Magical Times

We have arrived at a very beautiful and magical time of year. There is this exciting buzz about the air in anticipation of Christmas. This time of year always seems like we all have a very exciting secret that we all keep and can’t wait for the surprise to happen. This excitement almost seems contagious and spreads so easily among one another. Brothers and Sisters it is Christmas time!

All around us there are Christmas trees decorated with colorful ornaments that each have a special meaning or just fill empty spaces. They all hold a special memory of a child's birth, Milestone in life, or even a hard year that was conquered. The mantles hang cute decorative stockings each representing the family members in the home ready to be stuffed full of goodies. Under the tree there are boxes wrapped in beautiful colored papered and bows ready to be torn apart by eager hands, The city twinkles with lights all around whether from the tree, your neighbors over decorated house, or the stars shining in the sky.

Thinking about Christmas I came upon a talk that was in the December 2012 edition of the Liahona that President Monson gave and I found a poem that i would like to share with you

I am the Christmas Spirit—

I enter the home of poverty, causing pale faced children to open their eyes wide, in pleased wonder.

I cause the mister’s clutched hand to relax and thus paint a bright spot on his soul.

I cause the aged to renew their youth and to laugh in the old glad way.

I keep romance alive in the heart of childhood, and brighten sleep with dreams woven of magic.

I cause eager feet to climb dark stairways with filled baskets, leaving behind hearts amazed at the goodness of the world.

I cause the prodigal to pause a moment on his wild, wasteful way and send to anxious love some little token that releases glad tears—tears which wash away the hard lines of sorrow.

I enter dark prison cells, reminding scarred manhood of what might have been and pointing forward to good days yet to be.

I come softly into the still, white home of pain, and lips that are too weak to speak just tremble in silent, eloquent gratitude.

In a thousand ways, I cause the weary world to look up into the face of God, and for a little moment forget the things that are small and wretched.

I am the Christmas Spirit.1

The Christmas spirit truly does cause much happiness in times of sadness and hope to those who have none but I have come to see that Christmas turns our hearts and our minds to the little babe that was born to save us and our Heavenly Father who sent him here to us. It truly does cause us “the weary world” to remember something greater and more loving. Heber J Grant once said that the story of Jesus is a story of old that ever remains new. The oftener I read of His life and labors the greater is the Joy, the peace, the happiness, the satisfaction that fills my soul.

Christmas has come down to us as a day of thanksgiving and rejoicing, a day of good cheer and good will to men, Although it has an earthly relation and significance, it is divine in content. Every year during the christmas season we are reminded of how truly blessed we are to have Christ in our lives, He offers joy, hope, faith, love and salvation to each one of us expecting so little in return. No wonder the Christmas season seems so full of magic. Each christmas we get together as families and share gifts to others, a roof over a lonely persons head or a warm meal to get them through the night. As we grow older we are less and less excited about receiving and more and more excited about giving. What I love most about this time of year is the reminder of how important family is and how we try harder to be with family.

The most amazing part of Christmas is being reminded that we were given the most amazing of gifts long long ago. It was not wrapped in a pretty sparkling bow and paper or put under a shimmering Christmas tree. He was wrapped in swaddling clothing and placed in a manger. If we think about Christ and his entrance in to this world it was very simple and so is Christ's love for us. Just imagine the excitement the world felt that day Christ entered this world and became part of us. The prophets had prophesied years and years about the coming of Christ and for years people waited and waited until at last it did happen. Imagine that all the anticipation of generations of people coming true in one night and the feeling that swept throughout the nation. The spirit speaking to all the believers and nonbelievers of the birth of a Savior. The buzz of excitement, the anticipation of something that is coming, it is almost like the Christmas season but much stronger. The Christmas season not only reminds us of our love for Christ and our Heavenly Father but it also strengthens our love and devotion to them. We have truly been given the most amazing gift, the gift of all gifts, we just need to receive this gift with open arms and heart.

As our year ends we reflect upon the choices we have made throughout the year, we remember the happy moments spent learning a new talent, watching our children reach those amazing milestones or remembering the loved ones that passed on or the mistakes we had made that caused pain and heartache. We are reminded that our saviour came to this earth to save us, he gave us repentance and eternal love. The celebration of the birth of Christ reminds us of the newness of a new year and the ability to forgive and move on to a better stronger year. I love listening to christmas music that speaks of the baby jesus. Each time one comes on I get goose bumps all over my arms and i just want to sing as loud as i can, and i do much to my families delight, Christ is born! He is my saviour! Hallelujah! What greater time to celebrate! Each song that is sung of Jesus reminds me of hope and love. It gives me strength to face another year no matter how long or hard it might be. President Monson also spoke of us giving a gift to our saviour in return. He suggests that we render ourselves obedient and less selfish or quarrelsome, that we give more of ourselves and ask less of others, that we remember to truly “love one another” our hearts should be gladdened, we should have kind words to say, deeds to be done, and souls to save. The Christmas season opens so many opportunities for us to share the gospel and the wonder of our Savior gift to us.

In the beginning God called for light, and the stars were made according to his word. They are here tonight, flecks of light silver and Gold.

And once again Heavens Voice is heard.

But this is a new star, its light will never dim.

Others fill the sky tonight, But this one leads to Him.

As we look at our beautiful sparkling trees and watch our families and friends tear joyously at the gifts we must remember that this is a beautiful time of year to celebrate our Savior Jesus Christ. Because of Him we are able to know that we will be with our families for eternity, that we are loved and given second chances,That miracles really do happen. It is a time to enjoy and be happy and remember that our love for Heavenly Father and for Jesus Christ can be so much stronger the next year and that we may be ending a year where we did our best to draw closer to him, this new year is full of hope and promise. If we remember our promise to never forget him and open our hearts to him we could have the best year ever! I know that if we just open our minds and our hearts and forgive ourselves that the saviour will enter in and heal those broken wounds. I know that through faith and diligence we will learn the true and great  love that we have yet to realize and true happiness will finally enter in.  It does not matter what house we live in, what little food we have on our table, what we give or receive this holiday season, what matters is that we remember the greatest love and gift given to us this holiday season.

Juggling

This last week has been educational, emotional, and exhausting. I have learned so much and I have the need to share. 

Everyday is very much the same at my house. I am very routine driven and when my routine is thrown off I feel like my world is out of control. I have learned that routine is good and bad. It is good when you have kids. I have my oldest on a routine when it comes to almost everything food or sleep oriented. It has made my life a little easier because he starts to know when things are coming. It has become a huge blessing for my youngest because even though he is go with the flow it helps me keep everything in order as to when I have my time, Therapy time, feeding time, medicine time, and diaper changing time (diaper changes just seem to slip through my fingers, if I don't watch the time he will soak through a onesie and not even blink.) I am so routine that I even have certain days of the week scheduled for certain chores that need to be done. I KNOW!!!! I'm crazy. 

Routine is also bad, It can become like we are stuck in a never ending cycle of doing the same thing every day. It makes us go through the motions but not really be present. It makes us forget that we are individuals that can actually do something different. Does laundry really need to be done on Monday? Do I really need to vacuum or clean the bathroom that currently smells like boy? Does the bed really need to be made even though my husband and oldest child can not resist the urge to mess up a nicely made bed? (I mean seriously what is that about??) NO!!!!

This past week my routine was thrown completely out the window. I mean out of bounds out the window. Way out there. 

Lately my life seems to be centered around my youngest son. He has come to be a huge time taker and he does need extra care. He has therapy twice a week at the hospital (which is exhausting) and we do therapy on our own in the home. Every now and then our schedule gets really full of doctors appointments and it becomes so insane that having a "normal" day seems weird. This week was one of those weeks. We had therapy and two additional appointments for Oliver but what was odd was that my wonderful amazing hubby could not watch my oldest so he had to tag along. Usually my oldest will stay home do whatever it is he does and these appointments don't take any time away from him and its like nothing ever happened. I had to take my oldest with me to these appointments and I learned how draining it is on me but more on my oldest child. This is what I learned.

Gabe never asked to have a younger sibling. He is quite happy being the center of attention and craves it most of the time. He has been the center of attention for 2.5 years so yes he should love it. Ollie came along with all his issues and he is learning that sometimes it is not his time but it shouldn't be like that all the time. Gabe is very patient and gentle with his younger brother and loves to take care of him. If Ollie cries he tells me "I got it mommy" and just stands over him like a guardian (doesn't do anything). He tries to make Ollie laugh and Ollie has eyes only for his older brother. They are such good kids together. 

After our busy couple of days I went to bed thinking about how Gabe was acting. He had started to get very destructive, acting out, and getting in to things he knows he should not get in to. When I was just so close to being asleep the light bulb went of in my head (yes you know the one) and I knew what needed to be done. We needed to have time with just Gabe. He needed to have a day where he could do anything he wanted. Gabe needed a Gabe day.

I try so hard, so very hard to help my kids not feel like one is more important than the other. That one is not more special. I realized that Gabe may have been feeling left out because all these people were talking to me and Oliver at these appointments. He doesn't get to sit in the big chair and get eye drops, he doesn't get to play with the cool therapy toys or have people love or hug on him. When I work with Ollie it looks like I am playing with him and Gabe wants to join in but can't because he plays too rough sometimes. 

We went to the park and played. I actually got off my big butt (it is huge people) and ran around playing hide and seek, Swinging, and sliding (there is a lot of static on plastic slides) and he had a blast. Whatever Gabe wanted to do we did it. We walked over the bridge oh so many times, we walked out to the water and looked at imaginary fishies and looked at the beautiful Lily pads. We talked while sitting on a bench. We had a wonderful lunch and a tantrum less nap time. Gabe had his day where he made decisions and asked nicely, said please and thank you, it was my old Gabe back. I understand how he feels, most times I get in this rut where I feel I am invisible but still have to do things. I want someone to just give me a me day or focus on me for a change. I need to be the center of attention occasionally so I understand. 

This week I learned that Gabe needs Gabe time and I need to break my robotic routine to give him what he needs. 

The juggle is tricky, the jiggle in the jungle is what got us here !)

MOM

Earlier this week I was talking to my mother about how our parents always say to us when we are acting out as children "I hope you have kids like you one day!" We always laugh it off and think it is an empty curse.......IT. IS. NOT!!!!
I have a now 3 year old son and a 6 month old baby. They are a wonderful blessing to our lives and I would never want them to go back (they have been pushed out and will stay out forever) BUT some days I wish I could reverse time and not do whatever I did to my mother for her to put this terrible curse upon me and my future offspring. Do I really think it would help? no, but thinking that it might is a little comforting.

I have changed a lot over the last 1.5 years. I am now a mom of two wonderful children. I have been married for 5 years and I am that much closer to 30 (not as close as my hubby). I was in the kitchen and I realized that I have become the mother that I used to mock. I would look at my husband and say if I ever become like that shoot me (its like the "if I get fat shoot me" kinda thing.) Need an example?

I make baby food for my youngest son.
After his last stay in the hospital he was put on a medication to help with the seizures and we have to administer it with some form of food. He doesn't do well with spoon feeding and that was a very slow process. Even after 6 weeks of work he will eat with a spoon at night but not in the morning and only with a rubber tipped spoon. The baby food has  to be made a special way with so many parts boob juice (gasp she said boob) and so much fruit and a touch of rice cereal (so he gets his iron). If it is too thick or grainy he will not eat it. This little bugger will clamp down his gums so tight. We went through jars and jars of baby food trying to find what he likes (total waste of money even though it's 50 cents a jar that adds up) and finally my husband suggested adding boob juice and little bit of fruit and slowly adding more fruit to the mix, it was the best most genius idea ever and I think I fell more in love with him that night. So yes I make baby food for my kid. I NEVER dreamed I would do that (i really am too lazy in reality)

I cloth diaper my child.
Ollie wears cloth diapers. My oldest did not. We filled those landfills with reusable diapers with my oldest and I really didn't care. (i kinda love the smell of disposable diapers, they remind me of babies). Our daycare wouldn't even take cloth in the first place. Problem? Gabe had insane diaper rash that was impossible to cure for almost 2 solid years. Potty training finally cure the problem. We couldn't figure out why even though we changed him every hour on the hour he still had a massive red butt. Ollie hasn't had a rash since he came home from the hospital and was put in cloth diapers. I don't do it because I want to save the planet, I do it because my poor children can't stand what is in the disposable diapers and getting chlorine free or whatever disposables in more expensive that getting my hands dirty (literally, I mean poo everywhere) I never really thought I would follow through with cloth but I love it!! (I really am too lazy in reality)

I am overprotective of my children.
I love my kids and I can't imagine anything happening to them. I am really very protective of my youngest for reasons previously stated in my blog. I kinda panic when I think about leaving him alone with someone who doesn't "know" him. I have an entire book dedicated to Ollies medical history and it goes with me everywhere. I literally bombard my pediatrician every time I see them with a list (yes I make a list) of stuff that I am concerned about (like a small itty bitty dry spot on his skin that won't clear up and all that we need to do is leave it alone) I freak out if he has a clogged nose and has trouble breathing and goes to bed sounding congested. I literally found myself sleep walking last night checking on him more than once (i really have a problem) I am way more laid back with Gabe but I will still ask if I feel it is necessary. Don't you even start to tell me that my kid is behind or should be doing this at this age I will crawl up your back!!!

I put my kids first
I don't need to really explain that one. I have gained way too much weight that I am having trouble losing all because I want my kid to eat dinner so it is made up of things my kid will eat too. Salad does not sound appetizing to me when I have had a long day visiting doctors or fighting with my child to pick up his toys. (for the 100th time that day)


soooooo....now that I sound crazy let me tell you something. I'm a MOM!!!!! I know what is best for my kids. I don't just get a bug up my butt and decide that something is wrong, I listen, watch, and learn. If I feel something is not right I will investigate it.

To all mommies out there. I am a crazy psycho Mom. I love my kids way too much. I have a super strict routine that can not be messed with. I like things done a certain way and at a certain time. I go out of my way to make sure that my kids are comfortable and taken care of. I can't really talk about much other than my kids (really seriously) they consume my life. I work hard to make sure that I am available at all times (even when I am POOPING!!!!!) At some time during the day I have a child on my boob, hanging on to my leg, sliding down my lap (i really hate that one) or I'm just sitting on the couch staring off in to space because I literally can not think or function and need one moment of sanity. I literally have eyes on me at all times of the day. I don't like to take naps because I feel like that is a wast of me time gone down the drain. I strive to make sure that all the laundry is clean folded and put away and the house is vacuumed. I try to make sure there is not pee on the floor or that the bathroom doesn't smell like boy in case someone decides to visit (which doesn't usually happen) I constantly feel like I am cooking, cleaning, and feeding the never ending pits everyday all day long.
Some days I feel so run down that getting out of bed is a chore but I do it anyways because the two little leaches would starve, run around naked, and die without me.

I give moms out there a high five and all the respect I can muster up. Never did we appreciate your hard work and dedication to us children. We caused you to have sleepless nights, Grow premature gray hair, and get a heart attack at least once a week. We caused the dreaded curse to be uttered from you lips to us (more than once) and we just laugh it off. Thank you for teaching us what love truly is. Thank you for cleaning up my vomit and poo. Thank you for letting me have a conversation while you were in the bathroom trying to get some privacy during a very private moment. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for teaching me that no matter what I am strong enough to be a good mom to my kids (and that occasionally cursing them with terrible offspring isn't so bad after all)

Fear

Today started like any other day. I didn't want to get out of bed and the oldest was already terrorizing the house and his father. I was lazily cuddling my youngest and wondering what it would be like to stay in bed. I then realized that I had laundry to do, kitchen was a wreck, carpet needed vacuuming, errands needed to be run, diapers needed stuffing and a friend would need help with her oldest child while she was busy packing to move. All these things gave me the courage and motivation to get out of bed but I wasn't happy thinking about doing them (but how else would it get done). I looked in the mirror at my oh so sexy bed head and thought "does this hair really need a shower." We finally got all kids dressed and out the door into the car and ran our errand to good ole Walmart (I REALLY hate walmart) we did not make it home.

This is where fear and panic began.

I was walking down an isle at Walmart and I really can't remember what is was looking at when I notice Ollie was shaking. For a second I thought maybe he was cold but then realized he was more twitching uncontrollably. He was having a seizure. I whipped out my phone to record the episode in case it ended before we saw a doctor so they could actually see with their eyes what I was talking about. I then tried to get him to focus on me and see if he would calm with a gentle cuddle but he wouldn't. I dialed the pediatrician and explained what was going on and they said to run to the ER NOW! (Just like that) I stuffed the kids in the car and through tears called my husband and told him that we were going to ER. I then called my mom and through tears and babbles told her she needed to calm me down and help me make it to the ER safely. I have never felt more panicked in my life and knowing that Ollie needed help now did not help me stay calm....mommies always help. She did the best she could to keep me talking and help me focus on where I needed to go. After 10 minutes I hung up and started to pray the rest of the way to the hospital. Ollie was at this point still seizing and crying in pain. Gabe just wanted fruit gummies. I pull up the hospital FINALLy and go to valet instead of looking for a parking spot in the parking deck....the valet was not there....I waited for several minutes and still no valet.....I should have left the car but when a mommy is in panic mode she tends to be rather stupid. I got back in the car and drove to the parking deck. After I had parked I grabbed Gabe and Ollie and carried them both (I am superwoman apparently) into the ER. Had to go through security (which there isn't any at the main entrance which is kinda weird) and got to the nurse finally. She asked what was going on and I told her I think my son is having a seizure. She asked if I had dropped him and I just looked at her all funny, telling her he has congenital CMV (which no nurse really understands) and put Ollie on her desk and told her to look at him

She grabbed a nurse and they ran to a back room where they immediately started to strip him down and put an IV in and put him on the monitor. This is the worst part of it.

All we could do was sit in a chair on the side and wait and watch. Within 2 minutes (nurse called emergency team in NOW!) we had 20 people surrounding him on the bed. There's were two doctors asking me questions about his medical history, weight, who are his doctors (we have four specialists now) and how long this had been going on. Finally after yelling Ollie's weight at them  three times they gave him meds to calm the seizures down. He had an IV in and slowly people started to trickle out.....at this point he had been seizing for an hour. 

After things settled the physicians we're asking me what the seizure looked like in e beginning. I then took out my phone and showed them what he was doing. It became a very famous video among the physicians (I guess people don't stop and film it usually and I don't like reenacting) they kept asking to watch it over and over again.

The medication he was given made him so loopy and tired that he was like a rag doll. He had no control over any part of his body and he kept yelling and making a strange noise. I was terrified, trying not to cry and trying to be as calm and cool as I could....I felt like a giant mess. We eventually had a CT and 5 hours later we were moved upstairs and put on a monitor and hooked up the his EEG machine. He started to come our of his loopy stage and act more himself. The biggest relief was being able to finally nurse him and cuddle him and help him feel my arms around him. 

As he started to wake up more he started to act like he was in pain and uncomfortable. I was able to get the nurse to give him Tylenol and let him be swaddled. Now he is sleeping hard and only waking when he is uncomfortable. 

I am grateful that we made it here safely and that I was able to get him the care he needed. I am still living with my heart in my throat and emotionally unstable from this scare. I know that this can come with Congenital CMV but I never knew what I would do if it actually happened. I wish I could express how much I love my babies and how terrified this made me. We are so lucky to have such supportive friends and family around and that he is here with us today. I worry that this is only the beginning and more scares could be on the way and I wonder if I can physically and emotionally handle it. This is a very big challenge and I am afraid for my child. I love you Oliver and I will forever protect your and love you. 

Peace

Disclaimer....If you are not interested in a spiritual/religious post DO NOT READ!

As of late I have been trying really hard to gain a better relationship with my Heavenly Father. 

I have had a rough year. Ok, I know there are people out there who have it much worse than we do and I am not starting a pity party (no tears here!) but I have been challenged spiritually, physically, and emotionally. Through all of this I think that my relationship with my Heavenly Father has really taken a hit. I try hard to be very grateful to Him for the blessings that we have. I mean think about it, we have a roof over our heads, food on our table, a loving relationship with my husband, two b-e-a-U-tiful children, and a Father who loves me. Our life is full to almost overflowing BUT occasionally we get this bout of "why?"

When we were told about Oliver I prayed.....I prayed hard. I prayed to help me keep my baby, I prayed that we will be able to carry him to term and that he will be as healthy as God needed Him to be. I prayed for myself, I pray for my strength and to keep it together. I don't handle stress well at all, I kinda feel like I can only manage one thing at a time, somehow I was able to keep my sanity. Seriously the amount of tears that were shed should get the whole world our of drought.

Prayer......I have never understood the importance of prayer until recently. 

Through prayer we are able to talk to our Father in Heaven. We kneel down and thank Him for our daily/yearly blessings, ask for what we need, add a little extra and we close. It is our way to communicate our needs and let Him know that we are thinking about Him and acknowledge His hand in everything.

Prayer has become something more for me. Never have I prayed to my Father with more gratitude in my heart. At first it was hard to be as grateful as I have been recently. I have wonderful friends that He has sent to me at the perfect time in my life. I have the perfect husband (most days) and children. 

I have come to feel that when I pray I'm talking to my Father almost like I am talking to my earthly dad. Sometimes I just have to check in with Him and have a one on one with Him. I know he is watching and aware of everything but I feel that just letting Him know what is going on helps. I like to let Him know that I see what blessings he has given to my family and our lives each day. I open my heart and feel that I start to calm down after a very rough day. My husband told me that God likes to hear from us, it makes Him happy to know that we think about Him often. It's just like our parents, they like to know how we are doing and want us to check in often. They want to know how we are doing and that we are okay, same thing for our Father in Heaven. He wants to get a status update (not like facebook or instagram)

Having the power of prayer in my life has allowed things to settle down. I have a sense of peace in my life because of my Relationship with my Father in Heaven has started to improve. It was rough there for a very long time and I have started to actually realize that I need Him everyday (it only took 20+ years) Sometimes we have to focus on one thing to improve in our lives at a time and at this time I have chosen prayer. We have had so many answers to our prayers. Have they been the way we wanted????? ah no.....If we had it our way Ollie would be perfect and Gabe would be a genius in college working his way to make the big bucks (DREAM ON!!!!) God has answered our prayers how He has seen fit and how He thinks we will best handle it. God understands what we need and when we need it. We have been blessed with two wonderful children because we are the right parents for these kids. God has given us Oliver because he feels we need Oliver to teach us to love more, to give more, to open our hearts. 

Through all of this we have prayed and had blessings and I have discovered the way our Father speaks to us is amazing. He can communicate in so many ways if we just open our hearts to listen. I have been looking for so many answers and God has given me answers through our blessings. I didn't see those answers until very recently (like a week ago, like I said I'm a little slow at getting it.....or sleep deprived) 

I believe that through prayer we as individuals can have a sense of peace in our lives. Things start to make sense and though they are not answered right away they will be as long as we have patience (not one of my strengths). 

I understand but.....

So this week is World Breast Feeding Week. I have no problems with that, not at all but I do need to share my views.

The past several days I have seen many different shots of women breast feeding their babies. I breast fed my first and I am currently breast feeding my second. I was not able to go as long with my first as I would have liked so we had to use formula for about 6-8 months. I am currently breast feeding my 5 month old and don't plan to stop any time soon. I have my boobs (gasp) out of my shirt most of the day, this kid suckles whenever he feels the need day and night. I don't use a cover in my own home so my oldest sees boob. Lets face it he has seen much more, but that is for another day. I think breast is best, I believe that it really has the nutrients that every child needs and God gave us boobs for something (other than men) (no she didn't). I also know that there are mommies out there who can't feed their babies the same way I can or choose not too and that formula has been made and modified to give babies the nutrients very similar or close to what is created by my body. My oldest did not suffer in any way by being fed formula for many months and he is the roughest toughest kid around. AND (shocker) we used Walmart brand formula!!!!! (yes I'm a bad mommy who likes to save a penny here and there) did I mention he is still alive? SO I support you booby feeding mommies out there and if you are nursing in public I will not gasp in horror or ask you to cover up. I applaud you for making a choice and sticking by it and you have my high five the whole way.
I personally am not a person for flashing my boob all over town, if I nurse I will cover myself and my son or go find a private area to nurse. I don't necessarily agree with nursing and shoving it in your face. I think it is a very private thing for mommy and baby. It is a very personal thing for me and my son to bond, I like looking in to his eyes and holding him and cuddling him but I like to do it where it is quiet and private. I will cover because you don't need to see my boobs. My kids and my hubby can but not you, stranger. I like my boobs and I like to have modesty also. Modesty is sexy right? If I'm in a public are where men will be I will cover myself but if I'm only around women I will be boob out!! (after assessing the situation). I respect others and understand if it offends you. I don't always want to see some strangers boob just because they are nursing a child but I also understand if the baby doesn't like to be covered and nurses better uncovered.
OK.....lets go back about 50 years. My grandmother grew up in a time where nursing was considered improper, formula was the way to go and that is what you did. Of course they had a choice but a lot of people (like my grandmother) chose not to nurse because Dr. would say that it was healthier for the babies to be on formula. My mother nursed all four of her kids but that was in a time where it was just starting to be supported and encouraged and A LOT of people were horrified, HORRIFIED, if a women nursed much less in public. SO the people who are getting upset are people who grew up not truly understanding the importance of nursing, They may have been raised where it was considered improper or wrong. They see it as an indecent thing to do in public. These are also the people who listen to us talk about the sex and drugs on tv that isn't being blocked or the cuss words that people say. We are taught that all these things lead to bad thoughts and immoral activity, but it's ok for us to just whip out our boob and feed our younglings. It's not sexual it nurturing. Boobs are boobs whether they feed the little people or create any funny feeling in your pants. I feel that some modesty is required or considered but at the same time I understand why it may not be necessary. Before I had kids I couldn't believe that a mother was nursing her child in a waiting room and i was disgusted. I would always be embarrassed and feel awkward if a mother tried to soothe her crying child in public with no cover and not even try to cover  it. I know that when you cover your baby EVERYBODY knows what your going to do (who puts a blanket over a babies head to put them to sleep?) but at least you made a decision to not upset any other parent or person and have some modesty. (people still have an imagination).
I will never tell you to cover yourself if you are nursing, I will never tell you to leave the building or room if your feeding your baby. I PERSONALLY want to have some modesty and keep myself covered (modesty is sexier). Trust me at home I am all out there but when I'm in public it is easier to be covered. Even in Florida where it is hot as hell I try to cover with a light weight blanket or go into a private room or booth. Judge me or hate me but I feel that it is a double standard. Nobody should be looking but we shouldn't have anything for them to look at (like naked boobs).

 Again I support breast feeding whether it is in public or not. I am not brave enough personally to have my boobs showing all over town but if you are power to you. Before you get offended when someone asks you to cover up just remember that cultures, people and their backgrounds are different. They have their reasoning just like you do.

frustration

Today was a rough day for us. We found out that our youngest son is indeed mentally and physically handicapped. He is a 5 month old baby and today we found out that he behaves like a 6 week old. No head or trunk support lasting more than 5 seconds, the inability to track well, trouble stretching out his legs, the inability to roll over, he won't reach out and grab his toys, grasp items for longer than 2 seconds.....on and on it went. Over the last several months I personally have been trying to get him to do these little things by tummy time and supporting him when he is sitting on my lap or even trying to show him how to roll over....I personally feel like I failed in avoiding the inevitable.

I have a bad habit of doing that, trying to do the best I can to pretend it really isn't there and acting like everything is normal...this is a bad habit (slaps hands) seriously, if I don't confront it maybe it will go away. NOW don't start judging me and calling me a bad mom (finger wag in your face). I don't do that with my kids. I honestly thought that my baby was going to be a little behind but not A LOT behind. I have been working with him on stretching and moving his arms and flexing but it wasn't enough and today I found out that I wasn't even close to achieving enough with him. I take him to his appointments (there is one almost every 10 days it seems) I change his diapers, feed him boob juice (did she just say BOOB!!!) , cuddle him when he needs it and work with him on the ground at getting strong but somehow it doesn't seem to be enough. We really have no idea if therapy OT or PT is really going to make a difference but I'm going to give it a shot and work really hard at it with him. The sad part???? This is really the beginning of it all. He is going to need "special" attention for the rest of his life.....so why the post??? I didn't know it was this bad.
We have been told by our audiologist that he can't hear low tones.....WHAT does that mean??? what exactly can he not hear??? NO ONE CAN TELL ME!! Today I found out that he can't hear the rustle of paper, the rattles that babies have, the crinkling of a sack, whispers can't be heard......OHHH!!! So now it begins to sink in.
It's like thinking everything is ok until you actually start talking about it with other people and putting it in words, that's when you start to realize that maybe you are crazy and insane and bonkers.
The hardest part was telling my husband the "bad" news. When he was born I was told that he will be somewhat slower than other kids, our pediatrician said that he will be behind but we just have to work hard with him and he will graduate from high school, our neurologist thinks that would be a miracle. I had to tell my husband that our new baby is not normal and never will be. Granted we knew this was a possibility but he has a bad habit of thinking the good things in life when it comes to his kids. He thinks that the Dr's are exaggerating and that he will come out on top. Every time I have to give him a bad update about his kid I feel like I just shattered his world. He will process it over time and come to accept it but giving the news is the hardest part. When you see your husband crumple under the news it really makes me feel like the bad new bears and I want to take it all away.

I am frustrated at the situation, he's is the happiest baby, he is a blessing, but thinking you are doing everything but you need to do more is the most frustrating part.

CMV

And this begins the story of my second....he has been an adventure!

My second son is a blessing to our family. We tried for months to get pregnant and when we finally found out we were we were moving two months later. I went in for our confirmation appointment with our OB and I kept telling him that I thought something was wrong. He asked me why I thought that and I explained that I am more exhausted and nauseous than I was with my first and that I have no energy. He said that I am fine and that each pregnancy is going to be different.

We moved when I was three months pregnant and I started looking for a new OB. At our 20 week ultrasound (what they now call anatomy ultrasound) the technician couldn't tell us anything much less if he was a boy or a girl. She acted very odd, almost like she was panicking. We did the ultrasound vaginally and on the belly which was really weird to me. We left the room a little confused and we didn't know our babies gender. After a little while of waiting our OB came in and explained that the amniotic fluid was really low and that it looked like his brain was underdeveloped, he started to talk about downs syndrome and genetic disorders and being tested for them. I looked at him and said that there is not history in my family of any problems genetically but agreed to do the blood work. We were referred for an emergency appointment to see a maternal Fetal specialist.

The specialist that saw us did again another in depth ultrasound (it took 45 minutes to scan that kid) and we found out that we were having another boy (yay, we were hoping for a girl, I'm happy with a boy). The Dr. came in and explained what exactly was wrong....He had low amniotic fluid, Bright bowels (we later learned meant blockage) underdeveloped brain and he was way to small for his age (he was measuring an entire month under his gestational age. We were told that he had no idea what was causing the problem (the blood work did not indicate any genetic issues) and that he needed to draw more blood and test for more uncommon genetic disorders and for Cytomegalovirus (CMV)

All our blood work was negative except the CMV tested positive, I had contracted the virus as some point during our pregnancy but never showed any symptoms or problems from it. The Dr. said that the only way to find out if the baby is infected is to do an amniocentesis and test the amniotic fluid., at this point we had seen him twice since our first visit and the babies heart started to get enlarged. We did the amnio and found that the fluid was infected so the chances of the baby being infected are very high thus showing what was causing all these problems with our baby. He said we don't know the extent of the infection because we can't test the placenta. We didnt have a lot of options because treatment for this infection is still in trials. We didn't qualify for any trials because we were too far along and this kind of infection actually infecting the baby isn't very common. The Dr. discussed with a colleague and he decided to do a treatment of Cytogam in the hospital. It is commonly used on people getting organ transplants but has come to show some effect on the CMV. We were in the hospital for 10 hours the first time for a 4 hour IV treatment, I got a cold but my belly exploded and I finally started to look pregnant. We did two treatment of Cytogam, one at 24
 weeks and again at 28 weeks. Our baby started to improve, his growth progressed to being only 2 weeks behind gestation, his bowels became normal, and the fluid expanded. He still showed issues with his brain and he had developed a Cyst on his cerebellum. I went on acyclovir for the remainder of the pregnancy and gave birth on March 2. He was born 6lbs 11oz and 18.5 inches long. He is a strong little boy.

We did ultrasounds and MRI on that jelly bean and we found that the he will be mentally and physically handicapped for the rest of his life.The cyst on his cerebellum could effect his ability to walk, sit or even crawl but we will never know until he actually starts hitting his milestones.  Even at 4 months he is the happiest baby and he just goes with the flow. He takes a little longer the learn how to do things that other kids will do super easily. We have 4 different specialists following him (i think out of curiosity instead of necessity) and we have had a scare with seizures. The hardest part is when people compare their child to mine, he is not going to do amazing outstanding things like your child, he won't start crawling right away. It breaks my heart some days and sometimes I feel so alone and the only strong person in my family.I feel like I have no one who truly understands what I am going through with my baby and some days I just want to pretend like nothing is wrong. I have been through hell with this pregnancy and I am trying to be so strong. CMV is not regularly tested for and if it is it can be prevented from early on. Why not test just a little extra to prevent something like this. I love my baby no matter what and I know that we are going to be the best parents for him which is why he was sent our way. He is so cuddly and perfect for our family and his smile and eyes could light the world.........
He is the perfect addition to our family to add to our farts and giggles.

Firstborn

I have two boys as you now know. It's been a major eye opener and it has really helped me to be a down to earth mom in some ways. I grew up with three brothers so having a girl completely terrifies me and makes me want to gag....all I see is a lot of pink, hair bows everywhere and hormonal rages in my future daughter....not my cup of tea at the moment.

I have an almost 3 year old on my hands. He is completely potty trained, talking up a storm (seriously never shuts up) and loves to mimic every word and action that we do. This kid has managed to say "shit" in the correct form (i.e. "oh shit") and his truck word sounds a lot like the "f" word. He is our foot ball playing getting rough and rowdy kid. He is scared of nothing except the Vacuum Cleaner (which i have yet to figure out and yes I chase him around the house with it because it is hilarious how he screams like a girl)

My first pregnancy was rather interesting. I had a lot of blood pressure issues throughout that caused me to swell so badly that no pair of paints fit right, my wedding rings came of early in the pregnancy, and I have stretch marks from the swelling in places no one should have them (seriously no one warns you about stretch marks on your ass or boobs) Our first ultrasound he was quite proud to show his gender (frog leg position) and to this day he loves to show off his wee wee.

My husband and I didn't exactly plan our pregnancy, we didn't say no kids but we also didn't say "let's have a kid'' it just happened (pssht yeah right) Work was rather crazy for me so my period was missed for an entire week before I got the hint. I took three tests in the bathroom one night and boy did those suckers light up like a Christmas Tree (I wonder if it would be more effective if they yelled "your pregnant" because no one ever believes the first test right?) I didn't tell my husband until the next day and when I did he didn't say anything for 5 minutes. I had started to cry and told him to say something because he is freaking me out. He grabbed his phone to check his calendar and to ask me when my confirmation appointment is. So yeah I was pregnant.

He did not come on his due date...in fact he came two weeks later. I had what the Dr. called an unfavorable cervix. (still sounds insulting to this day) I was put on bed rest because of my blood pressure and by the time I was about to hit week two past our due date I got up the night before and boogied my ass off in the living room for 30 minutes while dinner cooked. Labor started the next morning around 3 a.m.
I went in to wake my husband at our usual time at 6:30a and told him I thought I was in labor and that he could go to work or stay home with me. He looks at me with big brown eyes and says he'll go to work. (of course) I sit at home having pretty regular contractions until he gets home around 1 and I can't stand it anymore and we head to my OB office. At this point my contractions are every five minutes and I haven't peed all day. The OB checks my urine and my cervix. I had calcium deposits and I was 1 cm dilated (whoop whoop) she admitted me because of my blood pressure. They broke my waters and gave me Pitocin to assist in the labor. I had an epidural that had to have three boosts and I went through 4 bags. By the time I felt I needed to push we had been in the hospital for 16 hours. I pushed for 2 hours and still this kid would not come out. I rested for an hour in different positions to try and get him to come lower on my cervix himself and started pushing again. Having pushed for that long the OB on call came in and wanted this to be over with (they were very busy and needed the room and he wanted to eat lunch because it was 12:00pm) I wasn't making any progress and so he assisted with the vacuum pump. It slipped of his head because of all the hair three times (the nurse was braiding his hair while I was trying to push) finally he came out!! The Dr. just stared at him for a few minutes in shock than told the nurse to take care of him. He weighed in at 10 pound 4 oz and 22 inches long....born vaginally....I tore up and down (ewww gross) and couldn't walk or stand up straight for a couple of days. I had lost so much blood and my count was so low that people were shocked that I was moving around and talking but they all looked at me terrified because I was ghostly white. We donated the cord blood and it took 4-5 big syringes worth.

Because he was so big and I was laboring so long with him he came out with breathing trouble and had to be under an oxygen tent for 3 days. They would not feed him until his breathing calmed and I could not hold him to calm him down because they wanted him under the tent. It was the most frustrating situation I had ever been in as a new mom. One of the pediatricians on call finally made a decision to feed him because she said he was just mad and hungry and we can't starve a big baby like that, he fed and finally came off the oxygen because he had calmed down enough to breath. Finally I was able to go in and hold and feed him and eventually we took him home after being in the hospital a whole week for antibiotic treatments. It was one of the most scariest experiences in my life but I look back on this miracle as an experience well worth it. That pediatrician became our regular pediatrician and I really miss her, she was one of the best.

He has grown to be a super strong and amazing child. A true blessing and a true boy. I love my boy to the ends of the earth and I am so glad that we can fart and giggle together.

The beginning

Farts and Giggles about sums up our life. I have two boys, I grew up with boys, I love boys, and I can fart my husband out of a room. Lets face it farts are funny. My life is filled with poo, farts and boogers and I couldn't ask for anything more.

My husband and I have known each other for 10 years and I love him more today than I did when I first met him, we basically grew up together and have seen each other change in body mass, belly mass, and age. When I look back at our old photos together (which are very few) I get very jealous of my perky boobs and skinny little butt (114 pounds at that time). Alas two kids, a full time job, and ten years can sure add a lot into how old you truly feel.

I grew up around boys and I love my boys. I wouldn't have it any other way. When we got pregnant with our second child we really thought it was a girl and we got so excited at the prospect, then my womb changed him to a boy....another boy. My oldest is all boy, literally. He is constantly covered in boogers that he has managed to smear all over his face from his runny nose. I try to teach him to use his shirt but he prefers his pointer finger (because kleenex is too much work to use). The pointer finger gets that snot all over any item he chooses to touch. He has played outside and come in covered in dirt and it does not phase him in the least. He has managed to climb to the top of a jungle gym and fall to the ground, stand up, brush himself off and run around like nothing ever happened. I cant keep up with him and he has a never ending stash of energy. He is super smart and tries to think he can out smart me every day. You can feel his energy the minute he walks into a room and currently he can't go anywhere without taking his "bad guys" (aka power ranger action figure that we got from burger king) with him. He loves all the super heroes (thank goodness) and loves to sword fight, hit and wrestle. There is apparently no room for girls right now. Our newest is only three months old, he goes with the flow of life and doesn't care what is going on as long as he has boob to suck on and a diaper to poop in. I call him my nerd, he is the very opposite of what Gabriel is anyways.

With all these boys my life is filled with all the nastiness of life. Bugs, boogers, poo, farts, and burps. I don't try to fight it because I believe that this day and age boys need to be as much boy as possible. When puberty hits I may regret this decision but until then I stick to my guns. I was never really a girly girl anyway. Yes I played with barbies and played dress up. My favorite game to play with my younger brother was house and I wore dresses and hair bows, I like to paint my nails and my toes and wear makeup but don't let me fool you. I am the proud owner of the ability to gross out every member of my family even my dad. So thus begins (and explains) my life of Farts and Giggles.