Happy Happy Joy Joy

We received the letter from the twins' school yesterday:  the twins will be held back for Kindergarten.  I know I must be 1 in a million to be so happy and relieved about this news.  It was our first real fight for our children's future, but as Dave's cousin says, it won't be our last.  We have to pace ourselves.  Thank you all for your support on this big issue, which most of you probably wouldn't do.
It is true that we don't have to agree on anything to be kind to one another.  We appreciate your kindness and support.  Also, we kindly suggest you keep your summer babies out of kindergarten for an extra year.  Forgive me:  you know I'm a professor and I have to profess what I think I know.

Speaking of "kind," let's do the Christopher update, which is kind of working.  I say "Kind Of" because it is SO MUCH BETTER, but it is not perfect. Yesterday, in particular, sucked mightily.  You know why?  Guess which child refused to eat anything but fruit and carbohydrates all day long? No protein knowingly passed through his lips yesterday.  Can you say Blood Sugar Drop?  Dave suggests we live in a Snickers commercial.  Pretty much, this is a dramatic re-enactment of our house on carbohydrate days.

Um, yeah.

The good news is that Christopher willingly accepts going to his room for a minute or two to calm down.  Kazdin's big thing is that time outs should not be long.  Longer is not more effective.  For Christopher, honestly, just walking into his room and getting on his bed means he has accepted that he accepts our authority.  Dudes, that is a huge step forward.

Christopher no longer completely loses it multiple times a day. We have gotten better and quicker at "If you do this positive thing, you immediately earn that positive reward."  That's a good thing altogether. It really is just when he is tired and hungry.  And we don't run a short order kitchen, so what's to eat is what's to eat.

Also, Baby No (as he was referred to as soon as he could speak) will suddenly dislike his favorite food to "punish us," I assume for cooking it.  He once threatened to leave us to move in with a family that cooks food that he likes.  Had he been older, not at all sensitive, and I in any way didn't care about the repercussions,  I would have replied, "Be my guest."

So, all in all, we're doing better. I have to better at sneaking in protein, of which homemade yogurt shakes and peanut butter have tons and Baby No still likes them.

What I hate is that he is not getting pleasure out of these episodes.  He doesn't like himself when he is bad.  No kid does.  We all have to remember that.  He's not losing it because he likes it.  He's losing it because he's lost control and somehow we have learned to reward that behavior.

OH!  OH!  OHHHHHH!!!!  I forgot THE MOST important thing we've learned during this process.  It IS rewarding for him, even though it's negative attention.  The most powerful thing we can do is leave the room (or have him leave the room) for a few minutes.

The most impressive event was one night when he, Bridget and I were going to sleep and he had moved from his normal place, drawn a line in bed, and was kicking Bridget every time she got near it.  This was the end of  a 15 minute episode of bad behavior.  I remembered to leave.  So Bridget and I got up and went to her room so he could have the whole bed to himself. YOU WOULD THINK that he was thrilled we were gone.

But 5 to 10 minutes later, we heard a plaintive, "Mommy, would you please come back?!"

"Why, sure, honey!!" You *cannot* hold grudges with this method.

We came back, the bed was cleaned, he was in his right place, and he snuggled up hard to me as we all went to sleep.

It's the last time we've had that particular problem.

Happy happy joy joy, indeed.

Knowing for real vs. conservative guessing

So everything is fine.

In fact, everything is so fine, we've stopped Bridget's antibiotics.

Based on worries and suggestions, we did call her pulminologist who ordered a chest x-ray.  At the same time, Bridget's temp went back down to normal, even though she said her ribs still hurt.  She isn't coughing.

This morning:  normal temp, no coughs, pain in throat only, and chest x-rays showed no pneumonia and only some chest wall thickening possibly due to a virus and her asthma reactions.

So, again, we stopped antibiotics.

So the summary:
*Pain in ribs and shoulder
*Low grade fever that disappeared and came back strong then left again
*Junky cough for only a few days
*Very good oxygen numbers.

It seems like a normal virus (except for the spike on Monday morning).  I know atelectasis can sometimes cause fever, but it's only done so once for us and that was in the worst hospital event.

We have no idea what caused her truly severe pain.  I'm taking it as a data point.  If she never has pain in her ribs again, then this was some weird funky thing.  But if she does, perhaps it is some new manifestation of her funky problems

I know in comparing risks of x-ray to the risks of un-needed antibiotics, people have differing opinions.  We know kids are way over-prescribed antibiotics and it has long term effects.  We don't hear of kids being over-prescribed x-rays and it's been over 2 years since her last one.  I have a feeling she'll end up back in the hospital at some point, and I'd rather save her sensitivity for antibiotics when she needs it.  Not just to be conservative because she has funky lungs.

So there.

Of course, Conor started running a low grade fever this morning.  Kit had it last week.  Apparently, it's going through our house.

And no one is seriously ill.  Thank the god(desse)s.

Same? Different? Squirrel-o-rama

So back from the second doctor's visit in two days.  Bridget has some pain in her "waist" (really, her ribs) when she breathes.  That's been going on for about 5 days, and it keeps switching sides. Also, she says when it's on  her right side, it also hurts her shoulder.

She had a low grade fever for about 24 hours, Friday to Saturday.  It went away and came back at 102.1* this morning.

First doc said she'd pulled a muscle and that's why her ribs hurt.  :-/

Second doc said today we could hear some depressed breathing in her lower right lung lobe.  (I'm sure "lung lobe" is not a correct phrase.  It sounds really odd to say:  Lung lobe.  Lung lobe. Lung lobe.  So I shall say it repeatedly) To be fair, yesterday Bridget said her left side hurt and today, she said her right.  First doc didn't spend any time at all on her right side because Bridget didn't say it hurt.

We're starting her on antibiotics in case the depressed lower lung lobe is antibiotics. LOWER LUNG LOBE, FTW!

I have to be honest with you:  Dave and I really feel like we've been here before.  Diagnosis of pneumonia that really is atelectasis and, well, things happen.  However, Dave and I are no longer novices with Bridget's lung lobes.

We've got a pulse oximeter and we know how to use it.  We have a top notch pulminologist who will be our next step, should her oxygen numbers start to go down. We have a pediatric team that knows she's funky.

The crummy part is that neither option is great here:  Bacterial pneumonia or virus-causing atelectasis. Yeah, at this point, pneumonia is the better choice.  I guess??

Blergh.

No one is naive here.  This may be the end of the diagnosis and we're done.  Or, we may be at the start of something.

Blergh again.

Mondor's Disease: A Punny

Dadgummit!

I forgot the funniest part of spraining my boob, I mean, self-diagnosing with Mondor's disease.

When I first started searching google and explaining it to Dave, I kept saying Mordor's disease.  That will only make sense to you if you are a JRR Tolkein fan.

Mordor's Disease.

Mordor.

Mordor.

MORDOR!

That means my boob is the Eye of Sauron!

UNSEE THAT, PEOPLE!!!

A Shitty Couple of Weeks

It has been tough here in the Mother Thing household.  As I was telling a friend yesterday, Conor is the only one who doesn't have something big and possibly bad going on.  Four out of five is not good.

So humorous deconstruction of reality.  Let's go!

First up:  Dave!  Dave had outpatient surgery last week.  In the interest of HIPAA, I'll let Dave share the reasons why, but it was NOT elective surgery.  And while it was outpatient, he has had some significant down time.  We expected that.  Sort of.  I must admit that when I came back to the recovery room, his state coming out general anesthesia was pretty pitiful.  It's the first time I thought:  How am I going to walk this 6'4" dude into our home and onto a bed.  He went back to work on Monday.  But Tuesday came home early with a similar look of pain and fatigue.  He's working from home today.  It's supposed to be a 2 week recovery and we're hoping we're about halfway through it.

Next: Me!!  I had a bit of a breast cancer scare, although probably not as much as I thought it was. It started about 3 weeks ago with some serious pain in my breast.  YES!  You are correct!!  99% of the time, breast pain is NOT cancer!  Breast cancer doesn't hurt!  But the 1% of the time that it *is* cancer, it's very bad.  I waited two weeks for my annual GYN visit and the doc scheduled me for a diagnostic mammogram which was a week later.  I *really* wanted one ASAP and they moved it up to two days later.  YAY!!  Nothing on the mammogram and the radiologist was not amused by my coming in so quickly.  I really don't care.  Really.  No one lost out on my getting in quicker.  Doctor's advice?  Stop poking your boob.

So, three days later....I SWEAR I WAS NOT POKING MY BOOB!!  Instead, I was going "OW! This bra really hurts; let me pull it off the sore spot!!" and felt something.  It wasn't/isn't a lump.  Instead, it's more like a cord or a tendon or ligament.  I haven't had biology since high school, so honestly, I don't know if one's boobage has ligaments.  It doesn't.  I did not sprain my boob.

Instead, Dr. Google suggests that I have "Mondor's Disease."  Basically, a superficial vein in my boob has a blood clot in it and has caused the rest of the vein to swell up and harden. It is believed to be benign, sometimes painful, and rare.  It is seen less than 1% of the time in breast clinics.  There is really no treatment except waiting for it to heal itself.

So I called my OB/GYN to tell him about the cord I'd found in my boob, who gave me the same advice as when I saw him in the office:  take ipuprofen and if it still hurts, he'll recommend biopsy surgery in 2 months.

Huh.

That's not what is going on.  I am annoyed.  I potentially have this rare but still benign problem and his advice is take two aspirin and call me in the morning?  Ok.  Fine.  It's rare, it's benign, and he clearly doesn't believe me.  Whatevs.

So then the Twinnies.  This is the part that has been keeping me up at night and making me so anxious that just typing that caused my stomach to drop out.  It is possible they could still be be promoted to 1st grade.  Despite our wishes and their poor performance on standardized tests, their scores are low but within normal range.  So they *could* go forward.  Further, I feel like my emails about our comfort with them being retained got their care team in trouble, something I had no intention of doing. I'll be honest with you.  Seeing all the other kindergartners graduate to first grade makes me sad.  But they are not ready to go up.  And I still believe holding them back is a good idea. We are anxiously awaiting the final word.

Also, don't email anyone in the public sphere.  Just don't.  Call.  Unless you want your email to be part of a permanent record that could bite you or someone else in the butt, DO NOT EMAIL.  DON'T DO IT.  Unless you *do* want it in the permanent, public record, then feel free.

Blergh.

Summer school is over at the end of this week.  I'm teaching two classes, one of which is a new prep.  With all this other stuff going on!!!  YIKES!!!

I hope the rest of the summer is boring and fun.

Week #3 on Parental Reboot

So we've gone through three weeks of our Kazdin's Positive Parenting Reboot to keep Christopher from throwing a tantrum.  We have learned a couple of important lessons thus far.

1)  We're not done yet.  We've made significant progress.  In fact, I would have been shocked three weeks ago how much better things are now than they were then. But we're still dealing with a hair trigger temper and a quick devolution to 5 year old hell.

2) OH MY GOSH.  If there any indication that positive parenting works and punishment focused parenting does not, it was our own N=1 design last Friday. For some reason, Christopher started off on the wrong foot stealing Bridget's bagel at breakfast.  I told him he would only have one opportunity to earn points that day instead of two.  He screeched and screamed and I took the second opportunity away too.  ((This is a good example of how I had been parenting before))  I realized I had just experienced a brain fart and gave him one opportunity back.  That afternoon, he demanded two opportunities and I said No.  That night, he got mad at us and would only sleep on the ottoman at the end of the bed.  I should have ignored him ((MORE LATER ON THIS)) and instead I tried to engage him.  He gently (but  it still happened) slapped me on the face.  I grabbed his arm and forcefully told him not to ever do that again.  He screamed that I could never be a mother with that tone of voice.  He then became hysterical, screaming and kicking and throwing and sobbing.

YIKES!

I'm giving you that example to show What Not To Do and What We Have Been Dealing with.

He and Dave went to bed elsewhere and I slept with Conor and Bridget.  About an hour later, I couldn't stand it and switched places with Dave.  ((It's a commune around here on weekends))  In the middle of the night, Christopher and I woke up and kissed and made up.  In the morning, he told me that he had been very, very sad the night before.  I had re-read Kardin's book and realized that my approach to take away his opportunity to be good was probably not going to win me mother of the year.  Not doing that again.

3.  Who the heck knew IGNORING was so freaking effective?!?!?!?!?!  He was doing his "No, I'm Not!!!" where he basically refuses to do anything we ask the other night.  So we all left the room.  He was refusing to go to bed and Bridget, Conor, and I just left.  Dave came in about 15 minutes later and told him it was time to brush his teeth and go to bed, and he hopped up and did it.  I SHIT YOU NOT!!!    Right?????  Afterwards, Dave and I just looked at each other and went, "How positively reinforcing is THAT?!"  For us, yes!!  Ignoring is a good thing.  Christopher told me "No, I'm Not!!!" the other day and then immediately backed down.  I will freaking take it.

4.  Three weeks in, we're already starting to taper out the points and rewards system.  He received his fancy new Lego set for being good for 2 1/2 weeks and earning enough points.  Since then, we've run out of treats for the goody bag and we're just sort of doing the practice and points as we need to.  I need to read up what is next.  I don't know, but he's not All Done yet.

So, yeah.  Big steps forward here.  We haven't changed any underlying cognitive processes here. I am suspecting that Christopher is extremely sensitive and instead of directing his pain inward, he directs it outward. I think it means that for most of our parenting, we're going to have to focus on helping him do right instead of punishing him for doing wrong.  That doesn't mean punishments are out.  But it means focusing more on rewarding what we want to do than relying on threats of punishments to stop what we don't  like.

I'd love to hear how you all are doing on your parenting challenges.

Parenting Intervention(s)

So, last Friday we started our first "Parenting Intervention" with one of the children.  Specifically, Christopher, aka Kit (mainly because that's a boatload easier to type, write and text).  So our little moose, Christopher/Kit, is a very sensitive boy.  And he experiences pretty big feelings:  high highs and lowwwww lows.

And when he gets angry (frequently because I tell him no, he can't have a homemade yogurt "milkshake" and instead he can have a banana), he turns into a holy terror.  He screams, he hits, he spits, he bites, he says he hates us, he says we hate him, he goes right up to but does not cross the line of destroying important toys/plates/knick knacks.

We have been using time outs as punishment.  And really, it's also been a strategy for him to get ahold of himself when he is truly losing it. Here's the thing though:  as the time outs become more frequent and longer, at some point you have to note that the behavior is not changing.  Our parenting strategy is not working.  ((And for spanking/hitting advocates, the results would likely be the same with just more anger on his part and then more force on ours.  Not a road we're going to travel down))

So I wish we had been the ones to recognize that more times outs, longer timeouts, or more/longer/extreme timeouts (or any punishment)  without a change in behavior means that the parenting strategy is becoming less effective.  But we did not.  Instead this was an observation in the first chapter of our new parenting guru, Dr. Alan Kazdin, developmental psychologist, Yale professor, and author of The Kazdin method for Parenting the Defiant Child.

I have to be honest with you.  While I appreciate pediatrician's parenting advice, as a psychologist, I sometimes think they should stay in their own lane.  So when I find a psychologist who offers applied advice based on 30 years of published, peer reviewed research, who was also APA president (less impressive to me, but there it is), I'm going to listen.

Also, WHOOPSIE DAISY!!!  Although I spend a good portion of my reinforcement theory lectures talking about how punishment only stops a behavior and only positive reinforcement CHANGES a behavior...I FORGOT!!!  Yeah, we professors do that sometimes.

So, what have we been doing?  We have focused on the Positive Opposite of the tantrums ("To ask nicely and to remain calm no matter the answer").  We have ENTHUSIASTICALLY!!!!!!!!! praised every positive practice and every actual "asking" episode.  We have immediately given check marks on his scorecard.  We have provided goodies and rewards for both low level points (one good episode and he gets to go to the regular goody bag) and higher level accumulated points (2 1/2 days of good episodes and delaying reward lets him go to the BIG goody bag).  We have provided goodies for the other kids to get when he does well, which allows him to be the family hero.

In 5 days, he's moved from frequent goat to frequent goody.  He still gets mad and he's still making poor choices.  But he is SO MUCH BETTER.  When he gets ready to lose it, he can handle himself a little better.  When he loses a point or I tell him he only gets to earn 2 points instead of 4 for the day, he agrees with it.

We're only 1 week into this and it apparently takes about 2 months to get the new behavior to become a habit and phase out the rewards, but we are really happy.  It's truly a family intervention.  We are all trying hard to help Kit do well. And he loves the attention he is getting for doing well.  Positive reinforcement is SO MUCH MORE POWERFUL than punishment.

It's exciting to see this in action.  And it's exciting that this is based on both strong theory and a great deal of good research.  This is one of those blog posts I hope can help others make effective changes in their child's behavior.  Leave a message or email if you have more questions.  We'll be updating more about this as we go through the 8 weeks of intervention.

Spring-ish

Spring is finally arriving in Charlotte.  We've been spreading mulch and,for the first time, I have successful tomato, pepper, and eggplant seedlings.  I'm putting out chard and kale tomorrow I'm hoping to start planting carrot, lettuce, beets, and radishes in the next week.

It used to be that I'd start the spring garden over UNC Charlotte's spring break (which is always the first week of  March).  But I figured out last night that it's been years since I've done that.

7 years ago, I had my colon resectioned due to diverticulitis.
6 years ago, I was on bed rest with the twins.
5 years ago, I had 8 month old twins and I was a zombie.
4 years ago....I ENJOYED SPRING IN MY GARDEN.
3 years ago, Christopher had  been in the hospital and I was catching up from that.  I think I sprung a little.
2 years ago, Bridget started her hospital odyssey and I know for a fact that Spring sprung the 10 days from when we entered until we left.
Last year, no one was in the hospital, I was still in recovery mode, and it was still cold in March.  I really didn't have the emotional energy for a big garden and I kept expecting that every cough would send us back in the hospital for a week.

Now?  Now, I'm having a lot of fun getting my hands dirty.  Bridget is coughing.  She is actually coughing quite a bit right now.  She is coughing enough that her classmates ask why she coughs so much more than they do.  ((Frowny face))  And she's coughing enough that we're checking her numbers and they are 'ok'.  Not great, but ok.

BUT.  (all my friends have a big but)  We know what to do now.  We have prednisone at the house.  We have a recent history of everything turning out ok without low O2 numbers.

And we have, what feels like, the first spring in a bazillion years where we can hang and play and enjoy the sunshine.

It feels like it's been a really, really long time.

First Family Skiing Trip

Yes, it was expensive.  It's probably one of the more expensive vacations we've ever taken.  But that, my friends, is not saying much.  We camp.  $50  day for lodging and food for a family of 5 is "expensive" to us.

But I am telling you right now, it was worth every penny.  Our condo/hotel was one of the, um, less fancy ones.  But the view was amazing. This was the view when we arrived.

This was sunset.

And this was sunsrise.

These are the kids enjoying the pool size hot tub (WHOOOAAO!) in the bathroom.

But what about the skiing?  Wasn't that the point?  Yes.  Yes, it was.  So, let's talk about me for a minute here.  When I rollerblade, I prefer flat spaces and going  UP hills.  I hate, hate, hate going down hills at any rate of speed.  So when my ski instructor took me down the bunny slope at breakneck speed (not really, but it felt that way), I actually had to stop him and tell him that I didn't think that skiing was going to work out for me.  Yeah.  That is exactly how lame I am.  The bunny slope scared the bejeesus out of me. 

So, I took many, many deep breaths and we did it again.  Much slower with with me pizza wedging from side to side all the way down.  And I did that again and again and again and again.  On the freaking bunny slope.  They stopped actually checking my tag on the way up the "Magic Carpet" moving sidewalk because I did it so many times.  Apparently, an old woman with a bright pink ski jacket stands out on the bunny slopes.  

Oh, yes.  For those  of you not on Facebook, I fired Dave as my teacher when the first thing he did was take me to the top and show me how to do a "Hockey stop."  I don't know much, but at that point I knew I needed to learn Pizza and French Fry.  

So on Day 1, I foolishly thought I could take a Green Run.  I probably could have done it with someone who wasn't as advanced as Dave. But Dave is a naturally very, VERY good skier.  And when I wiped out just getting off the chair lift, he froze like a deer in headlights at the Mac Truck in a pink ski jacket coming down after him. 

Day 2 was A LOT better.  It was a lot warmer so the snow was very slushy, which real skiers don't like but Bunny Slope experts who hate speed LOVE!  I learned to turn and traverse the slope.  I did parts of a green run that did not require a chair lift.  I made many people's day when I wiped out several times just standing there on my skis.  The best was when I put on my skis and promptly fell on my arse right in front of the family deck.  I turned around to see who was watching me and 4 people immediately began to look for birds in the sky.  I'm a professor.  I can tell when the audience doesn't want to be called upon.  

I'm really looking forward to going again.  But my goal, at this point, is to become a master of the green slopes.  I am not, at this point, aiming for anything higher than that.  

But what about the kids? Well, the kids had a great time.  Here they are getting fitted for the Sugar Bear School.  

They all passed Level 1, beginner on the first day.  However, the twins were red-shirted part way through Day 2.  Christopher  had the skills but not the confidence.  Bridget had the confidence but not the skills.  The instructor said all we need to do is keep them out on the slopes at this age, and they'll be fine skiers eventually.

Conor, on the other hand, is a natural just like his dad.  He passed Level I on day one and Level II on day two. The instructor said he was very good and with a bit more practice would be ready for the BLUE runs.  That's intermediate, folks.  Conor can pizza and hockey stop and generally be a very good skier.  He, too, wiped out on his first chair lift (and Dave did, too, a zillion years ago) so maybe that's common.  But Conor had a blast and I think, this may be one of the sports he's really good at.  

I have to be honest, and Conor agreed, dance class, where they tell you to focus on this body part and have it do that sort of thing is exactly the sort of skill that help when you're learning any new sport. I am so proud of him, I can't stand it.  Really.  He is amazing.  

And finally.  Feet. Imagine a duck's foot and you will have a good idea what my feet look like.  I was  very concerned that I would not be able to fit into any ski boots.  Apparently, though, I am not the only duck who likes to ski.  I will be honest with you:  my feet are rarely happy.  But when I took off my ski boots and put on my F'uggs (Fake Uggs), my feet have never, ever been happier.  Good to know that I can wear ski boots and my feet can actually be happy, too.

We're already planning our next ski trip.  

We're Going Skiing

For the first time as a family, and as a first time in my life, we are going skiing.

The reason this is a big deal (beyond the obvious that watching an old lady--me--learn to ski is going to be very funny) is that during the worst parts of the financial woes of the twins in daycare, a minivan payment, and no raises, we fantasized about what we would do when we had $2000 extra per month to deal with.  Yes.  Those of you with children know what I'm talking about.  Those of you without children just re-upped your birth control.

In all honesty, we still have substantial debt to pay off.  I'd like to pay it off as quickly as possible and live as spartan as we've lived before to use all that money to pay down the credit cards. And for the most part we are (Stitch Fix, Ipsy, Club W, and Lakeview Farm Fresh Milk Home delivery excepted).  FEEL FREE TO USE THOSE LINKS AT  ANY POINT!!  :-)

But the ski trip is a Real Splurge.  And something that, while we can currently afford, would normally be used to make another big payment off those cards.

I. Don't. Care.

I would rather take another month to pay off a credit card and have a family experience when all our kids still like us. We are incredibly cheap in hundred different ways (homemade bread and yogurt are two).   I want to see my children romp in the snow, learn to ski, and basically spend quality, active time together.

We'll take a few years skiing  in the NC mountains.  And then when everything is paid off, maybe we'll check out skiing in Colorado or Utah. Or somewhere extra fancy.  Really, the extra fancy is  not  nearly as  important  as the short time we've  got together before  our children are gone out in this world.

Feel free to wish me luck, but refrain from saying "Break A Leg" because  I think that's a real possibility!!

Taking a Breath

This morning, I just really need to catch my breath for just a moment.

Since Christmas, I have been exceptionally busy with two conference submission deadlines, prepping a new graduate class, and two respiratory infections with the squirrel.  I have three peer reviews I am working on, two of which are late.  (JoAnn and Ann--I swear, I'm finishing them up today and tomorrow).  I've worked every weekend and most nights and I'm not sure I've had one whole day where I wasn't up early (5ish) and working late in over 3 weeks.

Dadgum.

The house looks like it's been invaded by a fraternity.  Shaun the Sweep is afraid to come off of his docking station.  It's so messy that I thought a cat paw playing with a fake snow ball was a bug.

And poor little squirrel.  She is having a rough time.  She had her second respiratory virus over the weekend.  We had some crap ass numbers on her O2.  Sunday morning she was in the low 90s and upper 80s until she had her treatment and coughed up some stuff.  She's going gung-ho most of the day and then she crashes and her lungs catch up.  We sent her to school this morning, but I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't come home early.

And she's really, really not liking school right now.  I'm really  glad we decided to "Red Shirt" the twins.  And really, that is what it is.  We recognize their academic potential and feel like we'll help it better by letting them have a bit more time to mature.

((A good deal of time spent staring off into space))

Ok.  I am really struggling with how to write this. I have things I need to "journal"/blog about, but I feel protective about both Christopher, Bridget, and their wonderful teacher (Oh, btw, The  Daily Beast says blogging is dead. Sucks to be me, I guess)  I want to share information about the struggles and triumphs of the twins, and I am very protective that someone will place the responsibility on their teacher, when in fact, I think what we're dealing with is normal (or maybe not) kid stuff.

We are working closely with their teacher on some of  their struggles (particularly Bridget's) and we're all on the same page  with the same goal.  We also imagine that what may be our goal: "Oh, we're red shirting them; if they don't do well we aren't bothered" could cause our teacher to be poorly evaluated "What  do you mean two children didn't do well.  What kind of teacher are you!?" Right???  That's not fair to her!!  So we're all documenting our choices and working together to make sure everyone is fairly evaluated.

But little squirrel is having some problems.  For the past three weeks, she has been HYSTERICAL about going to school.  Monday mornings, especially, she gets into a hysterical crying spree.  And this isn't a fake cry. This is red, splotchy face, snot coming out the nose, nearly inconsolable hysterical.  And it's about math.  Kindergarten math!!  1+1=2 math!!

I know I'm biased about what I believe about Bridget (and Christopher) so I have to back up a bit. And make some confessions.  First, last summer, we took  the twins in for "testing" to make sure it was a good idea to put them in the same classroom.  For instance, there are going to be natural comparisons between twins about their performance.  Both of them have strengths that the other doesn't.  Is there such a difference we should  be concerned about putting them in the same classroom?  We told them they were being tested to figure out where they should sit for kindergarten.
The results were good and fine.  Christopher's scores put him close enough to Talent Development that I won't be  surprised if he gets in later.  Bridget's scores put her in "average to high average" except for one scale.  She scored 99th percentile in Fluid Intelligence, which means she picks up new things very, very quickly.  That  last link is why we think Bridget is going to be a lawyer some day.  She's always working out the logic of something and is not afraid to share her views on any and sundry topic.

But math requires sitting there and thinking and working and struggling.  At least it does for me, and I was and am very good at math.  It's funny that her teacher says that if she shows Bridget blocks  of color for math (2 red and 1 white), Bridget can make answer the question instantaneously.  But 2+1 on a math worksheet  is not as easy for her. Yes, it has occurred to us that she may have some "differences in learning style" that we might need to address.  And if anyone wants to share some parenting experience on this, we'd love to hear it!!  I don't know how I'd live without step-ahead parent mentors.

So this morning, when she was just losing it at 6 am just over the thought of going to school, I did a little Mom coaching.  She's so tiny that I can actually still scoop her up in my lap, hug her tight and she's not much bigger than a cat. We talked about how easily she learned to ride a bike and how hard, actually, it was for Conor to learn.  We talked about how Conor cried when he was learning to play the piano because it was so hard and we'd told him about it  being hard to ride a bike at first and he had to practice and then it was easy.  The same is true for Conor now and piano playing: he plays well now but he had to work at it.  She may have  to work at math before it's easy.  

I told Bridget that I was really smart because I worked hard not because it was easy for me.  ((I was one of those kids who actually did study in high school.  Everyone else I know said they never cracked a book and got all As.  I meanwhile studied over breaks!!  "Smart" was never easy for me)) I told her that I had to work hard at math and a lot of times I didn't understand it, but  if I thought it was like a puzzle I could figure  it it.  I told her (true story!) that Daddy didn't well in high school, and it was only in college when he met a girl who studied a lot that he became "smart" because he worked hard (studying with this girl, dontcha know). We talked a lot about how people think "smart" means it's easy when really "smart" means it's difficult you work hard.

It's funny that on their spelling tests, Christopher can get 3/11 and could not actually care less.  Bridget, on the other hand, gets 9/11 and she wails at how horrible she's doing. IN KINDERGARTEN!!!  (I should note at this point that even though Christopher scored close enough on his tests that TD is not out of the picture, he'll do just fine repeating Kindergarten)

I don't know.  I'm not a Kindergarten teacher.  Is 2+1 obvious?  Or at some point, do you actually  have to think?  Is she frustrated because it's not as quick for her as she thinks it is for other people and thus she's giving up?  Or does have a  learning difference we ought to address?  (Her quickness at the different colored  blocks makes me think this is possible) Can't we just Let It Go for this red shirted year and worry about it next year?

Parenting is hard, y'all!!

Parenting twins is hard.  Parenting when you've got clever children is hard. Parenting clever children who are having problems is hard. Parenting in a house that looks like it's on Fraternity Row is hard.  Parenting on broken sleep because you keep making sure the pulse oximeter is over 90 in the middle of the night is hard.  And parenting when you get a shot of adrenaline at midnight because it's actually 92 is hard.  Parenting, when your entire heart is hanging out in three different people at an elementary school, is hard.

God(dess), I love those children so much.

Taking a deep breath. And going to go review some papers now.

All Better

I know the only people reading a blog on a Friday night are goobers who don't have plans  beyond a few glasses of wine and a family movie on Netflix.

JUST LIKE ME!!

This is your tribe, people.

So, yes, I am feeling very relieved.  We talked to the pulminologist today and saw  the pediatrician.  And it appears that, indeed, last night's hellish bad numbers were the trough.  And Bridget  is getting better.  After she and I both took a long nap this afternoon, her  numbers are *stellar*.  Either the prednisone kicked in or she coughed up that big loogie of a lung bugger that was blocking her airways.

IMAGES OF BEAUTY AND JOY!!

And now that the crisis is over, my family is annoying the freaking hell out of me.  I have been so freakingly freaking effed the freak stressed this week.  I've had little sleep and accomplished less work in a time of the school year when I need productivity and smart thoughts to be shooting out of every orifice.

Of course, I had to focus on the Squirrel.  I wanted to be there for her.  But we're out of the woods. And I want them all to STOP YELLING and BE QUIET and CLEAN UP and Let me have a moment to myself. DO THEY HAVE TO EAT EVERY DAY!?!?!

5 minutes.  Just let me have some peace and quiet and healing for FIVE FREAKING MINUTES.

And now you see why, after being Super Mom for the last 5 days, I will never, ever, ever, ever win Mother Of The Year.

Bargaining with Pulse Oximeter Numbers

I've noticed a trend among mother' named Anita with crazy curly hair.  Ok Me. This is all me.  This all crazy me.  This is all crazy me and why people with mild anxiety should not have data producting instruments that can freak them out.

So when Bridget first gets sick, I worry because  her O2 numbers start to hang around 96. I generally consider this a "B grade" amount of oxygen. I'm a professor. I think in terms of grades.  I prefer As.  I'm a professor!  As I tell my undergrads, Bs are not a problem, but I also know it's not typical for her and something is going on in her lungs.

Then as she starts getting sicker and her  numbers get lower, I get so excited when I see  a 96.  When 96 makes me relieved instead of worried, then we have  problems. That's when I turn into some kind of reverse auctioneer trying to will her numbers higher.

Can I get a 95? 95? 95? Sold at 95!  At least it's not a 94.

Oh, I see a 94.  94? 94? 94? 95!!! Oh, back to 94.  And holding.  Well, we're still above 93.

Oh, I got a 93. 93.  93. 94. 93.  93. 93.  96!!! 95!! 94...93.  93.  93.  At least it's not 92.

And so on.

Sometimes I try to sneak up on the numbers.  Usually this game is  going on during the night and I'll close my eyes for a few minutes and then sneak a peak.  This is good when I spot a 94 or a 95 and pretty adrenaline shooting shitty when it's a 91.

We are doing all the right things we can do at home.  We started prednisone at the right time, definitely not too soon and definitely not for shits and giggles.  Yesterday was great.  Bridge had lots of energy and great numbers.  And she wasn't coughing much. ((Cue the foreboding music.))  I had to teach last night and just before I left she had a coughing fit that caused some 80s to show up on her pulse ox.***  ((again, haven't seen that since the last hospital visit))  Dave texted me in class that her numbers  were all high 90s!!!  ((He is  not a crazy, curly headed, slightly anxious woman))

She was in bed by the time I got home and when I checked her numbers they were an extremely steady 93.  When asked how he could explain the discrepancy from the texts and the numbers, Dave shrugged and said "You?!"

Probably.

She spent more time in the low 90s, even with all my reverse bargaining.  This morning when I woke up she was hanging in the upper 80s and low 90s.  We did a full treatment at 4:30 am an now she's back asleep, ironically at 96.

I'm not excited about that number (Still!!  So difficult to please) mainly because it's  the max now, not the min.

I don't know what's going to happen.  We've never been here before. We've either started the prednisone in the hospital or used it when there was no need.  We are definitely doing the right things here at home.  I just don't know what's happening inside her lungs and whether her funky hypsersecreious asthma doesn't give two flying fig newtons about that extra prednisone  as it fills her lungs with gunk.  ((That is what I think happens when she stops coughing for a period of time.  The gunk is  filling up her the bottom of her lungs and causing atelectasis))

And now you know.

Still hanging at  96.  Sold!  To the whackadoodle mama in her Hello Kitty pjs.

UPDATED: And as is what always happens when I'm bargaining/bidding, the numbers are still going down and I should have locked it in at that better price.  I'm sure there will be more updates in the future.

***Please!   Someone draw me a pulse ox!!

Enterovirus D68.....*Maybe*

I do not want to hysterically claim that  Bridget has EV D68!! Bridget has EV D68!! We have no idea.  It's *possible* she does. And she will not be tested for it because she is not going to PICU.  In fact, she is not going to the hospital (thank you, starting prednisone early enough!!!)

But we do know she has one of the bad respiratory viruses.  And we know that EV D68 is  in Charlotte, along with RSV, the Flu, and "A Flu Like Virus." (Actual CDC tests paid for by the hospitals say so)  And through the process  of elimination, it seems more likely to be an enterovirus than the other ones.

How come?

Croupy cough at  the beginning signalling "something."  Low grade fever at 100.  Most docs don't even count that as a fever.  Puking at school. (LOVELY!) and complaining of a stomach ache the entire time.  Gas that could bring chili-bingeing sumo wrestlers to their knees.  (LORD!) And that cough.  That mucus-y, body shaking cough.

I think Bridget is going to stay out of the hospital for a couple of reasons.  First, that child can cough.  Even when it burns and stings, she continues  to cough.  I'm very proud of her.  It hurts.  It tires her. But she keeps coughing.

Second, I credit the emergency prednisone our pulminologist gave us.  EVD68 is infamous for turning bad quickly.  For most of the week, Bridget's O2 has stayed around the upper 90s with a low  around 95 to 96.  That's  fine. Then last night, her max was a 95 and she was hanging at 92 to 93.  That's not a number with which to rush to the hospital.  But we've seen that trend before.  The she started dipping into the 80s and flirting with  some steady 90 readings.  Them there are  hospital numbers.

So I broke open the emergency prednisone (or unscrewed the childproof  top) and dosed her up.  6 hours later (I think that's how long it takes to work???), she has back up to 96 asleep and 98 awake.

We'll see what happens this afternoon and tonight.

So far, with the previous trips to the hospital, we didn't start prednisone until we ARRIVED and her lungs were full of crap.  I'm really hoping that  we're ahead of the curve here and will keep ahead of, on top of, and/or out of the way of the phlegm in her lungs.

I really think we're going to be ok.

Of Winter Celebrations, Christmas Pageants and Playing Possum

Yesterday was busy. It started, work-wise, with a very exciting validation of a model I've been working on for 3 years. Honestly, I tried to explain to Dave why this was so exciting and apart from telling him when to smile and act enthusiastic, it’s hard for civilians to get excited about academia/research. (((sigh)))

IN MORE ACCESSIBLE NEWS, the twinnies had their winter celebration yesterday. This generally involves getting to meet the other parents and listening to the children sing in French. (As they are in French School). In the first clip, there is an amazing surprise at the end that I am honestly shocked that the twins ((cough, cough, Bridget)) could keep secret. Bridget is on the right and Christopher is just behind her on the left.

Last night was our church Christmas pageant. This year we moved from the sanctuary (no pictures or applause) to Heaton Hall (pictures, applause, laughter). The kids also did a new play, indeed, the World Premiere of Erica McGee’s No Room At The Holiday Inn. It was a sweet, fun play connecting the birth of Jesus to modern day lives. Erica’s a goddess of children’s theater and singing. It was truly fun and meaningful.

And here are a few pictures:

Conor playing The First Noel before the play started. The tone of his playing was impressive. I was so proud of him!!

Some sheep you might know looking very adorable.

Joseph, aka, my son.

And the final song, A Thousand Points of Light. I think this song is an original song written for our church a couple of years ago. It is a huge favorite among the kids and the families. And this year, the actors were allowed to “free dance” the song because it is really that joyful. One might note that one particular sheep was dancing and prancing all over her pasture, while Joseph got down in the middle of the stage and even broke out some Jazz hands.

Then, after the show, the LBGT group at our church sponsored the dessert reception. It was dang tasty. And about halfway through it, Queen Elsa and Princess Anna showed up. The gays throw the best parties, even at church.

It was an amazing day. Then Dave and I walked out of the church, looked at each other, and said, “Somebody is going to be crying on the way home.” Dave took the least likely one to cry in his car, and I got the twins. I swear to dog, the minivan doors were still sliding shut when Christopher began WAILING about how he didn’t get enough candy (school party, stocking of candy, dessert party) and BRIDGET AT MORE!!! It wasn’t FAIIIIIRRRRR!!

I wish I could say I handled it better than I did. I actually did well for the first half of the trip. And then I screeched at volume I did not know was possible. The crying stopped, but it wasn’t the right parenting behavior.

So we got home, STARTED homework, and did a few chores. And looked out the door. Our back door is mostly glass and gives us a good view of the goings on in the backyard. There is a doggie door beside it and, Sweet Baby Lemur, Dave had already shut it to keep the cats in for the night.

Because standing there, at the back door, in all his white fur glory was Patches, with a dead possum in his mouth. He was bringing us a gift!! Just like the cats do!!!

Screaming ensued.

Dave got Patches to drop the possum on the porch and brought the dog inside. Please pause for a minute, and JUST IMAGINE if Patches had brought that in the doggie door. When you have stopped jumping up and down and flapping your hands, you may continue reading.

So Dave and I stared through the door at the slobber covered possum on our back porch wondering whether it was alive or not. (You know, “playing possum.”) Patches in the meantime was SO PROUD of himself. He was poking Fred with his snout. Jumping around Fred with his paws. And basically saying “TOP THAT RAT, SUCKA!” Fred had no reaction because, you know, cats’ brains are not as developed and gloating is not one of the four emotions they experience.

We concluded that the possum wasn't playing and was actually dead, so Dave went to get a shovel and a contractor bag to put the dead possum in. I stayed inside the house and supervised through the door.

Dave had to open the contractor bag because those things are big and thick. So he gave it a hard flap that was, in fact, quite loud. The possum lifted his head. To make sure this was not some sort of death twitch, Dave flapped the bag again and the possum lifted his head even higher and looked right at him.

New possum fact! They will play dead until some extremely loud and odd noise is made near them.

Dave slowly backed away and put the shove and bag back in the garage.

It took about 45 more minutes before the opossum finally figured out it was safe enough to leave. We could tell because Patches was barking persistently and loudly and I can honestly tell you that he was saying “MY BIG WHITE RAT IS GETTING AWAY!!!”

By this point, of course, both twins were crying and Conor was sulking that the only reason I told him he played well was because I am his mother. The good news, of course, is that once we got all three kids in bed, they fell asleep in less than 10 seconds. HOORAY! It’s just that hellish time when they are overly tired and ALONE WITH US that sucks.

The rest of the day, possum included, pretty much rocked.

The First Family Nutcracker

I  took the twinnies  to the Nutcracker yesterday.  It's actually  the first  time I've  ever seen it in person and it  was wonderful.  The twinnies wanted  to see  if because  Bridget had checked The Nutcracker book out of the library and became enchanted  with the story.

So we  went.

Highlights of  the production:

During the overture, when the music is  playing, the curtain is  down, and no one is  dancing:
"What *IS* this?"

When the Nutcracker stabs the Rat King, both twins were very upset:
"Is he dead? Did  he just kill him? I mean, like is he  a person and now he's DEAD!?"
((Bridget  was about to  sob by this point))

Speaking of Bridget, she  was  not aware that  the seats rise when you stand up  and twice  tumbled  down the row  of   seats onto the  floor.   She was very  embarrassed, but it was  so  freaking cute?

I  sneaked in cookies.  As  soon as the curtain rose:
"When can we  have  our snack?!?!"
"Halftime."

When the snow  and the snow  queen were  dancing and it  was snowing pretty hard on the stage:
"They are crazy! Why  are  they dancing in the fweezing  cold!?!"

And the general  gloating:
"We are  up SO LATE!! We are up  later than Conor!!"

Christopher  asked  for  us  to  do  this every year.  It was a lot  of  fun and I  have  to  agree, it's  going to  become a  family  tradition.   Who could  resist  this cuteness?

Death and Life

Conor didn't know about Stampy's death until he came home last night. In the morning, he had told  me he was worried that Stampy was sleeping so much and I brushed him off. It was only when I  deposited the Roomba for a quick clean of the boys' room did I understand what this "sleeping" was.

Thank goodness. That would have been a horrible day for Conor at school.

He was very upset. And obviously, he felt very guilty.  We all agreed to wait a bit before re-gerbiling.  I hope Santa's stocking gift of a clear water bottle helps excite him again.

In other rodent death news......

this dead mouse is what I found while cleaning some clothes off a chair in our bedroom.  J'accuse, Fred.  J'accuse. Especially when Fred had taken a very new interest in lying on top of the clothes and sleeping throughout the night.  

Unfortunately, I've come to expect these sorts of adventures with Fred in the house. Indeed, the second shriek of the day occurred when I found the the giant  (plastic) ant the kids had hidden on the top of the dresser.  The physical and emotional reaction has become so natural, I couldn't even touch it and made Dave move the giant plastic ant so I could keep cleaning. 

In a more delight-in-death news, our Thanksgiving Turkey was a hit this year! BACON FOR THE WIN!!

Start with some apples and sage.....

cover in bacon.....

die and go to heaven.

This one is a definite repeat. In fact, we might repeat it at Christmas!! The bacon alone is pure heaven.

I'm sure it's distasteful to link gerbil/mouse death with eating turkey. But we're on an urban farm around here and I was a strict vegetarian for 7 years. No need to sugar coat what we're doing when we eat meat. Coat it in bacon. It is very tasteful, indeed.  

Gerbil Deaths

Ugh.

Shit.

Ugh.

Stampy Longnose, the final  gerbil from  Conor's  birthday died  this morning.  And unfortunately, we  can't  blame the cat.  Conor forgot  to give that  poor, sweet  gerbil  water.   And Dave and I forgot  to  supervise our dear son in the care of  his new  pets. And now  we've  lost  Stampy.

Pet deaths  suck.  Even if they are  rodents.

Anne Lamott  has a great article in Salon today  about the natural co-existence  of anger and guilt.  I  was initially  extremely angry  at Conor for forgetting to  water his one remaining gerbil.  Then I  realized I was feeling incredibly guilty for  not supervising Conor better and not  giving Stampy  water myself.  And then I realized that  I  was  able  to  keep  my gerbils in water, when I was a girl, because of  the huge clear watering bottle that was so prominent in their cage.  The watering bottle  in this cage is  small, blue, and in the back.  There are real human factors errors with it, in addition to  the human errors we  obviously had.

In any case, Conor  is going to have  a new  responsibility, which Dave and I can clearly supervise, of maintaining the water  for  the cats and the dog  for the next 3 weeks.   And then we'll see  if  Santa  will bring a bigger, better,  CLEAR water  bottle  for  the front  of  the gerbils cage.

Our Roomba

Wow!  Two blog  posts in two  days!   And it's  the second of December.  Maybe I'll  make NoMoRoPo (or  whatever it  is for  writing in November)  DoReMeSo  and post every day  in December.

ANYHOO......

The Roomba.   Or as we are calling it:  Shaun the Sweep  (Dave gets credit  for that!)

YEAH!

So if  you  are  people  who vacuum and/or sweep frequently  or even occasionally, you  probably don't  need this.  But if you are  like  us  and the kids  and  the  animals are  all amazed every  time  they  see  a broom or a vacuum,  this  appliance  might  be  for you.

So  questions folks have  asked: Does  it get  corners?     Does  it  get  the whole  room?  Does it  work on wood floors  and area  carpets?   Does  it actually  work?

*Yes  (and  gets  all the way  under  sofas  and beds and dressers)
*Yes (it takes a long time, like an hour  when you'd  take 15 minutes.  But  that's  an  hour you're  doing something else)
*Yes! It adjusts to carpets and wooden floors  and tiles and even gets  this funky, dirty welcome mat  we  have
*Yes, it  actually  works.  In  fact  it  works  a lot  like  this:

Shaun  flashes and light circles around when he  finds a really dirty  spot, which was constantly  the first time  around our house.

The thing is, instead of  having Dave get  out the  vacuum, more all the furniture  around, pick  all the crap  up  off  the floor (that  is  now a constant--no crap  on the floor any more), and then put all the furniture back and put away the  vacuum, now, after breakfast,   I just pick  up  Shaun from his docking station, put  him  in our high traffic area,  turn him loose, pour myself a  cup  of  coffee  and come up here to tell you  about it while he  cleans  up  downstairs.

That was a long sentence.  That was longer  than the  effort it has  taken  us  to  do  this.

If you regularly vacuum, you probably don't need this.  If you are  slobs like  us  and can't  afford  a regular  housekeeper  and  your kids have  asthma  and the  house ought  to  be cleaner, this thing  is fan-freaking-tastic.

So yeah!  We're  not  getting any endorsement (HA!)  for  writing this review.  I  love  it. And  I'm using it  twice a day  in different parts  of the house.   Yes.  I  have gone from never  vacuuming to  a mean, hard driving taskmaster for  our robot!!  :-)   I  love it!

Crazy Fall and Update on Twins

It has been an extremely stressful fall.  Dave's father passed.  A very good friend  of mine's  father unexpectedly passed way too young.  A good  friend was diagnosed with breast cancer.   Another  good friend's  marriage hit  a very rocky spot.  Another good  friend's  daughter is  dealing with a serious health  crisis.  My  mom's  blood  pressure  is  jumping  all over the  place.   Add in  a couple  of  dead gerbils, murdered  by the  family  cat, and it's  been a bit  rough around here this fall.

And  then we have  the twins.

The  twins  are fine.  Christopher has  had a bit  of  an  on-going  cough, but  they are  both  quite healthy and doing well.

Still, Kindergarten has been a bit more of a difficult transition than we  thought and  we  have decided  to  hold  them back next year.   Yes, I  realize that  it's early  to pull the trigger on that decision.   But what we see  is  not just  whether they are mastering what they  are supposed in Kindergarten, but  1) they  are  young  for kindergarten,  2)  we would  have held  them  back if  we'd had  the money to pay  for  Transition-to-Kindergarten, 3)  we  held  Conor back  (same due date as  twins) and it was the best decision we've ever made, 4) despite Dave and I  being as old as dirt, we are  a  young (i.e., not wanting to  grow  up  quickly) family, and 5) they *are*  having  to  work  a bit hard(er)  to  master basic kindergarten objectives like writing their letters and learning the alphabet.

Dave and I  see this  as an opportunity to give the  kids one more year of  youth and also the  best opportunity for  them to do  as well as they  can in school.  Academically, we know the kids are above average.  Developmentally, though, they are  young for  Kindergarten.  They are June birthdays,  but were 6 weeks  preemie  and have had serious health issues. Why  *not* let them have another year  to  really  build their foundational skills and mature before the real work starts? Why not  give them every  opportunity  in the  world?

It's ironic, isn't it?  We see our  decision as being  very ambitious for  them.  It's  not  what  most families  would  choose as "ambitious" but it seems to us like  the best opportunity for  them.

We have  the support  of  their  wonderful teacher, the school counselor, and the zillions of  our successful friends  who were held back  by their  parents when they were in  school.  We're  "announcing" it to help normalize it  to other  families. As a  college prof, I  have had  lot of students struggle  to get their degree  as quickly as  they  can so they  can get  out  and  start working.  I point out  that going slower will likely help  them get  more out  of  their  degree and that, really, what  is the difference of  working 49 compared to  50  more  years  before they  retire.   (That  one always gets them)

So  there  you go.  We're  positioning  this to the kids that they are going to be  "Teacher's  Helpers" next year.  We thought we'd throw it  out  to  the  Internets so folks  aren't  surprised when  the transition to  Kindergarten starts up  again next fall.