Helen's World

This little girl has us laughing and scratching our heads at the same time.

Here her diaper fell off in the parking lot of Dr. Wiatrak's office building. She wasn't yelling, "PODDY! PODDY!" for no reason.

Here is a brief moment of quiet at the Golden Arches. Lately, she has been acting shy (while remaining observant) in public.

Helen see, Helen do. Mommy cleans, now how 'bout you? In her determined mode, she got the broom out of its holder on the wall, accidentally smacking Mommy between the eyes with the handle.

Lately, she chooses several "items of the day," and hauls them everywhere. This day, it was her night-night bear and her cup. The number of items ranges from 2-4, usually evolving into whatever triggers her fancy. She will browse room by room, adding to her collection, hollering her frustration when stuff starts dropping. (It's like me walking into a store and only grabbing a basket. That's when you find all the good deals and you end up needing a cart.)

And conking out for an extremely rare morning nap during room time. Remove whatever is uncomfortable, clutch all that is precious--this day it was a travel pack of Kleenex--and float into oblivion.

New Skirt

Here's a skirt I made for myself, using fabric and bias tape from Heather and a vintage (never used) zipper from Leslie's grandmother's collection. I made sure to hand-sew a hook and eye above the zipper, so that I wouldn't have another unfortunate experience like I had a few years ago.......that involved church and a slippery red skirt with an easy-open zipper......in front of God and everybody. I didn't want to turn on the light in the room, because Jack was sleeping on the bed, but it is a rich shade of orange.

A New Helper

I've always been a champion of the underdog. Maybe it all began when I had Charlotte's Web read to me, and listened to Fern save the runt piglet from the axe. Wilbur turned out to be a pretty fantastic pig. I remember applying some of Fern's life-saving tactics on my mom when our cat had pre-term kittens. Mom let me keep them in a box inside, but it didn't end well.

I'm also one to save little bits of things, finding a use for them later. Construction paper scraps, fabric scraps, the bottom of the ketchup bottle, stale bread crusts. I try to avoid wasting something I bought or made.

When we moved to this 30-year old house, we were faced with the dilemma of the original kitchen appliances. Grandpas took their new fridge with them, so that replacement was a no-brainer. We had to buy a microwave too, to be installed over the 2-year-old range. We decided to spray-paint the old oven and dishwasher doors, and get as much use out of the dinosaurs that we could. I was happy with this restorative solution, and set about discovering and working with the quirks of my old appliances.

I have previously testified about my oven. I have not said anything about the dishwasher. Until now. The very first time I used it, I ran to the living room window and looked out to see who was driving the tractor out to which field. I saw only grass waving in the breeze and empty sky. I was mistaken. It was the dishwasher, loudly washing its dirty load. The thing was so noisy, we couldn't carry on conversations in the kitchen. If the phone rang, I had to take it to another room--far away. Even then, the person on the other end would ask, "WHAT is THAT?!" If I would have to run it when we had company over, undoubtedly our guests would perk up their heads with puzzled looks during its ear-shattering screeches. It really did sound like a jet engine. Jason and I developed our own interpretations of its sounds, and sometimes sat around imitating it, just for kicks. It washed my dishes fairly well, when I used it. I attributed the sometimes resulting dirty dishes to my own fault of cramming every last article I could into the beast. Black residue of some kind would appear over all the inside, and I had to scrub it off with a toothbrush. Then lately, it ceased to drain properly. After each wash, I had water standing in the bottom of the tub. Foul-smelling, backed-up-drain water. I told the Mr. about it.

I had a doctor's appointment on Friday, and when I came home, I saw that the Mr. had replaced it with a new Whirlpool! At first I was sad for my little friend, since it had held my sympathies for so long and had embodied my ideals of making the most out of our resources. When I recovered from my shock, I asked him what changed his mind. "When I opened it last night and smelled poop!" he said.

I used the Whirlpool once. Twice. Three times. I couldn't believe how clean my dishes got. Squeaky clean! I couldn't believe how quiet it was. I could hear myself think.

Jason cleaned out the drain last night. It was a very gross job.

I've decided I've got myself a great dishwasher, and a great man!

Jack turned one month old a few weeks ago...

Jack is doing great! At nearly 6 weeks, his final bedtime is usually 11 pm. He has been waking up mostly at 4 am, but sometimes at 2:30 am, for a quick and ravenous feed, after which he plunges back into a deep sleep. Either way, he usually is up again at 6 am for a more leisurely, drowsier feeding and then settles into a first morning nap until 9 or 10. His 5-week weight check showed him at 9 pounds, 5 ounces.

We're seeing some real smiles. I love the jowlsy cheeks . The second chin looks like it might divide into a third.
Owen is back to feeling much better. He hasn't needed any pain medication for a few days, so I think it's time to clear the pharmacy off my kitchen windowsill. Here he is watching his requested DVD--a Dave Matthews concert. We had a glimpse of his future aspirations when he told Jason he wants to play music on TV.

Helen continues to love on her baby brother. She has really done a one-eighty.

Before Jack arrived, I was seriously stressed about how all three kids were going to get along, and was dreading the adjustment period. The week before his birth, I felt like I had an impression from God. I pictured Jack on a blanket on the floor, with Owen and Helen busy around him, pausing their play once in a while to kiss him and snuggle with him. After that, I had peace. And really, we've actually had a few moments just like that.

Things as they are...

Our family made it to the 9:00 service at church this morning! Since Jack was born, we hadn't been able to get ready before the 11:00. But there were a few loose ends that a few keen eyes caught.

To save time, I tried a curly hairstyle that I didn't have to blow-dry. When we dropped off Owen at his class, my observant nephew grinned at me and said, "Aunt Joyce, your hair looks funny!" Jason and I immediately busted a gut. I wanted to hear it again, so I pretended I hadn't heard him and asked him what he had said. He repeated, "Your hair looks funny!"

My sense of humor won over my ego. "Why does it look funny?" I prompted.

"It's still WET!"

After the service, I picked up Helen and Jack from their class. Helen started playing with the new orange gingham skirt* I had just made for myself. She was intent on one little spot in the front, picking and poking away. I finally looked down from my conversation, and here was a tiny imperfection in the fabric that I hadn't noticed and couldn't have cared less about.

Then after lunch, I was sitting in the recliner feeding Jack. Owen climbed up beside me and started hitting my left chest. He concernedly suggested, "Jack needs to eat this one!"


I'm so glad to be surrounded by kids who help me keep it real.

* Fabric courtesy of Heather, pictures to follow.

Surgery Pictures

Here is Children's Hospital in Birmingham, in the UAB medical district.

Owen played in the one-day surgery waiting room before we were called back. He was so excited. The poor thing didn't have a clue how bad his "throat ouchie" was going to be.
The interning anesthetist went over Owen's medical history and made friends with Owen. He appeared to have a heart for kids.
Owen got to drive a car while we were waiting for the call from the operating room. His new Paw Paw bear got a ride too. Paw Paw W. gave him the bear before we left Atmore.

Still waiting...and listening to Daddy's iPod. Bless us all, Owen got a dose of Versed before he had to go to surgery. After that took effect, he couldn't have cared less about being carried away from Mom and Dad by a total stranger.
This was the morning after his surgery, in the Special Care Unit, right before we got moved to his room on the 5th floor. Jason had spent the night in that chair, getting zero sleep. I had spent the night at the hotel room with Jack and got nearly 5 hours.
We had a nice visit from Lisa, who was up in Birmingham for her job as a legmaker!
Owen still wasn't too excited about life.
Not totally excited about drinking, either, but wanted to take a little walk down the hall. Fortunately for us all, Owen doesn't care about the color of his cup---yet.

He felt a little better after a sponge bath and real pajamas, and was ready to cuddle with Jack.
And then he found the bed controls.
The next day, our nurse Ms. Beth saline locked his IV, and we got to take a wagon ride over to the Children's Harbor, which is an absolutely awesome building across the street with all sorts of games and activities for parents and children. It even had a basketball court and an exercise room, and nap rooms, showers and laundry facilities for parents.
Owen tired out quickly, and wanted to come back and play Clifford and Elmo on Daddy's computer.

Jack got lots and lots of Grandma time.

Owen's fire jammies were an absolute hit with the hospital staff. They spread the word amongst themselves about "that cute little boy with the fire pajamas." One CA stuck her head in to check Owen, and then laughingly told me she wanted me to make her husband a pair of fire jammies.

Our nurse Ms. Quinita, who worked the 3-11 shift, was outstanding. She even went so far as to bring Owen his very own stethoscope, because he kept asking her to "hear my heart."

One last Owen-requested heart check by his nurse Ms. Beth on the day of discharge. We loved Beth--she had a little 3-year-old boy named Evan and a 9-month-old girl named Emma.
All loaded up and ready to go home. Guess who slept 90% of the way back to Atmore?

The five senses

If your five senses were present in room 541 at Children's Hospital,

You would SEE a normal-looking boy with a very bothersome IV in his left hand.

You would TASTE some pretty bland, soft food--Jell-O, mashed potatoes, yogurt, ice cream--doctor's orders. I'm not sure why the ham and cheese sandwich, French fries, over-cooked chicken, mushy broccoli and oatmeal cookies were on his tray, other than for the highly prized quality of sogginess that most hospital food achieves after being under a lid for a while!

You would HEAR loud snoring from a small boy. The doctor says that will tone down as his swelling decreases.

You would SMELL--well, in short, post-anesthesia gas. If only we could put a scratch-n-sniff feature on this post....

You would TOUCH some very sweet, soft, freshly sponge-bathed and lotioned little boy skin.

Owen ate a little lunch under Mommy's direction, then got very tired of swallowing, so he got some more Lortab. He then quickly fell asleep with the help of a back rub and a story from Grandma B.

We are forcing fluids down his throat and hoping to have his IV removed this afternoon. Probable discharge tomorrow morning. We are feeling the need to get home to our little girl and life as normal.