Saturday, March 29, 2008

Winter, winter go away...PLEASE let Spring come my way

Though we have, in this area, been spared a lot of bad weather this winter, we HAVE NOT been spared a multitude of awful illnesses. I am so tired of the endless string of germs!!!
This morning, before I even got out of bed, I knew that I had one sick kid. Austin had picked up a cold that started yesterday.
BUT, within a couple hours Mark got up and as he came downstairs I knew I was about to get some bad news. He looked like death. I asked him what was wrong and he muttered, "Achy, nauseous." UGH!!!! I gave him some Tylenol and sent him back to bed, where he still lies at mid afternoon. So far the symptoms haven't deteriorated and for that I am thankful.
Then an hour or so ago, I noticed that Mia was breathing with a little more congestion than usual. Sure enough, she has picked up the cold that Austin has.
Where is Spring with the warm, germ-killing weather??? I can hardly wait to open the windows and let the sweet-smelling, fresh, warm air sweep through my obviously germ laden home and family. Until I can do that, just know that the picture below accurately expresses how I feel.

Friday, March 28, 2008

Ode to Playgroup

On many Friday mornings Austin, Mia and I can be found at playgroup. It is usually the highlight of my week because I get to hang with the girls and discuss the important things we moms NEED to discuss, while Austin happily plays with his little friends. It is a rare occasion when all of us end up being able to come because of schedule conflicts, illness, etc. But, when we are all present....WOAH! In the last 7 months, nine new babies have been born into playgroup and another is due to arrive soon. Those babies all have siblings in the 2 or 3 year old age range. So, you guessed it, when everyone is there we have 11 moms, 11 toddler/preschoolers and 9 babies. Now, take just a minute and let your imagination run. Come on, you can do it! Good.

I hate to burst your imagination bubble, but I doubt you came even close to picturing what fun results from those gatherings. And the crazy thing is....we actually do have a blast during all that chaos. In fact, like I said before, we look forward to it. We joke that if our husbands ever walked in they would call us crazy and run in the other direction.

Well, today there was no playgroup and I was missing it, so I wrote a little song to help me reminisce and feel better. Now, be a good little reader and join in the fun by singing along...in your head if you are self conscious about your voice.

To my playgroup "Girls", this is dedicated to you and all the fun we have.

To the tune of "The 12 Days of Christmas"

On Fridays at playgroup I look around and see:
A house full of moms and kiddies

On Fridays at playgroup I look around and see:
Two snacks for snacking and
A house full of moms and kiddies

On Fridays at playgroup I look around and see:
Three hours of chaos
Two snacks for snacking and
A house full of moms and kiddies

On Fridays at playgroup I look around and see:
Four sagging diapers
Three hours of chaos
Two snacks for snacking and
A house full of moms and kiddies

On Fridays at playgroup I look around and see:
Five Crying Kids (remember to hold this one out as you sing)
Four sagging diapers
Three hours of chaos
Two snacks for snacking and
A house full of moms and kiddies

On Fridays at playgroup I look around and see:
Six stranded sippies
Five Crying Kids (remember to hold this one out as you sing)
Four sagging diapers
Three hours of chaos
Two snacks for snacking and
A house full of moms and kiddies

On Fridays at playgroup I look around and see:
Seven tons of toys
Six stranded sippies
Five Crying Kids (remember to hold this one out as you sing)
Four sagging diapers
Three hours of chaos
Two snacks for snacking and
A house full of moms and kiddies

On Fridays at playgroup I look around and see:
Eight silly squabbles
Seven tons of toys
Six stranded sippies
Five Crying Kids (remember to hold this one out as you sing)
Four sagging diapers
Three hours of chaos
Two snacks for snacking and
A house full of moms and kiddies

On Fridays at playgroup I look around and see:
Nine babies bouncing
Eight silly squabbles
Seven tons of toys
Six stranded sippies
Five Crying Kids (remember to hold this one out as you sing)
Four sagging diapers
Three hours of chaos
Two snacks for snacking and
A house full of moms and kiddies

On Fridays at playgroup I look around and see:
Ten mommies chatting
Nine babies bouncing
Eight silly squabbles
Seven tons of toys
Six stranded sippies
Five Crying Kids (remember to hold this one out as you sing)
Four sagging diapers
Three hours of chaos
Two snacks for snacking and
A house full of moms and kiddies

On Fridays at playgroup I look around and see:
Eleven toddlers romping
Ten mommies chatting
Nine babies bouncing
Eight silly squabbles
Seven tons of toys
Six stranded sippies
Five Crying Kids (remember to hold this one out as you sing)
Four sagging diapers
Three hours of chaos
Two snacks for snacking and
A house full of moms and kiddies

On Fridays at playgroup I look around and see:
Twelve hours of clean-up
Eleven toddlers romping
Ten mommies chatting
Nine babies bouncing
Eight silly squabbles
Seven tons of toys
Six stranded sippies
Five Crying Kids (remember to hold this one out as you sing)
Four sagging diapers
Three hours of chaos
Two snacks for snacking and
A house full of moms and kiddies

Thursday, March 27, 2008

Bionic Man???


This is the wrist of my Bionic Man. Well....maybe in his dreams.

Obviously there is a story behind this gruesome, conversation piece of a scar. To set it up let me explain the history that lead up to it. You see back when Mark and I were dating, and the first winter we were married, we often headed up the Poconos to take part in one of Mark's favorite activities, skiing. Mark LOVES to ski and weekend trips to the Poconos were like his Disney World. He would wake up early with spunk and excitement, something reserved only for skiing, as every other day it is a battle to get him out of bed. I on the other hand would normally be less excited since the thought of the frigid temperatures all day long would make me want to stay right where I was in my warm bed. When we would arrive Mark couldn't walk fast enough or get his gear on more efficiently. I, admittedly, was usually finding some way to drag my feet, though I always enjoyed myself once we were actually on the mountain. We met some great people during those weekends and always had a great time. And then came....Austin. The following winter I was very pregnant with Austin and he was born on New Year's Eve. That left Mark without his ski buddy and I wasn't the biggest fan of him going up there and leaving me alone with a newborn. So no skiing for Mark that winter.
Last winter Austin was turning 1 and seeing how I have not been the most excited person about skiing to begin with (at least until I get there), my excuse was that it would be hard to leave him for the day and go up there to ski. So again, Mark went the winter without skiing. Did I mention that Mark LOVES to ski???
That brings us to this winter, when again I was very pregnant, but this time with Mia. So Mark, not wanting to go yet another winter without skiing, came to me in late January with his sob story about NEVER getting to ski. I knew he had "suffered" for two seasons without skiing, so when he said he wanted to go up to the Poconos with his brother I only asked that he check his cell phone often since it was only 16 days until my due date and you just never know. On Friday night he was giddy with anticipation as we started to hunt down all his ski gear which had gradually been moved farther and farther back in the storage areas. The next day was going to be the coldest day of the winter, but that didn't phase him. Being nine months pregnant, I was exhausted so I went to bed before everything he needed was gathered. When I came down in the morning I saw something that gave me an immediate clue to his mentality. There on top of his ski bag was...his helmet. In case it isn't completely obvious to you, he wasn't taking the helmet because he feared running into a tree, being run over by another skier, slipping and being hit in the head by the ski lift, or any such accident or unfortunate event. He was taking the helmet because he planned to let the daredevil, adventurer, "I'm about to be a father again" side of himself have a GREAT day skiing. And that meant jumping!
I had to laugh when he got ready to go and I said, "I noticed you are taking your helmet." His response was that it was for safety. Hahahahaha, yeah right! So, off he went with his brother to Blue Mountain on the coldest day of the winter to have the ski day he had dreamt about for three winters. As he walked out the door I remember thinking, "This day is not going to end without some kind of injury."
About 4 o'clock I was taking a well-deserved nap when I heard my cell phone ringing downstairs. I knew it was Mark because he has his own ring. I glanced at the clock and figured he was just calling to let me know that he was on his way home. As I laid my head back down on the pillow, I pushed the thought that something might be wrong out of my mind. No beep for a voicemail message and then within seconds he was calling again. I began to roll my enormous nine month pregnant belly out of bed hoping that I was wrong about something being wrong. As I made my way downstairs, my phone started to ring yet again and this time it wasn't Mark. This time it was his brother. Before answering I let myself try to guess what the injury was, but I guessed wrong.
"Hello."
"Hey Susan, it's Ian. Mark fell and broke his wrist."
"Of course he did!"
I then started to ask questions about how bad it was and what was being done. Ian explained that First Aid was splinting it and they would be on their way home soon. Mark called a bit later and said that he knew it was broken and would have to go to the hospital when he got home. I asked him to see if Ian could stay with Austin while we went to the ER. I didn't ask what happened because I figured we would have plenty of time to talk about it while we waited at the hospital. I couldn't wait quite that long so I asked in the car on the way there.
Mark explained that he and Ian had spent most of the day just going down runs, and as the day was nearing its end, he decided to do a stunt jump. He said that as he prepared to do it he started thinking it wasn't a good idea, but he did it anyway. Big mistake! What happened? Well, he went off the jump and as he cleared the top and was looking down to make his landing he noticed that the previous jumper who HAD been standing off to the side after his wipe out had for some reason started to walk across the landing area. The guy wasn't wearing a helmet and if Mark stayed on his current course he would "take his head off." So, he bailed as best he could. He ALMOST made the bailed landing, but because of the icy conditions he slipped and instinctively put his hand down to catch himself, resulting in searing pain. The guy who had caused the problem came running over apologizing for being in the way. He had to help Mark get up because he wasn't able to grasp his pole or put on his ski. Mark's brother came over and said he would ski to the bottom to get ski patrol but Mark insisted that he could get to the bottom on his own. Stubborn as always! He did make it to bottom, but as soon as he sat down on the bench outside First Aid, he passed out from the pain. Ian said he would go inside and get someone to come out and help him, but Mark told him to just go get the car because he would be fine. Thank goodness Ian didn't listen!
So fast forward a few hours and we walk into the ER. The hospital staff figured we were there for me and then they saw Mark with a very rustic splint on his right arm. Fortunately, we were seen immediately. A nurse took Mark back to have his x-rays while I waited. He came back in a lot of pain from having to move his wrist for certain angles of the x-ray. It wasn't long before there was confirmation that indeed he had broken his wrist. The doctor came in and said that it was broken in two places and she was just going to re-splint it because he would need to see an orthopaedic surgeon. They splinted it in a cast-like splint and gave him some pain medication. The next day I called to schedule an appointment for him to see the surgeon. He was lucky enough to get in with the hand specialist that afternoon. However, that morning the situation became further complicated when I went to my doctor's appointment and was told that I was 2cm dilated and 70% effaced and could go into labor at anytime. That afternoon at the surgeon's office more x-rays were done. He explained that Mark had a "very serious injury" and he needed more information before making a recommendation. The next day we went for a CT scan. The cool thing about that was we were given the disc and could look at it when we got home, not that we really "knew" what we were looking at. Because the surgeon had to wait for the report, Mark couldn't be seen again until Thursday, his birthday. We went in and yet again the surgeon emphasized that he had a serious injury. He looked at the radiology report and explained to us that Mark actually had three fractures and possibly ligament damage, but that was really hard to determine without going in and looking at it internally. He made the recommendation for surgery the following Tuesday and winced when we told him that I could deliver any day. We all agreed the "sunny side" was that if I went into labor while Mark was in surgery, at least I would already be at the hospital.
We were supposed to go to dinner for Mark's birthday that night, but he just wasn't in mood after the surgery news. Not to mention that this injury was to his right wrist and he was having a very difficult time with everything, most importantly trying to get work done. Earlier in the week he was forced buy voice recognition software so that he could type. Otherwise work would have pretty much been impossible since he spends about 90% of his day on the computer and the other 10% on the phone.
So, we waited out the weekend wondering if I would go into labor and further complicate our "delicate" situation. Monday rolled around with no baby and it was time for me to go see the doctor again. I knew that the news would be that I was even further along and I was right. I was 3 cm dilated and 80% effaced. Mark was scheduled for surgery the next day and I was really nervous about him missing her birth. The only comfort was that I knew that God was in control of the whole situation and there was nothing I could do, so I just needed to relax.
Tuesday morning we headed to the hospital so Mark could get all his pre-surgery stuff taken care of. He was scheduled for 12:30 but they were running a little behind and told me I could leave and come back around 2. The surgery was supposed to take about an hour and fifteen minutes plus time to "recover." I went to visit a friend who had just had her baby and then went home and got some lunch. My mom was here helping our sorry household and was watching Austin. I arrived back at the hospital at 2:15 and asked about Mark. The nurse at the reception desk said he was still in surgery. I sat down to read a magazine assuming that he would be in recovery before long and I would be able to see him. An hour passed and I wondered when I would be hearing something, but I tried not to worry. When the second hour rolled around I couldn't contain my fear and went to the desk to ask the nurse for an update. She made a phone call and then informed me that he was STILL in surgery. The tears immediately welled up in my worried eyes and she knew that someone better come talk to me, seeing how I could worry myself right into labor. Within minutes a nurse came out and told me that the surgery was over and though it took quite a bit longer than expected, he was doing great. They hadn't started the surgery until about 1:45 and no one bothered to tell me that when I came in. About 10 minutes later the surgeon came out and showed me what they did. I was shocked when I saw the post surgery films of his wrist. He had inserted a titanium plate and 12 screws. In addition he had discovered damage to a tendon and had gone in to repair that. Those scars you can't actually see in the picture above because they are on the side and top of his wrist. The surgeon went on to explain that he had done A LOT of work and that Mark would need to take pain medication as soon as he started to feel any tingling indicating the nerve block was wearing off. He also said that due to the tendon damage he would need to be in the splint for 4 weeks instead of 10 days and would need quite a bit of physical therapy.
Shortly after talking to the surgeon I was able to go back and see Mark. He did seem to be doing well and was happy to finally be able to eat and drink a little something. The nurses went over his post surgery instructions with us and we headed home. However, Mark was starving from not eating all day long and wanted me to stop at Wawa and get him a hoagie. Little did we know that such a brief detour would be disastrous. Within about 7 minutes of home, Mark started to feel that tingling sensation that the surgeon said would come as the nerve block started to wear off. Mark was in immediate pain and medication was still minutes away and would take some time to take effect. He asked me drive faster as he began to writhe in pain. By the time we got home he was beside himself. He took the Percocet that had been prescribed to him but the minutes seemed like hours. It seemed to get much worse and it was agony watching him in so much pain. At that moment I realized that God's timing was certainly more perfect than mine because if I had already given birth to Mia, as I thought was best, I would have been terribly overwhelmed with taking care of Mark. Mark asked me to come sit with him on the couch and hold his hand which was all that I could do to help him. A few seconds later he started to breathe funny, his face turned very red, his eyes rolled back in his head and then it seemed like he stopped breathing all together. It didn't immediately register that he passed out from the pain because his eyes were open. Needless to say, I was freaked out and scared. When he came to, I realized that it had been long enough for the medicine to take effect and yet it didn't seem to be "managing the pain." We waited a while longer and when things still weren't improved, I paged the surgeon. He called in another medication but it was not a pain killer, only an anti-inflammatory. I am quite sure that was the longest night of Mark's life. The next two or three days were only slightly better. Again, I was so thankful that though I was terribly uncomfortable being nine months pregnant, I didn't have a newborn to care for in addition to Mark.
Exactly one week after his surgery he was only taking an occasional Motrin for pain and Mia decided to make her entrance. Her baby pictures, and of course Mark's scar, will forever cement that day on the slopes in our family history book. As of today, he is two weeks into his physical therapy and has made big improvements. He is finally able to change diapers (Hallelujah!!!!), help give baths (woo-hoo!) and pick up and hold Mia (awwww).
That ski trip will certainly not be his last, but he has vowed never to jump again.
Well... at least not on the east coast...when it is cold...and icy...and I am nine months pregnant.

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

Easter Fun

Austin woke up this Easter to a very special basket. We put it in his room so that he would see it when he got up and we would hear his reaction on the baby monitor. But, turns out he wasn't expecting anything to be different in his room, so he didn't even see it until we came in and pointed it out to him. When he did finally see it he said, "Oooooooh, boooooyyyyy!" Followed by, "Out, out please!" I have to say that I was really proud when the first thing that he pulled out and got excited about was the book. I guess that is the teacher/writer in me! Austin's Easter basket had some very special eggs filled with...
You guessed it....CARS!!!! It wouldn't be an appropriate gift if it didn't have something with wheels and the Easter Bunny is well aware of that. When Mia was born and we would let him help open the gifts we received for her, he always got excited and thought it would be a car, truck, tractor, etc. He would be ripping paper saying, "Ooooooh booooyyyy, trucks!" and then proceed to throw the clothes or blankets for Mia while looking for wheels of some sort. Poor child was disappointed time and time again but never gave up looking for something good in Mia's gifts.
Mia's bunny was telling her how much he loved her little bunny slippers. She was listening intently and wondering what in the world she was doing wearing such "unfashionable" shoes. Of course she didn't say that out loud so she wouldn't hurt the bunny's feelings. Mia enjoyed Easter but is looking forward to next year when she can actually participate in the festivities.
When we got to Grandma and Grandpa's house Austin went to play with his cousins. His cousin Aubrey was nice enough to help him find some of the prehidden Easter eggs. Austin immediately began to enjoy the contents of the eggs he "found". I went to check on him after a little while and saw that he was eating something. I asked him what he was eating and he paused, thought for a moment and said "raisin." Clever child thought Mommy would believe that the dark colored contents of his mouth were actually raisins. I have no idea how much chocolate/candy he had managed to injest up to that point, but it was enough to cause him to have a nasty diaper rash before the night was over. (You can guess why since I don't want to get the reputation for always discussing a certain topic on my blog.)
Later we told him it was time to go find the eggs that were hidden. I am not sure what he was actually thinking as we explained how he would find eggs and put them in his basket, but he felt the need to somewhat hide his eyes while looking for the eggs (explains the picture above).

Though Austin had a great time on the egg hunt he certainly didn't have the most eggs. The reason was that he had to stop, open each egg he found, identify the contents, show Mommy and Daddy, ask to eat the contents, be told "no", throw the egg on the ground because it was now useless and place the candy in his basket. Everyone has their own routine!

By the way, a little Mommy tip for those out there that don't want their kids eating the contents of the eggs at will. This year I used Glad Press and Seal to make little sealed packets of candy to place in the eggs. It was toddler-proof and easy to do. Just lay out a sheet, sticky side up and place little groups of candy in rows. Then cover with an equally-sized sheet, sticky side down and press the edges and between the rows and columns. Cut the sealed sections and you have little packets of candy that toddler/preschooler fingers can't open!

Hope you all had a wonderful and reflective Easter weekend!

Sunday, March 23, 2008

Ho-----t Chocolate!

One of Austin's favorite movies is the Polar Express. Easily one of his favorite scenes is when the kids on the train are being served hot chocolate and the waiters are dancing around singing the "ho-----t chocolate" song. Last week after he had been playing outside with Mark on a cold day, Mark convinced him to go inside by promising him some "special hot chocolate." Well, being that he is our son, and we both love chocolate, he does too and immediately agreed to come in. The special hot chocolate is a wonderful gift that we get each year for Christmas from Mark's parents. It is made with chocolate shavings and is sinfully rich and delicious. (Mmmmm..my mouth is watering right now!) We also have chocolate covered marshmallows to go on that already overindulgent hot chocolate. So, Mark set off to introduce our son to this heaven in a cup.
As you can see from this lip-licking smile, he is a big fan of the "special hot chocolate." As I recall he didn't even come up for air for a good 30 seconds and then there was this adorable chocolate face.
I asked him if it was good and this was the "YEEEESSSSS!!!" I got.
This is the "I've had enough now" face.


Unfortunately, ever since that day he feels like he "needs" special hot chocolate everytime he comes in from playing outside. But, being the cavity-fighting, sugar monitoring, special hot chocolate rationing mom that I am, he has yet to enjoy that treat again.

Saturday, March 22, 2008

Not for the Squeamish



I know that looking at this sweet little face this story will be hard to believe, but the body attached to that darling face has some serious GI tract issues.


As many of you know, Mia has been dealing with acid reflux for which she is now being medicated. One little side effect is that it can cause constipation. So, she went from pooping several times a day to pooping once every several days. That is how this little episode I am about to describe happened. (Stop reading if you are squeamish!!!)


A few nights ago I was getting Mia ready for bed and was changing her diaper. I happened to be down in our basement because we were watching American Idol and I didn't want to miss a minute. I had her on a little pad on our ottoman and was wrapping the old diaper and turning to grab the new one. As I turned my attention back to her cute little bottom, a not-so-cute situation was transpiring. I said instinctively, "Oh my gosh!!" Mark looked over and said, "What IS that?" Which was a valid question considering what it looked like. At that moment Mia was beginning to relieve herself of three days worth of constipation. (Final warning for the squeamish!) She was pushing so hard that the excrement was coming out like soft serve ice cream (but the consistency of toothpaste) in a ribbony pattern. To give you an accurate visual, because I know you are just dying for more information, it was also yellow since she is a breastfed baby. Mark followed up his initial comment with, "Geez, it looks like a tapeworm!" I have to admit, that is sort of did have have a flat worm-like appearance. Well, not only was it odd looking but the volume was unbelievable. So, I sent Mark upstairs to get a bag for me to input the increasing pile of wipes. An end seemed to finally come after about 2 minutes of her "efforts" and I started to clean up the mess. Then she decided to give one last strong heave-ho. I thank God for good reflexes because at that moment a much runnier type of waste came flying in my direction. It spanned the length of the changing pad area and across the ottoman, but stopped at the wipe that I quickly threw up to avoid contamination. I wish I could show you a picture of Mark's face at that point. It was a mix between disbelief and utter disgust. For a few moments he was frozen in what appeared to be shock that our dainty little girl could accomplish such a disgusting display. Then he uttered, "That is disgusting! How can you stand that? I think I just threw up in my mouth!" I was laughing hysterically.


The next morning the first thing he said to me was, "I think I am still traumatized by what Mia did last night. I might have actually had a nightmare about it." I had to laugh because it didn't really phase me and Austin actually had a much messier display when he was a baby that my poor mother and grandmother were lucky enough to have to clean up while they were watching him.


I guess all of this is just rolled up in the "joys" of motherhood. Hope I didn't scare any of you who don't have children yet! Those of you who do, likely have a similar story :)

Friday, March 21, 2008

Fate!




So, for some reason, it is my son's fate to have his head meet pavement or some other damaging surface before each holiday where pictures will be taken, especially Mother's Day. I can go back to every family picture since his sitting up stage and show you a mark somewhere on the child's face. This Easter is no different. Two days ago he was going down the carpeted steps to the basement, as he does hundreds of times in a week, and somehow, with no good explanation, he fell down the bottom flight (he is alright) and got a nasty carpet burn over and under his left eye. Initially it was just a little red, but I knew that was destined to change. Sure enough, by last night it was scabby and sure to show up well in our Easter pictures.


So, I decided to just get the picture out of the way and let everyone see my pre-holiday accident prone child so you won't wonder what we "do" to the poor kid before holidays. (Though I know you don't really suspect us of any kind of abuse.)


Have a Happy (accident free) Easter everyone!


Thursday, March 20, 2008

Why create a blog for the "Fordys"?

I recently got "addicted" to reading a popular blog that details the life of a family who lives on a ranch in Oklahoma. (http://www.thepioneerwoman.com/) Doesn't seem interesting does it? Well, that is far from the truth and oddly enough I have a lot in common with the mother of that clan.
Anyway, as I began reading her daily additions I started thinking, "I can do that! And people I know would probably at least marginally enjoy hearing about the comedy, drama and history of our lives, day and night." So, I am going to give this blogging thing a try. I know it would seem a quite daunting task for the mother of a two year old and six week old, but hey I need an outlet right now and this seems the perfect place to "let it out".
I know many of you really enjoy the slideshows I send out and that will not stop, as they are a unique presentation of our lives and that format allows family members to easily order pictures. I will however post pictures on the blog as they become available or as they pertain to particular posts. But, the website I created for Mia will be discontinued so that we can include that information here on the blog.
I hope you will enjoy reading this from time to time. Austin and Mark are usually good for some humor and there is probably a lot about us that you can learn just from keeping up with us here.
For now I have to go take care of my ever-climbing monkey and my often-cranky sweet pea. Hope you all have a great day!