SANTA FAIL

The thin line between providing our children happiness and spoiling them rotten is a tightrope that I think all parents stumble across. For me, this has become a difficult task when I am consumed with overwhelming desire to never have Ryan face anything remotely disappointing ever again, after all that he has been through. But it seems I should give him more credit. Just the other day he proved to be amazingly hopeful in the face of disappointment.

We were in the car headed to my sister's house for my niece's 3rd birthday just this past Friday.  Rowan was asleep within minutes as the hypnotic engine played her favorite lullaby. Ryan played with a toy and hummed happily. I was fighting off a headache (the start of my current cold as it turns out), trying to concentrate on the road as the commercial noise on the radio softly buzzed in the background. Then from the back seat I heard a sweet little voice.

"I had so much fun the other day opening presents!" he chimed so cheerily, kicking his feet rhythmically against the back of the front seat.

"Oh, you mean on Christmas?" I clarified more than asked.

"Oh yeah, yeah, yeah... on Christmas, " he corrected. "That was so much fun!"

"Yes, it was a very special day and Santa was so very nice to bring us so many wonderful gifts." I tried to continue on, mentioning something about how just being together was gift enough but I was abruptly interrupted by the saddest sound ever.

"Yeah, it was so nice, even if Santa did forget to bring me the super duper Lightning McQueen race car thingy that I really, really wanted."

My heart sank. I had dreaded this moment but I thought it was going to happen on Christmas day, not nearly a week later. You see, for the past month we ran into Santa several times at a variety of venues. And each and every time when Santa asked what he wanted, he would instantly reply with the same exact answer: A Super Duper Lightning McQueen Race Car Thingy. He sounded so much like the kid in A Christmas Story, the same enthusiasm and quick tongued matter-of-fact manner that it made me giggle every time.

Believe me, I tried to figure out what in the world that was. I asked other moms and relatives if they could decipher the foreign language of my child. I only got the same deer-in-headlights look I'm sure I displayed the first time I heard him say it, followed by looks of pity and the unhelpful tidbits of "Well, you'd better figure it out soon." I looked through sale ads asking him to point it out to me. That proved to be too overwhelming for him because he ended up pointing to each and every awesome toy in the ad that he wanted Santa to bring for him. But none were the Super Duper gift he so coveted. I asked him to describe it for me to which he responded with a "You know mom, the super duper one." Riiiiight. How silly of me. I scavenged the aisles of several stores, even daring to ask a pimply seasonal worker if he knew what it was to which I got a blank stare which turned into a suspicious look as if I were playing some kind of a hidden camera joke on him. I even typed it into Google hoping maybe it would miraculously show me the item I sought instead of the 1,240,000 useless results. I was even desperate enough to ask my cryptic four year old to draw me a picture of it. "Mom. You know." was all I got. Apparently I have impressed my children so much with my incredible mind reading skills that they automatically assume my powers transcend the Santa-Parent barrier.

I ended up buying a few items that I thought perhaps were cool enough to qualify as super duper though in my heart I feared the worst. I even held out hope that our foundation Santas had hidden the prize amongst the generous piles of wrapped gifts. (The presents were ALL so very wonderful, by the way! Thank you Secret Santas!)

"Wha?" I stammered reaching for the radio knob to shut off the noise. "You didn't... Santa didn't..." I was so glad he could not see my horrified face.

"Santa must've forgot to bring the super duper Lightning McQueen race car thingy I asked for." He then let out a huge sigh of disappointment and my heart broke. "That's okay. I guess the elves just didn't know how to make it." he concluded. I imagine he was shaking his hanging head.

"Ohhhh. Can you tell me about it please? What does it look like? I'm just so sad about this." I pried for more info.

"Oh no Mom," he reassured, "Don't feel sad about it. It's not your fault."

I couldn't even breathe let alone speak as I tried to stifle laughter and tears.

"It's okay, mom. Maybe Santa will remember to bring it next year."

So although Santa obviously failed, Ryan's positive outlook persevered and that is a win in my book.

Speaking of Santa fail... This morning Daddy came downstairs with a box he found in our bedroom. Inside were a few small gifts that Santa had forgotten to put under the tree. D'oh! Hopefully Santa will have his act together next year!

We hope you all had a wonderful holiday and here's to a prosperous New Year!

Grains of Sand

I live in a small quiet neighborhood, where everyone knows each other, people are friendly, helping with yard work, sharing their garden's harvest, lending tools, and always ready to share a drink and some gossip. The appearance of emergency vehicles on our street gets everyone's attention, even when they just cut through to another street. And the time a tree fell on someone's car one street over and the power was out for a few hours, everyone came out of their houses to nose around, see what was happening, and chat with each other. So having an ambulance and police car stop at our house, the house where the kid with cancer lives, I am sure that caused quite a stir in the neighborhood and many to worry.
But it was not Ryan who was rushed away. It was me.
I had a rough day on Tuesday.
I woke up with a massive headache that just got worse as the day went on.
I decided to not take any of my pain pills or muscle relaxers since I had a Dr appointment with the nurse practitioner to follow up on my back issue.
For those that don't know, I went to the ER at 4AM Friday morning because I woke up with an awful pain in my lower back. I felt like I couldn't move. It took awhile to get out of bed and when I did I felt the pain shoot into my hip joints and down my legs. I have never had pain like that and certainly never had back pain that woke me up before. I decided to go to the ER. I drove myself. And in less than an hour I was out of the ER with prescriptions of pain meds, muscle relaxers and anti-nausea pills. They did no tests other than a urine test. I told them of my history of kidney stones and they ruled that out because of the location of the pain. I too, was convinced this was not kidney related because of how the pain shot down my legs.
So after a weekend of being a drugged up zombie, I decided to back off the pain pills on Monday so that I was halfway human to care for the kids. I was still really sleepy but managed to keep the kids alive until Robert got home from work and could take over for me. That day I noticed a dull ache in my back. The kind of ache that in the past typically precludes a kidney stone.
Back to Tuesday... at the doctor's office I told the nurse my story and she was appalled that the ER did not do any tests on me knowing that I had a history of kidney stones. So she wanted me to get a CT scan of my pelvis and abdomen to check for kidney stones. She also heard some rattling in my lungs and wanted me to get a chest xray as well since I was sick with strep two weeks ago. And she wanted to get a blood workup as well.
While discussing these things I mentioned about how I had experienced some chest pains about a week and a half ago. It was a Sunday evening, the kids were in bed, and I was sorting coupons on the floor. I felt a tightness and squeezing in the middle of my chest and a tingling numbness that radiated down my left arm. I was surprised and a little afraid. It came and went in waves and lasted about a half hour. I was fine afterwards so I figured it was nothing. She was concerned and did an EKG in the office which turned out fine. Maybe it was just a fluke, maybe heartburn, maybe a panic attack. But I wasn't panicked about anything. I didn't feel particularly stressed or anxious. She said the next time that happens to call her right away.
So I left the office after getting my blood drawn, with an ever increasing headache. I figured if I could just get home, I can take my pain pills and I'll be alright. I picked up the kids from a friend's house and headed home. I fed them lunch and put Ro down for a nap. Ry watched a video and played quietly. By this time the headache had gotten even worse and I felt very nauseous. I thought I should eat something because maybe that's the reason why my head hurts so bad. I ate a banana and some tortilla chips but the nausea stopped me from eating anything more. The pain was so bad and I was feeling extremely exhausted, like I could go to sleep at any second. I didn't take my pain pills because I was afraid of of them knocking me out when I had the kids to take care of and I was already so tired. I sat down and tried to close my eyes for just a moment and meditate away the pain. I called several people trying to find someone to come and sit with the kids while I just take a pain pill and nap for a bit.  But no one was home or available. Then I started to feel very strange. The pain had increased along with some new symptoms.
Difficulty breathing, dizziness, nauseous, tightness in chest, and tingling and numbness in both my arms and hands... it freaked me out. I thought I was having a heart attack.
I called Robert and told him that I wasn't feeling well and that I think I'd better go to the ER and can he please come home. He said he was on his way.
Then my phone rang and it was the scheduling department at the hospital wanting to schedule my CT scan and xray. I told the lady I wasn't feeling well. I told her I may be coming to the ER. I told her I didn't well at all and that I was having a hard time breathing and felt like I was about to go to sleep. She replied, "So you don't want to schedule this right now?" I told her again I didn't feel well at all and she said, "OK, then I'll let you go." It didn't occur to me until much later how absurd that conversation was.
I crumpled to the floor and tried to stay awake and stay calm. I then called my dad to ask if he could come be with the kids. He said I had better call the paramedics right away if I was experiencing numbness in my hands and chest pain and difficulty breathing. He demanded, "Get off the phone with me and call 911."
So I did.
The operator said she'd send someone right away. I then asked Ryan to run next door and tell them Mommy needs help. He said, "But Mom, I don't have any shoes on." I told him that it was ok just this once and to hurry next door and knock on the door really loud. He gleefully ran outside and returned moments later. I asked if he did as I asked and he replied, "But Mom, there were spider webs on their door." Turns out it didn't matter anyway because they were not home and the paramedics arrived shortly after. I explained to Ryan that some doctors were coming to look at mommy and make her feel better and to not be afraid. I told him they would probably take mommy to the hospital. He loves the hospital so this did not sound bad to him at all. In fact, he was so excited to see the ambulance he was practically jumping up and down.
My eyes were closed most of the time because I was just so tired, I was fighting sleep and pain and fear. I could hear many voices asking me questions and taking my blood pressure and checking my oxygen levels. Someone went upstairs and got Rowan out of bed. Someone else entertained Ryan.
Others helped me to my feet and helped me walk (more or less carried me) outside to the bed and then wheeled me into the back of the ambulance. Robert arrived and took care of getting someone to watch the kids and headed to the hospital right after I left in the ambulance. They checked my blood sugar and it was at 80. They said they only treat if it is below 80. They then tried, and failed, to put an IV in my hand while en route to the hospital. It felt more like they were digging around in my hand with a wire. Too dehydrated I guess. But they got one in at the hospital without any problems.
At the hospital they gave me something for the nausea and morphine for the pain. Morphine does not knock me out. This is something Ryan and I have in common. If anything it seems to perk us up. They did a chest xray and ct scan of my abdomen. The doc came back with good news. He said that my vitals and lab work and xray all looked great, like a young healthy woman. And on the CT scan they found nothing but two very tiny, almost microscopic, stones in my left kidney. These two little stones, like grains of sand, were wreaking havoc on my body. The doc explained that the increasing pain caused me to have a panic attack which explains the chest pains and dizziness and such. The numbness in my extremities was caused from my hyperventilation and blowing off too much carbon dioxide. He had a fancy word for it but I can't remember what it was now.
They sent me home with another prescription for pain medicine. And I didn't even get to vote.
And now it is a waiting game. I am drinking plenty of water and taking my pain pills and I'm just waiting for them to pass. There is nothing they can do for me. There's nothing anyone can do. I just have to keep taking the pain pills to be able to somewhat function and not scream.
So Wednesday I decided to go to my mom's house in order to have some help with the kids while I am drugged up. I experienced the chest pains once more. I was not stressed or panicked, just sitting still and talking to my mom at the time.
So I called the doctor's office right away. The receptionist asked to take a message because the nurse practitioner was seeing patients at the moment. I told her, "I saw the nurse yesterday and I was taken to the ER later the same day by paramedics because of chest pain. The nurse had told me if it happens again to call her. So that is why I am calling right now. I am having the chest pains... right now." The receptionist replied, "Ok. I'll give her the message."  Click.
The pains came and went once again. No big deal. I took another pain pill and decided to take a nap. When I awoke, I had a message and three missed calls from the doctor's office. The voicemail had a panicked sounding receptionist who said "I gave her the message and she wants you to go to the ER right away. Please call me and tell me you got this message."
She obviously got chewed out for not instructing someone to go to the ER when they call saying they have chest pain. I called back and told the receptionist that while I got her message I did not go to the ER, and was not planning to go as the pains have come and gone. And besides yesterday the doc told me it was just a panic attack, nothing more. She implored me to please go to the ER if they happen again as it is better safe than sorry.
So now as I wait for those grains of sand to pass as painlessly as possible (yeah right) and try and figure out what I am so stressed and anxious about.
I have no reason to be stressed and anxious now, right? Now that everything is ok. Now that the worst is over. Now that we can all sit back and relax and breathe. If anything, you would've expected me to be breaking down and having panic attacks a year ago. Maybe the past year has finally caught up with me. Maybe I can no longer be strong. Maybe I am tired of being brave. Maybe I just want to break down and cry and scream and shout out at how unfair all of this has been for us. Maybe all of my strength and courage has finally been spent. And now all that's left of me is being washed away like grains of sand upon a shore.

Open Sesame

Some days are magical.

It starts with rousing from sleep while being covered in little angel kisses, my ears being greeted with the sound of little voices giggling and chanting my favorite name, "mama", my eyes fluttering open to see chubby smiles.  And then I glance at the alarm clock to see it's nearly 10AM.

Is it possible for such a rarity to occur?

Definitely magic.
 
I wash and dress and inspect my appearance in the mirror.  There's a smile there.  Every hair is in place and all the fabric fits perfectly.  Big brother R dresses himself and little R sits quietly allowing me to fix her hair.

They eat all their food, nothing left to throw away: fresh fruits & veggies, cheese & yogurt, and whole wheat bread and crackers.

Some days the magic dissipates with the first tantrum.  And other days, like today, it lingers, filling the voids with incredible happenings.

Big brother R reads his first word.  Little sister R says a new word.  And I find time to bake some cookies and organize all of my coupons.

The kids hug and kiss each other, share their toys, help each other, read to each other.  Their kindness flows over to me as well: hugs and kisses, "may I"s, "please"s and "thank you"s, cuddles galore, and lots of "I love you"s.

All of nature calls to me: the weather beautiful, a strong sweet breeze, the flowers bright and full, the cheerful chirping and busy buzzing.  I breathe it all in.

The positive energy is palpable, even the once lazy cats perk up playful as kittens.  We are all energized in play.  We dance, chase, and discover new acrobatic feats.  We blow bubbles, decorate the drive with chalk masterpieces, and make wishes on dandelions that have gone to seed. 

Nap time and bed time rituals come and go without fights or tears.  A restful sleep brings pleasant dreams.

The next day I decide to keep the magic alive.  I closed my eyes to the messes, pushed the clouds of frustration aside, and ignored the laundry and dishes.  And I was rewarded once again.   

Perhaps the magic is always there and I just opened my heart long enough to see it.