"). Usually when Molly loads her diaper, you have about 15 seconds to get her clothes off before poo starts leaking out of her diaper (I don't know where the kid puts it all). And, to make things worse, we started her on an antibiotic for a minor infection a couple of days ago and the doctor warned her that it might give her diarrhea. Oh boy, was the doctor ever right! (As an unrelated aside, Molly now weighs 19 lbs, 12 oz with a clean diaper on -- yikes!)

Needless to say, it was not a pretty sight by the time we got home and lifted her out of her car seat. Picture a $200 white dress that has been the victim of a severe diaper explosion. There was poop EVERYWHERE. I had to strip her down while Dad got the bathtub ready. And, to add insult to injury, as soon as I removed the diaper and cleaned up the puddle o' poo, the little stinker peed all over the changing table. Since neither she nor Max would cooperate when we tried to get pictures at Grandma's house (see example above), I was planning on taking some pictures of her in her cute white dress when we got home. Foiled again! Actually, I should have taken some pictures anyway, so I could embarrass Molly in front of her future suitors, but I went right into diaper blowout panic mode and didn't think to grab the camera.

I am happy to report that with the help of a lot of hot water and my much-beloved Baby OxiClean, all of the stains came out (even the diaper cover came clean and there wasn't a white spot on it when I peeled it off of Molly). I have yet to work up the courage to put the dress back on her to get some pictures, since she's been blowing out diapers like crazy ever since. I suppose I really should take the time to thank Molly for at least waiting until after the church to load her drawers -- I don't even want to think about what would have happened if she hadn't!

When Food Gets Ugly

Sometimes you just have "one of those" cooking days, when nothing you do turns out quite right. If you're lucky, you manage to time those days so that they don't coincide with important events. Sometimes you're not that lucky.

Molly's baptism is tomorrow morning and we wanted to have a little celebratory brunch afterwards. Grandma kindly offered to have the brunch at her house and even promised to make her much-loved "Christmas" breakfast bake. So, I said I'd make up all the side dishes and bring them over on Sunday morning. I figured out what I was going to make a week or so ago -- my apple bundt cake, some blueberry muffins, and a nice fruit salad.

Things got off to a bad start when, in spite of having taken a half day of vacation from work, I didn't manage to get the grocery shopping done on Friday, like I had planned. This meant that I had to venture out and fight the weekend crowds at the grocery store, which always makes me cranky. Max came along to help me and at least provided some comic relief when he managed to grab a kiwi and, before I could stop him, yelled "BALL!" and threw it across the aisle. Needless to say, we ended up buying one more kiwi than we needed. ;)

Once we made it back home I wanted to get the food preparation started. So I started up the apple bundt cake, threw it together in good time, and put it in the oven to bake while we had dinner. It was all nice and golden brown when I took it out of the oven and it smelled wonderful. I've made this cake at least a dozen times -- usually it turns out great, but every once in a while it doesn't want to home out of the pan. This was one of those times. I ended up having to peel a couple of top chunks out of the pan and try to jigsaw puzzle them back on to the rest of the cake. Argh! So, now I'm stuck with a cake that will taste perfectly fine, but really looks like a mess.

I left the cake to finish cooling and moved on to the fruit salad. Dad helped prep most of the salad and it was looking pretty tasty ... until I made the strategic error of putting blueberries in it (what was I thinking?). Once we mixed it up and put it in the pan, the blueberries had turned all the other fruit a dingy shade of purple. Once again, it tasted perfectly fine, but really didn't look particularly appetizing.

I moved on to the muffins, thinking that they were pretty foolproof (again, I've made these before and they're always great). For some reason I thought it was perfectly acceptable to throw the blueberries in when I mixed the dry ingredients into the batter, instead of folding them in at the very last minute. I was painfully reminded WHY that's the proper way to do things when my batter turned a lovely shade of purple.

So, it appears that our friends and family will be stuck with cobbled together bundt cake, some dirty-looking fruit salad, and purple muffins for breakfast tomorrow. Maybe it's a good thing that Molly can't eat table food yet anyway. Sorry Molly -- I'll try to make it up to you with your birthday cake!