Happy Birthday My Amazing Boy

Five years.

Wow...

Where to begin?

Five years ago my water broke...six weeks sooner than expected...

Five years ago a sweet doctors answered my call with "Looks like we're having a baby! Wait, how many weeks are you?"

Five years ago my seemingly complicated world became silly.

Five years ago things got serious.

Five years ago you came into this world kicking a screaming and a dream began.

Five years ago you stopped breathing and we nearly lost you.

Five years ago my heart shattered.

Five years ago a dream that never was, slipped through my fingers as hard as I tried not to let go.

Five years ago I begged to see my beautiful but all too still baby boy.

Five years ago my life and my world ended, changed and began anew.

Five years ago I learned what a mothers love is.

Five years ago I started fighting for you.

Since than...

"He will never hold his head up"- you do.

"He will never roll over"- you do

"He will never sit up"- you do

"He will never crawl"- you do

"He will never bear weight on his legs"- you do.

"He will never talk"- you do

"He will never never walk"- you do and now you run!

and the best...

"He doesn't love you. He will never love you or form human bonds"- you do! You are the most loving little person that I have ever known.

NEVER SAY NEVER LITTLE MAN!

You have taught so much. You have given me so much. You have shown me the world through a completely different lens that misses nothing and never skips past the little things. You have shown me what courage is. You have shown me what strength is and it has little to do with muscles. You have proven over and over that there is no such thing as never. You have broken my heart with "I want to walk mama" then made it burst with joy with "I can do it!".

I will be strong for you.

I will cheer for you.

I will cry with you.

I will always be there for you.

I love you my first child.

I love you my amazing boy.

Happy Birthday Sweet Girl

Happy birthday to my vibrant daughter.

Happy birthday to the infant who cried for 18 weeks, straight, every waking moment.

Happy Birthday to the all knowing baby who looked into my eyes and told me with hers "I get it".

Happy Birthday to the lips that kissed as soon as they stopped screaming.

Happy Birthday to the little face that looked at me with glee the first time she scooted to the cat and came back with a kiss full of cat hair.

Happy birthday to the strong girl that has always out done herself trying to catch up the the brother she adores.

Happy Birthday to the little voice that started with "dada" and has moved on to "Look at my face. I love you mama, I want a snuggle bug with you."

Happy birthday to my intuitive little girl that finds for me what I have lost before I even ask. Happy Birthday to my mischief maker that has me so often teetering between laughter and tears.

Happy Birthday to the big two year old that never admitted to being a baby in the first place. Happy Birthday to my joyful big girl that can find mystery and intrigue and amazement around any corner.

Happy Birthday to my determined girl who's "I'm smarter than that" attitude which makes me nuts will carry her through many challenges.

Happy Birthday to the sweet sister who loves her brother so much that the hugs sometimes hurt both of them.

Happy Birthday to the youngest but by far most power packed little person in our house.

Happy Birthday to my sweet (really, she is) two year old Kiera. I love you.

I have run into a bit of a problem with blogging. People read it. I don't mean everyone but some people read it and now I have a problem. My ordinary life which often turns toward ironic, silly, frustrating and ridiculous is out there for the misunderstanding. I write about what catches my minds eye. I write about the things that take me by surprise. I write about the things that both exceed and fall short of what I thought my life would be but most of all I write for me. I have found though, that when you type it it seems like the little things are bigger than they are. People that I know read this blog and say things like "How you doing, really?" or "Are you doing OK today?" as if my life is dramatically different than it was a year ago when I stared this thing. It's not. And I'm not. I (and my life) are not that much different from when I started writing although Ben and Kiera definitely keep me busier then...Oh for goodness sake! All that I am trying to say is relax everyone! I write about the little things that SEEM huge AT THE TIME. The little things that you read about are just that. No bigger than your little things. Just worth writing about for their momentary impression on my psyche. OK, rant over. So...Kiera got into a drawer behind a locked cupboard door, opened a bottle of nail polish and stuck the brush into her ear. You see! How could I not write about that! Who does this sort of thing and how can I possibly be expected to predict it? Did I mention that she did this while wearing two pair of Curious George undies over her onsie shirt and third pair of George undies with winter boots and sun hat? She is hilarious!

A little fire

I often feel like I spend my day putting out little fires. "Mama!!!!!!" rings through my house on such a regular basis that sometimes I don't hear it any more. And we wonder why our children don't respond when we say things over and over ; ) There is always a toy being taken, finger being pinched, head being bonked or catastrophic spill to take care of. Most of these things wouldn't warrant a blink except there is a not so little voice raging out of a comparatively little face to alert you to the disaster. Then, you get that one glimpse a day (hopefully) of what the raging storms in your home (your children) will turn into one day when a hand is held or a boo-boo is kissed and you think "I am getting pretty good at putting out these little fires". Then there is actually a fire. Yes flames and all (I recommend never using you toaster oven to reheat thin bacon). Not a big fire just a little counter top toaster fire and all of my years of safety training flew out the window. In a brain-melted-by-my-day moment it seemed a good idea to reheat some bacon in the toaster oven. Well of course I forgot about it BECAUSE MY BRAIN HAD BEEN MELTED BY MY DAY . When I did remember I looked through the little window at the black char on the aluminum foil and though "I should get that out of there!" and did the brilliant thing of introducing oxygen to the char. Then of course there were flames. Bigger flames than you would think too, for just a piece of bacon so what do I do in all of my wisdom? Stand there as if frozen to the ground and yell "its a fire"! That is it! Then when I did decide to do something I TRIED TO BLOW IT OUT! I'm telling you I have completely lost my mind! Dave had to actually move my rooted body out of the way to deal with it. So what, I can handle vomit and poop but absolutely nothing else? It may be time to install a panic button because you never know, the toilet may back up or a glass may break. So, fire put out and disaster averted (with no help from ME) we went on with dinner where both kids got up to poop (Kiera twice) a full plate landed on the floor, my drink was spilled, my glasses were knocked off Kiera fell out of her chair getting down and bonked her head, I wiped two bums and Kiera bit through the table cloth. And it hit me while eating my 45minute old stone cold dinner, I didn't have a chance. My brain had been melted by my day.

Deep breath

Sorry about the rant folks! I really am NOT losing my mind, I was just in need of a pep talk. It was a good thing though to remind myself that I need to quit dwelling and get moving in the right direction. I usually just need to check one thing off of my list of to-do's and then I'm back in the game. Just so happened that I needed to give myself a swift kick in the bum to get the ball rolling. So...

We had a great day! Ben has a nasty cold (not the great part) so he missed hippo therapy (OT on horseback) and school. That meant a PJ day for all including Dave who was home with a GI bug (also not the great part). Hold on, did I say that we had a great day? Really, we did. There was no fighting, very little scolding, and positive redirection all over the place. There was even sharing! Seriously, it was like the moment I turned it back on everyone got it together. By the way, I hate that! I can't stand that grumpy old me is in charge of everyones good mood. I would like to pass that responsibility to the cat. He is always in a good mood and doesn't give a care what anyone thinks. Anyway, I was back on my game. We did art, pretend play (my throat hurts from having to maintain the chicken voice that I made up), fine motor, singing, stories and for the first time in days I managed to do all of Ben's PT for the day. I wrote an email to Ben's teacher and he dictated a story for me to share with her. And Kiera waited patiently for us to finish! I have to say, I was feeling pretty good about this little family of ours.

Then Ben threw up in his bed. No biggie. We have been here before, he has a nasty draining nose so... clean up the Boo, change the bed get some Zofran on board to try to offset any further stomach upset and hope that we can save the fundo any more stress. Then, an hour later, he threw up again. Flat on his back, threw up. He just can't make his muscles respond fast enough to get him off of his back so now, our boy who already had cruddy lungs just aspirated how much puke?

I know that you can't tell but that was a long pause to go help retching Ben and then try to find out why my washer just flooded the laundry room.

I stand firm. WE HAD A GREAT DAY! Now it is the nights we have to work on.

Make it better

I have a choice. Everyday. I can make it better or, even through passivity, make it worse. I have been doing a great job with this outlook for years. When faced with a child that if left to his own devices may never do most anything that a typical child would, you make a decision to move forward or drown in the idea that it is not going to happen as you had hoped. Don't get me wrong, I have not been the glowing example of hope that I would like to be. But, usually when I am down on the idea of making it better it is because I feel that I am not doing what I can or not doing the best that I can. I have managed to stay away from the "world against Shannon" mentality of entitlement that I know I have no right to. Why now have I let this idea get away from me? It is not OK to burn out on parenting this early in the game. It is simply not an option so... I need to make it better. When Kiera mercilessly attacks the dining room wall with red crayon (a wall for which I have no more touch up paint, thank you Magic Eraser!) it is my choice to teach or get angry. When Ben looks at Kiera's attempts to potty train herself and decides that a few accidents would get him some attention, I can sink in discouragement or let it go and give him what he is asking for. I can look at the 5 pounds that I have gained in the last month and a half, the 5 pounds that it took me 2 months to loose and eat my troubles away or I can decide, everyday, that I have the ability to make healthy choices for myself. This life is all about choices that I feel that I have made (marrying Dave, having children) and choices that I feel that I was left out of (losing my dad, getting cancer, having my precious son need to fight for his life) and if I don't at least try to make the better choice when I have the option, no one is going to do it for me. No one. It is up to me to make it better.

Happy New Year

Happy New Year. Happy New Year! Happy New Year? I just don't know how I feel about this yet.

For the first time since I was pregnant with Ben, I have crossed into a new year feeling a bit defeated. I have had a very strange break. Dave was home for over a week (great!), I was sick (not great), the kids fought (bad/sad) and Kiera learned to climb out of her crib (the end of the world as we knew it). None of these things are really that strange, even when you you clump them all together. What is strange is that these are the things that I am remembering and thinking about. We had fantastic moments this week. We spent wonderful time with family and friends, did fun winter and Christmas stuff, played and played. I know all of the wonderful times that we have had but this whole break has been ever shadowed by the stress of arguing children. I have somehow allowed my demeanor to be guided by the poor behavior of my children (and vise versa?). I have been drained, sapped, trampled but the effort that it has taken to create fun times and memories for children that this week seemed determined to see, if in fact they could make me crazy.

I can honestly say that we have never experienced a week like this. If I sound a little baffled that is because I AM. I can't seem to guide my little monsters through what ever (and it could be a combination of all kinds of changes this week) is tweaking there moods into a tizzy. Playing rough, I can take. Desiring to inflict pain, I can not. They are messing with each other to the nth degree and NONE of the tricks from the old "Preschool Teacher" arsenal are working. If these were kids in my class I would have already had parents called in for a conference. You have heard the play ground mantra "I'm rubber and your glue..." well my words are bouncing off of my children is such a way that is is actually shocking other people. A simple "Are you thirsty?" from me is met with such a venomous "No! Mama!" that the people around me look at me with that "If that was my kid I'd..." look. I had really high hopes for a low key resting and playing break but seemed to have spent the week putting out fires or at least moving them away from other so that they can burn themselves out.

I had a brief moment of relief when I thought of making it through another holiday season. The discomfort I feel when people move away from Ben at a party or get frustrated when he catches himself on there pant legs. The guilt of knowing that, if I am having an adult conversation, Ben is playing alone. More guilt when I request a movie be put on that I know he will like so I can continue my conversation. The sadness I feel for him when I know that there are a dozen kids around him and none of them has asked him to play. My wish that he will forgive having to feel alone or different at get togethers just because I would like to visit. Making it through a time of year when there is no escaping the difference between "normal" and our life feels like an accomplishment. But I have to admit, if you haven't already guessed, it breaks my heart every time. How much of this has lead to the change in attitude of my babies? How much of this are they conscious of and how much is just a tingling sensation of wrong? I am hoping for a smooth last few days to enjoy each other before school starts again. Enjoy being the key word. We will make it a Happy New Year.