Money

So the Big Boy knows how stressed I am about money. He doesn't totally get the concept but he knows I'm trying to save money. After 10 days of both the boys with colds, not really seeming to get better I took them to the doctor - which of course was for nothing as its just colds.

But we were in the waiting room and the nurse called me up to pay the co-pay. Big Boy asked what I was doing. I said, "paying so we can see the doctor." He said, "Don't give them too much money".

Little Man = Big Boy

I know I've been using "Big Boy" as the moniker for my older son but that might have to change after today.

Today we went to a birthday part for a friend of the Big Boy (5yo) and they were all bigger boys than my Little Man (3&1/2yo). They were playing together and the group of big boys told the Little Man that he was a "baby" and couldn't join in.

What they didn't know is in the last 10 days the Little Man had moved into underpants from pull ups.

The Little Man stunned us all by pulling down his pants, pointing to his underwear and saying "I'm not baby. I'm big boy in underpants!"

Gotta love that!

Nice people

So... the people who answer the phone at Poison Control are really the nicest people!

But let me back up.  There are things I care about which my husband doesn't.  I typically try to present an argument for my reasoning, which he typically ignores.  I then try to just cover his end of the issue with my own action.  Then I start to redirect the entire family to avoid the emergency I for see. For the most part, I'm just "a worry wort".

So the battle over items on his dresser top started when the Big Boy was born. I thought the loose change could just as easily go in a piggy bank as on the top of the dresser.  So, I informed, explained what a chocking hazard it could be and bought an attractive piggy bank.  The piggy bank was ignored.  Every day, multiple time a day, if I noticed loose change I would grab it and put it in the piggy bank.  After a couple weeks, I "cashed it in" in front of him and bought something for me. As soon as the Big Boy was big enough to pick up a coin, I taught him the thrill of putting it in the piggy bank.  This lowered the risk if I missed a penny.

Then came the discussion that while I understand his quest for perfect health and desire to live forever, the daily multi-vitamin regime, and I mean over 10 pills a day, needed to be out of the reach of little hands.  These moved from the kitchen counter to his bedroom closet.  But then occasionally there would be a pill on the dresser top and I would go ballistic; or "Over React".

So, when the Little Man came walking to me with a funny look on his face, from Daddy's dresser, I asked what was wrong to which he stuck out a red tainted tongue made a sick face and asked for water, I FREAKED!  I stuck my fingers in his mouth found chewed bits of pill, which when I licked my finger tasted horrible.  

A quick review of the dresser top produced a used blister pack that said "ant" and 30 mg.  I immediately called the hubby and asked what was on his dresser.  He didn't know.  I informed him he was a complete @#$&*&(&, needed to get home immediately,  as he was taking Little Man to the emergency room and hung up.  

Next I called the lovely folks at Poison Control.

The lady was cool and calm.  She never seemed alarmed or passed judgement.  She really just tried to help.  First we had to identify what he took.  We knew it was tiny, red, 30 mg and ended in "ant".  I guessed the most likely word was "decongestant".  She identified it as a Sudafed.  Good news, the Little Man can handle it, but would be hyper for a while.  Scary news, if it had been something else we could have been pumping his stomach.  

And the Little Man, he was a trooper.  He knew I was upset, mad, working fast, but he was right there staying calm but wanting water.  Once I relaxed, he did too.

So I choose to focus on the positive.  First, he's fine.  Second, the poison control people are really lovely. Third, he's very unlikely to go through that again.  Finally, with the reorganization of our lives and some furniture arranging in our future, I think the dresser is going!

 

Bird Feeder Update

I can’t say how much I’ve come to love the bird feeder in our kitchen window. While I thought it would be fun and educational, I’m shocked at how often I find myself wandering into the kitchen just to check out the action (this has not helped my waste line).

The birds that know about are feeder are generally pretty friendly and there are clearly many birds we are feeding at this point . They have become accustomed to our presence. As long as we don’t tap on the glass of the window, they are quite willing to hang out with us in the kitchen. Oddly, I believe they sense when we have company over and are a bit quicker to fly away from our guests.

After a day of rain, which meant very few bird visits, I reached out to fill the feeder, and the birds were hover close while my hand was still out the window. Now if the feeder goes empty, they tend to polish it off in one day, they sit in the window and demand food rather loudly. We are now going through a 5 lb bag of food every other week!

Finally one bird, well at least one to our knowledge, had the courage to explore our apartment. Unfortunately it chose its daring escapade when my husband was in charge. My lovely groom takes it as a bit of a personal affront that the bird entered the kitchen. But as my older son explains, they just kept waving their arms until the bird figured out it was a “good idea” to turn and leave. This incident started the adult request that I keep the window above the feeder closed if I’m going to keep feeding them.

But it was the beginning of a new new debate has shaped among the adults in the household on whether we should be feeding these "flying rats". I was winning until the pigeons found us; then yes, I conceded to bring it down as a lot, and I do mean a lot, of "poopy" was suddenly mounting on the window seal.

However, I don't want to wast the food, so when the lovely groom is out, and I want lunch time company, I put the feeder out, eat a sandwich in the kitchen and chat with the birds. I'm sure he'll not figure out my folly as I keep the bird feeder hidden with the cleaning supplies. The boys, they are back to making piles of food on the side walk and then counting as the customers fly in.

A year ago

Marseille at night & prayers to a saint.

There are so many things I didn't know a year ago.

I knew the adoption process and paperwork were frustrating. I didn't know that adding a child to my life would be such an immensely distressing personal event. I didn't know that "the adjustment" was on both his and my side. I didn't know I would come to question my own choice in the action.

I did know my husband was a good guy. I just didn't know if I could stand another minute with him.

I did know I loved my first born. I didn't know that he would become a pillar of strength for me from which to watch and learn.

I knew I wasn't my job/career. I knew it had lost its passion for me. I didn't know that I would lose my job/career. I didn't know I would come to worry about finances as I never had in my life. That I would choose a new career that followed my passions but offers no security. I would redirect, but not reinvent myself.

I knew I was taking on more responsibility. I didn't know that it was too much. I have learned to say no more, not just to others, but more importantly to me. I don't try to do it all. I still want to do it all and the 'will to try' is a hard fire to stop.

I've learned to love myself, my hubby, my children. I've know now that I can flow, adapt. I've learned to learn from others; not to go it all alone. I've missed my friends that I've lost, but I've gained new friends (just the story of life circumstances). I'm thankful for those that have gone the distance and just stayed (it hasn't been easy to be my friend this year; I've missed dates and been out much less). I'm sorry for those friends I didn't make, as life was just too much for me to connect with anyone. There are times when I missed me this last year. And I'm sure there will be times when I get lost again. But I know from this year that I can always eventually find me, my way, my heart again. I could cry everyday. I never knew I would hit this point. And I know it is not the worst place to be.

Silence?

So when the Little Man goes down for a nap, the Big Boy often gets a good 10-15 minutes of alone play time. I keep an ear open for emergencies and generally trust him. But sometimes, there is no sound and I get worried. So I shout out, "Hey, you OK out there?" to which I get a quick "yeah." Often he is just playing with a toy, creating a world from blocks or such. But the other day, it was quiet, and Little Man was down, so I crept out and this is what I found (video)! Yeah, there is a reason the Little Man doesn't talk more, he can't get a word in edgewise! And yes there are two really big reasons that all our windows have child safety guards!

Grandparents and Preschool

So today was Grandparent (or grand-friend) day at preschool. My Big boy has been so excited about this ever since I told him a month ago!

First, it was just Grandma coming due to many other obligations that grandpa had, which I totally understood. But then one afternoon the Big Boy decided we should call Grandma & Grandpa to talk to them and he told them about Grandparents' day - mind you totally unprompted by me - and you know it, both of them chose to come.

I was excited to have my parents come. Frankly, we never get so old that we don't want to gain support for our choices from our parents. I know they love the boys, but I also wanted to them to see why we chose the school we had, although I myself only went to public schools (which frankly I'm still a big fan of). The Little Man has been practicing saying "grandma" and "grandpa" for two weeks, and is in my opinion, intelligible on these.

Also, with the economy tight, and us on a budget (not really, just a budget of "let's not spend anything we don't have to"), with my folks coming I'm looking forward to having free babysitting. My husbands old bachelor pad was changed into his office, but still has a bed, so we are having two nights to ourselves over there!!! We are not abandoning my folks, we'll all have dinner together, I'll get the boys ready for bed, but I'm leaving the book reading to the old folks. And without a pricey dinner out, or even a movie, we get to go hang out together! Yeah, I still like my husband, he's fun.

I had a meeting out of the house this morning so I haven't had the opportunity to hear about the day. Right now I'm in the living room alone, the boys are in the park with the sitter, and my parents are sleeping on my bed. They have now been officially "napping" longer than they were in preschool! In their defense, they did get up early (7:30 am for retired folks I'm told is early); they did walk to school and back (10 blocks) while the Big Boy road his bike (which if you are not a New Yorker, the traffic is scary and becomes an alcohol-inducing event when traversing with a preschooler on a bike), and they took him out for a slice of pizza on the way back. Given my parents "nap" I'm guessing they all had fun! I hope the folks will be ready to get up for dinner.

How Life Collides

"Collides" doesn't necessarily bring on a positive connotation, but I mean it in a positive way. This is the limitation of my small vocabulary, and lack of refined language skills on full display. Anyway, recently I've watched various parts of my life, that were always rather separate, collide. The result has generally been greater richness for the relationships for me, whether the other person was ready or not!

Yesterday, I started the spring/summer battle of window cleaning. I love it when our windows are clean and it feels like a tree house (we live on the second floor, which means we are in the trees, a feeling I love). But all winter, I let it go. There is no battle to fight in the winter time; the wind, rain, snow win because I'm not up for freezing while cleaning the windows, to have them get dirty again the next day. But by Spring, I want all the sun shine. I want a clear view of the park. I want the windows open. Well, to clean the living room windows I have to climb on the cadenza. This means getting out protective cardboard from the closet. With my Big boy helping me, we started pulling out the card board only to be greeted by one of New York's finest, a huge water bug about two inches long. It ran between two pieces of cardboard, but its antennae were sticking out, so we knew right were it was. If my lovely groom had been home, he'd had been called into action. However, he's away. So, drawing on the skills I've learned on the Wednesday noon kick boxing class. I clocked the boards with a direct strike. We heard the crunch! I am know officially a bug-kicker-killer according to the Big Boy!

This morning the little man woke me early. We had time to make popovers before the big guy needed to head to preschool (whom was still snoring in his bed), so he and I cooked. The popovers turned out great, but I had forgotten the speech therapist, with whom I haven't bonded but still respect, was coming over early. Well, even earlier than she had booked. So she joined us all for breakfast. First, she was impressed that we baked so early in the morning; did I mention she doesn't have children so doesn't really know what early in the morning is. Second, she hasn't hung with all of us to see how we interact on daily stuff. She hangs with the boys and does sound repetition. She was surprised at how good the popovers were, and how much the boys get into the routine, i.e., helping me set and clear the table, and she was stunned at how many words our little man attempts to use. I got to like her a bit better (anyone who compliments my cooking can't be all bad). And the little man got out of the usual routine of sounds to show her vocabulary.

Lastly, I've noticed a change in my daytime sitter. When I first lost my job and was around, she tried to keep the boys quiet and out of my way. Now she sees they just want to say "hi" and then will leave the office. She sees that I am working hard, or at least writing, not just hanging around the house. And I share with her if I have a big or small project going on and whether it is fun or not. I give her high-fives when consulting checks come in the mail. Now she tends to over-cook/over-buy for the boys at lunch and invites me to join them. I've noticed she's been turning on the dishwasher before she leaves in the late afternoon. I've noticed that she likes to hang and chat with me at lunch, just as much as the boys do. And yes, she has even started to eat breakfast on occasion with us. All I view in the most favorable way.

I've never been super strict about keeping work separate from play, separate from family; i.e., the blog is mostly about the boys/parenting. But now in the last few months with me home, the lines definitely have begun to blend. The toughest part is making sure I spend enough time on work. But I think life is becoming richer for the blending. I know I'm having fun.

DeJaVu

Photo: Another recent box creation that DH will be removing tonight. Only the boys could make it through the tunnel.

Sometimes I feel dejavu when seeing our little man revisit "stages" that our bigger boy has passed. The timing is off, sometimes he is well behind what I would expect for a almost three year old, but it makes sense given his family/orphanage history.

I forgot what it was like to try to cook, clean, walk, dance, etc with someone trying to stand on your feet or hold your knees together. DS2 has just learned to open the refrigerator door. So now exploration of "cold" has started including turning the fridge light on and off a thousand times until the buzzer to start sound. And yes, all glass items have moved to a hirer shelf in the fridge (a broken jar of relish looks pretty bizarre when mixed with mustard. It smells weird too. for about three days!)

Peek-a-boo is back in. It is more along the lines of "Where's my man?, Oh, THERE HE IS!!", to variations of "Where's the tissue? Oh, THERE IT IS!" and my personal favorite, "where is mommy's cell? Oh, THERE IT IS!, Now give it back." We are also starting to see the very beginning of hiding, like behind a door, box, wall, etc and jumping out and surprising me. Love that. Also along these lines, I think is the pretending to be asleep, and the great giggles as I wake him up.

Another favorite, is the I want to be like mommy routine. The sudden desire to try lip gloss, powder if I'm putting that on and the wearing of hear clips. This passed quickly with DS1 and I'm sure it will with DS2 as he has the older brother there to tell him "boys don't wear......" But I like seeing my boys in a necklace sporting lip gloss. Along these lines a funny thing happened a couple weeks ago at preschool. For two weeks, each day was assigned a color. Red, Blue, Green Yellow, Black, White, Brown, Orange, Pink and Rainbow. Each day I dressed DS1 in the appropriate color. But on Pink day, he had nothing. I tried to talk him into taking along one of my sweaters and just rolling up the sleeves, but no. Then my husband who takes him to school in the morning reported back that Pink day did not go as well as the others, none of the boys were wearing pink.

Last but least, I'm back to "The wheels on the bus" forty times a day. It is good as I think he likes it because he is finally able to say, or closely say, some of the words. He loves the horn goes "beep, beep, beep" but there is fondness for the babies go "wa, wa, wa" and the windows, "up and down" and the doors "open and close". However on this one, the older boy is clearly passed this stage so sometimes he suggests new actions, such as "the bears on the bus go Ra, Ra, Ra" or the "the wings on the bus take it high, high, high". Yeah, not sure where the imagination comes from, but I love to run with it.

Generally, it is heart warming to see the "repeats", to see the path again. It means he is on it, he is moving forward, he is taking strides everyday. I don't see the daily strides, I'm too close. I worry so much about his lack of language. But I see these steps toward growth, the path I'm more familiar with and I get a bit calmer, I know more growth is coming. He's on his path!

Surgery Complete

This morning went is over, and I guess in the end, it went well. We are all home, in one piece even though DS2 is a bit groggy, DS1 is napping on the couch and I'm a bit tired. I give my apology now, as I'm going to give a bit too much information on anesthetic recovery as I want other adoptive parents to have the information.

First, when going for surgery, there are a thousand questions that are tough to answer;

• Has he even had anesthesia? yes
• Did he have any reaction to it? unknown
• Was there any trauma in the birth process (why they need this one I don't know)? unknown
• Does he have any allergies? none known
• Does he have a history of infections? not recently, otherwise unknown.

Everyone at NYU was really nice and supportive. DS2 was in a great, fun mood when we got there. He saw the doctor on Friday that cleared him for surgery, but the anesthesiologist was not happy that he has a little head cold (no fever, which is why he was cleared). The ENT doctor was again, awesome. When he came in the waiting room, I was on the floor with DS2, so he joined us on the floor and played with DS2 while explaining everything to me. Not riveting stuff, but things like, don't get water in his ears for a week (but also don't worry too much, baths are fine, just don't let him "swim" in the tub), and that he was going to give me ear drops to use for the next 5 days to clean up any lingering infection, but he wouldn't know which drops until after surgery and he got a good look in the ears.

After the doctor visit, they gave DS2 a drug to sedate him before the surgery. By the time we were heading to the OR, he could no longer sit up on his own and his head kept drifting on his shoulders. The surgery started about an hour later than expected, but still only took about 20 minutes from start to finish. I joined him in the operating room, where the two nurses, anesthesiologist and the ENT doctor were all waiting. I stayed with DS2 until they knocked him out, he was angry about it. Nonetheless it took 30 seconds max. Then to the waiting room for me.

When the doctor came to get me, he said that there was more than water but yellow puss looking gel. I commented that he gets to see all the gross stuff, he said, "only from the neck up, and the surgery is more satisfying when I can see what I need to fix". Interesting. We'll visit him for a follow up, and updated hearing test in 3 weeks.

In the recovery room, I was asked not to touch or wake DS2; he was to wake on his own which they estimated would take an hour. However, no one had told DS2 the plan. He "woke up" kicking, screaming, hitting, fighting within 5 minutes. The nurses quickly put bumpers on the crib, but he was out of control and not opening his eyes. It totally reminded me of three or four times in the first month where we saw him go through night terrors. He clearly was not awake. My heart sunk a tiny bit, because I did not think this was going to pass quickly.

A nice but too genial nurse, thought I should try holding him; this screaming crazed child. I commented he wasn't awake, this was night terrors. Another nurse, very nice guy from Hell's Kitchen, over heard me and totally got it, we'll call him Bob, he took over. After about ten minutes of trying to keep him in the crib but intervening to keep him from hurting himself as he thrashed about, the suggestion was made to get restraints. This I couldn't allow.

I put DS2 in the cuddle bag, strapped him on, and let him wail. Bob stayed close, checking in to see if he was actually waking at all and chatting with me. Other nurses popped by and curious parents had to check out the wailing child. I didn't feel bad about holding him through it, but I did feel bad/sad that my presence really didn't appear to be all that comforting to him. Also I felt bad that I couldn't do more, he is my kid, but it doesn't always look that way, which makes me want to be more inconspicuous than standing in a busy recovery room with a screaming child in your arms. It is like everyone in there is obligated to look at you, at least once. After another 30-40 minutes of him wailing with eyes open now, but not focusing on anything, Bob thought we should try to knock him out and start again. I was tired, I agreed. We gave DS2 Tylenol with codeine, which he said we would see effect in 15 minutes. 20 minutes later, he, DS2 not Bob, was asleep in my arms.

As I sat down in this great reclining chair, put my feet up and let DS2 finish his morning nap on my chest, Bob and I chatted. He said that too often the anesthesiologist fails to ask if the child has ever had night terrors, and of the kids that wake up bad in the recovery room, it is often the kids with a history of night terrors. DS2 was having such a quick surgery that they did not do an IV, which means if he wakes up bad that you have to give a shot of medicine which takes longer to calm the child than if they are on an IV. It is not really good or bad to be on an IV it is just the he wishes people knew the difference so they could be prepared in the recovery room. He told me if he ever needs general anesthetic again to let the team know he has recovery issues. And he told me I did a better job at handling the situation than most terrified parents (yeah!).

About 40 minutes later, DS2 woke up. He was happy, ate crackers and flirted with everyone. No sign of any trauma from him at all. After a few graham crackers, water and 5 minutes of play, we were released. He is happy to be home. He is a bit tippy when he walks (which should be gone by tomorrow). He seems not to be in any pain; hasn't reached for his ears at all. He is trying to repeat everything I say, a bit more than usual, so I do think he is hearing well.

DS1 is also home today. He has been coughing hard at night, so DH took him to the doctor while I was at the hospital and they think he is having a bit of allergies/asthma, not a cold or infection. Last night DS1 and I had a conversation about DS2 getting the tubes put in his ears. Basically, I summarized by saying this would help him hear better so he could learn more words. Obvious question, "which words are they going to teach him at the hospital?"

So I'm baking a cake, the boys are napping, I'm writing, and tonight we may celebrate that we are entering 2009 all a bit more prepared. DS1 with knowledge of allergies/asthma so he gets treated quicker next time, DS2 with tubes and therapy hopefully moving forward with language, me with a new occupation and financial challenges, but also hoping to be a more patient parent. Really, 2008 wasn't hell, or even horrible. But 2008 wasn't great, Obama is good, and I'll embrace the massive changes that 2008 brought; career, expanding to a family of four. But as I look to 2009, I just believe there is more for all of us to be gained in 2009.