I'm 35 tomorrow

On the eve of my 35th birthday, Ben and I are eating tortilla chips and mango salsa as we watch the Survivor finale. All 4 kids were in bed before 8. Did I mention that the baby has a bedtime? She totally does. In her own crib even. She is one of those put down drowsy but awake babies I have always read about but didn't believe existed.

 Anyway, maybe it's the snack or the quiet house or the lovely Mother's Day we've had, but I feel grateful for my life and all the people in it. And I am not even drinking. Although I did start the day with a surprisingly strong mimosa-- maybe the brunch bartender felt bad for us as we wrangled 4 tiny kids-- and I was nostalgic for my day-drinking days. Ah, college. Ah, grad school. Ah, life before Mother's Day was about me.

Cooper did, of course, still have a fever on Friday. That's it, though, just a fever. 102.5 the second his Tylenol wore off round the clock. No other symptoms except general lethargy and crabbiness. He even fell asleep on the floor a couple of times. OF COURSE we went back to the pediatrician because after Harry's ordeal, I am "that mom" and will go to the doctor seeking antibiotics for every sniffle from here on out even if Ben is in class and I have to take several children by myself. Cooper lost his shit again OF COURSE, and I had to hold him for his exam while Dorothy lost her mind in the stroller (and it seems that Cooper begins freaking out the moment I pick up the baby, so I had to put her down mid-scream, but it was too late-- Coop was already cray-cray). Luckily he had an ear infection and scored a script, so the doctor did not have to culture his throat. He feels much better and is back to his usual living Build-a-Bear self. Phew. (Dorothy, though, has what looks like diaper rash in her neck folds, and Jack looked really sick at dinner tonight, so we might be back in the office before our already scheduled well child checks-- 18 months for Coop, 2 months for Dorothy, and 5 years for Jack-- next week).

My awesome parents sent me this on Thursday as an early birthday present, proving that you should always be Facebook friends with your parents because they will hear you crowdsourcing your friends and buy you good gifts.

I love feeding Dorothy-- this is my view of her all the time.  So sweet.

Vera Bradley layette!  Love it!  Also, this is the first time I have ever had a less-than-2-month-old baby who can wear 3 to 6 month clothes.

Harry at brunch this morning,  He ate SO MUCH, including several plates of bacon and a made-to-order ham and cheese omelet.  We won;t mention that to his cardiologist on Friday.

Cooper really likes watermelon.

Jack is a buffet risk taker and loaded up on the shrimp.  Also, I love how scrunchy Dorothy is in this picture.

We finally figured out how to eat our meal in peace:  keep  Cooper in whipped cream and cupcakes.

He even had whipped cream on the bottom of his shoes.

See his footprints?

Ben suggested we sit on a bench outside the ballroom for our picture, but it wasn't very pretty, so I insisted we go into the lobby.  In the time it took to get downstairs, everyone started acting squirrely, though, and I ended up immortalizing this weird straddle hold.

Jack is too cool for school.

Speaking of school, this is what Jack made.  I asked him what he was saying, but he said he had a spine on his leg, which I think means he sat near a prickly bush?  I am going to miss homemade Mother's Day gifts, by the way.  (Although Ben got me gorgeous flowers and a 6-month series of pedicures at my favorite spa, so there's always that stuff to tide me over after pom-pom picture frames and mystery plants potted in plastic cups stop coming my way).

Ben and Dorothy spent Cooper's nap watching Kill Bill Vol 2.  FOTY.

Dorothy didn't get her usual 8:30 nap this morning because we went to brunch (clearly it was heavy on the "br" part).  We thought she'd sleep through it, but she fussed and nursed the whole damn time.  Then we went to Whole Foods because we had no food in our house, and she sort of slept in the store.  Once we got home, though, she spent the entire rest of the day giving us the creepy stare and trying to eat herself to sleep, spitting up, and starting the whole process again.  I put her to bed at 6.

Because I am officially an old lady tomorrow, I thought I would ring in 35 in true super old lady fashion by making a recipe I clipped from the paper.  This particular recipe is from 1978, so it's as old as I am.  Twinkies!  Ben and I are excited, but the kids have never had a Twinkie, so they just think it's a weird cake alternative.

Happy Mother's Day-- I hope it was lovely!

Plague

Cooper is sick again.

AGAIN.

He has been sick almost constantly since Dorothy has been born.  A virus.  Strep.  An ear infection.  A virus, and now a fever and general misery-- probably the dread Justavirus, but who knows because there was too much snot, milk, blood, and granola bar on his throat culture for the doctor to be totally confident in its negative result.

Blood.  Because Cooper went apeshit crazy as soon as our nurse called us back to the exam room.  He had been happily babbling about fish (shish) and eating a granola bar at the tiny waiting room table next to the aquarium.  Then he heard his name and lost his mind.  He bit his tongue (or maybe the inside of his lip) during his strep test and screamed and kicked like crazy while first the nurse and then the doctor checked him out.  On my lap where I was also nursing Dorothy under my nursing cover because my outfit was not muffin-top friendly.  I sweated through my clothes and felt the benefits of the heavenly massage I enjoyed right before the appointment leaking away.  And that was before both babies crapped themselves AT THE SAME TIME.  It was the worst time I have ever had at the doctor including the time that ended in a PICU stay and the time I had to wait for 45 minutes in an 8x8 box with all 4 kids.  Although I was impressed by the doctor's ability to put Dorothy's sock back  on the foot that was sticking out of the nursing cover with one hand while he used the other hand to hold his stethoscope on Cooper's writhing back.  I'm not good at one-handed sock application.

The bad news is that if he doesn't feel better tomorrow (and since he has a 102-degree fever the second his Tylenol wears off and keeps falling asleep on the floor, I am not holding my breath) I have to take him back to the doctor. Neat-o.

I think the blood test that accompanied his last bout with Justavirus really freaked him out and now he hates all things doctor-related.

Cooper asleep at 8:00 yesterday morning, a mere hour after he woke up

The other week, all the big kids wanted Panera, but I didn't want to take them all to Panera, so I made chicken noodle soup with french bread to dip, apples, and brownies, and we had Panera at home.

The other day, they wanted it again, so we went out-- a more stressful dining experience, but cleanup was a breeze!

Yesterday, Harry's class ended their unit on pioneers with a pretty intense pioneer museum in the cafeteria.  They had maps, wagon trains, journals, and hilarious stations where they explained things like how to do wash, how to make butter, what pioneer schools were like, a typical journey on the Oregon trail, and popular pioneer cliches.

Harry picked out his own outfit and was really bothered by his anachronistic Crocs.  He also fashioned suspenders out of the strap from his lunchbox.

To keep his love of pioneer culture alive, I told him we could implement the "Children should be seen and not heard" cliche.  It's not going well.

Catch up

Harry had another follow-up. Things look good-- no change, still some fluid around the heart and around the lungs.  He still has activity restrictions-- no soccer, no gym, no recess, no running.

I picked up a Melissa and Doug sticker faces pad at the hospital gift shop, and it is a hit with all ages.

Cooper loves to rip Dorothy's bows off her head and wear them.  Today, he dropped her stretchy leopard headband in a puddle, retrieved it, and sucked the water out of it, which is how I knew he was thirsty.

Dorothy sleeps away from me now in places like her crib and her bouncy chair.

This stroller is HEAVY

Ben brought all the outside furniture out of the attic and stuffed the Christmas decorations in it.

Cooper got a super hero mask.

Harry talked to Dorothy for over an hour about colors and pioneer America.

We went to the zoo.

I got to take everyone to the ER yesterday morning because I dropped Dorothy on her head.  She's fine.  Ben said she was fine, but I dropped her on her head!  She hit the top of her head, bounced, and landed on her forehead.  I was holding her against my shoulder with one hand and putting laundry in a basket with my other hand, leaning forward.  She arched back and bam!  It was horrible.  But everyone got a 6:30 am ER popsicle, so there's that.

Since Harry can't do recess, we go to school and take him for a walk while his friends are on the playground.  It's a nice little interlude for us and for him and it beats him sitting in the nurse's office and prevents him from  bouncing off the classroom walls all afternoon.  But, as you can see, it messes with Cooper's nap.

That's what's been going on here for the last few days.  Just taking walks and dropping baby.  You know.

My blanky

He's home!

He feels fine but has to take lots of meds: ibuprofen every 8 hours to treat the inflammation he still has, Zantac twice a day in case the ibuprofen hurts his tummy, and penicillin twice a day for the rest of his life because he's being treated for rheumatic fever (!).  At least he learned how to swallow pills, so the Zantac and penicillin are easy peasy.  We follow up with the cardiologist tomorrow and the infectious disease doctor in 2 weeks and should know more then.  He went to school yesterday and was happy as a clam, though we are still washing off all the sticky gunk from his monitors, IVs, and chest drain.

Jack missed Harry the most and has almost stopped acting up to show his feelings.

Cooper feels better and is a total delight again.  He got a super hero shirt with a cape the other day, and I told him when he put it on that he had to use his super powers to protect his little sister.  He immediately went to the rock n play and patted her head.

He stayed there for awhile.

Until the knife drawer's siren song was too sweet.

Now back to our previously scheduled blathering about how sweet the baby is-- because there's a 7-week-old in the house, and that's what this blog should be all about!

The suspicious look!

Almost a smile for the monkey!

WOULD REALLY LIKE TO EAT THE CUPCAKE

She slept sweetly in her bouncer the whole time Ben and I gorged on Indian take out (chicken jalfreezi, vegetables vindaloo, garlic naan!) and watched Veep and Amazing Race on the DVR to celebrate Harry's return.

Today she and I went to work, and we got tons done including lunch at my desk for both of us and cleaning up my filthy office-- and real work, too.

How in the world can this be my last experience with a 7-week-old?  She has barely ever slept anywhere but in my arms because I don't want to put her down and miss a single second. I drag her everywhere like she's my blanky.

Tomorrow, Harry has his 7th echocardiogram in 10 days.  I'll keep you posted.

100 Books: April Update

I only read 11 books last month, and I hope to read more in May.  I have 3 thrillers from the library and Lean In and the new David Sedaris sitting on my counter to jump start things.  It's easy to fall back into the habit of not reading, you know?  Anyway, here's April's list:

11.  My Sister From the Black Lagoon by Laurie Fox:  Meh.
10.  The Ivy Chronicles  by Karen Quinn:  A cute plot about competitive NYC kindergarten admissions, but totally trite and predictable.
9.  I Still Dream About You by Fannie Flagg:  I had high hopes for this book because Flagg's Daisy Fay and the Miracle Man is my second favorite book of all time, but this story about a sweet, aging former Miss Alabama just doesn't hit the same spot.  Seriously, though, you should read Daisy Fay.
8.  Wife 22 by Melanie Gideon:  I liked this book about a 20-year-old marriage on the rocks-- good characters, interesting writing style (used lots of FB statuses to advance the plot), nice story line.  I read it in the hospital, and it was a nice distraction.
7.  Mennonite in a Little Black Dress by Rhoda Janzen:  Hilarious!  Touching! A great memoir.
6.  Beautiful Lies by Lisa Unger: I have a weakness for thrillers, and I liked this one so much, I checked out 3 more by the same author.
5.  The Land of Decoration by Grace McCleen: Such a great story about a little girl whose father's strict religious views have warped her worldview.
4.  Bel Canto by Ann Patchett: Wow.  Such a cool story, so impeccably crafted.  If I wasn't a sucker for scary books and tear jerkers, this would be the month's runaway winner.
3.  Sharp Objects  by Gillian Flynn:  Oh my god.  Better than Gone Girl.
2.  Dark Places by Gillian Flynn: I read this book 2 weeks ago, and I still think about it nearly everyday.
1.  The Fault in our Stars by John Green:  READ this!  Better than Love Story.

Feeling better!

 On Sunday, Harry perked up considerably.

He stopped needing morphine between doses of Ibuprofen, and he regained his appetite and his sense of humor.

Our parents all came to visit, and Harry scored some serious presents-- magic tricks galore and a couple of really cool Lego sets, plus balloons.  Ben and I took turns hanging at home and the hospital.  Dorothy was not allowed to sleep on the PICU, so she and I did days, and Ben stayed overnight.

I pretty much sat on the couch in Harry's room and fed the baby.  It was all nipples all the time unless she happened to be cool with the nursing cover, which I started using after Harry's teacher and librarian showed up because you never know who's going to pop into your room.

 Harry got rowdy Sunday night and started blatantly cheating at go fish

 Dorothy got some exercise, and I wish I could have joined her because I spent 12 hours sitting on a couch Friday, Saturday, Sunday, and Monday, unless I was pacing the halls which wasn't very often because hospitals are gross and I have a 6 week old. (see below).  The cardiologist apparently thought I was a total freaking moron because she told Harry's pediatrician that I was worried about my other kids catching whatever Harry had.  Um, no. I was, however, super nervous about toting Dorothy around the freaking PICU and kept asking everyone if she was OK to be there because I didn't/don't want my baby to get the plague.

 On Monday around 10:30, Harry called room service to order tea and a croissant.  He kills me.

 More! Nursing!

 See?

 We even switched sides.

 Our old college friends sent Harry an awesome care package.

 After one of the residents pulled Harry's chest drain (gross-- Harry was totally skeeved out by the way he could both hear and feel the tube coming out-- he tried to describe a whistling inside his body), we were unceremoniously booted out of the PICU and kicked up to the general peds floor where everyone kept trying to get us to check out the playroom, but all I saw was VIRUS! BACTERIA! RABIES!

 So we played Battleship instead.

 Harry is really going to miss room service.

 We colored, played some Go Fish, read the 4th Harry Potter book, had a nice visit from some friends.

 Marveled at how squishy our baby is.

After Ben came with Whole Foods deli dinner (oh my goodness-- we have been hitting WF 4 or 5 times a day because it is right by the hospital) and we all hung out for a bit, Dorothy and I went home.  I have had a normal routine day with the 3 little kids, while Ben and Harry languish in hospital limbo.  Harry should be home soon with a follow-up cardiology appointment for the precisely least convenient time of the week, when I will have no choice but to bring everyone there by myself.  So, look forward to hearing all about that.