Baby Rocky

I am a mother of two, and for the next month at least, I can still qualify as being a mom of two boys, two years and under. Yes moms, they are both still in diapers, but we are working on that. We do the best we can. I am a laid back mommy,and I have to be in order to maintain my sanity. My house looks like a playschool war zone, and the laundry is an immortal beast that I cannot tame. I have given up on trying to sanitize everything that touches my infant's mouth, but when one of my babies is hurt, common sense takes a back seat, the over protective mother in me materializes, and I find myself in the ER paying $150 for a Physician Assistant to tell me that my baby bumped his nose and all he needs is some Tylenol. Such was the case this morning.

Yesterday I was enjoying a relatively calm fall morning with my boys at the neighborhood park. It was perfect. There was not a cloud in the sky, and with the exception of two other toddlers and mommies who were playing at the swings, we had the entire park to ourselves. Slides and jungle gyms were all free and clear for the boys to explore. This was going to be great, I thought. I even remembered the jackets, diapers, snacks, and sippy sups (all for two, mind you). The boys played for a while on the toddler slides and we moved to the preschool playground when Camden (my oldest) became bored and wanted to go on the big-boy slides. He is an expert. He took off running and Cavan ran behind him. I followed with all the gear.

The boys appeared safe and were having fun, so I sat down on the bench for a second. "This is nice" I thought. I never get to sit down at the park, and usually I return home even more tired than the boys. I noticed Cavan climbing the stairs to go to the big slide, so I run to him and pull him down to the ground. This did not make him happy. I diverted his attention to something else, and I noticed Camden a few feet away. Camden calls me for something and I move toward him. I turn around and see the baby running to another side of the play structure. I move again, but not fast enough. Cavan trips on the monkey bars, hits his nose on the cold metal bars, and falls to the ground. I pick him up thinking that he would be fine. He was screaming, but he did not fall from the bars. They extend from the bridge of the play structure to the ground. He just tripped over the low bars. "Cavie's all-right," I told Camden, who was visibly upset as well. "He just has a boo-boo." Then I saw the blood spill from my baby's nose. We run to the bathroom, and I get tissue and pinch his nostrils shut. I cuddle Cavan in my arms and hold Camden's hand, and we cross the parking lot and head to the car. I clean the blood with wipes, assure the boys that everything will be fine, and then I head for home.

Cavan is very upset and his older brother, Cam is whimpering saying he's sad. It's not far home, and I can tell that Cavan is trying to cuddle in his car seat and go to sleep. He just needs some rest, I thought, and he will feel better. We get home and I give Cavan some milk. His nose has stopped bleeding and he shows me he is tired. I cuddle with him and then put him down for a nap. I have a quiet lunch with Camden and then we play puzzles, read books, and color. He even helps me start supper. Cavan wakes from his nap and Cam gets excited that his playmate is back. He looks bruised, but he is happy. The boys have an afternoon snack and go about the rest of the day as normal. Ryan comes home and dotes on the baby for a while, and we have supper together. We agree that everything is fine.

This morning I woke up panicking. "Oh, God! What if Cavan broke his nose and I didn't even know? What if he is permanently disfigured because of my neglect? I don't want my toddler to look like a baby boxer! What if he is still in pain? Should I have taken him to the doctor?" I am feeling worse by the minute about my baby's still swollen nose, so I decide to take Camden to a drop-in day care and rush Cavan to Urgent Care. We are new to the town and still do not have a local pediatrician. The medical records are en-route to the new office, and we cannot be seen yet. The doctor at Urgent Care informs me that he doesn't have the equipment necessary to care for Cavan. "Equipment?" I thought. "He needs a CAT scan?" Oh no. This is worse than I thought. The Urgent Care doctor gives me directions to the hospital and says we need to go there "just to be safe". After all, Cavan could have a head injury.

We head to the hospital and Cavan is getting fussy along the way. He is tired and hungry. I don't have lunch or even a sippy cup with me. I wasn't really planning on being out this long. I definitely wasn't planning on a trip to the ER.We arrive after five minutes of driving, and I become anxious about being in an ER with my bruised, but otherwise well baby. "I hope he doesn't catch the flu (or worse) in here," I thought. After triage and insurance verification we waited for what seemed like an eternity to be seen by the doctor. Cavan did not want to stay in his stroller, and I didn't want him out of the stroller running the floors and touching everything. The PA arrives, makes baby talk, shines a light up Cavan's nose and says It's just a bump in the nose. He'll be just fine. He can have Tylenol for the pain." He leaves shortly to get our discharge paperwork. Another employee returns with the forms and says, "Your insurance co-pay is $150.00. How will you be paying?"

Cavan Can't Catch A Break!

Cavan (16 months) had his first visit to the ER a couple of months ago when he fell and busted his little baby button nose on the cold, low-level monkey bars of a local playground (see blog entitled "Baby Rocky" for the full story) Since then he has been bumped, bruised, battered, and now that he is in daycare part-time, even bitten.

This morning I was cleaning up from breakfast when I witnessed my baby tumble once again to the ground before I could catch his fall. Since the day he started walking he started climbing, and my life has been a series of mild heart-attacks ever since. I have to move all the food (and anything else interesting) from the kitchen table after every meal. If I don't get the goodies cleared quick enough, Cavan will scoot a chair to the table, climb on top with the greatest of ease, perch in the very center, and start noshing on the leftovers. This morning I was behind my game when he spotted some waffles, climbed up in his older brother's booster seat, and stood to reach the table which was three feet away from the chair. He overestimated his reach. His little feet slipped from underneath him and he tumbled face first to the hardwood floors below. He landed on his nose. I ran to him, scooped him up, gave him a comforting bottle of warm milk, and rocked him in my arms while trying to nurse his wounds with a frozen bag of peas. I don't think we need to go to the ER this time, but I'll keep a bag packed for him in the car, just in case.

Candy-colored carpet

10/26/09.

My mornings are usually a little bit chaos with a dash of crazy, but things really seem to get off to the wrong start when the boys wake me up first. I really need to force myself to get out of bed when I hear Ryan leave for work, but up until recently, my youngest was still waking at least once every night wanting a bottle or a diaper. Camden (almost three years) and Cavan (16 months) wake up between 6:30 and 7:30 every morning. I can hear Cavan in his crib "whoo, whooing" and laughing to himself. He is a morning person, and he can't wait to be set free so he can get at the toys. Camden usually takes longer to come around in the mornings. He always wakes me to tell me he wants warm milk and cartoons, please. He still wakes up in my room in the mornings. Sometime in the middle of every night he darts into our bedroom in a mild panic. He no longer pitter-patters, but runs down the hall from his room to ours. I believe he wakes from bad dreams. This makes my heart heavy, and I always scoop him up and place him between Ryan and me.

Yesterday morning started like most others, and I awakened to the pleasant sound of Cavan laughing in his crib in the room down the hall. I changed his diaper, got his milk, and then sent him off to work destroying my living room. Camden woke and gave him the same service. Later in the morning, after my second cup of coffee, I thought I might be able to sneak off for a shower. The boys were playing peek-a-boo in my clothes closet, a walk-in closet in the master bath. They sounded like they were having fun and not getting in to trouble, so I jumped in the shower. I could still hear them playing close by. I proceeded to shampoo thinking the worst the could do in the closet was pull the clothes off the hanger. Oh foolish mother, haven't you learned anything yet? The closet became quiet; I knew it was a bad omen. I wrapped a towel around me and peeked in the closet. Oh, dear Lord. Oh, no. My closet floor was covered with hundreds of teeny, tiny rainbow-colored sprinkles (the kind used for baking). My boys, bless them, were licking the candied treats right from the carpet, thus moistening the dyes so the all the colors of the rainbow could settle into their new home on the floor of my closet. "How," I wondered, "did they acquire the candied sprinkles?" I shooed them from the closet and headed to the kitchen where I saw a chair pushed up next to the counter. Obviously Cam had spotted the sprinkles and set his mind on obtaining them. From now on, I vowed, I will force myself to get up with Ryan so I can dress and drink a cup of coffee before my children rise. Then I will be ready for more adventures in diaperland. Bring it on, boys!

Rewind Charlotte: Our First House and Baby

Our first home in Charlotte was the house of my dreams: two-story foyer, ceiling-to-floor built-in bookcases, a bright wall of windows in the family room, and a fenced- in back yard filled with so many trees in bloom, that I would never know I had neighbors. I knew when I first saw it that this was where I wanted to raise my children (who were still a distant thought at that time). Little did I know that we would move after only three years in the house. The minute I learned of my pregnancy with Camden, I became so excited picturing my house with a baby. I daydreamed of a magical nursery like the one from Mary Poppins. After nine months off pregnancy and more than sixteen hours of labor, Camden blessed us with his presence November 30th, 2006. He was four days early. The moment I brought him home and snuggled with him next to the fireplace and Christmas tree, I knew that my home and life would never be the same. My house, still largely unfurnished with so much work still to go, all of a sudden felt so cozy and complete when Camden was in the room. It didn't matter to me where we lived, as long as he was safe and sound.

Rewind Charlotte: The Piano and the Apartment

Ryan and I enjoyed the city life for two and a half years before Camden was born. Our first abode in Charlotte was a well-lit apartment with vaulted ceilings, and I felt just at home. I was working on my Master of Music degree when we first moved to Charlotte, and I insisted on having the piano with me. My father, brothers, and Ryan, carried the ridiculously heavy piano up three flights of stairs so I could have a practice room in my apartment. We (they) put the piano in the "solarium" which served as my practice studio. I had a great view from my piano bench. They had back pain for a month. Less than a year later, we bought our first house and it was time to move the piano again this time down three flights of stairs. Probably still feeling the pain from the last move, my dad generously gave me money to hire professionals. I called My Three Sons moving Company. They said they would send two movers. I warned the rep over the phone that she needed to send four. Just like the name promises, they sent three sons (not their sturdiest looking fellows either). They were ready for business with back supports, pulleys, ramps and the kitchen sink. After at least an hour of pushing, pulling, sweating, and I think bleeding, one of the sons said to me, "If you have to move this piano again, do not call My Three Sons Movers!"

Introducing Cavan

Cavan was born on July 1st, 2008. He came four days after his due date, and he was worth every second of the wait. At only 15 months old, he shows more independence than his brother. He has perfected the art of ducking and running and can hold his own with his big brother. He loves to cuddle and gives the yummiest hugs. Camden has found a new playmate in his brother Cavan, and I gush over the moments when they make each other smile.

Introducing Camden

Camden was born on November 30th, 2006. His is now almost 3, and still the center of my universe. I haven't slept since he was born, and I don't miss it at all. He usually creeps into my room every night, and I look forward to the midnight visits. We'll correct that eventually, but for a little while longer, he is still my baby.