I finally dropped the hearing aides from hell off at the hearing aide specialist today. Praying the are FINALLY repaired properly upon return and functioning 100%!
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Saturday, March 10, 2012
It's Not if You Win or Lose, It's How You Play the Game
Today Goalieboy is playing one of the last games of the season. It's the second of three games. If they win today they play in the championship game tomorrow for first place. If they lose they play tomorrow for third. In the end, it doesn't matter to me if he wins or loses it's how he plays the game.
Do I want him to win? Of course! But learning how to win or lose with dignity and grace is most important to me.
I want to install positive values. Always play your best. Never give up. Take pride in what you do. Be a good sport. Show good sportsmanship. You never know when you'll meet up with other players and coaches again. Your opponents now may be your teammates later. Leave a positive lasting impression.
Good luck Goalieboy. I'm proud of you no matter what. You're a leader and a positive role model for your team. Hold them up to standards.
Remember....it doesn't matter if you win ir lose, it's how you play the game.
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Giving Thanks
I was sitting at home working with my daughter on her homework before dinner when I got one of those dreaded "middle of the night" type calls. You know the one that instantaneously something is wrong.
Monday's for us are hectic now that school's begun. My daughter has girl scouts right after school and my son has hockey practice at 6:40 (an hour's drive from us). Plus, to top it off I started my first day of work.
Normally, we get my daughter from girl scouts, eat a quick dinner before dropping her off at my parents and heading to the rink. Also, we typically carpool on Monday's with a friend.
This week because I was so tired after my first day of work I decided to stay home to relax, spend time with my daughter and plan things out for the week ahead. My husband decided he was just going to take Goalieboy by himself and skip carpooling. Everything seemed fine, everything went smoothly.
Fifteen, twenty minutes after they left the house my husband called. The car was in a ditch less than 10 minutes from our house. The first thing he told me is, "We're ok but we've been in an accident." I'm grateful that my husband knows me well enough to have started the call with "We're Ok.". I've had too many scary calls from him saying he's been in some kind of accident not prefaced by those words. My mind doesn't compute after "We've been in an accident". Best to tell me the good news up front first.
I just want to let people know a few things. First, slow down! Second, if you miss a turn you can back track. Third, better to be late than dead.
What happened you ask? The driver 2 cars in front of my husband slammed on his breaks to make a last second left hand turn. The road is marked at 55 mph. It's a busy road especially during commute hours. Why there's not a light at this particular spot I'll never know. The road going left is where a few major industries are (warehouses and such) and the town hall. It really needs to be regulated better.
The driver in front of my hubby had to slam on his breaks to avoid the idiot. My husband had to slam on his and swerve to the right. Right into the ditch. Thank goodness the ditch wasn't deep. He swore he felt the car rock and thought it was going to flip. That part had my heart stopping.
The driver of the car in front of him stopped to check if he was ok. He also gave him his business card as a witness. The driver who caused the accident never stopped, never looked back.
I'm so thankful my husband and son are ok. It reaffirms to them....no speeding, no following too closely, no texting, sitting properly (my son) and no distractions. None of these things were occurring at the time of the accident. It could have been so much worse if just one of these things had been going on. I'm thanking my lucky stars.
A few side notes:
To the towing company: Thank you for responding so promptly and getting the car out of the ditch.
To the officer who came along: While we are grateful you stopped to check and hang out until the car was pulled out, we don't appreciate you commenting several times about my husband's sniffling and runny nose. It's allergy season and he is highly allergic to everything around us all year long. Next time, just demand a drug test or shut up. You made yourself look like an ass. Also, why didn't you take the contact information for our witness? That's mind boggling.
To the insurance company: You're seriously going to tell us if there's over $2000 worth of damage our rates our going to go up? We didn't cause the accident. This is beyond ridiculous and we'll be starting to shop for a better carrier.
However, thinking positively and looking on the bright side, I am thankful no one was physically hurt. Things can change tragically in the blink of an eye. I'm so glad my life and the lives of those I love dearly are unscathed.
Monday's for us are hectic now that school's begun. My daughter has girl scouts right after school and my son has hockey practice at 6:40 (an hour's drive from us). Plus, to top it off I started my first day of work.
Normally, we get my daughter from girl scouts, eat a quick dinner before dropping her off at my parents and heading to the rink. Also, we typically carpool on Monday's with a friend.
This week because I was so tired after my first day of work I decided to stay home to relax, spend time with my daughter and plan things out for the week ahead. My husband decided he was just going to take Goalieboy by himself and skip carpooling. Everything seemed fine, everything went smoothly.
Fifteen, twenty minutes after they left the house my husband called. The car was in a ditch less than 10 minutes from our house. The first thing he told me is, "We're ok but we've been in an accident." I'm grateful that my husband knows me well enough to have started the call with "We're Ok.". I've had too many scary calls from him saying he's been in some kind of accident not prefaced by those words. My mind doesn't compute after "We've been in an accident". Best to tell me the good news up front first.
I just want to let people know a few things. First, slow down! Second, if you miss a turn you can back track. Third, better to be late than dead.
What happened you ask? The driver 2 cars in front of my husband slammed on his breaks to make a last second left hand turn. The road is marked at 55 mph. It's a busy road especially during commute hours. Why there's not a light at this particular spot I'll never know. The road going left is where a few major industries are (warehouses and such) and the town hall. It really needs to be regulated better.
The driver in front of my hubby had to slam on his breaks to avoid the idiot. My husband had to slam on his and swerve to the right. Right into the ditch. Thank goodness the ditch wasn't deep. He swore he felt the car rock and thought it was going to flip. That part had my heart stopping.
The driver of the car in front of him stopped to check if he was ok. He also gave him his business card as a witness. The driver who caused the accident never stopped, never looked back.
I'm so thankful my husband and son are ok. It reaffirms to them....no speeding, no following too closely, no texting, sitting properly (my son) and no distractions. None of these things were occurring at the time of the accident. It could have been so much worse if just one of these things had been going on. I'm thanking my lucky stars.
A few side notes:
To the towing company: Thank you for responding so promptly and getting the car out of the ditch.
To the officer who came along: While we are grateful you stopped to check and hang out until the car was pulled out, we don't appreciate you commenting several times about my husband's sniffling and runny nose. It's allergy season and he is highly allergic to everything around us all year long. Next time, just demand a drug test or shut up. You made yourself look like an ass. Also, why didn't you take the contact information for our witness? That's mind boggling.
To the insurance company: You're seriously going to tell us if there's over $2000 worth of damage our rates our going to go up? We didn't cause the accident. This is beyond ridiculous and we'll be starting to shop for a better carrier.
However, thinking positively and looking on the bright side, I am thankful no one was physically hurt. Things can change tragically in the blink of an eye. I'm so glad my life and the lives of those I love dearly are unscathed.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Here's to a Good Year
The school year has started here with a few minor speed bumps. Just a week and a half before school started Irene hit. Lots of flooding throughout the area. The rain would clear up for a day or two just to come back with a vengeance. School started the way it had ended in June...on a humid, dreary day. A bit disappointing but we met it straight on with positive determination. Two days later, schools around the area were closed due to flooding. It seems Mother Nature has had her panties in a bit of a twist. The weather will be cool one moment, hot and humid the next, followed by rain. Sigh. I just want fall to be cool and crisp without the heat and humidity. We've gotten a tease of it but it's left me begging for more.
Weather news aside, the school year has gone really well so far. I'm almost afraid I'm going to jinx it by feeling so positive. Goalieboy has been right in sync with things with little or no complaint. That's a major accomplishment here. He's very opinionated and full of boy drama. So far, most of it hasn't been over the top.
I thought we would have some issues with him wearing his new (purple!) hearing aids to school but amazingly that has been a non issue. He seems more comfortable and confident with them. I think the timing was right getting them right after school was over in June. He was always self conscience of his old one (he only had a single loaner one for three months). I think he's really embraced them. They are really helping him in so many ways. I'm amazed that I rarely have to remind him in the mornings to put them on. The only issues we seem to have is the tug of war after he's taken them off because he's been playing outside. At that point, I think he's just done with them for the day. I think what works best for us is just keeping a routine then he knows what's expected.
School is going (dare I say) great so far. He likes most of his classmates and his teachers. He's in a co-teaching model classroom. Before this year it was called a collaborative class. For those unfamiliar with this (these didn't exist when I was in school) concept: It's a classroom with two teachers. One is regular ed(ucation) and the other is special ed. The class they teach is a mix of regular kids and kids with IEP (Individual Education Plans). Most of the IEP children have always been in the general ed setting while a few are graduated into it from the special education classroom. It's great in theory and potentially fantastic with the right mix of teachers and kids.
Third grade is the first grade it is offered to children in our school if there are enough students (and teachers) to make up a class. It didn't go that well for us last year. The class was big (26 students) and chaotic. The teachers didn't teach as well together as I had heard they had done in years past. Nothing seemed to mesh and it was frustrating for everyone. It just didn't work and Goalieboy suffered from it.
This year seems to be a different case. As I observed the two teachers during last weeks open house I was very impressed. They appear to work well together and have good chemistry.
I'm excited to say, Goalieboy seems engaged in class. I can ask him several hours after pickup about his day and he can give me clear details. Last year, it was mainly the dreaded, "I don't remember." response. Last night, during dinner, he regaled me about what he was learning in social studies. He was giving me names of states, oceans and lakes. His teachers are reaching him! What a wonderful thing. I'm so excited!
His teachers seem to really care about their students. Today I emailed them after school (which I've never done before) because Goalieboy had a meltdown over a math worksheet. He knew how to do the work and didn't get why he needed to show it a certain way. I put out the fire the best I could by telling him to do it his way and I would ask the teachers about it. One of his teachers called me at 6 pm because she didn't want him upset over it. She said she read the words homework and meltdown and felt she had to call me right away. She didn't want him upset over this. We cleared up the issue (which was nothing major, which I figured). We also discussed a few things such as, sometimes he will take a quiz/do a worksheet and not fully comprehend what a question is asking. He'll get it partly wrong because he didn't answer it completely. When I reviewed a few papers with him he instantly knew what the correct answers were. So, his one teacher will be discussing this with the Special Ed teacher to see what we can do to make sure he is fully understanding what the question is asking. I'm in awe. I think we're on the same page. It's frustrating for him to get something wrong that he knows but is not answering it right because he doesn't understand the question. Hopefully we can come up with a workable solution.
We've agreed to set up a face to face meeting in a few weeks and review how he's doing. I have a good feeling about this year. I think it has potential to be a year where he progresses to where he needs to be. I'm excited and filled with hope.
Weather news aside, the school year has gone really well so far. I'm almost afraid I'm going to jinx it by feeling so positive. Goalieboy has been right in sync with things with little or no complaint. That's a major accomplishment here. He's very opinionated and full of boy drama. So far, most of it hasn't been over the top.
I thought we would have some issues with him wearing his new (purple!) hearing aids to school but amazingly that has been a non issue. He seems more comfortable and confident with them. I think the timing was right getting them right after school was over in June. He was always self conscience of his old one (he only had a single loaner one for three months). I think he's really embraced them. They are really helping him in so many ways. I'm amazed that I rarely have to remind him in the mornings to put them on. The only issues we seem to have is the tug of war after he's taken them off because he's been playing outside. At that point, I think he's just done with them for the day. I think what works best for us is just keeping a routine then he knows what's expected.
School is going (dare I say) great so far. He likes most of his classmates and his teachers. He's in a co-teaching model classroom. Before this year it was called a collaborative class. For those unfamiliar with this (these didn't exist when I was in school) concept: It's a classroom with two teachers. One is regular ed(ucation) and the other is special ed. The class they teach is a mix of regular kids and kids with IEP (Individual Education Plans). Most of the IEP children have always been in the general ed setting while a few are graduated into it from the special education classroom. It's great in theory and potentially fantastic with the right mix of teachers and kids.
Third grade is the first grade it is offered to children in our school if there are enough students (and teachers) to make up a class. It didn't go that well for us last year. The class was big (26 students) and chaotic. The teachers didn't teach as well together as I had heard they had done in years past. Nothing seemed to mesh and it was frustrating for everyone. It just didn't work and Goalieboy suffered from it.
This year seems to be a different case. As I observed the two teachers during last weeks open house I was very impressed. They appear to work well together and have good chemistry.
I'm excited to say, Goalieboy seems engaged in class. I can ask him several hours after pickup about his day and he can give me clear details. Last year, it was mainly the dreaded, "I don't remember." response. Last night, during dinner, he regaled me about what he was learning in social studies. He was giving me names of states, oceans and lakes. His teachers are reaching him! What a wonderful thing. I'm so excited!
His teachers seem to really care about their students. Today I emailed them after school (which I've never done before) because Goalieboy had a meltdown over a math worksheet. He knew how to do the work and didn't get why he needed to show it a certain way. I put out the fire the best I could by telling him to do it his way and I would ask the teachers about it. One of his teachers called me at 6 pm because she didn't want him upset over it. She said she read the words homework and meltdown and felt she had to call me right away. She didn't want him upset over this. We cleared up the issue (which was nothing major, which I figured). We also discussed a few things such as, sometimes he will take a quiz/do a worksheet and not fully comprehend what a question is asking. He'll get it partly wrong because he didn't answer it completely. When I reviewed a few papers with him he instantly knew what the correct answers were. So, his one teacher will be discussing this with the Special Ed teacher to see what we can do to make sure he is fully understanding what the question is asking. I'm in awe. I think we're on the same page. It's frustrating for him to get something wrong that he knows but is not answering it right because he doesn't understand the question. Hopefully we can come up with a workable solution.
We've agreed to set up a face to face meeting in a few weeks and review how he's doing. I have a good feeling about this year. I think it has potential to be a year where he progresses to where he needs to be. I'm excited and filled with hope.
Monday, July 25, 2011
To My Son
My son turned 9 on July 23rd. I can't believe how quickly he is growing up. I stand by ready to help him when he stumbles and support him when needs it. I answer his many questions and offer advice. He is very independent. He is stubborn (just like both his parents) and believes he knows everything and is always right. I find it endearing and annoying all at once. It scares me that adolescences is right around the corner. I will always be there for him to lean on and will help him up when he falls. It's inevitable as it's part of growing up. He'll never have to do it alone because I will be by his side all the way.
On my other blog Juggling Act Called Life I wrote this post about his birth story...
I sit here thinking back to 9 years ago when my oldest was born. It was such an amazing day. I was both nervous and scared to be bring a new life into the world. I hoped and prayed I would be a good mom. I was terrified of the unknown from birth on. I was so scared about going into labor. The only thing that overrode my fears was the fact that I could not wait to meet the amazing child I had growing inside my body.
I'm still amazed I even willingly got pregnant. I swore I would never have a baby. Not because I didn't like children but because I was terrified of pain, needles and the thought of pushing a baby out of my va-jayjay. I liked kids well enough. I babysat A LOT from the time I was 11 until 16. I figured one day, far down the road I would probably adopt. My husband changed my mind easily. I was eager to create a new life that was part of both of us. I sucked it up and got through all the tests, the needles, the poking, the prodding and exposing myself monthly (then weekly) to doctors. Somehow, even after everything, I'm still modest and hate being check out "down there". Funny I know but that's just me.
I suffered all day morning sickness from the very moment I realized I was pregnant. I got violently ill right before Thanksgiving and I just knew. My husband had to work Thanksgiving morning so I ran to the local CVS to buy a pregnancy test and a card that read Congratulations You're a Father! Thanksgiving dinner was just the two of us because we had no family nearby at the time. It was a disaster because my (first ever) turkey wouldn't cook. So we just ate sides for dinner. I ducked into the bathroom before dessert and took the test. I didn't realize at the time that they work best first thing in the morning but that didn't seem to matter. It showed I was indeed Pregnant!! So, when I came out I served dessert and while we were snuggling on the couch I gave him the card. The shock and joy that crossed his face in those first few seconds said it all. I was nervous and excited. What did I know about being a mom?! Well, there was no looking back. It was time to look forward and plan to welcome new life into the world in nine short months.
Some how I survived morning sickness...lots of wheat thins, triscuts, grapes and baby carrots. I had that damn nausea all day long from the beginning until about a month before he was born. Too bad that isn't the good news it sounds like. Once the morning sickness ended I THEN had constant acid reflux 24/7 until 24 hours AFTER he was born. I still remember begging the labor nurse to tell me that once he was born that it would end and she told me yes. She LIED!! I was so upset at the time I almost cried. I just wanted to eat real food and enjoy it for once in a long time.
On the evening of July 22nd my first contraction hit. He was due on July 24th but if I didn't go into labor by the afternoon of the 23rd my doctor was going to induce me. I had been S-L-O-W-L-Y dilating since the end of June and my cervix was about 90% effaced the week before. My first contraction hit at 10:30 p.m. while I was on the phone talking to my dad and giving him directions to our new place. We had moved an hour away from where we had lived when I had first gotten pregnant. He was driving up the next day...it would be a six hour drive for him. My mom had been staying with us and helping me out for the last three weeks. I am so grateful she was there for me. Five minutes after the first contraction hit the second followed. I quickly hung up the phone, ran to the bathroom and puked my late night dinner.I still remember we were watching that baseball movie with Freddie Prinz Jr and Jessica Beil. Some details are so clear.
After that I called the doctor and we left immediately for the hospital. My mom had a history of quick labors as did her mom. I had forewarned my OB so we were in agreement that I should head out. Since I refused to change doctors after moving we had an hour drive ahead of us. It was my first child and I wanted to go through labor with the doctor I trusted. I was tempting fate. That drive during the daytime could have easily taken two hours or more during rush hour. That route is extremely. I thank God that I went into labor in the late evening hours. I fear I would've made the news otherwise by giving birth in the car on the freeway.
We made it to the hospital by 11:45. My normally calm husband was a bit tense because my contractions were strong, steady and getting closer together. I'd say he was a bit freaked out. I had sworn I wouldn't ask for a wheelchair when I got the hospital but man did those contractions change my mind really quick. There was no way I was going to be able to walk to the elevator or anything! Wheelchair it was!
My doctor took FOREVER to get there. Meanwhile I was settled into a birthing room. The doctor on duty finally came in to check me around 12:20/12:30. At that point she announced I was 9 1/2 centimeters dilated and (her words) bulging! The only thing keeping him is was the fact that somehow my water had yet to break. All I know is I had been fighting the urge to push for a while. Not knowing, I just thought I had to poop. I kept worrying I was going to poop on the table. Seriously. Now I understand that the feeling was actually the urge to push the baby out of my body. The doctor said not to push. HA! I tried to be accommodating while thinking she was nuts. I agreed to try. What was I thinking?! I guess my mouse side was showing and I didn't want to call attention to myself. Crazy me. Pregnant women in the middle of hard labor are pretty attention getting.
My mom was there holding my hand as the contractions kept coming. I was so glad she could be there for my first child. My husband and her really helped. I knew my husband wanted to watch the birth so I counted on my mom's support up by my head. He is so fascinated by the whole process. He told me he was glued to it when his first daughter was born. Amazingly he was able to multitask and comfort me while watching the show. He held my other hand, reassuring me with each contraction while taking glimpses of my body giving birth. I'm so glad he got to experience the whole thing again. I didn't want to deny him of that miracle.
Good thing I hadn't opted for drugs of any kind because there wouldn't have been any time. Honestly, the decision to labor drug free was once again my fear of needles. I hate pain but I hate needles more. Go figure. I was worried they would come in to administer the epidural and I'd puke or flinch. Yep, wasn't going to chance it. Not less than two minutes after the doctor left I came to the conclusion (with my mom's help) that the baby was coming and there was no waiting. I needed to push. My body refused to take no for an answer. My mom is not the outspoken type yet she opened that door and demanded the doctor come back because our baby was coming whether she liked it or not.
The doctor listened thank goodness. She rechecked me and broke my water. My doctor made it minutes after that. She barely had time to scrub up and get into position. My son was born two pushes later. It should have been one push but he had a huge head (90th percentile). We welcomed Goalieboy into the world at 12:51 a.m. July 23rd, 2002. He was 7 lbs. 1.8 oz, 20 1/2 inches long. His head was 13 1/4 inches and it ripped me when I pushed him out. It was over so quickly. I felt every stitch of that episiotomy and the shot with the numbing meds was extremely painful on that sensitive swollen area. It hurt almost more than those pushes. Seriously!
Looking back I remember all the feelings rushing at me. I was overwhelmed, happy and terrified scared. I was so nervous about being responsible for this tiny human being. Somehow, I pushed past it all. From the moment of his conception I have loved him. He is my world and I would do anything for him. He may drive me insane more often than not and I may question myself as a parent at times. But that's part of parenting. Parenting has no instruction manual. We learn as we go, by trial and error. I've learned to trust my maternal instinct as they are usually right.
I love my boy. He will always be my baby (even as the oldest). I have no regrets. I don't always make the right decisions and neither does he but we are in it together. I wouldn't change a thing.
*******
We spent his birthday morning looking through his scrapbook together. The pictures and the stories brought the wonderful memories back to my mind clear as day. I cried tears of joy and sadness. I am amazed and overjoyed with the boy my baby has become. I am devastated that I can never actually relive those moments. It breaks my heart but the memory book keeps them fresh and alive. It's so important to capture these moments and write the story around the pictures. Make sure you take every day pictures. Those little moments are just as important as the big ones, maybe even more so. Writing brings the story back clear as day. It's the details that make it shine. I know it's hard for us to make the time for these things. I have literally thousands of pictures I need to get working on. I have everything for my daughter's book and I haven't gotten more than 5 pages completed. After walking down memory lane with his book I'm inspired to finish hers. These are books I will be giving them when they are old enough to care for them. They will know the love I put into them and hopefully cherish them like I do.
On my other blog Juggling Act Called Life I wrote this post about his birth story...
I sit here thinking back to 9 years ago when my oldest was born. It was such an amazing day. I was both nervous and scared to be bring a new life into the world. I hoped and prayed I would be a good mom. I was terrified of the unknown from birth on. I was so scared about going into labor. The only thing that overrode my fears was the fact that I could not wait to meet the amazing child I had growing inside my body.
I'm still amazed I even willingly got pregnant. I swore I would never have a baby. Not because I didn't like children but because I was terrified of pain, needles and the thought of pushing a baby out of my va-jayjay. I liked kids well enough. I babysat A LOT from the time I was 11 until 16. I figured one day, far down the road I would probably adopt. My husband changed my mind easily. I was eager to create a new life that was part of both of us. I sucked it up and got through all the tests, the needles, the poking, the prodding and exposing myself monthly (then weekly) to doctors. Somehow, even after everything, I'm still modest and hate being check out "down there". Funny I know but that's just me.
I suffered all day morning sickness from the very moment I realized I was pregnant. I got violently ill right before Thanksgiving and I just knew. My husband had to work Thanksgiving morning so I ran to the local CVS to buy a pregnancy test and a card that read Congratulations You're a Father! Thanksgiving dinner was just the two of us because we had no family nearby at the time. It was a disaster because my (first ever) turkey wouldn't cook. So we just ate sides for dinner. I ducked into the bathroom before dessert and took the test. I didn't realize at the time that they work best first thing in the morning but that didn't seem to matter. It showed I was indeed Pregnant!! So, when I came out I served dessert and while we were snuggling on the couch I gave him the card. The shock and joy that crossed his face in those first few seconds said it all. I was nervous and excited. What did I know about being a mom?! Well, there was no looking back. It was time to look forward and plan to welcome new life into the world in nine short months.
Some how I survived morning sickness...lots of wheat thins, triscuts, grapes and baby carrots. I had that damn nausea all day long from the beginning until about a month before he was born. Too bad that isn't the good news it sounds like. Once the morning sickness ended I THEN had constant acid reflux 24/7 until 24 hours AFTER he was born. I still remember begging the labor nurse to tell me that once he was born that it would end and she told me yes. She LIED!! I was so upset at the time I almost cried. I just wanted to eat real food and enjoy it for once in a long time.
On the evening of July 22nd my first contraction hit. He was due on July 24th but if I didn't go into labor by the afternoon of the 23rd my doctor was going to induce me. I had been S-L-O-W-L-Y dilating since the end of June and my cervix was about 90% effaced the week before. My first contraction hit at 10:30 p.m. while I was on the phone talking to my dad and giving him directions to our new place. We had moved an hour away from where we had lived when I had first gotten pregnant. He was driving up the next day...it would be a six hour drive for him. My mom had been staying with us and helping me out for the last three weeks. I am so grateful she was there for me. Five minutes after the first contraction hit the second followed. I quickly hung up the phone, ran to the bathroom and puked my late night dinner.I still remember we were watching that baseball movie with Freddie Prinz Jr and Jessica Beil. Some details are so clear.
After that I called the doctor and we left immediately for the hospital. My mom had a history of quick labors as did her mom. I had forewarned my OB so we were in agreement that I should head out. Since I refused to change doctors after moving we had an hour drive ahead of us. It was my first child and I wanted to go through labor with the doctor I trusted. I was tempting fate. That drive during the daytime could have easily taken two hours or more during rush hour. That route is extremely. I thank God that I went into labor in the late evening hours. I fear I would've made the news otherwise by giving birth in the car on the freeway.
We made it to the hospital by 11:45. My normally calm husband was a bit tense because my contractions were strong, steady and getting closer together. I'd say he was a bit freaked out. I had sworn I wouldn't ask for a wheelchair when I got the hospital but man did those contractions change my mind really quick. There was no way I was going to be able to walk to the elevator or anything! Wheelchair it was!
My doctor took FOREVER to get there. Meanwhile I was settled into a birthing room. The doctor on duty finally came in to check me around 12:20/12:30. At that point she announced I was 9 1/2 centimeters dilated and (her words) bulging! The only thing keeping him is was the fact that somehow my water had yet to break. All I know is I had been fighting the urge to push for a while. Not knowing, I just thought I had to poop. I kept worrying I was going to poop on the table. Seriously. Now I understand that the feeling was actually the urge to push the baby out of my body. The doctor said not to push. HA! I tried to be accommodating while thinking she was nuts. I agreed to try. What was I thinking?! I guess my mouse side was showing and I didn't want to call attention to myself. Crazy me. Pregnant women in the middle of hard labor are pretty attention getting.
My mom was there holding my hand as the contractions kept coming. I was so glad she could be there for my first child. My husband and her really helped. I knew my husband wanted to watch the birth so I counted on my mom's support up by my head. He is so fascinated by the whole process. He told me he was glued to it when his first daughter was born. Amazingly he was able to multitask and comfort me while watching the show. He held my other hand, reassuring me with each contraction while taking glimpses of my body giving birth. I'm so glad he got to experience the whole thing again. I didn't want to deny him of that miracle.
Good thing I hadn't opted for drugs of any kind because there wouldn't have been any time. Honestly, the decision to labor drug free was once again my fear of needles. I hate pain but I hate needles more. Go figure. I was worried they would come in to administer the epidural and I'd puke or flinch. Yep, wasn't going to chance it. Not less than two minutes after the doctor left I came to the conclusion (with my mom's help) that the baby was coming and there was no waiting. I needed to push. My body refused to take no for an answer. My mom is not the outspoken type yet she opened that door and demanded the doctor come back because our baby was coming whether she liked it or not.
The doctor listened thank goodness. She rechecked me and broke my water. My doctor made it minutes after that. She barely had time to scrub up and get into position. My son was born two pushes later. It should have been one push but he had a huge head (90th percentile). We welcomed Goalieboy into the world at 12:51 a.m. July 23rd, 2002. He was 7 lbs. 1.8 oz, 20 1/2 inches long. His head was 13 1/4 inches and it ripped me when I pushed him out. It was over so quickly. I felt every stitch of that episiotomy and the shot with the numbing meds was extremely painful on that sensitive swollen area. It hurt almost more than those pushes. Seriously!
Looking back I remember all the feelings rushing at me. I was overwhelmed, happy and terrified scared. I was so nervous about being responsible for this tiny human being. Somehow, I pushed past it all. From the moment of his conception I have loved him. He is my world and I would do anything for him. He may drive me insane more often than not and I may question myself as a parent at times. But that's part of parenting. Parenting has no instruction manual. We learn as we go, by trial and error. I've learned to trust my maternal instinct as they are usually right.
I love my boy. He will always be my baby (even as the oldest). I have no regrets. I don't always make the right decisions and neither does he but we are in it together. I wouldn't change a thing.
*******
We spent his birthday morning looking through his scrapbook together. The pictures and the stories brought the wonderful memories back to my mind clear as day. I cried tears of joy and sadness. I am amazed and overjoyed with the boy my baby has become. I am devastated that I can never actually relive those moments. It breaks my heart but the memory book keeps them fresh and alive. It's so important to capture these moments and write the story around the pictures. Make sure you take every day pictures. Those little moments are just as important as the big ones, maybe even more so. Writing brings the story back clear as day. It's the details that make it shine. I know it's hard for us to make the time for these things. I have literally thousands of pictures I need to get working on. I have everything for my daughter's book and I haven't gotten more than 5 pages completed. After walking down memory lane with his book I'm inspired to finish hers. These are books I will be giving them when they are old enough to care for them. They will know the love I put into them and hopefully cherish them like I do.
Wednesday, June 29, 2011
A scare in the night
It was after midnight. The room was dark and quiet except for the hum of the air conditioner. The bedroom door is closed to keep the cool air in and the warm air out.
A screeching sound breaks the silence. It's the sound of a bedroom door opening and moments later, closing It's a miracle I even hear it. My hubby doesn't even twitch. I lay there listening but don't hear any footsteps. Odd that I even heard the door open.
Whenever I hear a door open I listen intently for the padding of little feet. Most of the time they head to and from the bathroom at the other end of the hall. Occasionally they'll make their way to our bedroom next door. Then I'm needed to soothe bad dreams or upset tummies.
This time, nothing. Silence. Then I hear the door open once again. No bathroom sounds. Weird. The door doesn't click closed.
I always get up to check on the kids after I've heard one of them up at night. It's just my thing. I always like to make sure everything is alright.
Once, I checked in on Goalieboy after a bathroom visit and found him in bed sobbing quietly. He didn't want to wake me up after having a nightmare. He thought daddy would get angry if he was awoken. I laid in bed with him, gently rubbing his back. We made up stories to chase the nightmares away. Eventually I had him laughing and all was well.
I quietly climbed out of bed, so as not to disturb the slumbering bear who had to be awake for work in three hours. I opened the bedroom door and what did I see? Goalieboy standing in his doorway. He looked confused, a bit baffled. He mumbled something I couldn't understand. He looked down and that's when I saw what was in his hands. He was carrying his sneakers in one hand and a baseball hat in the other. I was in shock. I was grateful I had opened the bedroom door to check on him. I took the shoes and hat from his hands and put them away. Then, I carefully manuevered him into bed, pulled the covers over him and kissed him goodnight before quietly leaving the room.
To most, this incident would seem funny. I know I would've wanted to laugh. Problem is, Goalieboy occasionally sleep walks. It's rare and he's never done anything dangerous. This time he scared me to death. All I could think of is what if I hadn't heard him? What if he had gone downstairs and out the door?
It could happen. I use to talk in my sleep, as he does. A few times my parents recall me wandering around our house asleep. The scariest part for me is my mom use to sleep walk. Hers was full blown. She would actually leave the house in the middle of the night as a young girl. She told stories where she had crossed busy streets. The thought of this terrifies me. I'm grateful it hasn't come to that yet. I will now sleep even lighter at night. I'm already very aware because he has nightmares and even night terrors on occasion.
I asked him about it this morning and he remembers nothing. He thought it was funny. He even asked which hat he grabbed. I didn't want to worry him so we joked about it.
Tonight, I won't be sleeping well. Our bedroom door will be partway open. I'm more than willing to let the cool air out so I can hear him. It's going to be a long night. Praying for no repeats.
A screeching sound breaks the silence. It's the sound of a bedroom door opening and moments later, closing It's a miracle I even hear it. My hubby doesn't even twitch. I lay there listening but don't hear any footsteps. Odd that I even heard the door open.
Whenever I hear a door open I listen intently for the padding of little feet. Most of the time they head to and from the bathroom at the other end of the hall. Occasionally they'll make their way to our bedroom next door. Then I'm needed to soothe bad dreams or upset tummies.
This time, nothing. Silence. Then I hear the door open once again. No bathroom sounds. Weird. The door doesn't click closed.
I always get up to check on the kids after I've heard one of them up at night. It's just my thing. I always like to make sure everything is alright.
Once, I checked in on Goalieboy after a bathroom visit and found him in bed sobbing quietly. He didn't want to wake me up after having a nightmare. He thought daddy would get angry if he was awoken. I laid in bed with him, gently rubbing his back. We made up stories to chase the nightmares away. Eventually I had him laughing and all was well.
I quietly climbed out of bed, so as not to disturb the slumbering bear who had to be awake for work in three hours. I opened the bedroom door and what did I see? Goalieboy standing in his doorway. He looked confused, a bit baffled. He mumbled something I couldn't understand. He looked down and that's when I saw what was in his hands. He was carrying his sneakers in one hand and a baseball hat in the other. I was in shock. I was grateful I had opened the bedroom door to check on him. I took the shoes and hat from his hands and put them away. Then, I carefully manuevered him into bed, pulled the covers over him and kissed him goodnight before quietly leaving the room.
To most, this incident would seem funny. I know I would've wanted to laugh. Problem is, Goalieboy occasionally sleep walks. It's rare and he's never done anything dangerous. This time he scared me to death. All I could think of is what if I hadn't heard him? What if he had gone downstairs and out the door?
It could happen. I use to talk in my sleep, as he does. A few times my parents recall me wandering around our house asleep. The scariest part for me is my mom use to sleep walk. Hers was full blown. She would actually leave the house in the middle of the night as a young girl. She told stories where she had crossed busy streets. The thought of this terrifies me. I'm grateful it hasn't come to that yet. I will now sleep even lighter at night. I'm already very aware because he has nightmares and even night terrors on occasion.
I asked him about it this morning and he remembers nothing. He thought it was funny. He even asked which hat he grabbed. I didn't want to worry him so we joked about it.
Tonight, I won't be sleeping well. Our bedroom door will be partway open. I'm more than willing to let the cool air out so I can hear him. It's going to be a long night. Praying for no repeats.
Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.8
Friday, June 17, 2011
In the beginning
I've had several people ask me how we found out Goalieboy had a hearing impairment. This post will be dedicated to sharing how we found out. There's a lot of twists and turns to our saga so I will share those in later posts.
In the beginning...Goalieboy was a cheerful, happy baby. The first few months were rough as we found a routine that worked for us but it wasn't long before he was sleeping 4-6 hours a night and napping 3 hours at a time during the day. He had this belly laugh that was contagious. I really miss that boisterous laugh. We would bring him into restaurants and he would either sleep through our meal or smile and coo at everyone. We constantly got compliments on how sweet and adorable he was. He had the best dispositon.
He was babbling like most babies and said his first word just a little later than the "average" child. He could get across his needs/wants with a simple word or two. I noticed he was a little behind in speech around 2 1/2-3. There were words he would say that only myself or my mom would understand. I didn't notice it as being a problem right away because I was a working mom and we didn't have the time to socialize with other kids. Sad, but true. We also moved a few times when he was younger so we didn't know many of our neighbors. I would occasionally compare his progress to my friend's daughter who was 2 months older. She was the only child we knew around his age.
We put him into preschool when he was 3. We felt he really needed the socialization and since his sister was born the year before he wasn't as happy go lucky as he'd previously been. We knew he needed to learn how to interact with other kids and get along. Overall, the first few months of preschool went well. He made friends and seemed to get along with the other kids.
In January, his school does a mid-year evaluation with parents/caregivers. He was progressing well but the teacher did notice some problems. While he got a long with the other children there were definitely some communication issues. Sometimes he wouldn't understand them or they wouldn't understand him. He would get frustrated and grab what he wanted or get upset. She told me she felt he was having issues with his hearing. She believed also that he was reading her lips when he was having trouble hearing. She said that she noticed if she was too far away when she was speaking to him his eyes would focus on her lips. She got in the habit of kneeling down in front of him and making sure he could see her face. She said there were times when he seemed uncooperative but it was actually because he couldn't hear the instructions or see their mouths to determine what was being said. I had believed there was a problem deep down and this was confirmation that I was right. I had approached my husband with my feelings and he believed everything was fine. So, I kept watching, hoping I was wrong since this was my first child. I've since learned...mother's intuition should always be followed up on because it's right more times than not.
Looking back I'm upset and frustrated that more help wasn't offered or guidance given. I also don't understand why I wasn't told until January.Seriously, I believe I should have been spoken with by mid-November at the latest with their beliefs. I do believe they are good teachers and really helped him to cope. He did grow and thrive during his 2 years there. However, why wasn't it suggested that I seek early intervention? I understand that they might have been leery offering this advice as some parents are not open to it. But, I believe, it's their job to be candid and help guide parents. I knew nothing. I wish I knew then what I know now. I would've gotten him early intervention. He could have had speech therapy earlier. He often drops the "s" on plural words and also word endings, such as "ing", "ed", etc. He will say home instead of house. The school is providing speech and (some) reading help but it's not quality. I wish we could afford help outside the school.
I find it deplorable that parents have to fight for the educational system to help their child. I find it unacceptable that teachers can get in trouble for helping steer parents in the right direction. I have been told on several occassions by teachers that they could get in trouble if the administration found out what they were telling me. I am so thankful that they risked their jobs to help us.
This is the beginning of Goalieboy's journey and how his hearing impairment was discovered. It is only the first step in many of our ongoing battle.
Next journey post will be about his kindergarten screening, speech, finding an ENT and his first tube surgery.
In the beginning...Goalieboy was a cheerful, happy baby. The first few months were rough as we found a routine that worked for us but it wasn't long before he was sleeping 4-6 hours a night and napping 3 hours at a time during the day. He had this belly laugh that was contagious. I really miss that boisterous laugh. We would bring him into restaurants and he would either sleep through our meal or smile and coo at everyone. We constantly got compliments on how sweet and adorable he was. He had the best dispositon.
He was babbling like most babies and said his first word just a little later than the "average" child. He could get across his needs/wants with a simple word or two. I noticed he was a little behind in speech around 2 1/2-3. There were words he would say that only myself or my mom would understand. I didn't notice it as being a problem right away because I was a working mom and we didn't have the time to socialize with other kids. Sad, but true. We also moved a few times when he was younger so we didn't know many of our neighbors. I would occasionally compare his progress to my friend's daughter who was 2 months older. She was the only child we knew around his age.
We put him into preschool when he was 3. We felt he really needed the socialization and since his sister was born the year before he wasn't as happy go lucky as he'd previously been. We knew he needed to learn how to interact with other kids and get along. Overall, the first few months of preschool went well. He made friends and seemed to get along with the other kids.
In January, his school does a mid-year evaluation with parents/caregivers. He was progressing well but the teacher did notice some problems. While he got a long with the other children there were definitely some communication issues. Sometimes he wouldn't understand them or they wouldn't understand him. He would get frustrated and grab what he wanted or get upset. She told me she felt he was having issues with his hearing. She believed also that he was reading her lips when he was having trouble hearing. She said that she noticed if she was too far away when she was speaking to him his eyes would focus on her lips. She got in the habit of kneeling down in front of him and making sure he could see her face. She said there were times when he seemed uncooperative but it was actually because he couldn't hear the instructions or see their mouths to determine what was being said. I had believed there was a problem deep down and this was confirmation that I was right. I had approached my husband with my feelings and he believed everything was fine. So, I kept watching, hoping I was wrong since this was my first child. I've since learned...mother's intuition should always be followed up on because it's right more times than not.
Looking back I'm upset and frustrated that more help wasn't offered or guidance given. I also don't understand why I wasn't told until January.Seriously, I believe I should have been spoken with by mid-November at the latest with their beliefs. I do believe they are good teachers and really helped him to cope. He did grow and thrive during his 2 years there. However, why wasn't it suggested that I seek early intervention? I understand that they might have been leery offering this advice as some parents are not open to it. But, I believe, it's their job to be candid and help guide parents. I knew nothing. I wish I knew then what I know now. I would've gotten him early intervention. He could have had speech therapy earlier. He often drops the "s" on plural words and also word endings, such as "ing", "ed", etc. He will say home instead of house. The school is providing speech and (some) reading help but it's not quality. I wish we could afford help outside the school.
I find it deplorable that parents have to fight for the educational system to help their child. I find it unacceptable that teachers can get in trouble for helping steer parents in the right direction. I have been told on several occassions by teachers that they could get in trouble if the administration found out what they were telling me. I am so thankful that they risked their jobs to help us.
This is the beginning of Goalieboy's journey and how his hearing impairment was discovered. It is only the first step in many of our ongoing battle.
Next journey post will be about his kindergarten screening, speech, finding an ENT and his first tube surgery.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)