Dim The Lights, The Results Are In

If you know my kids, you know they have relatively weak immune systems (It is my little superheroes' kryptonite)

   

 

Ryder has been seeing an allergist and immunologist at Children’s since January 2011.  We first took him because he was ALWAYS sick, specifically with ear infections and chest congestion. After blood work, we discovered (I think to both my surprise and to my doctor’s surprise) that he had a Compliment Protein Deficiency.  What is that you ask? Well, here is a brief and broad description:

The complement system is part of the innate immune system. The complement system plays an important part in defense against pyogenic organisms. It promotes the inflammatory response, eliminates pathogens, and enhances the immune response. Deficiencies in the complement cascade can lead to infection. In addition to playing an important role in host defense against infection, the complement system is a mediator in both the pathogenesis and prevention of immune complex diseases, such as systemic lupus erythematosus (SLE). These findings underscore the duality of the complement system. It has a protective effect when functioning in moderation against pathogens; at the same time, the inflammation promoted by complement activation can result in cellular damage when not kept in check. The complement cascade consists of 3 separate pathways that converge in a final common pathway. The pathways include the classical pathway (C1qrs, C2, C4), the alternative pathway (C3, factor B, properdin), and the lectin pathway (mannan-binding lectin [MBL]). The classical pathway is triggered by interaction of the Fc portion of an antibody (immunoglobulin [Ig] M, IgG1, IgG2, IgG3) or C-reactive protein with C1q. (Chaganti)

Ryder showed a deficiency in the Classical Pathways of his Complement Proteins.  I honestly am not sure how deficient; I do remember Dr. Hains saying he had less than half of what was normal.  Basically, a deficiency in this area can lead to multiple infections that are recurrent, and can even include the development of Lupus and high susceptibility to meningitis depending on what areas are deficient.  When Ryder was retested to see where he was specifically deficient (there are apparently 9 divisions of the Classical Pathways), we thankfully had good news.  His test came back with much higher numbers, which put him in the very low range of what could be considered normal concerning his Complement Protein. 

How did this change? I have no clue (prayer maybe?), especially since I understood it to be something his body was simply missing, but whatever it was, I was glad it was a much better outcome than we originally thought.  He was placed on a year and a half regimen of a prophylactic antibiotic, just to help him fight the infections his immune system was not strong enough to fight by itself.  A year and a half later, I am thrilled to report we have just recently (March) come off of that antibiotic and are hoping he does well enough to stay off (there is a chance he may have to start them again in the fall if he starts getting sick again, since that is the time in the year when sickness increases).  

If this wasn’t fun enough, we added Sawyer in the mix.  (This actually brings me to the relevancy of why I posted this today.) We decided to have his immune system tested as well since he has had so many ear infections and sinus infections this past year, not to mention Ryder’s low immune system. Yesterday (May 22, 2012), we went for the lab results. He had overall a healthy report (like Ryder) but (also like Ryder) had some low or slightly abnormal results (again, nothing too serious).  He also tested in the low average range for his complement proteins.  Apparently this was no huge concern, but was very similar to Ryder’s results the second time he was tested.  It does mean he is more likely to develop ear infections (um, no kidding) and other upper respiratory infections than most kids (the average child in daycare, according to Dr. Hains, makes about 7 trips to the doctor due to basic illnesses in a year.  Kids with Ryder and Sawyer’s immune deficiencies make typically around 15 trips—Great, roll of eyes!)  Somehow, his immune system is just weaker than most.

The other area where Sawyer’s numbers were not normal concerned his pneumococcal titers. (Again, I am no doctor; this is my layman’s terms for all of this. Brad and Allison may laugh at my awkward description of all of this.) Apparently, a titer tells how much immunity someone has built up after getting a vaccine.  Sawyer had no protection against pneumococcal bacteraemia (presence of bacteria in the blood) despite having had his required Prevnar13 vaccines (to date).  Now, this could be because he hasn’t finished all of his vaccines, but Dr. Hains thought it was concerning since he has had at least two vaccines and still has no antibodies. This bacteria, she explained, can be a major cause of ear infections and sinus infections (well that explains a lot!) and Sawyer has no protection against fighting off this when he comes in contact with it. He isn’t making any antibodies against it. When he gets older (over 2) he can have the Pneumovax 23 vaccine (I think that is right).  This will offer him a different type of protection (I honestly don’t know what is different; I just know what I was told). I don’t think it is given to most kids, but since he isn’t responding to the other vaccine, he will need it. I found this when researching this:

“Evaluation of their [their meaning subjects studied concerning the pneumococcal vaccine]response to pneumococcal vaccine can be used as a marker to determine their ability to make antibody specific responses to multiple infectious agents. The failure to make a specific antibody response may be one factor in the susceptibility of these patients to recurrent infections.” (pub.med.gov)

SO, Sawyer, like Ryder will also have to take a year dose of prophylactic antibiotics to help his low immune system (what are the odds?) beginning in August provided he can remain ear infection free until then (currently Sawyer is without an infection and hasn’t had one in about 3 ½ weeks, which is the longest stint we have gone sans ear infection since October.)  

ON TOP OF ALL OF THIS, there was major concern over his weight, which is high 18- low 19 lbs and hasn’t really changed since February.  (The big concern here is that he hasn’t gained, not just that he is simply 19 lbs.) This I have been a bit worried over, especially when I discovered his weight was in the 4^th percentile at his 1 year checkup. I was immediately sent to see a nutritionist; she placed him on two cups of Carnation Instant Breakfast a day, as well as his regular meals and suggested he stop nursing (um, no.)  I honestly think she suggested this because she couldn’t understand why I would still get up to nurse him at night and thought he wanted it because he was hungry. (Just a note, it was the PA and nutritionist, not his main doctor who suggested he stop nursing. His doctor said obviously human milk is made for human babies over cow's milk, but did state that after a year the benefit isn't anything more than simply being a comfort and a healthy drink, not magic potion. And since we don't live in a famine, stopping at 1 year is reasonable.) Sawyer doesn’t really nurse much in the daytime because I am at work, etc.  Therefore, our nursing happens mostly in the evening or at night.  It is tiring at times but I wasn’t complaining. Half the reason he wants it is comfort, and I am okay with that-he is still a baby. And just for good measure, I DO NOT starve him so that he will nurse.  I offer him whole milk all day, he just barely sips it. He has never wanted to drink a bottle, despite what was in it—breast milk or formula or cow milk (so good luck with the Carnation Instant Breakfast)—and despite who gave it to him—daycare workers, me, my mom, other family. That has driven me to keep nursing him, especially since he doesn’t take in the recommended 24 ounces of milk a day. However, I don’t see how taking away extra calories will help. He just isn’t a vigorous eater.  Anyway, to help his appetite, (he does eat okay, he just doesn’t always seem interested) the doctor put him on an appetite stimulant to try and encourage him to eat more.  (Honestly, that surprised me a bit.) But maybe this will help him eat more and get his weight up some. 

SO, there you go, a 1200 word account of my craziness that is my life as a mom.  I guess I will just expect that my next baby will be the same way. Maybe I should start saving for her (okay, or his) doctor’s visits now!

Sources Referenced:

Chaganti, Krisha, MD. "Complement Deficiencies." Medscape Reference. WebMD LLC. July 9 2009. Web. 23 May 2012. 

Zora, JA, Silk, HJ and Tinkleman, DG. Annals of Allergy. pub.med.gov Apr. 70.4 (1993). 283-88.
          Web.23 May 2012.

A Mother’s Perspective:

Getting out the door to go to church yesterday was no small feat. Now that we live in Southside, we have to drive 35 minutes to get to CCC instead of 5 minutes. We couldn’t be on time before we moved; now, it is next to impossible. Nevertheless, we made it and I am so glad we did. If you are not familiar with Covenant Christian Church, Dr. Rodney Gilmore is the pastor. He is an amazing preacher and teacher, and yesterday he devoted the service to all of the mommies in the congregation.  Instead of trying to act as if he totally understood what being a mother is like, he instead read something that “said it better than [he] could.” It was written from a mom’s perspective to her daughter, who had mentioned to the mother that she was interested in starting a family.  The mom was trying to decide how to explain to her daughter exactly what comes with motherhood.  It isn’t just that sleeping late and free weekends are things of the past, but that a mother’s entire perspective on the world changes after children.  I thought it was well written and it made me think of how my perspective has changed since my kids were born.

 Poop.  I can honestly say that I never thought that in my adult life I would be so comfortable talking about poop in my everyday conversation like I have been since my kids were born.  I joke that I haven’t eaten a meal in almost four years that I didn’t have to take a break to go change a poop or wipe a bottom.  Mothering isn’t for the faint of heart and I am a pro now. My mom will cringe and think I have lost any amount of dainty ladylike qualities I ever possibly possessed when she reads this, but I can change a stinky diaper while eating dinner and never miss a beat! (Trust me, that description could have been tons grosser.) Somehow, when it is your own child, it isn’t that bad. That doesn’t mean I don’t think poop and puke are gross, but a mother can totally ignore all gross bodily functions for her kids well being and comfort.   In my four years of mothering experience, I have had more conversations about spit up and poop consistency than any non mother ever would think of. Sometimes I laugh when I hear myself trying to explain to someone what a diaper I was concerned about looked like. No one cares but me! I get tickled looking at Facebook.  I can spot a good mother from a mile away. I have read more potty related status updates than I can count.  They are always written by an ecstatic mommy who is happy her baby is progressing, reaching milestones.  Non-parents probably hide these offenders from their Wall; other mothers chime in with advice and congratulations.  I used to call my son’s daycare to get a bottom update—almost daily! That is nuts! Ryder battled with extreme cases of diaper rash as a baby, and it would send me over the edge. I would obsess with cream and paste and powder and would regularly send notes with explanations of how to properly apply them to his bottom, like they didn’t know how to put powder on a baby’s butt. I would call daily and say “I am just calling to check on Ryder’s bottom.” That is extreme parenting! One time I was actually relieved when my daycare called to tell me there had been a small fire at the school.  I had seen the caller ID and was frantic his bottom was hurting from diaper rash. Seriously, I know it is crazy, but the thought of him hurting or feeling pain would send me into a tailspin. I have logged numerous hours worrying over this type of thing, and I am comfortable with all gross aspects of parenthood, more than comfortable. I don’t even notice it anymore.  No one could have ever made me understand just how gross parenthood is and how things like poop, puke and applying diaper rash cream become fodder for normal everyday conversations.

Another perspective I truly could not appreciate before children was the worrying mothers do over even the most common childhood sicknesses, let alone major illnesses.  Anyone who knows me knows my kids have had their fair share of ear infections.  That is something else I have become so familiar with since I became a mother.  When I found out I was pregnant, I was scared to tell my mom. She didn’t have a track record for being very excited about the announcement of future grandchildren.  When I would casually mention kids, she would tell me to wait or that I didn’t know what I would be getting myself into.  I totally get that now, but only now, after I became a mother. I don’t think it can be explained adequately to a potential mom BEFORE she has kids.  One thing never explained to me was the stress of childhood illness, and I am not even talking about any serious sickness. Heaven only knows mothers who deal with major or life threatening illness must be completely crazy! I don’t know how they cope. For me, I never knew my kids would have to go to the doctor so much.  That isn’t really something you budget for when thinking of expanding a family. I honestly think that when my kids eventually (hopefully) outgrow all of this childhood sickness stuff, we will feel like we are earning a second income! I spend a ridiculous amount of money on doctor’s visits (not to mention at the pharmacy).  I may win an award for the amount of times I walk through the door.  But I don’t care. I will give every last extra cent I have to take Sawyer to the doctor for that random ear recheck if I even remotely suspect it might make a difference in the way he feels.  I have even resorted to buying my own otoscope so I can check his ears daily myself. I think I missed my calling. I can spot an ear infection and make sure our tubes are okay from a mile away.  I seriously would consider being an ENT if I had my career to do over again.  I now realize that they, whoever they are, don’t call us Dr. Mom for no reason.  A mother’s instincts are amazing when it comes to protecting a child.  I have sensed so many illnesses and infections before they happened. I have a throw up plan that runs as smoothly and efficiently as a military operation.  Because Ryder has always had a runny nose that makes him cough and choke until he throws up, I have experienced my fair share of cleaning up puke (see, we are back to puke).  If I even sense that Ryder is going to be sick, or if he gets sick with a virus, I can engage in Operation Throw Up before Shaun can even realize what has happened. I will strip sheets, place a Chucks pad on his mattress, cover it with a flat sheet, drape an extra sheet over the floor, set extra Chucks, folded sheets and pjs out and get a throw up bucket under his face faster than you can believe.  I never knew I had such a talent for taking care of sick babies.  Staying up all night and losing sleep is no major loss though when it means that I can oversee the comfort of my kids so they can sleep well. It is what a mother does without even thinking about it. It cannot be explained.

Motherhood also causes paranoia.  This paranoia has recently been most notable in my fear of tornadoes. Prior to having babies, I didn’t think much at all about storms. Now, I am obsessed.  On days when tornadoes are likely, I pack my storm bag for the boys. The last major storm we had I went to my parents’ house with my bag, which included a football helmet for Ryder, bicycle helmet for Sawyer, baby Bjorn carrier so that Sawyer wouldn’t be ripped away from me in the hypothetical tornado, Ryder’s kid harness so I would be able to hold on to him if need be and a change of clothes for the boys.  My sister in law even commented to my mom about it and asked when I became so scared of storms. I thought that was so funny. I guess I didn’t realize how I looked to others or that I was all of the sudden asking about storms more than I used to. I didn’t even really classify myself as being scared, just aware.  Before kids, when sirens would go off in the middle of the night, I wouldn’t even always wake up. Now, I force everyone to take cover in the bathtub at the first sight of James Spann. When I think about it, I realize that I became this way after Ryder was born. I can remember that first storm post baby when I thought “Oh my gosh, I have to protect him.” It is so funny how all of the sudden, as a mom, I analyze every danger in a way I never would have before.  Everything is now a death trap to my precious babies,--a perspective on parenting no one ever explained before my kids were born (though my mom said she did try).  

I love my boys. I swear I am not that crazy either, despite how the above blog screams the opposite about me!  After church Sunday, I just thought about what Brother Rodney read and thought how true it was. How my life post-kids could never have been adequately explained to a pre-kid version of myself.  I protect and care for my babies without even knowing it and things I do now and things that are normal for me now are not the things I ever thought of before having children.  But my new norm is wonderful. My life is blessed and I am so grateful to the experience I have had as a mother, even when they drive me nuts and make me paranoid. 

The Magic of the Markers

Have you ever seen Leave it to Beaver, the black and white fifties based sitcom that portrays the wholesome Cleaver family? The show stars Ward, the bread winning father; June, the beautiful and domestic housewife; Wally, the seemingly cool yet sometimes awkward teenager; and “the Beave,” the mischievous and curious little brother. While on the air, this great American fictional family served as a role model for the typical American family to emulate. The show endorsed upright moral principles, loving yet firm parenting skills, and promoted happy, healthy marriages, but times have changed in the forty nine years since the show went off the air. The majority of today’s families are either divorced or consist of single parents, and many children seem to rule the roost with cocky attitudes. However, despite these changes, my family, the Markers, have managed to stay more traditional. I come from a “Cleaveresque” type family; my parents, Mike and Cathy, have been married for forty three years and are more in love today than when they met. While I was growing up, my father worked and provided for my family, while my mother stayed at home to take care of me and my two older brothers. Like the Cleavers, they parented with love and instilled moral values in each of us. They were fair, yet firm when we were children, and have served as the model around which I have molded my adult life. This is not to say, however, that my family is perfect. Though the family dynamics and moral aspects of my childhood may have resembled that of black and white wholesome television, there were some distinct difference between June and Ward and Mike and Cathy. Personality wise, my parents are unique. 

My father is an exceptional man. As a little girl in pigtails, I remember thinking that he was the smartest man I had ever met. Twenty five years later, I still believe that to be true. There is hardly a trivia question he cannot answer, and he is filled to the brim with intriguing, miscellaneous information. He works as a professor at a four year university where he imparts knowledge to others for a living. Do not, however, confuse his studiousness with dullness. He has a one of a kind personality, and it only seems to flourish with time.

Unlike Ward Cleaver, my father does not simply come home from work expecting to find peace and quiet by reading the paper, watching the news, and smoking cigars. My father has personality, and it is that personality that makes him so enjoyable. He is known in my family for his distinct and often hilarious qualities. One is buying in bulk. My father will buy anything in bulk, the more the better. Some of his favorite items to buy in bulk are clothes, especially if they are on sale. One year for Christmas, I received four pairs of overalls, all exactly alike in different colors. A few years later he bought me, my mother, and my sister-in-laws matching candy pink leather jackets (it was bad, I must admit). He decided that since the jackets were on sale and were such a good deal that he would go back to the store to get us the purple and green jackets, purchasing a total of nine altogether (really bad). A few years ago he decided it was time for a new car. He bought three cars in the span of about a month, two just alike. A few years later he purchased my brother’s car when the lease was up, and though he already had two trucks, he later completed his “car lot” with one more truck. That is a grand total of five vehicles. Did I mention my mom doesn’t drive, only him. These are just a few of the items that my father enjoys buying in multiples. It is also only one small aspect that makes him so unique and fun.

Another endearing quality that I love about my father is his love for everything western. Most men go through a mid life crisis when they get older and feel the need to buy a sports car. Not my father; instead, he turned into John Wayne. About five years ago to my mother’s dismay, he converted my old bedroom into a “cowboy room” after I moved out and he became proficient at twirling cap guns (a skill he is teaching my oldest son). He was even known to check the mail in his athletic shorts, western hat, cowboy boots, and gun holster. I think this love for cap guns and cowboys actually comes from his childhood memories of watching westerns on black and white television. And as Cleaveresque as my father may be, I hardly believe that Ward would ever buy a woman’s fashion belt simply because the color of the leather matched his gun holster.

These funny quirks are just the tip of the iceberg. My father is like a one man paparazzi, taking so many pictures that my family automatically poses when he walks in the room in anticipation of the picture that is sure to follow. His picture taking has even resulted in some family squabbles (Christmas Gate 08—but that is an entirely different story!) He has been known to buy candy bars and hide them in my mother’s dishes and even in empty Oat Bran cereal boxes so that others will not eat them. He has the gift of gab and can go on for hours about pretty much any subject, and he enjoys more than anything spending quality time with those he loves. This love is most evident when he is around his children. Despite the fact that I am thirty, have been married for eight years, supported by my husband and have a wonderful job, my father still feels the need to help me financially. He only recently stopped balancing my checkbook (make fun, that’s fine) and still will deposit money into my bank account or give me spending money occasionally. He gives freely to my brothers and our children as well. In fact, he would be a lot richer if he would stop giving all of us his paycheck! We try to convince him this is not necessary, but he does it out of love, not necessity. It is these qualities, along with so many very funny other ones, that make my father such a sweet, loving role model.

My mother is also filled with personality and compassion. I have always hoped to be as caring a mother to my children as she has always been to me. Like June Cleaver, she is an excellent homemaker, and although growing up my mother didn’t vacuum in pearls and heels, she did always have dinner on the table for my family when we arrived home from school each day. Unlike June Cleaver, her decision to stay at home with her family was not simply based on the notion that a woman’s place was in the home. Her role as stay at home mom was the result of an unfortunate eye disease known as retinitis pigmentosa (RP). At the age of thirty two, she began suffering from this genetic disease and has had to learn to cope with narrowing vision while also raising a family. Although she is not completely blind, she is very limited visually, cannot drive, and must be helped when navigating unfamiliar territories. Like June, her attitude is always cheery. She never complains about the often hilarious mishaps she finds herself in due to her RP. In fact, my family loves to get a chuckle from them. When I was younger, she hung a coat over a lady’s head because she could not see her sitting in the chair for which she was aiming. Another time she enthusiastically hugged a maintenance man that she mistook for my husband. At a restaurant, she once forced a lady, whom she thought was her friend, into giving up her box of leftovers only to later spot her actual friend standing in a completely different location. On another occasion, she stood in line at what she thought was the Wal-Mart customer service desk for forty-five minutes only to discover she had mistakenly been standing behind a life-size blow-up of Shrek. She has been known to show up in public wearing mismatched shoes or two different earrings. Despite how disheartening all of these things may sound, and trust me, these are simply a few of the funny stories she has to tell, she still manages to laugh at every funny story and take it in stride.

My mother’s determination and perseverance is like none other. Her outlook on life is always positive and I enjoy all of the time I have ever spent with her. As a teenager, I was excited to start driving so that my mother and I could go shopping by ourselves. Now that I am older, she helps me with my boys, and I confide to her my hopes and dreams and even hang out with her on the weekends. We usually end up laughing so hard when we are together that I swear I almost pee my pants! She is a great Nana, even if sometimes she puts a diaper on backwards or can’t find which end is up on the baby! She is the ultimate mom and friend, though not the type of parental friend that allows a child to run wild. Her abilities are amazing. She manages to keep an orderly house, provide multiple laughs for my family, and maintain loving friendships with her children, all while having fun doing it! She truly is a role model for moms that could give June Cleaver a run for her money. 

June and Ward Cleaver made television history by portraying the “ideal” family. Their contribution to TV history portrayed wholesome moral values, family togetherness, and perfect parenting skills. Based on what the Cleavers stood for, my family is about as close to “perfect” as one could hope for. Obviously, nuclear families do not necessarily equal happy families, and no family is perfect, including mine. My family, like all others, is susceptible to conflicts and clashes, and unlike the Cleavers, not every disagreement in my house can be solved within a timely thirty minutes. Nonetheless, I was lucky enough to grow up in a home where fights were few and far between and love was expressed openly. I can only hope that one day my precious boys will think back to their home life with the same fondness that I feel for mine.

My Daily Dose of Joy

In my classes at JSU, my students compose a personal essay about their personal beliefs.  These essays, based on the essays that have been written and read aloud for years on the NPR This I Believe radio program, must contain a personal belief, a narrative and a positive outlook.  They are not intended to persuade others to feel the way the author feels; instead, they are simply a vehicle to share one's personal belief with the world.  If you know me, you know one of my strongest beliefs is the importance of breastfeeding. (Jennifer Foster would say it is "my thing.") So, here is my This I Believe personal essay.  I hope you enjoy (and, if it persuades you to breastfeed, I won't lie, that will make me happy!)

Mica Mecham,
Mother to Ryder (3yrs) and Sawyer (11 months)

            Three years ago, my life changed when I became a mother. Although I was awestruck and completely in love with my son, I suffered from postpartum depression.  I cried over stains on baby clothes, obsessed about baby spit-up, worried endlessly about organizing baby paraphernalia and acted, well, nuts.  I knew I was depressed, yet did not know how to fix it. I am type A, like to be in control and want things to go as planned. So I found it unlikely that the one aspect of motherhood that somehow seemed so natural to me, even soothed me, was breastfeeding—an act that required OCD me to be unsure of exactly how many ounces baby was drinking, required me to struggle through days when I couldn’t figure out why baby wasn’t nursing well, required me to simply rely on my God given instincts.  I only nursed my first born for six months. I returned to work and struggled with pumping and eventually, my OCD personality overtook my joy of nursing, and I decided to use formula to alleviate the stress of having to supply X ounces of breast milk for baby daily.

With the birth of my second son, I decided to breastfeed again. This time, however, I was changed.  The three years in between my children’s births molded me into a more relaxed person. I regained my sense of self and overcame all feelings of postpartum. I entered into my second round of motherhood with zero depression, only elation.  I loved mothering, even the stains on the shirts and the baby gear cluttering my home.  And, as I did the first time, I loved nursing.  I can think of no greater feeling than being able to provide this small, sweet, helpless baby with exactly what God intended for him.  I still have to battle days when nursing doesn’t go smoothly, but I know eventually all will be right again.  I also recently returned to work.  This time, however, I am not stressing.  I pump and take it one day, or bottle, at a time, and when I do start to feel the old OCD me creeping up, I look at my sweet baby and remember why I love nursing; I also look at my rambunctious three year old and wish I had been more diligent for him.

My goal is simply to nurse for an extended amount of time. I hope to encourage other new mothers to give nursing a fighting chance, not to give up when it seems too hard, to take those difficult moments and realize they will eventually turn into easier ones, ones where a sweet, milky-mouthed baby gazes lovingly at his mother while he casually nurses.  So, this I believe, nursing is powerful; it is nourishing, both physically and mentally for both mommy and baby; it is a selfless act that provides baby with a healthy start and mommy with a sense of accomplishment; it is my daily dose of joy. 

Mommies Don't Get Naps...

The last few days Sawyer has not been feeling too well. He woke about every two hours last night and was extremely irritable all day yesterday. Top that off with the fact that Ryder took a late nap yesterday and was ready to go until at least 11:30 last night. He kept popping up in my room and climbing in my bed. I kept having to get up to remove him. By the time I went to bed, I was tired--getting up with Sawyer did not help. So this morning I would have loved to have slept in. Didn't happen. But what did happen was that my mom came over at about 12 and sweetly offered for me to go take a long nap. I haven't taken a daytime nap in who remembers when! Naps--I remember naps--The thought sounded wonderful.

One of my friends at school and I joke about our naps (her real ones and my fantasized ones) with a funny name she came up with. Let's say she is planning on an afternoon nap on a Friday; that is a FAN. If it is Thursday, it is the TAN (get it). So today I was going to take a SAN.

Oh, but remember, the title of this is blog: Mommies Don't Get Naps.

So I hurried and cleaned the kitchen up (I am totally OCD and cannot sleep knowing crumbs are in the floor) and planned to head to my room. Then, Sawyer stunk up the room. I literally thought our toilet had flooded. SO, off I went to change him! Once I struggled to hold him down and diaper him, I handed him off to mom to rock. In the mean time, Ryder came into the room to tell me how clean he was. "Okay?" I said. (This never means anything good). He then had me follow him to his room to show me the spilled Yoohoo, which he had covered up with his rug. He also saw a smushed Oreo and yelled "EWE...DOO DOO!") I cleaned this mess up and situated Ryder in the den to watch Caillou. At that point, I decided to put Sawyer's ear drops in while he was asleep. This woke him up slightly, and I waited for him to settle so I could transfer him to the crib for mom. Then mother went to the den with Ryder. I made sure they were okay, then climbed into my bed! "How awesome," I thought. It took about 5 seconds after I closed my eyes for mom to yell "Are you in bed?" "Yes," I said flatly. I knew where this was going. "Ryder messed up the TV." So I climbed out of bed, headed into the den and fixed the TV. At this point, Ryder figured out I was doing something without him. He followed me to my room and said he would take a nap with me. Sure. Okay.

We snuggled in the bed and got comfortable. That lasted about .4 seconds. He then spotted my computer and wanted to play a game. "No!" I told him. He does not like being told no. He argued and whined and I finally told him bluntly that he did not always get everything he wanted. At this he huffed and crossed his arms and proclaimed "You are mean mommy. You are not my Frand!" I said "Fine--get out of my bed." This made him cry. The nap was not going well.

I eventually compromised and sent him into the den with my iPad to watch whatever it was he wanted to watch and off he ran. I settled down, got in that place where you are almost asleep but still kind of awake, and then realized I hadn't heard mom say anything to Ryder when I sent him to the den. I listened and heard nothing. I pictured Ry wandering around outside close to the road. I couldn't sleep until I checked on them. I drug myself out of bed and walked to the den. Mom was asleep on the couch and Ry was quietly beside her (she was dozing, not sound asleep). "Good!" I thought. But then Ry saw me. He followed me back to bed, and we started all over again. I tried to simply ignore him. He poked my head, pulled my hair, raised my eyelids. At one point, he twisted my head towards him, and I thought was going to kiss me. Instead he licked me all down my face...I could have done without that. Mom was trying to get him to come back to the den or to go in his room to take a nap. Not a chance. Again, he tired of messing with me and left. "Finally!" I thought. It was at about this precise moment that Sawyer cried out in the monitor. I sat up as Ryder ran down the hall trailing my mom to check on him. He caught me looking and popped his head back into my room.

"Mommy? You waking up from you nap to play with me?" "Yep," I replied. "My nap is over." After all, mommies don't get naps.

(It should be noted that at this point, Shaun graciously took Ry outside to play so I could have a minute. But by this time, I was no longer sleepy)

So, do you get to take naps?

Working Moms...

As I was driving the boys to daycare this morning, Ryder saw a dog on the side of the road. This must have sparked some sort of thought process that, to adults does not necessarily make any real sense, but to an almost four year old is perfectly logical; thus ensued the following conversation:

Ryder: Mom, see that white doggy?

Me: Yes.

Ryder: The Bible says we want a white dog.

Me: Really? You mean to have as a pet?

Ryder: Yeah, the Bible wants us to have a white doggy.

Me: Oh, okay. Who else is in the Bible?

Ryder: Jesus (in his Ryder –gruff-lisp-type of voice; actually it was more of Thesus). And hers a baby.

Me: You mean He; Jesus is a boy, like you and Sawyer. What do we know about Jesus?

Ryder: That he died and grows big and long (Don’t worry; I am not sure what this means either!).

Me: Okay. Jesus was big and strong too. And He died for you. Did you know that?

Ryder: Yeah. And we don’t eat Jesus (Thesus) either. That would be yucky…

Me: No, we don’t eat Jesus---!?!

This little 3 minute conversation made me laugh, as Ryder usually does. I really thought about it and decided I needed to be writing down all of Ryder’s antics (if you know him or our stories, you may know how much he really can get into!) So I decided I would start a blog about our family, mostly as a way to record our funny moments for the future, but it may also serve as entertainment as well.

I then dropped Ryder off at daycare (Sawyer too but he is much more low key, that one), and because Sawyer is YET AGAIN all stuffed up, I felt bad about having to leave him, even though I do love my daycare (ECA in the Bluff—shout out!). It then made me think of a segment on Dr. Laura’s radio show (yes, I listen to her on my way home from work. I admit it). Dr. Laura is quite the personality. Some of her views I agree with, though her snarky way of talking to listeners sometimes detracts from her good guidance, but she has other tidbits of advice (or orders) that she gives listeners that makes me seriously wonder how the listeners don’t call her an expletive and hang up on her!

Anyway, so the other day, she read this article about the world’s oldest physician (Dr. Leila Denmark) who died at the age of 114. She was a pediatrician and did not stop practicing until she was 103 (WHAT?!). Apparently, Dr. Denmark was a firm believer that children today were (are) much sicker than when she began practicing in 1928. She strongly argued (Denmark, not Dr. Laura, but hold on, I am making the con nection) that it was mainly due to mothers being basically brainwashed into thinking they needed to get jobs instead of staying home and raising a family, which in turn resulted in the need for daycare, the cesspool that spawns childhood illnesses for so many kids. This excerpt, from The Telegraph, is what Dr. Laura read:

Her no-nonsense approach to child-rearing gained a wider audience through her 1971 book Every Child Should Have a Chance, and through Dr Denmark Said It, a compilation of her pearls of wisdom by Madia Bowman. Some of her advice was controversial. While she believed women should have the same opportunities as men in the workplace, she argued that they should not contract out child care to others. “Women have been brainwashed into believing don’t mess around with a child, let someone else do it and go out and be lawyers, teachers, preachers, anything,” she said. “And we’ve never had more sick children than we have today.”

Staying at home and rearing children she regarded as “the most important work on Earth”. Meanwhile, babies should be put on a consistent schedule of feeding and sleeping; and after they are weaned, they should not be given anything to drink but water — no milk, no fruit juice. Dummies, she said, were “dirty things” — “a mother who gives one to a child isn’t caring for that child, she just wants to shut him up”. (The Telegraph).

This is why Dr. Laura included this: because she herself is a HUGE supporter of moms staying home to raise babies instead of working, which is a fabulous thing, I agree; however, we cannot all stay home. (BTW, have you been to the grocery store lately?! Ridiculous. We need money to eat.) Dr. Laura used this information as further proof that moms should, if at all possible, stay home to raise the family. I have heard her many times tell callers, specifically women who are seeking advice about what to do about being tired after coming home from work and having to deal with children, possibly also dealing with a husband who wants “me time,” to stop working. When the female caller protests, Dr. Laura basically berates her for not being willing to “sacrifice” for her family (meaning giving up material things and her job to be able to raise said child instead of “have someone else raise the baby” as Dr. Laura would put it). Dr. Laura is unforgiving in her views and will tell callers (I actually heard her say this yesterday) “cut from somewhere so you can be a SAHM.” When the caller says she can’t cut anywhere else, Dr. Laura basically tells her to try harder and sacrifice. To me, this implies then that I, a working mom, am not willing to sacrifice for my kids because I am not willing to stop working to stay home. In a sense, she is right. I am not willing to sacrifice, but geez, she makes it sound like mothers who work when they could possibly make it on just the husband’s salary, though meager as it may be, are selfish and have no right to complain about being tired or stressed because it is their own fault.

She also thinks daycare equals a mom not raising her own child. Now, I have a HUGE problem with this. My kids are in daycare, as are many other kids, and I find it offensive to think I am not raising my own kids. I actually, however, am not trying to argue the validity of her point. I just find it crazy that somehow, these working moms always end up agreeing with Dr. Laura, saying “wow. Yep. You are right.” WTH? Are you kidding? It is the callers’ responses that boggle my mind. (And does anyone else think it is ironic that this information is coming from two CAREER WOMEN?) Maybe I am selfish because I cannot, rather do not, want to give up my job. I love our house and the wonderful things (cliché, but this word encompasses all—toys, gifts, food, toiletries, clothes, diapers, etc) my paycheck gives to my family when added to Shaun’s.

Well, maybe this blog entry ended up being a bit more loaded than I meant for it to be—sorry. I guess I will not be calling Dr. Laura anytime soon for advice either (though I will probably still listen). She would surely make me want to punch somebody in the face! But if you haven’t ever listened to her (Sirius Stars 107) then give her a try. See how she makes you feel and let me know! If nothing else, it may be good fodder for a future blog entry.

"Dr. Leila Denmark." The Telegraph. 6 Apr. 2012. Web. 19 Apr. 2012