The last few months have been quite difficult, primarily due to the severe reflux plaguing our youngest son. Today was one of those days when life was just crazy. So, I pondered the question, "Is it too late to rethink this whole large family thing?"
I sent a text with that question to my sweet sister and a dear friend, both of whom I knew would enjoy my twisted humor. The texts read,
"Is it 2 late 2 rethink the whole large family thing? I am going to LOSE. MY. MIND!!! Ahhhh. Try'n 2 do school & NOBODY. IS. LISTENING. Either the baby needs 2 eat or a diaper change or the toddler needs 2 sit on the potty or she missed and we have a mess 2 clean up or somebody is fighting or b'n rude. Ahhhh!!"
The reply was, of course, that it is most definitely WAY too late to rethink this whole thing. I'm committed. Or maybe I should be committed. Regardless, I am committed to finishing the race God has set before me. Sometimes I can't see the great cloud of witnesses through the piles of laundry, dust bunnies, and waves of spit up flowing down my shirt, but I know they are cheering me on because the Bible tells me so.
Days like today, so full of futility and frustration, are why I have chosen Galatians 6:9 as my life verse. The Marchauna Revised version says, "And do not grow weary in parenting, for in due time you will reap a harvest (of grown, well-adjusted, contributing members of society) if you do not lose heart." The key words are, "do not lose heart." I experienced great frustration today, but by God's grace and because of the love of two dear people, I did not lose heart. Maybe they are part of that great cloud of witnesses described in Hebrews.
It is most definitely too late to rethink this whole large family thing. But, the more I think about it, now that my large family is all quiet, asleep in their beds, I wouldn't trade my life for anything. It isn't an easy life, but it is my life and I really do love it, most of the time.
Wednesday, June 01, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
A Day in the Life
I have decided to start chronicling my life, since it is so crazy sometimes I don't even belief what has gone on!
Today, along with the normal craziness that comes from having eight children between fifteen and new (you know; tears, tantrums, kids fighting with kids, kids fighting with mom, mom trying not to fight with anyone), my two year old stuck a bead up her nose! We didn't know it was a bead, of course, until it came out. But, that explains why it hurt to push on her nostril and why all the regular tricks didn't work.
We returned home to find things fairly quiet and our infant taking a bottle from a very capable big sister. After taking four ounces, he was still hungry, so his sister gave him another bottle. Having consumed a total of about five ounces, my sweet little boy became a volcano, spitting most of what he'd eaten all over the floor. My husband and daughter barely missed a formula shower, though my husband, who doesn't handle puke well, didn't enjoy his front row seat.
Things are quieter now; the baby seems none the worse for wear after his ordeal. The toddler has recovered from her trauma (though she is not real happy with the doctor), and everyone else is downstairs watching television while they fold clothes. I'm getting ready for my weekly escape (my husband gives me a few kid-free hours to gain strength for the week to come), and dinner is already in the slow cooker. So, things are definitely settling down, for today.
Today, along with the normal craziness that comes from having eight children between fifteen and new (you know; tears, tantrums, kids fighting with kids, kids fighting with mom, mom trying not to fight with anyone), my two year old stuck a bead up her nose! We didn't know it was a bead, of course, until it came out. But, that explains why it hurt to push on her nostril and why all the regular tricks didn't work.
We returned home to find things fairly quiet and our infant taking a bottle from a very capable big sister. After taking four ounces, he was still hungry, so his sister gave him another bottle. Having consumed a total of about five ounces, my sweet little boy became a volcano, spitting most of what he'd eaten all over the floor. My husband and daughter barely missed a formula shower, though my husband, who doesn't handle puke well, didn't enjoy his front row seat.
Things are quieter now; the baby seems none the worse for wear after his ordeal. The toddler has recovered from her trauma (though she is not real happy with the doctor), and everyone else is downstairs watching television while they fold clothes. I'm getting ready for my weekly escape (my husband gives me a few kid-free hours to gain strength for the week to come), and dinner is already in the slow cooker. So, things are definitely settling down, for today.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Reflux
I have joined the ranks of mothers wrestling with a baby who has reflux. This is my eighth baby, so it actually took a while longer to recognize the problems and get some help. You'd think it would be the opposite! But, I know babies spit up. And I know babies cry. So when my new son was doing both in excess, I just figured he was a little fussier and spittier than others. Until it went on for seven weeks.
Honestly, I felt silly taking my otherwise healthy son to the doctor because he cried so much. So I called one of my best friends (who is a PA-C) to see if it was crazy to see the doctor. She said no, not at all. So, we went to see the doctor.
The doctor, an older gentleman with grandkids, prescribed a medication that has some success helping with colic, ordered an upper G.I., and told me I needed to get two hours away from my son's crying every day. I couldn't take care of any of my children if I was completely spent from the anxiety and stress of not being able to soothe my little guy.
The test showed a normal anatomy, so my son projectile spitting wasn't a result of pyloric stenosis. It also showed severe reflux. I now had a reason for my son's constant crying, especially in his swing or car seat! But, I didn't have any answers.
We have been a quite a journey. After the diagnosis of reflux, our doctor gave us a stronger protien pump inhibitor, which has been helpful. I also began scouring the internet for information. Unfortunately, my search was not initially successful or encouraging. A variety of perspectives and thoughts, at times conflicting, gave me a sense of discouragement. It seemed that allergies are often a cause of reflux, so I wanted to try an elimination diet, but how long should I eliminate foods? The answers weren't forthcoming.
When my son started chocking and not breathing, I called my doctor back again. He sent us to a pediatric gastroenterologist. That didn't give me much more information, though the specialist did schedule a gastric emptying test and give me a sample of hypoallergenic formula to try, to see if the problem was an allergy to breast milk.
It wasn't until I found http://www.pollywogbaby.com/ that I started getting answers, and some hope. We don't know yet if this problem is simply gastro-esophogeal reflux (GER) or gastro-esophogeal reflux disease (GERD), but the information on the pollywog site has been tremendously helpful. The site has a store with products designed to treat the causes of reflux, not simply the symptoms, and has links to other sites where you can learn about elmination diets (even a plan for an elimination diet, with basic instructions), read articles by moms who have survived caring for children with GER and GERD, and just find hope. If you are struggling with reflux in a little one, please do yourself and your family a favor and check out http://www.pollywogbaby.com/!
Honestly, I felt silly taking my otherwise healthy son to the doctor because he cried so much. So I called one of my best friends (who is a PA-C) to see if it was crazy to see the doctor. She said no, not at all. So, we went to see the doctor.
The doctor, an older gentleman with grandkids, prescribed a medication that has some success helping with colic, ordered an upper G.I., and told me I needed to get two hours away from my son's crying every day. I couldn't take care of any of my children if I was completely spent from the anxiety and stress of not being able to soothe my little guy.
The test showed a normal anatomy, so my son projectile spitting wasn't a result of pyloric stenosis. It also showed severe reflux. I now had a reason for my son's constant crying, especially in his swing or car seat! But, I didn't have any answers.
We have been a quite a journey. After the diagnosis of reflux, our doctor gave us a stronger protien pump inhibitor, which has been helpful. I also began scouring the internet for information. Unfortunately, my search was not initially successful or encouraging. A variety of perspectives and thoughts, at times conflicting, gave me a sense of discouragement. It seemed that allergies are often a cause of reflux, so I wanted to try an elimination diet, but how long should I eliminate foods? The answers weren't forthcoming.
When my son started chocking and not breathing, I called my doctor back again. He sent us to a pediatric gastroenterologist. That didn't give me much more information, though the specialist did schedule a gastric emptying test and give me a sample of hypoallergenic formula to try, to see if the problem was an allergy to breast milk.
It wasn't until I found http://www.pollywogbaby.com/ that I started getting answers, and some hope. We don't know yet if this problem is simply gastro-esophogeal reflux (GER) or gastro-esophogeal reflux disease (GERD), but the information on the pollywog site has been tremendously helpful. The site has a store with products designed to treat the causes of reflux, not simply the symptoms, and has links to other sites where you can learn about elmination diets (even a plan for an elimination diet, with basic instructions), read articles by moms who have survived caring for children with GER and GERD, and just find hope. If you are struggling with reflux in a little one, please do yourself and your family a favor and check out http://www.pollywogbaby.com/!
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Calgon....
I may be showing my age, but I remember Calgon commericals. After showing a crazy situation featuring an overworked and overwhelmed mom, the mom would look at the camera and say, "Calgon, take me away." Suddenly, this overworked and overwhelmed mom would find herself in a bathtub full of bubbles (Calgon bubbles) in an oasis of peace and quiet. So, my joke, when life is a little crazy, is to look at my husband and say something about Calgon.
Well, today really is a Calgon day!!
When I got home, I discovered that we still don't have water, but I'd forgotten to store water, so we don't have any water for things like washing hands, or rinsing dishes, or refilling humidifiers to help sick kids breath easier. This really is a Calgon day!!
I wonder if I volunteered to make a commercial if the people at Calgon would whisk me away to a deserted bathroom lit by candles with a tub filled with warm water and bubbles. Probably not, but just imaging the setting has me feeling better already.
Well, today really is a Calgon day!!
- Our water is off, for the second day, as a crew of guys works to connect us with the city sewer system.
- Three of my eight children were running fevers of 102+ through the night.
- We awoke to the sound of jackhammers.
- A kid dumped water down the sink (after the pipes had been cut) and flooded our basement.
- One of my girls broke her finger.
- My seven week old son had an upper GI at a hospital 25 minutes away and he screams in his car seat.
- When I got in the car to buckle him in, I discovered the car seat wasn't buckled in to the car, then I discovered that my two year old's car seat wasn't buckled into the car!
- When we got to the hospital, about 10 minutes after we were supposed to check in, parking was a zoo, and my son was screaming in his car seat. I called to say we were going to be late and found out that we were on the wrong side of the hospital complex.
- By the time we actually got in to where we were supposed to be, we were 20 minutes late for the x-ray!
When I got home, I discovered that we still don't have water, but I'd forgotten to store water, so we don't have any water for things like washing hands, or rinsing dishes, or refilling humidifiers to help sick kids breath easier. This really is a Calgon day!!
I wonder if I volunteered to make a commercial if the people at Calgon would whisk me away to a deserted bathroom lit by candles with a tub filled with warm water and bubbles. Probably not, but just imaging the setting has me feeling better already.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Big Boy Toys
Our house was built before the sewer came through our part of town, so we've been operating with a septic system since moving in two and a half years ago. Just over a year ago, we received a letter from the local county health department that we had to connect to the sewer. That process began today.
Because we educate our children at home, we have the privilege of making the most of different opportunities, like when a huge backhoe pulls into your yard and starts digging a 12 foot hole! The mother of a four year old boy, I expected he would be enthralled. What I didn't expect was how my daughters would respond. Three of my daughters lined up on the couch along with my son, captivated by each step of the process of connecting our home to the sewer lines. They watched until the pile of dirt in our front yard obscured their view of the backhoe and workmen. But, they were back at the window again watching as the men returned all the dirt back to its proper location.
I've heard it said that the only difference between men and boys is the price they pay for their toys. I don't know that I completely agree with that perspective, but my little boy (and his big sisters) really like those big toys!
Because we educate our children at home, we have the privilege of making the most of different opportunities, like when a huge backhoe pulls into your yard and starts digging a 12 foot hole! The mother of a four year old boy, I expected he would be enthralled. What I didn't expect was how my daughters would respond. Three of my daughters lined up on the couch along with my son, captivated by each step of the process of connecting our home to the sewer lines. They watched until the pile of dirt in our front yard obscured their view of the backhoe and workmen. But, they were back at the window again watching as the men returned all the dirt back to its proper location.
I've heard it said that the only difference between men and boys is the price they pay for their toys. I don't know that I completely agree with that perspective, but my little boy (and his big sisters) really like those big toys!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)