Rookie Run 2012

I exercise to feel stronger and healthier and to set an example for my boys.  I hope they will just always be active and not have to struggle with weight or body image, etc.  Dave has lost a lot of weight and is exercising also - setting a great example for them!

At the mini marathon expo there was a place to register your kiddos for the Rookie Run. For a small fee they got a race bib, t-shirt, and a sweat band, and then upon completion of the "race" they got a medal. They both think my medal is pretty neat so I figured that, for a medal, they would do it. Seth went back and forth about doing it but finally decided it would be fun. His cousin was doing it too and for a few months they are the same age so they were able to start together and I think that was a pretty big selling point too.

The race was short.  A block or so for the older kids and a little less for Luke's age.  I wouldn't even call it "organized" chaos - mostly just chaos.  All of the 4 year olds lined up, with a parent, and then they would just take a handful of them at a time, warm them up, tell them go, and then they ran.  Luke did go on his own, where some of the parents were having to run with other 4 year olds.  And they did have them pinned in and you had to have a little tear off piece of their bib to prove they belonged to you before you could take them away, so that was a little organized I guess. 

All in all, the boys had a great time and Seth can't wait to do it again next year!  Luke might feel the same way but he doesn't express himself in quite the same manner. 

And here are some pictures to recap the day:

My smallest guy was too young to race, but not too young to sport some fine sunglasses!

Luke, running in his sweatband and race t.  He meant business!

So proud of his medal, and tiny bottle of water.

Seth's turn - getting his game face on. 

 Seth racing.  He was SO funny.  I was telling him what an awesome job he did when he finished and he said, "Uh, mom, I stopped and walked a bit."  Uh, Seth, so do I!  He knows that I don't ever dream of racing to win, just to finish, and I hope that helped him not feel bad about walking a bit.

My boys and their cousin, with their medals.  That's a fine looking group of finishers!

It was a dark and stormy night...

[Okay, not really, but it's been so long since I blogged regularly that I thought I might need to lure some of you back to read this...]
It was actually just a normal Sunday night, preceded by a beautiful and above average temperatured Saturday.  A Saturday during which I enjoyed a long walk with a good friend and came home to find my little boys "helping" my hubby clean the garage, mostly by drawing with sidewalk chalk and blowing bubbles.  Saturday evening we went out to dinner with family.  Napless Luke is always a bit of a handful so he was extremely rowdy and I was horrified, but attempting to be calm.  It was just pizza, right?  Not a 5 star restaurant.  Saturday night we gave him some Benadryl after listening to him cough for awhile in bed.  Anytime Luke plays outside during the day, Benadryl is a bedtime companion.  I asked the doctor about this, coupled with the fact that I think he sounds really short of breath sometimes when he plays really hard outside, but she told me that as long as he recovers quickly it probably just means he needs to be more active.  I understand what she meant, but it made me laugh a little to hear her suggest Luke needs to be more active. 

Fast forward to Sunday morning.  We dropped the boys in their classrooms at church, then Dave and I attended the first service and went on to our classes that we teach for second service.  Partway through that service I got paged by the children's department to "please come."  This is not the first time I have been paged like this and I will confess that I was praying for a very minor injury or perhaps just that Max really needed his mommy.  No such luck.  At the end of my 'walk of shame' was Luke and his teacher, waiting for me in the hallway.  She explained that he would not sit where/when instructed, was defiant, and finally started kicking at people.  Oh, lovely.  Now, I'll take him back to teach the 1st graders that other  parents have entrusted to me.  Clearly they have no clue what a bang up job I'm doing with my own child!  But he just seemed off.  I couldn't really explain it.  [And I'm NOT doubting that he did all of those things that he was dismissed from class for doing, nor am I excusing his behavior.]  But, he didn't want me to pick him up.  He seemed to really just want to be left alone - which is NOT like Lukey at all. 

He got to hang out with Dave and his class until church was over.  Then we headed home, had lunch, and got everyone settled down to rest.  Except that Luke would not settle down.  Dave tried laying down with him but even that didn't encourage sleep.  I wasn't really too surprised as the more tired Luke is, the harder it is for him to fall asleep. 

Then at dinner he was goofing around (or so mother of the year) thought and making strange wheezing noises when he would cough.  I think I even yelled at him for it at one point.  Allergy moms do not see humor in wheezing noises.

We finally got everyone settled in bed and finally sat down ourselves when I heard Luke open his bedroom door.  It's very loud when it opens, which is good because he spends a lot of time trying to escape.  Dave got up first and went to check on him.  He had already had Benadryl but was still coughing.  I heard Dave asking him if he was okay so I went to join them.  He was sitting at the top of the stairs and I could hear him wheezing down at the bottom of the stairs.  NOT good.  Having had a nearly $400 ear infection (and not the best service at that) last year because I jumped the gun and ran to the ER (what am I, a novice?), Luke and I set up camp on the couch where I could console, love, listen, find stuffed monkey and his little pillow, and generally be awake most of the night worrying.

So, Monday morning (March 26th) Lukey got to visit with one of his very favorite people in all the world - his pediatrician. I am SO thankful for her and her patience with Luke.  He loves to chat up all the people who work in the office and answer all of their questions for me.  The doctor came in, listened to him breathe, and said, "Wow, he's really wheezing."  Boo.  Bummer.  Enter a nurse with a nebulizer and our first ever breathing treatment. 

 He got to spend a week doing breathing treatments every 4 hours and taking a steroid.  Her diagnosis was 'seasonal allergy induced asthma.'  Ick. I didn't really even think to ask what this means long term.  Luke was busy with her stethoscope, trying to listen to HER breathe, and I was trying not to lose my mind begging him to stop poking on the doctor. 

He was a champ about the treatments and the meds. I even mentioned to someone that he was sleeping all night long since he had the treatments - no waking up crying, no showing up at my side of the bed at 4:30, etc.

Fast forward to this last Sunday night - exactly 2 weeks off meds.  Wheezing.  An offer by us, and initial refusal by him, of a breathing treatment with a little boy begging just to go back to sleep (even though he got up on his own and had come all the way downstairs).  An attempt to give Benadryl which ended with the stuffed monkey taking more Benadryl

We continued breathing treatments all day Monday and Tuesday.  By Tuesday afternoon he was done and so was I.  Crummy sleep for all Sunday night and Monday night, plus more and more coughing.  I made an appointment for Wednesday morning for him to visit, again, with his pediatrician.

There we got the diagnosis that didn't surprise me but kind of disappointed me.  Asthma.  She said it's tough to diagnose the first time because one of its characteristics is recurrence.  However, a second visit in three weeks seemed to seal the deal.  She also said the waking up at night is indicative, as is the coughing more after playing outside.  So, this week we are back to oral steroids, the nebulizer and the first medicine, and now a second.  The second will continue indefinitely - twice a day.  So, "have breathing machine, will travel" seems to be the new motto.  I feel a bit like I should sign him and his epi pen and breathing machine up for boy scouts - he's always prepared! 

Finally, he was really wired when he started on the breathing treatments a few weeks ago.  His doctor apologized warned me that this might be an issue.  After the second or third one there was a clip on the television about one of the dancing shows and he was enthusiastically convincing me to try out the moves they were doing.  Thankfully the jittery super hyper [must dance] post-treatment behavior subsided.  However, now that we are mixing two meds, he is back to uncontrollable crazy.  Our bedroom is a decent size and from there you walk into the master bath and on into the walk in closet.  It's a long straight shot.  I was putting on makeup and fixing my hair this morning and every once in awhile he would just jet past me from one end of the bedroom to the other end of the closet.  I'm hoping this subsides soon.  I'm also hoping for a good night's sleep that lasts longer than 5 hours (for me) sometime soon!

True Story...

I have a meeting for Seth's school tonight.  Dave worked all day and then went to the gym on the way home.  We will pretty much be passing each other at the door.  I've been working finishing up a couple of little projects this afternoon.  So, dinner becomes a hodge podge of, unfortunately, junk - more or less. 

So, my conversation with Luke went like this...

Me:  Luke, do you want chicken sticks or a corn dog for dinner.
Luke:  Light orange.  [Seriously, that was the answer and I have NO idea to what question!]
Me:  That's not an answer to chicken sticks or corn dog.  You have to choose one or the other.
Luke:  One or the other.

ugh

Some days are easier than others...

I know I have a great "job."  I know there are many many people who envy me (well, not me, but stay at home moms in general).  I have three sweet and wonderful boys; a husband who works hard so that I can be at home with these awesome little people; a house to live in; food to eat (even if I HATE the grocery store); and on and on.  But, some days are just better than others.  Yesterday fell into the 'not so hot' category...

It started like any other day.  Got up, got the older two boys up, got their breakfast, supervised tooth brushing and dressing, got shoes on, and sent Seth off to school via the Daddy school bus.  Luke watched some television while I mopped the kitchen floor and cleaned a few other things.  Then I got myself ready.  Next up, I cleaned out some of Luke's clothes that are too small and put them in a tote.  Finally, I got Max up and fed and dressed, and eventually we headed out to pick up Seth at school.

Dave had called and said gasoline prices were going up (he'd driven by two different gas stations, one with prices about a quarter higher), so to fill up if I needed to and could still find cheaper gas on my way to get Seth.  The cheaper station was on my way to get Seth so we swung by their and it had already gone up.  Knew I could find another on the way home so we went on to school and got Seth.

Drove by another gas station, already the higher prices.  Drove by a third - they were all basically on my way so I wasn't really insanely driving the gas out of my car to save a couple of dollars.  My third and final option had the cheaper gas.  And most of the southside was there filling up on gas.  I pulled right up to the pump and got my gasoline.  No problem.  It was leaving that caused a small problem.  There was a lady that really wanted my pump.  But she blocked me in.  So, I sat.  This was no big deal - she finally moved.  But, Luke's observations were hysterical.  He said, "Oooh, she's grumpy."  I asked why he thought that and he said, "Her mouth is gruuuuuuuuuuumpy!"  And he was right - she had the biggest scowl.  But, it was funny to hear a 3 year old calling her out.  (well, not to her face, as that would've been rude and not amusing)

So, we head home.  This is how returning home from picking Seth up goes:  Every. Single. Day.  I pull into the garage.  Seth is in a booster seat, using a regular seat belt so he can just unstrap and jump out.  Luke is in a carseat and needs help unlatching it - there's a lever on the side, etc.  So, Seth jumps out of his seat and Luke puts his feet up to block Seth so that Seth can't get out first.  Seth breaks through while Luke kicks and screams.  Seth runs to the back of the car and checks to be sure the van is in far enough to close the garage door.  Luke folds his arms across his chest and pouts (making it nearly impossible for me to unbuckle him), because HE wants to check that the car is in far enough.  Every. Single. Day.

This day, after above scenario played out, we headed inside and the boys started playing.  I think Seth and Luke really miss each other all morning and they are currently obsessed with the bigger lego blocks so they immediately started building.  And then they both wanted one particular block, which there are probably 20 of, but the other 19 would not do.  Then there was fighting and screaming and crying.  I don't know who had the block first.  Nor do I care as the blocks are plentiful.  But, Luke (yes, the younger one) came after Seth (yes, the older one) and sent Seth into an [I'm tired because I've been at school learning and playing all morning] tailspin during which Seth announced that he would like for Luke to be sold at a garage sale.  Ugh.

I threw together some lunch, clinging to the hope that everyone would just eat and then go rest peacefully.  I was noticing that the earlier mopped kitchen floor was still not clean so I wanted to mop again but there are no doors to close everyone out of the the kitchen so I can't do it when everyone is up, especially not Max.  So, I got the boys their lunch.  Luke had his head down on the table part of the time and I let myself get all excited about how he was going to take a great nap.  Max always naps and Seth plays (semi) quietly in my bedroom, so I was looking forward to some quiet mopping time.  How pitiful is that that I was looking forward to mopping time? 

Anyway, I got everyone settled into bed and it became apparent that Luke, who chose to go to bed in only his t-shirt and underwear, was not going to sleep.  And that's okay, but we are really working on Luke staying in his room quietly for awhile.  It's a good break for all of us and he can be in his room looking at books or playing quietly with cars.  Luke just isn't good at staying in his room.  I had to stop mopping/tidying multiple times to get him back into his room.  Finally, I could hear him (there's a monitor in their room) talking and playing.  I was so glad he had finally settled down and was staying put in his room.

Then I heard his door open.  I went to the stairs and saw him standing at the top of the stairs.  My view looking up from the bottom of the stairs?  Luke.  In a t-shirt and underwear.  Slathered in shiny oil.  Looking like a well-greased three year old body builder.  Holding the bottle of Vitamin E oil.  Giving me his sheepish grin and a little, "I got some on me."  Uh, ya think?  I told him to march back into his room.  Then it occurred to me that he was going to get everything in his path greasy.  I quickly ran up the stairs to his room and told him to stand still.  That's when I noticed he had pulled the tote of clothes over to his dresser and stood on the tote to get the basket of band-aids and first aid supplies.  He opened maybe 25 band-aids (checking out the pictures, I assume).  There were at least that many more unopened all over the floor.  I grabbed baby wipes and started wiping his legs - only to discover that it was doing absolutely nothing except sliding down his leg.  Bathtime!  I ushered him to the bathroom and got him undressed.  I didn't think to take a picture until then and it wasn't appropriate so we skipped it.  I bathed him and put him in my room with Seth, turned the television on and instructed the two of them NOT to move.

Next, I went down and googled how to get the oil out of the carpet.  Dishwashing liquid was mentioned repeatedly so I grabbed a plastic cup, some Dawn, hot water, and an old towel.  I was down on my hands and needs scrubbing the oil out of the carpet when his little face appeared in the doorway.  He looked at me and very sweetly said, "I think I have poop in my underwear."  WHAT?!? 

Back to the bathroom to clean up again. 

Back to the bedroom to finish scrubbing the carpet. 

Next up was Seth's I-don't-want-your-help-with-my-homework.-I-wan't-Daddy-instead rant.  Oh goodness.  He's five.  It's kindergarten.  It's writing his name four times.  What will this scene look like when it's algebra?

We made it through dinner and Seth was in an oddly agreeable mood for that.  Thanked me for making dinner and raved about how great it was.  He even told Luke that Luke was missing out by not eating it.  It was meatloaf.  Bizarre.

I was excited that it was my scheduled walking night.  I'm a stress eater and the donut holes and I had had a rough afternoon.  See above.  We decided to do our usual - Gretch picks mom up, they drive to my house, we all walk mom a couple of miles back to her apartment, and then Gretch and I walk back to my house - usually through some neighborhoods, etc. 

Gretch came in the door and said it was National Chocolate Day and we should just go for coffee.  I have really been wanting another Salted Caramel Mocha since I tried it last week and the idea didn't sound half bad!  I think we all wanted to, but no one wanted to be the one to opt for high calorie drinks rather than exercise.  So, we set out for our walk.  It seemed really dark.  Darker than usual.  Maybe just because it's getting darker earlier and it used to be a little light when we started.  But last night it was not light at all.  My neighborhood was fine.  Next we have to walk on a main road.  There's a little stretch with no sidewalk and I forgot my tiny flashlight.  No big deal.  We got over to the part with the sidewalk just fine.  The sidewalk is pretty far off the road so the traffic isn't a problem.  But there are not many lights on the main road.  Actually, when I drive home that way I often think about how dark it is and how crazy we must look. 

We were not far down the road when a car drove by and honked.  We get a lot of that.  Usually rusty old beat up clunker cars whose drivers must have nothing better to do than annoy people who are out exercising.  But, this horn sounded odd and when it drove by it was a police car.  And not a beeping horn but more of the siren/horn.  We were annoyed that a police officer would honk to annoy us.  And then he started shining his spotlight ahead of us on the side of the road, in the trees, on the sidewalk, etc.  The dark and the police freaked us all out and we took a vote and opted to turn around, avoid the area where he was shining the light, and head back to my house.  We walked 1.25 miles.  Whoo hoo. 

I was so mad that we got scared by a police car.  And a police spotlight.  And then after a little visit in my kitchen, sans coffee, my sister took my mom home, where there were multiple police cars at the entrance to my parents' apartment.  So, it's back to the indoors and the treadmill for us!  My parents move starts this week so we are hoping their new neighborhood might be better lit and more suitable for walking. 

All that to say, some days are just easier than others!

Baby steps...

Max's:
Schwoo, my sweet little bug has decided that walking might be fun.  It's still that run-forward-until-you-fall-on-your-face/I'm-new-at-this/I-didn't-even-know-I-could-do-this kind of walking, but yesterday he made it to 5 or 6 steps in a row, and did it many times.  And, he was standing himself up, on his own, in the middle of the room just to try it out again.  I think it's official!  Why the 'schwoo' you ask?  NOT because I thought he had issues because he's 14 months old and just didn't seem to care.  BUT, because I am leaving the boys in David's very capable hands for a couple of days and I was just sure he would pick then to walk.  You see, Seth was 16 months old when he started walking, and he waited until I left town for 5 days for a work conference to do it.  I sat patiently waiting for 16 months to see those first steps and missed them.  When Luke came along and I was able to quit my job, I thought, 'Great, now I'll never miss another first!'  And then it looked like I was going to.  So, thank you Max for doing this Monday, rather than Thursday! 

[Quirky side note that pretty much no one will likely care about:  Seth walked at 16 months, Luke at 12, and Max at 14.  Max's birth weight was also exactly between Seth and Luke's and during my pregnancy with Max the weight I gained was right between the weight I gained with Seth and Luke.]

Mine:

Luke went to VBS last week.  Luke is only 3 [and never had occasion to go to daycare] so this was the first time Luke has been left "alone," without me or another family member on the premises.  We don't have babysitters - just Grammy and Grampy, and sometimes Aunt G and Uncle Matt.  So, for me to drop him off and walk away was a new experience for me.  Leaving my child at church for VBS would have been fine, but leaving my allergy child at church to eat a snack during VBS was a whole different ballgame.  There were many e-mails exchanged, a visit to the kitchen to check the labels on all the snacks, a trip to the grocery store to find substitutions for any food he couldn't eat, a batch of cupcakes made to replicate the ones the other kids were eating, and (finally and most importantly to me) a phone call with another allergy mom who was going to be on site and assured me she would look after him and have an epipen on her (he also had an epipen on the premises).  Sweet Luke didn't know about much of the planning that went into.  He just knew that he was having a fantastic time and learning a lot too.  I'm glad I let him do it.  And really glad the week went off without a hitch! 

I'm a plantin' me an apple tree...

If there's any truth to that whole "apple a day" thing, I might prefer to nurture a tree rather than load these three up and be confined to an exam room!  [Let me say though that I adore their pediatrician - that is NOT the issue.] Last Thursday they all had doctor appointments. When I made Max's 12 month appointment (at his 9 month check-up, while Seth was in school), I also asked if I could just bring Seth for his 5 year at the same time.  It made sense.  Because I often don't make sense. Only having to load them up once and get them there on time once seemed like a great plan.  In my head I also recall thinking, Luke will be 3 months older, he'll be better able to handle this excitement.  Or, perhaps, I could find someone to pass him off to for the morning?  Then, as the date approached for the two check-ups, Luke developed some symptoms that I deemed worthy of being seen by the doctor (since we were going to be there anyway), and suddenly you have a package deal.

Thankfully (?) the appointments were early and Dave didn't have anything too early so he was home to help me get everyone ready.  This trip required a bag change - from baby diaper bag to three kid backpack filled with soft books to occupy the time spent crammed into the tiny room.  So, thanks to Dave, we got there on time.  [He did go to work, not with us.]  Upon entry to the office the older two boys immediately headed off for the germ infested toys.  I'm not a huge germophobe, but it IS a doctor's office.  Does it get much ickier germier than that?  I headed to the counter to check in the boys and Max snuggled into me so as to not have anyone else in the world ever touch him.

The wait wasn't too bad and soon we were called back. They sent me and Max to an exam room with a nurse (or medical assistant, not sure, but we'll call them nurses because it's shorter to type than medical assistant).  I wasn't really so sure about leaving Luke with Seth and a stranger/nurse for fear of them ganging up on her, but it was just for weighing and measuring heighth so I enjoyed my 3 minutes of quiet and odd questions about Max.  I should mention that I always feel like a completely absent parent when they start asking me if the boys can do certain things - is he walking?  Does he drink out of a sippy cup?  Can he say 1 to 3 words?  Does he stand on his head in the corner whistling a tune?  I think I always just answer, "uhhhh, yeah."  Except, of course, that he's not walking and he hates sippy cups (we're on #7) so I had to answer 'no.'  But, never fear, Luke came bursting through the door and attempted to answer every question for me.  "Yep, yep, he does."
Then they took Max to measure him.  I stood beside the table.  He immediately burst into tears and screamed at the top of his lungs.  Then we all went (maybe not Seth?) out to weigh him.  I carried him out, sat him on the scale myself and stood next to him.  This one started out with the pouty lip and progressed quickly to crying.  Oh, sweet Max! 

Then we headed back to the exam room for more questions about the other guys and a discrete discussion of Seth's "immunizations."  I hadn't really prepared him for this and the nurse didn't really tell him that was what was coming either.  I knew it was inevitable, but Seth tends to overreact so waiting until the last minute seemed appropriate this time.

Then the doctor came.  She was there about 2 minutes after the nurses left us.  I'm thinking they went out and mentioned that if she wanted her room to be intact she might want to hurry things along! 

There was one stool in the room (to get to the exam table) and Seth and Luke both wanted to sit on it.  A lot of whining ensued and Luke ended up sitting on the doctor's lap.  She's great with him and he adores her so it worked out.  Except that he wanted to push the buttons on her computer. 

She very simply explained to Seth that he would be getting a few shots because he had to have them for school.  My neice and nephew are also patients and she knows my sister.  She told Seth how brave his cousins were for their shots.  She said it would hurt a little and he could cry if he needed to but that it would be over soon.

Once we finished up with the visit, including all of the questions I had written down on the back of a flyer that came in the mail (wow, I'm so organized), the doctor left, the two nurses came back and Seth got his shots.  He was very brave and I was so proud of him.  Max wasn't quite so brave.  But Max is a bit younger and he doesn't get to go to school in the fall so he couldn't really be reasoned with.

The outcomes:
Luke's issue turned out to be not nearly as big a deal as I thought it might.  Easily treatable and we are doing so.  He weighed in at 37 pounds.

Seth weighed 43 pounds and is 3' 9.5".  He is 50-75th percentile for weight and 90th for height.  I didn't have any big concerns with him, just a few questions and she reassured me he's 'normal.'

Max weighed 18 pounds, 13 ounces.  He is 28.5".  His height is 10th percentile (I think).  His weight is just under 5th percentile  I am thankful these numbers aren't things the doctor gets worked up about.  She laughed and said, "just under 5th percentile is better than well under 5th."  But, that's consistent with where he's been the last few times so she thinks he might just be "my little guy." I can handle that.  He also had a nasty bug bite that blistered up really ugly so she gave us some meds for that.  That made me feel a little better.

So, over all everyone is doing well.  AND they got to eat lunch with Daddy after the appointment.  I was SO thankful that he called and said he was free for lunch because, all kidding aside, I was zapped from trying to corral the 3 of them at the doctor's office.  Wow!

Soccer-tastic!

Last Sunday we went to the sporting goods store to buy [better, aka not 'mommy-chosen'] shin guards for Seth, as well as some shoes and a soccer ball. I was helping him try on the shoes with the shin guards and he looked up at me and said, "Mom, do I look soccer-tastic?" He is so funny!


We let Luke carry the soccer ball so he didn't feel too left out while watching Seth get all this new gear. He was very excited about carrying the ball. Until he saw the football helmets. He ditched that soccer ball and took off like a crazy child. Dave helped him get a helmet on his head and then Luke found a football and he was ridiculously excited. I guess my dreams of "pretty" sports like tennis and golf are not shared by my boys!

Three years old?

It's really hard for me to believe that my sweet little Lukey is 3 years old! We asked Luke what kind of cake and ice cream he wanted and he kept saying strawberry. He never waivered. Then I started asking what kind of decorations he wanted (or, in kid terms, 'what do you want on the plate when I hand you your cupcake?'). But he would only respond with, "stwawbewwies!"

I really want the boys' birthdays to be very special days for them. With three kiddos, there's a lot of sharing, as there should be, but I really want each one to feel special on his birthday. Dave was able to take the day off and Seth had school in the morning so just Luke and I ran some errands in the morning. We started at a bookstore, really for a book for me, but Luke managed to convince me that he might need a new book. Or two. Then we went to the party store so Luke could pick plates and napkins for his party. He chose Elmo. I really thought we'd walk out with Woody and Buzz, but he insisted on Elmo, and insisted on carrying it all to the checkout himself. I think he really just liked the matching party hats. From there we went to the store and bought another cupcake mix (the batch I made Thursday tasted burnt to me). He wanted to tell the lady at the checkout all about his 'stwawbewwy birthday.' Then we ran home, met up with Daddy and Max, made the cupcakes, fed Max, and were back out the door before noon to pick Seth up from school.

Next came the adventure for the day. Dave came up with the activity. After we picked up Seth, we were driving down the road and Seth was pointing out the bowling alley and saying that would be fun to do, maybe once Max is 'grewn up.' We confirmed with Luke that he thought it would be fun someday too and then we pulled into the parking lot. They've "bowled" on the Wii before but this was the first time for either of them to really bowl. It was truly one of the funniest things I've ever seen! Birthday boy at the bowling alley.

We started out this way - bumpers and bowling the ball himself. Dave was a bowler before we met so he was trying to share some technique with him. You can see Luke has crossed the line and is making his way down the lane.

Nevermind that the ball was going SO slow that the screen started flashing and suggesting that we resume bowling. While the ball was wandering down the lane toward the pins.

The ball return was extremely fascinating to both boys.

Very much a fashion statement, those shoes!
A bowling alley employee suddenly appeared with this strange looking thing (it looks a little like a child sized walker). He asked if we wanted to use it. I'm pretty sure I looked at him like he had two heads growing out of his neck, but it turned out to be the neatest thing. The boys put the bowling ball at the top and then it rolls down so it picks up some speed from the get-go and moves things along. I had to laugh at Dave, who kept adjusting it to try to get the best shot. He finally let go and just let them go at it for awhile.

Max was there too. Hanging out in my arms most of the time.

No trip to the bowling alley would be complete without some super greasy and yummy food. It was close to lunchtime so we just got a little something to get them through. After we left the bowling alley we got a much healthier lunch - McDonald's - and promptly deposited Luke into his bed for a little nap.

After that we had dinner. Or I guess I should say I made a (yucky) kid friendly dinner and neither of the boys touched anything on their plate. Normally this would've been an issue, but I've decided that there are three boys which means three birthdays a year and I will NOT fight with them about food on those days. [Don't tell them that.]

After dinner, Grammy and Grampy came over and brought this big ol' noisy dump truck. Clearly he is in love! All sorts of things have been dumped from the back of the the truck. We caught Luke trying to get into it himself today. Right then I made a mental note not to let Max out of my sight! Ha. Luke also got some Cars toys (because we don't have any of those around here), a new game, a fire truck shirt, a puzzle, some toy tools, a couple of books, and a moon. Luke LOVES the moon and a friend of mine (thanks Susan) told me about one that we could put in his room. It's very cool.

Blowing out the candle on his cupcake (and homemade strawberry ice cream).

The party hat and strawberry smoothie. [I love a good theme, although it did feel a little pink for a boy's party.]

The moon in his room. SO fun.

And finally, I guess I missed the memo of how life changes when you turn three. I got to sleep in Saturday morning so when I got up Dave, Seth and Luke were having breakfast. I came downstairs and sat down at the table and Luke looked at me and said, "Hi, Cara." Umm, no, being three does NOT mean you can call Mommy by her first name! Oh, that boy!

Loving me some Lukey...

This post falls into the category of "just because I want to remember." It might be boring to the rest of you, but I just don't want to forget...

One night recently I was reading some books to the boys. One of the books had a leopard in it. I read about the leopard. Luke got all 'pitiful Luke' and said, "What about the cheetah?" I explained it was a leopard and that we'd just read about him. He looked at me and said, "Let me see if it's a cheetah." Then he got up closer to the book and said, "Umm, let's see. Yes, it's a cheetah."

He loves sto state the obvious. I think this is pretty normal at almost three, but it makes me laugh. Usually. Most recently, "If he's cold then he is cold." Thank you for that insight!

One night recently he kept getting out of bed. This was a first for Luke and was my biggest fear about him sleeping in a big bed. The problem with Luke is that he's just so funny. He kept coming out of his room acting like he was sneaking and then he'd bust out laughing as soon as he saw us. He has a cold though and is all sniffly snotty icky - just "off." But the second time he got up he informed us, "I can't sleep because my nose smells like boogers."

I dropped him off at for an hour or so at childcare a few weeks ago. I went to pick him up and the person working in his room told me it's like everything he says is magical. I tried to explain to her that while that's nice for him, I'm pretty sure he gets away with way too much because of it. But I think I just came off sounding like a bad mom.

And, finally, he's really bad about calling us back into his bedroom at night. When I go in and ask what he needs his answer is, "Hugs and keeeses." Who can resist that?

**On a little side note, sweet Luke's little cold progressed into bronchitis. It has made for many a sleepless night, many fights over taking his medicine (not because it's so yucky, but because he thinks it's cute to run from me), and many many meltdowns over pretty much nothing. I couldn't help but capture this look as one of my daily pictures!

Countdown to Thanksgiving...

#8 - Today I am thankful for Luke. Well, technically, I'm thankful for Luke everyday. But today Luke is 2 years and 9 months old. Two years ago today Luke cut his lip open and had to have stitches. That day definitely ranks among my top 3 scariest (post-delivery) mom stories. I only remember the day because he was exactly 9 months, to the day, when it happened. He had to be sedated in the ER so they could stitch his lip and we weren't supposed to touch him when he woke up, etc. It was crummy. But that was then... Luke is a force of nature. My prayer for him is often that his personality will outshine his food allergy. That he won't be the kid in school that teachers groan over having to have in their class because of his allergies, but that rather they will be excited to have so much enthusiasm all rolled up into one person. And he does exude enthusiasm!

He loves to play with all of the Cars movie cars and reenact movie scenes, complete with dialogue. "Fly away Stanley, be freeeeee."

He still sleeps in a crib, although we've purchased the sheets and comforter for his bigger bed. I wanted to keep him in the crib as long as possible so he was "contained." However, he figured out how to escape a few months ago so there's really no point anymore. Besides, he sleeps with two blankets (fire trucks and numbers), Rescue the dog, Pat the hammer, Rusty the wrench(?), pretty Lightning, Buzz, sometimes Woody, Cupcake the dog, and whatever else he picks up on his way to bed. It's getting a little crowded. But, he's taking steps of his own to make some room in his bed, by shedding his clothes. He has decided that he doesn't want to wear his shirt to sleep. "My bwanket will keep me warm." This is hard for a mommy who sleeps in fleece pajamas and socks to put her sweet little boy in bed in shorts and nothing else!

Luke is as loving and cuddly as he is rambunctious. He loves to be held and to cuddle on the couch or watch a movie in our bed. He loves his Baby Max. He loves to go with me to get Max up in the mornings. But he always says, as he peers over the side of Max's crib, "I can pet him." Ummm, he's not a puppy - how about if we just love on him?

And finally, I love Luke's independence. Oh, it drives me crazy, no doubt! The massive meltdown, throw-yourself-in-the-floor-pounding-your-fists-and-screaming-at-the-top-of-your-lungs, when he doesn't get to put his own straw in his cup or put his own toothbrush back in the holder makes me want to scream. And maybe sometimes I do, but I love that he wants to do his own thing and be his own person. "I do it myself" is a phrase I hear often.

So, there you have it - just a few of the reasons that I am so thankful for my little Lukey!

Halloween and Helmet Head

We started out Halloween night taking pictures, of course, at our house. What's the point in dressing up a 5 month old if not to take pictures? I mean, he can't eat the candy or trick-or-treat so it was all about the photo opp.

Next we headed to Grammy and Grampy's for a little visit and some specially prepared treat bags, complete with all kinds of candy that was safe for Luke, some little stuffed bats and pumpkins and some stickers. On the way home Seth said, "I have a gooooood feeling. I think there's a sucker in here!" So funny!

Then we came home to trick or treat in our neighborhood. Seth lasted about 4 houses, at which time he declared he had enough candy and would like to go home. That was shortly after he decided that I should have put a coat on him because he was cold. And Luke was way more interested in whether there might be ducks in the pond that we walked by than in trick or treating.

Cutest moment: Seth refused to go up to a house but Luke went away. The sweet lady gave Luke two pieces of candy. Luke didn't put them in his pumpkin basket. Instead he walked straight down the driveway to Seth, handed him a piece of the candy, and said, "here ya go." Sweetest little guy ever!

Second cutest moment: My mom put together trick or treat bags, paying special attention to only include candy/cookies that were safe for Luke. I pulled it out Monday night and told them they could each pick one thing out of their bag. I told them how neat it was that Grammy made sure it was all safe for Luke. Seth's response, "Umm, that's because she loves us." Yes, yes it is!

***********************

There's really no great transition here, but perhaps it was all in the spirit of dressing up. Seth and Luke spent Saturday morning helping David clean out the garage. Luke attached himself to this bike helmet. He asked that I call him "Helmet." He wore it to eat lunch and even said, "Please say, 'Eat up, Helmet.'" That was funny. But, seriously, the look on Max's face was priceless.

Here's a little zoom in of the look he was giving to Luke and the helmet. I can only imagine that he was thinking, "that kid's different but this tops 'em all!" Eventually Luke had to rock out in the helmet. And not much else. This was just after dinner, where he got food all over his clothes and, thus, isn't wearing them anymore. Apparently his feet were cold (?). And this kid can turn nearly anything into a guitar. And he means business when he plays it!

And finally, Sunday morning Luke, Max, and I stayed home from church. I laid in bed most of the night listening to Luke cough most of the night. He coughed until he threw up a couple of times. I thought that warranted staying home. [I digress, but I believe it to be allergies - nothing congatious. I would not have even considered taking him to church if I thought he would contaminate others! But I thought at least he and I were too tired and pitiful to go.] Anyway, the point of the story - Luke came to me, wearing the helmet, and informed me, "We are staying home from church and I do not have to take the helmet off!" Well, alright then!

When he grows up...

I think we all wonder what our kids might be when they grow up. I was looking through some pictures (finally backing them up on disks) and discovered that Luke might have some trouble narrowing down his field of study. But, here are some of his choices:

A janitor/househusband/something domestic with his cute little dustbuster. Okay, it's my dustbuster and it's really turned on. Hey, if he insists on carrying it around I might as well get some good out of it.

Okay, so in this one he's not doing anything but lying there. But he put his own shoes on, with his jammies, and really thought he should be out there helping Dave fix the deck. So, I think we'll refer to this one as a supervisor.

Doctor Luke. Has a nice ring to it. I'm not sure Max agrees.

Fireman. Yes, those are my faux suede boots that he's sporting. But he looks better in them than I do!

Gardener/Farmer. So proud of his underripe tomato.

And I'm pretty sure this one might be the best option so far - comedian! This kid can make me laugh without even trying. And he loves an audience!

He's also a really great tour guide, although I don't have a picture of that. He loves to point things out. Everytime we pull into our driveway he says, "There's we house!" Or if I tell him I need to grab something from the closet, he walks me there and says, "There's the closet." Ditto the bathroom, his bedroom, you get the idea.

He still has a long time to decide what he wants to be when he grows up (and that's more than fine by me). But I love to wonder what he might choose. What they all might choose really. But for now I think I'll just enjoy their unique little quirks. And hope that they find something to do that truly makes them happy!

Peanut Butter Dreams...

So, just the other day I woke up and realized I had been dreaming about eating spoonfuls of peanut butter chocolate chip cookie dough. I know, this is my third post recently involving cookie dough. I have issues. But, in my dream I was freaking out about eating the peanut butter! I have read that if you have a food allergic child you should avoid those foods when you are pregnant with or breastfeeding subsequent children. As such, I haven't had straight up peanut butter or peanuts since sometime around last September. For the most part, that's not a problem. I don't worry about cross-contamination, etc. for myself and Max, but am avoiding the purest form of peanut products. Easter was hard with those gorgeous Reese's eggs staring a nearly 8 month pregnant lady in the face. But that's about the biggest temptation I've faced. Until my dream anyway. Wow, that was a long prelude to what is likely to be a long (and boring to most) post.

But one year ago today Luke had a peanut butter sandwich with a side of nasty hives and the rest is history. For those of you wondering, I did have to dig up the calendar from last year to find out the exact date. It's not really etched into my head - just the vague knowledge that it was the end of July.

I am so happy with the progress we have made and the things we have learned. I'm also a little disappointed with my own occasional weaknesses (aka breakdowns) as it relates to Luke and his allergies. And please please please know that I am very aware that parents deal with much scarier and more serious issues. The fact that it is "only" food allergies is not lost on me!

Progress: I can get up in the morning and not want to throw up thinking of having to feed Luke three meals and some snacks during the day. For the first week or two post diagnosis it truly made me sick to wake up and think about doing this. The key for me is that the more homemade I can make something the more I can control what's in it and reduce the risk of cross-contamination. This doesn't mean I'm a healthy cook or a good cook. But it does mean that I've learned to make homemade ice cream for birthday parties and bagel dogs that start with yeast and water and donuts fried in my own kitchen and cupcakes that don't come from a bakery. I am thankful for my bread machine and my ice cream maker. I am thankful that I am at home during the day and can spend more time cooking than I was able to when I was working outside of our home. I am thankful to have a handle on which brands label well.

What I'm learning: There are a lot of good resources on the internet. I am blessed to have a really good friend whose little boy is Seth's age and peanut allergic so she's been a great source of information! There's also someone at the church we are attending with a school aged allergic child and she has been very kind to share her knowledge as well.

There is a support group that meets on our side of town. I've only been to a few of the meetings. Honestly, most of the group members have older children and all the talk of the issues with school scare me so I don't really enjoy it too much. But there is an allergist who spoke a few months ago at a meeting I attended and it was so very interesting. I have linked to his blog in my allergy info section.

*I was really surprised to learn that the initial testing should happen a few weeks after a reaction. Any closer to a reaction and the test results are likely to be wrong - and not in a good way. Luke was tested the day of his reaction (bad!) and tested as moderate. It's likely he's more allergic than the test indicated.

*He also talked about a study, in another part of the country, where they were gradually exposing allergic children to the allergen (in a very controlled situation) and the children were able to slowly build up to tolerating small amounts of the allergen. Dave and I are split on whether we would want him to take part in something like this if it was ever an option.

I've also learned that the key is to be prepared. If we're going somewhere that there might be treats then I take my own. You can't just tell a two year old that he can't eat something. You need a substitute for what he can't have. So far, this has worked. Although admittedly we haven't been too many places that this was necessary. I imagine as he gets older and goes to birthday parties, etc. it will get much harder. But for me, I never want him to feel left out so I must be prepared.

As much as I wish I didn't have to know about it, I think it is all very interesting. I really think it would be neat to educate schools/churches/someone about allergies at some point. I certainly don't know all that I would need to know to do that, but I would be willing to learn.

Occasional meltdowns: A rash of any kind freaks me out as I assume it's hives. For one, I'm learning that Luke doesn't tolerate heat well. Or I guess I should say his skin doesn't tolerate heat well. He really doesn't seem to mind at all but gets a little rashy sometimes when he's hot. I have to get used to that and not just assume I've fed him something bad and he's breaking out.

I would like for our pantry to not have anything in it that he cannot eat. For now, I have boxes clearly labelled that he can or cannot eat. But sometimes he catches one of us eating something and to tell him he can't have it makes me crazy, even though he usually doesn't care near as much as I do.

And this one is soooooo ridiculous - but we watch a lot of cooking shows and sometimes it hits me that Luke can't really be a chef when he grows up because there's too much he can't eat/taste. And then it makes me sad that my baby is limited in the things he can do.

And Seth thinks it's cute to call Luke "Mr. Peanut." Clearly, that's just annoying. And Seth eats sunbutter and jelly sandwiches nearly every day. I have told him it's not peanut butter but he refuses to believe me and asks for peanut butter and jelly. One day Luke asked for peanut butter and I told him he couldn't have it. He sat his little body in the corner of our huge couch, slouched his shoulders, and looked down at his pitiful hands in his lap - likely just for show for me, but still.

And I worry about school but that one's a few years away.

And another tough one for me is finding a sitter or using community type daycare (at the gym or a parent's day out type of setting). I don't feel like I can just say 'here he is with his epipen' and expect everyone to know what to do (thankfully he aged out of the area at the gym - not that I've been going - where they feed the kids so that makes it much easier).

So, that's that. A year down, the rest of his life to go. Wow, if anyone is still reading, you deserve some cookie dough! I ate all of mine, so you'll have to find your own. But do reward yourself!! No, really, thanks for hanging in there. Now I'm going to go get some hugs from the cutest 2 year old I know!

Pretend boxing is a LOT of work...