It's my birthday and I'll cry if I want to

We were blessed to have many of our close family and friends join us today to celebrate a special little boy's first birthday.  I'll write a more detailed recap in the next few days but I wanted to share some pictures.  All in all, it was a great day and party. Thank you to my mom and mom-in-law for helping me with the food!  Thanks to Uncle Chris and Aunt Becky for allowing us to use your oven and for Uncle Barry and Aunt Bethanie for taking pictures. And thank you everyone for the wonderful gifts and for coming!

I have very....sensitive...children. Claire didn't enjoy the attention she garnered when everyone sang "Happy Birthday".  Max almost made it through the song without crying but decided he didn't like the attention either.  He cried again later when a few people laughed at his cake eating mess.  I love my sensitive sweeties.

Claire crying at her 1st birthday party

And little brother following in her footsteps.

The monster cake that I proudly made myself (based on a picture I found on Pinterest). Yep, my first attempt at cakepops too! 

Mommy loves the birthday boy. 

Claire was so excited to have all her "friends" over to play today.  She had way more than than at her own party! 

Happy birthday (on Tuesday), Max!! 

Mothering

It's been longer than usual since I have written a blog post.  That's partially because I've been focused on getting my family healthy and preparing for Max's big first birthday party this coming weekend.

I am very blessed to have had healthy children for the most part.  Claire has had only one ear infection and Max hasn't had any.  It's rare for us to make a trip to the Pediatrician for reasons other than well visits.    But, my kids (especially Claire so far) are absolutely plagued with colds during the fall/winter.  It felt like Claire had a cold my entire maternity leave last winter.  And one or both (usually both) children have had a cold for the past four weeks straight. It's driving me crazy!!  Last weekend Josh got the flu so I remain the only person in this household that has been healthy.

I always struggle with the decision to bring my children to the Pediatrician.  When Claire was 10 months old, I called the nurse line at our Pediatrician's office and asked if I should bring her in after describing her symptoms.  The nurse said, "Uhh...no... you need to bring her to Children's Hospital immediately".  Several hours and a couple bags of fluids later, (I haven't forgotten how hard it was to see an IV in her little arm) and she was on the road to recovery. Since then, I have learned to trust my gut.

Last Wednesday, Claire was on her fourth straight day of a fever.  Our doctor once told us that a fever is our body's way of saying something is wrong, so I decided (with the help of the nurse on the nurse line) to get her checked out.  Since I work full-time and an hour away from home, I have to bring them in during the evening.  Her bedtime is 7:00PM and her appointment was at 7:45PM so it was already a recipe for disaster.

She was terrified of everything about the experience.  Standing on the scale to capture her weight? Torture.  Doctor listening to her lungs with a stethoscope? Cruel and unusual punishment.  Taking x-rays of her chest?  She looked at me with eyes as if to say, "how are you letting them do this to me?!?!" (as I held her arms high above her head and pushed her chest against the cold metal).

We didn't leave until 9:15 PM after being told that she just has a virus.  I slumped into the car and breathed a sigh of relief and exhaustion.  In the backseat, Claire said, "We had fun at doctor Mommy!".  Are you kidding me, child?  A couple minutes later she said, "I be good girl at doctor.  I'm good girl Mommy".  I didn't respond because I was not going to affirm her statement since she was quite the opposite of a good girl nor did I want to correct her and say she was naughty because she was sick and it was long past her bedtime, after all.  A minute later she declared, "I'm precious Mommy".  To that I smiled and said, "Yes, sweetheart.  You are precious and I love you".

When Max woke up yesterday morning, I told Josh that it seemed that he lost his voice.  Annie (my MIL and the angel who watches our children) said it must be from all of the screaming he did the day before.  When Claire takes his toys away from him, he now puts up a fight! I got home from work at 6:00PM and heard him struggling to breathe. I called my dear friend Rachel because I saw earlier that day on Facebook that her daughter was diagnosed with croup. I didn't know anything about croup but when Rachel described Kiera's symptoms, it sounded just like Max.  I immediately called the nurse line and she said that their first (and only) appointment that evening was at 8:15PM.  Great..... She called back a minute later and said to bring him in immediately.  When Claire heard that I was bringing him to the doctor and she was staying home, she said, "No Mommy! I need to go doctor!  I have cough! I need to go for cough! ".  

Max was diagnosed with a "very bad case" (according to the Ped) of croup and had to have some steroids and nebulizer (sp?) treatments in the office.  Not a fun experience for either of us but overall, he was a trooper.  We walked the hall for 30 minutes while we waited to see if the treatments improved his breathing.  The Ped said that croup gets worse during the night and Max was already so bad that he was worried what would happen during the middle of the night.  The Ped was torn about sending us to the Hospital but said that we could go home.  He warned me to expect a 50/50 chance that we'd have to bring Max to the Children's Hospital during the middle of the night if his breathing returned to the condition in which it was when I brought him in that evening.

Deja vu. Two trips to the doc during the evening in one week. 

Josh and I, as well as our mothers, prayed that he would improve and not have to go to the hospital and we were thrilled when he slept all night long!  Thank you Jesus.  He still has the wheezy breathing so I am home with him today and administering the steroid treatments.  He knows about his birthday party on Sunday so he's determined to get better.

It's been a rough go the past month with illnesses but it's part of the whole mothering job description.  When they are sick, there's no place I'd rather be than holding them in my arms. Wiping noses. Rocking babies in the wee hours of the night. Reminding Claire over and over and over again to cover her mouth when she coughs. Giving hugs. Yup, it's part of the Mothering job. And it's my favorite job in the world.

Thoughts on perspective

It was bittersweet to wean Claire from nursing.  Since I was already in my second trimester with Max, I was okay with sharing my body with only one baby.  Plus, I knew, God willing, she wouldn't be my last baby and I had nursing days ahead of me.  Now that I'm weaning Max and I know he could be my last baby, it's a little more emotional for me.  I am down to nursing when he wakes and before bed and Max will be weaned by the time I leave for Asia in November. 

This morning I was nursing Max before the sun came up and enjoying the sweet relaxing moments before my busy day began.  He was cuddly and warm and all I could hear in the house was his soft breathing and I remembered why those moments are my favorite moments of the entire day.  It crossed my mind that I am going to miss this. 

Then, out of left field, perspective entered my mind.  I thought about the Mommys in Africa, who are just like me, and are rocking their baby boys at that very same moment, in the peaceful darkness.  They passionately love their children, just like me, and would give their life to protect them.  The difference is that my baby boy is healthy, growing, well taken care of, thriving.  Some of these Mommys are holding their baby boys as they die from malaria due to a simple bug bite that could have been prevented by a $10 mosquito net.  And instantly, I no longer felt sad about our nursing coming to an end.  Because, at least, my baby boy is healthy.  Those Mamas would give anything to only be concerned about breastfeeding coming to a close.  I truly have nothing to be sad about.

I don't know exactly what to call it..  a characteristic? A spiritual gift? A worldview that has been developed by experiences that have shaped me?  Whatever it is, perspective is something that controls my thoughts and my actions.  In many ways, it dulls my emotions.  I have a "why does this even matter?!" or "why would I care about ____???" response to many things in life, such as, matters at work, material items, commonplace activities, etc.  A not-very-close colleague at work caught me by surprise recently when he said to me, "You think more eternally, don't you?"  Maybe I do.  And maybe that shows through, even when I don't pour out my heart, as I do on my blog? 

It also impacts my relationship with my family, and Josh in particular.  I have a difficult time just caring about things that he cares about (and things that are very commonly cared about) because I just don't get what the point is at the end of the day.  It's hard to explain and I'm probably not doing a very good job at it. 

I'm thankful for the perspective that I have and how it shapes my attitudes, my spending, my relationships, my parenting, and my future.  I think that there must be some reason for it and I pray that I listen when God reveals it.  And in the meantime, my gratitude for my healthy son will overshadow my sadness for a chapter closing in my life. 

Autumn at the Zoo

Our Fall tour of fun continued today with a visit to the Minnesota Zoo with the three B. Parks.  We visited the new penguin exhibit. 

And Maxwell proved that he's the cutest pumpkin in the patch (shh...don't tell his sister). 

Brody loves Max!  These two are exactly nine months apart. 

Claire practiced her splits on the pumpkin.  She can't jump but she can do the splits. 

She liked the fake pig but didn't like the real ones.  (She's wearing Auntie Bethanie's hat.  I didn't realize it would be this chilly today). 

Uncle Barry and I with the three little rascals, looking at the cows. 

The Parks. 

What else is on the docket for today?  Claire just went down for nap and Max is heading that way.  I am going to try to make cakepops while they're sleeping, as a trial run for Max's birthday party (which is two weeks from tomorrow! Holy moly!).  Tonight Laurie, Andrew, and Landon Ford are coming over for fondue- chicken, steak, shrimp with potatoes, broccoli and carrots for the main course and chocolate fondue with a bunch of dippers for dessert!  A pretty great day! 

Max at 11 months old

My little baby is almost one.  It feels almost automatic to say, "I can't believe he's almost one year old, where did the time go?!", but to be honest, I can believe that he's been in our life (outside my tummy!) for almost a year.  The days of being parents to only one child feel long ago.  The nights of dealing with two small children (who wake each other up... like last night, for example, when I spent 4:00-6:20AM alternating between both of their rooms because they are both sick and needy and both need me) seem like they've been here forever.  Our little boy brings me so much joy.  While my little girl is like my heart and soul, it is different being a Mommy to a boy. And it's wonderful.

At 11 months, Max:

• Tries to alleviate back pain (?) by stretching it out multiple times a day.  He does this all.the.time. 

Exhibit A 

Exhibit B

• Stands on his tippy toes most of the time.  I don't think he's close to walking yet because he has no interest in standing on his own or in cruising, which is totally fine by me because I am willing him to not walk until at least November 18th, when I'm home from Asia.  

 Still thinks his mommy is God's gift to earth.  I'm going to savor this as long as I can because it won't be too long until I magically turn super uncool.

•  Thinks his sister is pretty cool as well. He laughs and laughs at Claire and enjoys 'playing' with her more and more.  When she takes a toy away from him, he can get pretty upset.  His fits are cute right now and make us laugh but just wait until he's 18 months old because it won't be funny any longer!

Notice the tippy toes? 

• Is a chunky lad.  He wears size 9 and 12 months for the most part.  I'm excited to see where he falls on the chart next month.
• Prefers feeding himself over being served purees.  He likes to feed himself grapes (his absolute favorite), bananas (second favorite), cheese, small veggies (carrots, peas, corn), puffs, lunch meat, bread, other fruit (peaches, plums) and goes crazy for yogurt.  He eats three meals a day, along with nursing in the morning and before bed, and 2-3 bottles each day. He is very focused and quiet when he's eating.  You don't even know he's in the room- he just slowly and steadily shoves the food into his mouth.  I don't know if he'd stop eating if his food didn't run out. 
• Is no longer given breastmilk in the bottle (sniff...).  I stopped pumping at work right after he turned 11 months.  As much as I dislike pumping, I would have pumped for awhile longer (another month or two) but I am starting the weaning process, due to my business trip.  
• Has six teeth- two on the bottle and four on top.  There is such a large gap between his top two teeth that his bottom two could fit between them.  Personally, I think it's adorable.
• Sleep pretty well.  He goes to bed between 6:45-7:15 PM (yes, I hardly see him during the week) and wakes up around 6:30 for the day.  When he no longer nurses in the morning I think his wake time will push back.  We generally hear him wake 2-5 times a night. Sometimes he puts himself back to sleep and sometimes he can't.  When I go into his room, he's always sitting up and crying.  I lay him down and that almost always does the trick.  
• Is still super happy.  He loves to laugh.  He points and waves.  Loves pat-a-cake.  Does "so big" sometimes but not on command.  Adores being outside.  Enjoys swinging on our new playground.  Crawls at lightning speed.  Pulls to stand on everything.  Gets mad when bathtime is over. 
• Says "teeee", "na na na", "ma ma ma", and makes whistling sounds  (maybe because of the ginormous gap between his top teeth?).
• Thinks it's funny when he sneezes.  Makes him laugh every time. 

I had a great three-day weekend with my little family.  Before bed tonight, I told Claire that Omi and Brody are going to come over tomorrow.  She said, "No, Mommy! Don't go to work!".  I'll miss them too! 

I need Dr. House (edited)

I finally went to see a doctor today about my ongoing nausea.  Her orders? A blood test for my liver, which she thinks is just fine, a blood test for some bacteria, which she doesn't think I have, and a suggestion to pick up a package of tums.  Super.  Dr. House???

In other news, Claire jumped out of her crib tonight.  She did not want to go to bed (and wouldn't tell us why).  After extra, extra, extra time rock-a-bye-ing, I left her in the crib and went downstairs to do dishes.  Crying/screaming ensued until I heard a huge bang and then silence.  And then.... a door knob opening.  We are NOT ready to put her in a big girl bed yet.  I definitely don't want to do that until she's three years old.  This parenting thing is full of new surprises and challenges each and every day.

********

After I posted the above, I wanted to get down a few of the things Claire has said recently (because I'll later transfer this into my Shutterfly book).

On Sunday when we were driving to the orchard, Claire said from the backseat: "I love...when Mommy...is home with me".  When I'm home on my Fridays off or on the weekends I often tell her how glad I am to be home with her.  She listens!

Last night when we were eating dinner, Claire said, "I'm going to the orchard tomorrow and I'm going to see Sue!". (She wasn't going to the orchard today but she did go last Friday and she did see Great Aunt Sue there).  I said, "Do you like Sue?" Claire responded, "Yes, Sue's happy."  "Sue's happy?", I asked.  "Yes, Sue's happy to be with me!".

In the car on Saturday, Claire said, "Brody is a big boy!"  I said, "Is Max a big boy?"  "No, Max is just a baby!"  "Are you a big boy?"  "No, I'm a girl... I'm a BIG girl!"  I asked her, "Is Mommy a big girl?"  Claire said, "No, Mommy's Whitney!".

I love this age... almost 2 1/2 years old.  The tantrums happen less.  The reasoning ("Claire, look me in the eyes.  Use your words and tell me what you want") works better.  She thinks and thinks and says funny and insightful things.  She's super affectionate and says "I love you, Mommy!" or "Daddy, I love you so much!" randomly.  She spontaneously kisses her brother and tells him she loves him (in between telling him "Max, you can't do that, you are just a BABY!").  Love my girl.