Lost faith in the Doc or Gained faith in God?

**after writing this, a dear friend wrote this to me and, not only did it make me laugh, but it gave me greater perspective: Monique, remember that developmental standards were developed by humans. God has his own timetables, but I'm sure he thinks its cute that we came up with our own. Thanks sweet Jen! 

Poor little Logan has had issue after issue with ear infections, like 6 (or was it 7? I lost count) in the first year of his life, and then this summer we got a chance to meet with an outstanding ENT who is also a State Legislator for Utah. Our family probably paid for some of his campaign with our 4 surgeries in 3 days. Go Barlow! He was fantastic! I would have voted for him. For Logan, he took his adenoids out and put ear tubes in. Sounds like the Hokey Pokey song, huh? Logan became a different baby. He babbled, he learned to stand, he interacted more with people, he was on track to be normal. People always say, "It's okay to be different!" But they probably have "normal" children. (I know all kids are different. But it still stresses parents out when they are below the "mark." It's lame, but we do.)

Do you see sweet Logan tugging at his ear? Poor guy.

When it comes to development, "normal" can either be a finish line or for some, not even an option. (By the way, I can't stand "normal" but I can't find a better word. On par maybe?) And with Logan, I just wanted to start the race. After we did the surgery hokey pokey and he was starting to shake it all about with all the "normal" baby stuff (6 months delayed mind you), we were excited to cheer him on in his personal race. And boy did he have some ground to cover!

So we started with PT. Physical Therapy made me want to cry along with Logan. Someone told me that they call it PT for a reason. Pain and Torture! It was HARD for Logan and hard to watch him go through it, but I can attest that it was totally worth it. They would work with him for 30 minutes, then make me do the exercises for 15 minutes to make sure that I knew what I was doing when we went home and did it.

Logan hated me. No, I'm serious. We would work hard every morning and then throughout the day he would try to avoid me as much as possible. When we were shopping in Walmart he made me feel like I was a kidnapper because he would reach for anyone and everyone walking by and whine if when they wouldn't pick him up. Even the scary looking people. And, let's face it. It's Walmart. Scary people were everywhere! He got over this longing to leave me after we have been living here in Prague for a couple of months. Boy did he boost those Czech ladies' self esteem! He didn't even care if they spoke English! Now, folks, THAT is tough love. I knew it was good for him. He didn't think so.

So we fast forward a bit and his development started slowing down. We were waiting for funding for PT so we can continue this "fun" race. The exercises I have been doing became useless because he was finally crawling, but I didn't know how to help him with walking. He wouldn't even walk around furniture. I'm sure you have all played the waiting game. I tend to lose every time. I get cranky and dwell on it. Not so good for your overall well being.

Then BAM! He gets a MAJOR ear infection. Again. One tube is draining this yucky booger-like gunk, but he is pulling on both ears, so we go to the doctor here who can't see the tube in his left ear. Crap. No tube. He's not positive, so we go to an ENT to make sure. He gets his fancy shmancy microscope and looks into the ear and concurs that there is indeed no tube. Logan gets connected to a machine that can tell if he can hear out of his ear, and it flat lines. Just like a heart monitor. His ear is dead. Double crap.

Sooooo, we talk about going to London to reinsert another tube, but B leaves for DC for almost a month. Good timing huh? So another round of the waiting game. I get no sympathy from Logan. Ha ha mom. Now it's your turn to suffer! We go on yet another round of antibiotics and since this is his first time in Prague getting antibiotics, I tell the doctor the exact kind of antibiotics that work for him and even the dose. Mr Doctor is the kind of doctor that isn't really impressed with that kind of parent know how. He's more the type of "sit there and listen to my knowledgeable self and you may just nod in approval and bask in my smartiness and big words" kind of doctor. I'm sure we will get along GREAT... if I could only just keep my big yapper shut. Not a chance. Wish me luck for the next 3 years. I digress...

After 3 days on the antibiotics he is back to his "normal" self and then some. Within a week he is scooting around furniture. Within 2 weeks he is taking steps and saying words! He couldn't even say the sound of that word, let alone the actual word! If his life were a movie, there would be loud angelic music in the background singing, "Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Brothers and Sisters it is a miracle!"

The antibiotics have cleared his infection and has catapulted his development. I am convinced that his clogged ears are linked to his balance and speech. Okay, so it doesn't take a genius to make the connection, but I had to state the obvious so that obviously I don't get messages from my smarty pants friends and family who have noticed the obvious.

But we still have a tube missing. crap. In the mean time, my family is praying, B's family is praying, our family is praying, and friends are praying that it will all work out because if I fly to London with Logan, it would just be a tough situation all around. B trying to be a single working dad with 2 kids at home seemed impossible...

BUT, drum roll please I went in today for a followup appointment for Logan and GUESS WHAT??!!!? He has both tubes in his ears!!

Now I have a choice. I can lose faith in the Doc(s) and blame them for unnecessary worry, or I can gain greater faith in God. Come on. Why bring all that negativity around? I am going to thank my Heavenly Father and all those who have been praying for our family and that we don't have to do the Hokey Pokey again. Today was a great day and I am not even going to think about the HOW or WHY this happened and just be grateful that it did. Just for Logan, tonight say a little prayer thanking our Maker for this little miracle in our little life. Man we have it good. The End.

Mmmm awesomeness

When I tell people I have 4 kids, some call me crazy or stupid. They don't say it to my face, mind you. They don't have to. I can see it in their eyes. They look me up and down and I see the, "She doesn't seem to look mentally ill" look they give me and for a moment I actually DO feel crazy. Then I mumble something qualifying like, but they are really awesome kids. Why do I let myself do that? Approval maybe? Is it human nature? Is it a character flaw? Being defensive? I don't know, but whatever it is, it has got to stop. Why do I have to justify why I have 4 kids? I don't ask them why they only have one or two or three or none?

Let's practice---
Judging Mom #1: How many kids do you have?! FOUR??!! Oh my. (head shake) Wow wow wow. Yikes.
Practice Response #1: Yep. And it was by choice! <--- lame response. . . will have to work on it more.
Practice Response #2: Yea, but Noah's wife had, like, a bazillion! <---- hmmm still not right.

Or, after I tell people I have 4 kids, I also can get this run down of one of many responses, but they all insinuate the same thing. "Super Mom." Really? Supermom? Far from it. First off, I had my kids one at a time, so by the time you think about having the next baby, you are pretty much used to having one (or forget how it was having a baby around) and you are ready for the next one. Then the next comes, you work it out, remember how hard it is, feel the groove, forget how hard it is, then another... repeat until you have your brood. Bam! And do you think that everyday I don't hang my head back and say to myself, "WHY DID I DO THIS AGAIN??" No. Not every day, but some days. Then there are some days when I tell myself, I can handle another one. Give me one more! But I still had to start with one. Like a juggler who can juggle 6 swords, 4 chairs and a chicken, he too had to start off with tossing scarfs. And it was probably hard for him too at first. It doesn't matter how many kids you have, being a parent is hard.

But then there are those extra hard days. You know those days. You knooow? Those days when you feel like you can't catch a break. You want to look good, you want a clean house, you want the kids to magically sit down and do their homework without complaint, you want the food you make to be their best meal they have ever eaten, but you get E. none of the above. And all you get is F. going through the motions hoping you survive the day. And you are surprised that you do.

But then there are those other days. Those amazing, blissful, you-don't-want-to-bring-up-how-awesome-it-really-is-for-fear-that-the-awesomeness-will-suddenly-wise-up, kind of days. We are punctual, the kids are clean and I have done their hair, the house is tidy (for the most part), the house is clean (like as in sanitary), and that meal was pretty darn delicious. And then my canteen gets full of awesomeness and I have a good stash to hold me together on days when I have do drink a lot of that stored up awesomeness just to survive. Because if it weren't for those awesome days, who would do this motherhood thing? I feel like I have to experience the hard to truly appreciate the awesomeness.

No, I don't do everything on my check list. Sha right. But I try to try. Did you read that? That wasn't a typo. I try to try. Numerous times a day I fail. Oooo, I left that load of wet laundry sit a little too long, should I just restart that sucker? or Holy cow, is it really that time? We have exactly T minus 2 minutes to go to school to pick up the girls! Dang, I have to get the other 2 ready to go out the door and sprint to school. Yea. Supermom? REALLY!? Not so much. Next thing you know I am collecting my kids, quickly engage them into conversation so you don't have to hear or dwell on how horrible of a mom you are for being late, and then scoot them off trying not to make too much eye contact with the teacher. Again. But if you never try to try, then you never know how awesome life really can be.

And believe it or not. Lots of people understand your situation. So what if there are those who don't understand? Yes, lady. I had 4 kids ON PURPOSE! There are moms everywhere that approve, salute, lift you up, commend, offer a helping hand, and even envy those with a big family. I don't have to endorse big families or even come off better than anyone because we chose to have a larger family. But I do have to be grateful and remember what Joseph B Worthlin stated: "come what may, and love it." He didn't say I had to like it all the time, though. I might not like my situation, day, or kid at the time, but I truly do love it. That's the bottom line. 

         So now I have my response. 

I am sure a very nice Lady: I can't believe you have 4 kids. That's nuts. 

BEST response: I do have 4 kids. And I LOVE it! 

Because when there are days like this:

You know that you are truly living the good life. mmmmm awesomeness!

For all you Supermoms out there no matter how many kids you have, I commend your trying to try. Keep it up!

STUCK!

While I was cooking dinner and after Logan's bath, I put him in his high chair to eat a snack and went back to cooking. When I finally turned around from my culinary masterpiece spaghetti Bolognese, this is how he was sitting. He wasn't phased by it or fussing, but was struggling a bit to get his feet back in the holes. He spent 20 minutes going back and forth from putting his feet on top of the tray to back through the holes.

It's interesting how I react to Logan's curiosity. For the girls and D, I would have been inclined to buckle them in tighter so that I would stop fearing for their safety, but with Logan, seeing that this helped him work a bit and forced him to use his muscles to strain a little to do this, I totally let him. Not only that, I cheered for him every time he put his feet back through the holes. Isn't it funny how parenting can change from kid to kid?

I really don't know the last time I dreaded following Logan up and down and up and down and (you get the picture) the stairs because I know that he needs this to strengthen his muscles, whereas with the others, it just came naturally and I tired more quickly of the mundane monotony of the tiresome tricks that babies are inclined to do. (Like having the baby hand you every card in a deck of cards and then you handing them back to him one by one. Repeat. A gazzilion times.) Logan on the other hand, gets away with murder pulling down things, climbing on things, throwing things, and getting into things more than the rest ever did. And it's totally not because I am a lazy busy parent. Nope. I am thinking of his development people!

Can you tell that I am obsessed with loving the strike through? 

I'm sure it's just a phase I'm going through. 

Bear with me. 

The novelty will never wear off eventually. 

Preschool Power!!

After a loooong story of trying to set up my preschool again, it finally got approved and so both Dylan and I are happy. I bet you get tired of me saying how much I love teaching, but I really do. I was one of those 6 year old girls who made worksheets for my stuffed animals and forced played school with my brother all the time. I feel I owe his super smarts to my very detailed lesson plans as a youth. I even remember taking poor Tyler on a field trip to "Africa" aka our backyard and going through the jungle and scattering all our stuffed animals out there to find. Very educational, huh? We even tried to hatch an egg from the fridge thinking that if we kept it warm, it would become a chicken. Not my best teaching moment when it started to stink. But it only could go up from there, right?

And you know, I feel like I can relate to the young kiddos. I mean, how can you not love talking about fun stuff like animals, shapes, and colors? How can you not get excited when they get excited about learning how to spell their name, or making a super messy cool art project? Sometimes I really wonder if I get more out of it than they do, but then I hear from the parents how they are shocked that their child knew so-and-so and it puts that cherry on top of a day of messy, sticky, but yummy ice cream.

One happy dude ready for a day o' learnin!  My man Dylan, or what he prefers to be called lately: OOD = (Double O D). He has announced he wants to be a Super Spy when he grows up. 

3 chums enjoying an activity of popping balloons and finding the piece of paper that I put inside them that tells them what they have to do. The squeals of delight said it all. 

 Dylan is used to being surrounded by girls, so it was a normal fun day for him. I haven't even advertised yet, so I am sure I can find a few more buddies for these cute kids. 

My little man! sniff This might be my last year teaching him, so I am definitely relishing in his preschool moments and feeling nostalgic. He will be very ready for Kindergarten. 

Countdown to Bedtime... now and again

This post is just what I needed right now. Being a mom is awesome... but it's not FULL of awesomeness 24-7. It's okay to count down to bedtime... now and again.

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