erbie: (earth)
The bear. What is that little fly-thing? I saw it. [The dragonfly at the restaurant?] No, the fly-thing here. I don't like Sunny Patch, cause it has bugs. I don't like bugs that are real.

One time there was a dragonbug. And then there was a silly eyeball bug. Then there was a curtain ring bug. And then there was spot bugs. And then they were some butterfly bugs. And then they were some hambugs. [ham bugs?] Hand bugs. Mano bugs. (Goes off into a tangent in Spanish about pinatas that I didn't quite follow.) Then there was a pinata hanging on a branch with a rope holding onto it, tied up on a branch. The end.

ETA: This is a story from the mind of an almost four year old. The comments [in square brackets] are me talking and the parentheticals are narration.
erbie: (earth)
I think the cutest mispronunciation that Edgar does is how she says forget and forgot. She says "awfohget" and "awfohgot." We used to think she was saying "I fohgot" but she will say "I awfohgot." [livejournal.com profile] llnaughty wants to correct her, but I won't let him. It's about the last thing she says that's not correct pronunciation. I'll miss it when it's gone.
erbie: (earth)


Today is (was) the day of Fight for Preemies, a day dedicated to raising awareness of premature birth. It's the newest Hallmark Holiday. I'm sure they're busily at work on appropriate cards.

Here are two posts from blogs that I read. Both are moms of preemies, the second a micropreemie. They are good. Go read them.

A Little Pregnant

Flotsam

There are so many reasons babies are born prematurely in the US and worldwide. 20 million babies are born too soon worldwide, every year. I think everyone who reads my journal knows that my second child was one of that number in 2006. I had a placental abruption, an emergency c-section, and a baby born at 32 weeks, 1 day gestation and 3 lbs, 11 oz. I had steroids onboard for about 12 hours before she was born, not nearly the 48 hours they wanted. The first day she was there, she was intubated and surfactant was pumped into her lungs to open them so she could breathe, surfactant that was developed thanks directly to the March of Dimes. They funded research in the 1980s and surfactant has decreased deaths from Respiratory Distress Syndrome-a label that was applied to my daughter-tenfold. She, quite simply, would very likely not have made it if not for the March of Dimes.

Even after 61 days in the NICU, RDS, sepsis, reflux, fears of NEC, weeks and weeks of bradys and apneas, watching her stop breathing, hearing the monitors go off, seeing her change color, sitting her up and rubbing her back to remind her to breath, and at least one time when I walked into the NICU in the morning and the nurse told me she'd almost lost her an hour before, I *know* that we are some of the lucky ones. Our daughter is alive, and is mostly unscathed by her experience. We may yet find out that there are lingering issues. I can't imagine life without this child, and I came so close to losing her, and so close to going right along with her. I didn't realize the graveness of the danger we were both in until much later. I didn't realize how very very serious the sepsis was. I didn't know how close I came to losing her so many times. If not for knowledge gained directly from March of Dimes research, I likely would have. I can't wrap my head around that.

I don't really have a way to wrap this up. If you're so inclined, a donation to the March of Dimes would help them continue research into the causes and problems of prematurity. I thank all the donors whose generosity saved my daughter's life.
erbie: (smilecat2)
Edgar: I want to watch Blue's Clues. I want this. I want that. I want seaweed.
Me: Anything else?
Edgar: I want seaweed.
Me: I want a million dollars.
Edgar. *I* want a million dollars. And seaweed.

Heh.
erbie: (wtfcat)
This morning, walking down the path to daycare:

Edgar: Where are we going?
Me: You're going to see [caregiver] and I'm going to go to work
Edgar: Because your jelly will spill?
Me: Um...yeeeaaah.
erbie: (Default)
So we had Edgar's birthday party on Sunday. I made a rainbow cake. Behold its food-coloring-y goodness!

Pre-baking:

Do you like my kitchen? I have no counterspace, so I had to pull out a drawer to rest it on to take the pic.

Post-baking:

Note once again that it is not sitting on a counter, but on a pull-out cutting board.

Mid-frosting:

Still life with tomatoes and olive oil.

Note the smears of frosting on the table and the random crumbs all over the place.


The final product:


I ran out of white frosting with no time to make more, so I couldn't do what I'd been intending to do, which was put big globs of it on the end to be clouds. So instead, it just looks stupid on that part. But the rest, I think, looked great.
erbie: (Edgar Eye)
Happy Birthday to my baby girl. You are three years old today.

All day today, I've been thinking about where I was at this time three years ago.

When I woke up, briefly, at 4:45 am, I thought about how that was the time I woke up three years ago to go to the bathroom and two minutes later was screaming for Daddy to call the doctor and get me to the hospital because I was bleeding lots of bright red blood and knew there was something terribly wrong.

When I got up for the day, I thought about how I was already in the hospital at that time, not sure what the day would bring.

When I was frosting your cake, I thought about how I was trying to get some work done on my laptop while lying in bed because I'd just been told that I wasn't leaving the hospital until you were born and I expected that to be at least a few weeks and hopefully closer to six or seven.

When your party was in full swing, I thought about how at the same time three years ago, I was having an ultrasound by one of the pre-eminent perinatalogists in the country and how he told me I had a very small bit of placenta lifting up from the uterus, but it was nothing to worry about and I'd have to have compression stockings up to my mid-thighs so I didn't get blood clots because I wasn't getting out of bed for the foreseeable future.

When we were packing up after your party, I thought about how this was the time when the nurse came in and told me that she'd seen on the monitor that I was having an abruption, and she had called my doctor who was on her way there to perform the c-section that would hopefully save your and my lives.

When we got home, Daddy and I were resting and quietly talking about how at that time, I was being prepped for surgery and he was in the room we'd been in all day, alone, in his paper scrubs, waiting for them to call him to come into the OR.

Half an hour later, I thought about how that was the precise time that they took you from me, dried you off, gave you some oxygen, wrapped you up, walked you over to my head and said "Hi Mommy!" and then whisked you away. I wouldn't see you again for another four hours. Daddy went with you and I was alone in the OR, with two surgeons working on me, an anesthesiologist keeping me numb and calm, and several nurses. A few minutes after Daddy left, I couldn't swallow and the anesthesiologist made me squeeze a ball in my right hand. He told me afterward that if I hadn't been able to do that, he'd have had to have intubated me right then.

At six, I thought about how I was in Recovery, and my cousin sat on the foot of my gurney, perhaps on my legs. I couldn't feel it, but I laughed as I teased him about it. Under the teasing and laughing there was a deep worry and almost a refusal to think about where you were and what was happening. There were about ten family members there in the hallway and they only let two or three in to see me at a time. When my aunt came in, she told me congratulations on the arrival of my baby girl, and the sound of it felt wrong to me. This was nothing to be happy about! You were supposed to be in my womb another two months. This was nothing to offer congratulations about. The congratulations should have been saved for when you came home. THAT was a happy day.

Right now, I was still in recovery, starting to get the feeling back below my ribs, freezing and itching from the drugs that had been injected into my spine. I still didn't know how you were and I wouldn't get to see you for another two hours, after everyone had left and they wheeled me into the NICU on my gurney. The entire time we were in the NICU I never saw them do that with another mother. It's not very sanitary. I found out from the nurses in the NICU later that they did that because I had lost a lot of blood and they were worried that I wouldn't make it.

Two hours from now, I was wheeled into the NICU to see you. You were so tiny. I'd never seen a baby that small! I was able to touch your toes and talk to you for a couple of minutes before they took me to my maternity ward room. You were intubated because you'd had a little respiratory distress and you needed surfactant to help your lungs stay inflated. You had an umbilical line, heart monitors, and a temperature monitor attached. You looked like a fetus, because that's what you really were. A 32-week fetus.

And today, you are three years old. You're a funny, sweet, delightful child who takes joy in everything around her. You adore your sister and I love seeing the two of you play together and hug and kiss each other. You're small for your age, both actual and adjusted, but you make up for it with enthusiasm and sunshine. You're hitting all your developmental milestones on time or even early. People frequently ask me how old you are and marvel when I tell them because your verbal abilities make them think you're much older. You have curly hair, which I never expected! You charm and delight everyone you meet.

I love you my darling baby. Happy birthday!
erbie: (Default)
In the car:

NPR: Blah blah blah President Obama blah.
Edgar: Oh! Barack Obama! Barack Obama! He's my fravorite in the whoooole world! Barack Obama! I LOVE him!
erbie: (Edgar Eye)
Dear Edgar,

I realize you've been sick and you're not feeling 100% better. However, I'd appreciate it if you would sleep in til 8 and refuse to wake up before that on SATURDAY AND/OR SUNDAY rather than during the week. On Saturday and Sunday, six a.m. is not something I want to see.

Thank you,
Your sleepy Mama
erbie: (Edgar Eye)
As previously noted, Edgar has something wrong with her arm. We're not sure what. She has a blus cast on it and seems to be improving. In any case, the cast seems to make her more comfortable. She gets it removed next Tuesday and we'll see if there's anything else needed.

She's had another language explosion lately and is forming far more complex sentences than she was even two weeks ago. And her thinking seems to be a lot more complex than previously as well.

She's a big goofball, as ever. She keeps us laughing most of the time.

Potty training is going. She loves to take off her diaper as soon as we put it on and she will usually pee if we put her on the toilet. Like her sister, she will not use a potty. She will often tell us she has to pee, but when we remove her diaper, we find that she already has. I'd say she's halfway there at this point. No rush.

She's still pretty petite. She wears 18-24 month pants and anything from 12-18 to 2T in tops. She's a little smaller than her sister was at this age, but not much. We have the same issues with finding pants that are long enough that will stay up. 12-18 seems to be the best waist size, but 2T seems to be the best length. At least with dresses we can do 2T. She has strong opinions on what she will and won't wear. Overalls are not a favorite, though I was able to put some on her this morning with no comment and no struggle. I like overalls, because she can't take them off by herself.

Edgar and her sister continue to get along well most of the time. The times they don't are usually related to Edgar destroying something of Bob's and then it's all "I hate you! You're the meanest person in the world!" Bob is finding out that the things she says to her sister come back and bite her in the ass sometimes, as she will sometimes hear that sentiment right back at her. Bob is also finding out that almost-three-year-olds are less amenable to sharing their toys, especially when five minutes previously, you yanked one of your toys out of their hands. Bob is also learning to put her stuff up higher or in drawers. ;) But generally, they have a very sweet relationship. They hug and kiss each other all the time. When Bob is upset about something, Edgar is very concerned and will try to comfort her. She seems to know when to stay away as well. She doesn't seem at all bothered by her sister's mood swings, which can be pretty sudden and pretty loud.

Edgar LOVES chocolate. The only time we ever use bribes is when there's medicine involved that must be gotten into the child. Edgar had a raging ear infection a couple weeks ago and didn't care for the taste of Augmentin, even mixed with apple sauce. So we gave her a small piece of dark chocolate to eat after each dose of her medicine. Then the other night, she had some applesauce because she was still hungry at bedtime, and as soon as she finished, she asked for chocolate. Heh.

She continues to be an avid nurser. Every morning and every evening she nurses. She sleeps pretty much through the night, waking usually some time between 5:00 and 6:30 am to nurse and then snooze until 7 or so.

Her hair is still curly and fine. It's about the color of my childhood hair, lightish brown, with some blonde highlights. (Bob has red highlights in her dark brown hair.) I love her curls and I hope they stay when her hair is more mature. It's still very baby-fine and not as thick as Bob's.

Edgar gets very excited about things and is easily amused. The other night, it was me sticking out my tongue at her and trying to talk that had her cackling her head off. Other times there's no discernible cause for her mirth. She's a goofy, happy kid.
erbie: (Default)
Edgar: Mama, say [gruff voice] "What's! So! funny?! Ha! Ha! Ha!"
Me: [guff voice] What's! So! funny?! Ha! Ha! Ha!"
Edgar: Noting. I'm just laughing. Ha ha ha ha ha!
erbie: (Edgar Eye)
Conversations with a two year old

"We have to go to seep. It's pweven o'clock."

Upon leaving Bob's friend's house the other evening, walking out the door before Bob and Daddy:
"Oh! I fohgot my...my Daddy!"

Staying up WAY too late the other night and Daddy was trying to sing to her to get her to sleep:
"Um, Pe, um, Daddy? Rainbow Connection is nice, but..."
He got through one verse of Rainbow Connection before that happened. Unfortunately, we giggled and she asked us what was funny and lost her train of though. The little diplomat!

This morning, right after Daddy and Bob left for Bob's class:
"Where are my kids?"
"Your kids? Who are your kids?"
"My Daddy and my [Bob's real name].
erbie: (wtfcat)
More fun with Edgar

Edgar: [standing in front of the mirror to see her outfit] (yes, it starts this early!)
Edgar: Hi. I'm [Edgar's Real Name].
Edgar: And dis is my mom. [Erbie's Real Name]. Are you like her?
Edgar: Hi. I'm [Edgar's Real Name].
Edgar: And dis is my mom. [Erbie's Real Name]. Are you like her?


Standing next to me while I type this:
Edgar: I'm looking at this. It's broken. Can you tink about it?

Later, sitting on my lap:
Edgar: Mama, I love you SUPER-much!
erbie: (Edgar Eye)
This morning in the [livejournal.com profile] erbie/[livejournal.com profile] llnaughty household:

Erbie: [standing in the bathroom doorway, putting on her shirt]
Edgar: [rubbing the top of Erbie's foot with the bottom of her own]
Erbie: What are you doing to my foot?
Edgar: I'm just rubbing it.
Erbie: You're just rubbing it?
Edgar: Yeah. Because I love you!

Doesn't that just melt your heart?
erbie: (wtfcat)
Upon being put down (I thought asleep) on the couch last night:
Edgar: [sleepy voice] Mama, don't leave me.
Erbie: Okay. I won't leave.
Edgar: [fading] Stay with me.
Erbie: I'm here.
Edgar: [almost out] Stay.

Upon awakening this morning:
Edgar: Mama, you my BEST friend!
Erbie: I am? What about Daddy?
Edgar: Daddy is my Dobie.

She called him her Dobie all day.

At the restaurant:
Erbie: Is Daddy your Dobie?
Edgar: No, DADDY IS A PENIS! DADDY IS A PENIS!

Upon having her diaper changed:
I'm pausing my poop!
erbie: (Edgar Eye)
This morning, on the way to daycare:

Edgar: I want your eyes and you have my eyes.
Erbie: Okaaaay.
Edgar: Give me your eyes.
Erbie: ...
Edgar: GIVE ME YOUR EYES!
Erbie: You can't have my eyes. How will I see?
Edgar: GIVE ME YOUR EYES!
Erbie: Okaaaaay. Here. [reaches back and taps her hand]
Edgar: Thank you Mama.
Erbie: You're welcome. [under breath] ya freak!
Edgar: [sing-song] I got your Nooo-ooose!
Erbie: Oh no! How will I breathe?
Edgar: You have my nose. Here!
Erbie: [reaches back and Edgar taps her hand] Oh, okay, I'll use your nose. Thanks. Oh, it's cute!
Edgar: No! Take it off! You no can use my nose!
Erbie; [o_0] Why not?
Edgar: It's too little!
Erbie: Okay. I took it off. Now I can't breathe.
Edgar: You no need to breav.
Erbie: Oh.
Edgar: Okay. Here your nose. You give me my nose back now.
Erbie: [taps her hand] Here you go.
Edgar: Thank you! Here your eyes. You give me my eyes now too.
Erbie: [taps her hand] Here you go.
Edgar: Oh! Thank you Mama! You put your eyes back now?
Erbie: Yes, I put my eyes back.
Edgar: Oh.
Edgar: This is my chin. You see it?
Erbie: [debates going through explaining once again that eyes must stay on the road. discards that option.] Oh, yeah, I see it.
Edgar: Where is your chin?
Erbie: It's right here. [points]
Edgar: Oh. It's on you face?
Erbie: Yep. Right where it always is.
Edgar: Huh?
Erbie: [never learns] Yes, it's on my face.
Edgar: Oh.
erbie: (beeker)
Walking through Target, pushing Edgar in the cart.
Erbie: [thinking] Hmm, those coats look kinda nice. Ooh! $20! Score!
Edgar: Oh shit!
Erbie: [looks around sheepishly to see if other shoppers heard her two year old cursing like a sailor.]
Edgar: Shit! Oh SHIT!
Erbie: [tries to suppress embarrassed giggles while high-tailing it to another part of the store]
Edgar: Dammit!
erbie: (Edgar Eye)
I am happy to report that Edgar received a (mostly) clean bill of health at the ophthalmologist's yesterday. Two and a half hours spent there, eyes dilated and looked in, vision tested, and the only thing of any concern is astigmatism in both eyes. She has binocular fusion unlike Mama, does not have strabismus unlike Mama, though I will note I'm in good company, can see with 3D glasses unlike Mama, and most importantly, does not have Retinopathy of Prematurity. Given the length of time she was on oxygen, I was a little worried about that. She is a little farsighted. The astigmatism is normal for a child of her age, as is the farsightedness. She will likely grow out of both and will be seen again in a year to check on her progress.

Last week, I realized that I had been noticing an odd smell on her breath for a few weeks. I took her in to see the ped and they did a bunch of blood tests. Her kidney and liver functions all came back normal, as did her iron and everything else they test for in a CBC. This sheds no light on the breath thing. Before you comment and tell me to have her checked for diabetes, be assured that that was part of the blood tests and she shows no other symptoms of diabetes. It's also not a fruity odor, it's pretty much exactly what green olives smell like. It has persisted for several weeks. I posted about it on a couple of my email lists and I got one very interesting reply back from a mom who had a child about the same age as Edgar, who had also been a preemie. She asked me if Edgar had ever had TPN, which she had. She told me that her child had as well and after noticing a strange smell on his breath at around two years old, she did a bunch of research and ended up having him tested for aluminum toxicity. He was toxic for aluminum and is now having chelation therapy to remove it and has shown marked improvement in his health and development. the only symptom she noticed was the weird breath, which she said smelled like vinegar, so similar to the green olive smell Edgar has. TPN has a lot of aluminum in it, as do the vaccinations babies receive. She sent me a link to an article by Dr. Bob Sears discussing aluminum and the lack of studies done on safe levels, especially for babies. Preemies have compromised kidney function and therefore may have more trouble than a healthy baby eliminating aluminum. So I will be speaking with the ped and asking for a hair strand test for aluminum toxicity. The fun never ends when you have a preemie, I tell you. Just when you start to get comfortable and think that your child is FINALLY, FINALLY out of the woods, at no more risk than a term kid her age, something else comes up that throws you back into the cycle of worry-worry-worry.

In other Edgar news, she is growing like crazy. I marked her height in the doorjamb and looked at the previous markings. Since we started marking her in January of this year, she's grown about four inches. She's grown about two inches since August alone! Maybe she won't be the teeniest one in her Kindergarten class.

Her speech is growing by leaps and bounds. I wish I could record the conversations we have in the car on the way in to daycare in the mornings. This morning she told me that the doctor needed to touch me, but it was okay, she would hold me and feed me candy, here's another one, and another piece! (I had Smarties and stuck them in her mouth one ofter the other while the blood draw was going on, since sugar can help small kids deal with pain. Learned it in the NICU!) She's processing the stuff that she's been through in the last two weeks with the blood draw (very traumatic) and the eyedrops (omg, world-ending! so much worse than blood draw!) to dilate her eyes yesterday. I talked to her about how sometimes doctors need to look at our bodies or we have to do something that hurts so that we can make sure our bodies are okay.

Her abstract thinking is astonishing us. She extrapolates things where we'd never expect it from a toddler her age. I can't think of any examples, but it happens daily. She is also a total clown. She'll spew a series of musical notes and then when I copy them, she wags her finger at me and says "Nonononono. Like DIS!" and then does a different series. Repeat as long as I keep copying her. I never get it right. Heh.

She continues to have a wonderful relationship with her sister, though she does abuse her terribly sometimes. Bob never ever retaliates, though I do have to remind Bob that she can move away from Edgar when she hits her or pulls her hair instead of sitting there and crying while Edgar does it again. They adore each other. Edgar gets jealous when I hug Bob or stroke her hair. When Edgar hits Bob, I've started paying attention to Bob, making sure she's okay, instead of telling Edgar not to hit her sister. Edgar is not pleased with this change in procedure.

She's not at all interested in using the potty. She loves being bare-butt, but has not done any elimination in the potty. She did poop on the floor once though. ;)

She runs and jumps and tries to hop on one foot. She climbs stairs without assistance and often without holding onto the railing. She can't wait til she's big enough to ride Bob's old bike.

She had almonds for the first time yesterday and loved them. I only gave her three halves, so I could monitor for any reaction. There was none, so I'll let her have a few more tonight.

She has a full head of curly light brown hair with reddish highlights. She looks a lot like her daddy, even moreso than Bob does, and sometimes I wonder if there's any of me in there, but the curly hair is from my dad.

She's happy all the time, goofy, funny. She continues to be an utter delight.
erbie: (wtfcat)
Overheard in the Erbie household:

Erbie: [is sitting at the desk randomly checking blogs and stuff]
Edgar: [is sitting on Erbie's lap, facing her]
Edgar: [sings] Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb. Mary had a little [stops] Mama!
Erbie: Heh
Edgar: YOU sing Mary had a little lamb.
Erbie: I don't want to sing Mary had a little lamb. YOU sing it.
Edgar: [brandishes index finger in Erbie's face] Actually, YOU sing it.
erbie: (wtfcat)
More hilarity from Edgar:

Me: [is stopped at a light, ready to turn right]
Light: [changes]
Me: [turns the corner and accelerates to about 30 mph]
Edgar: MAMA! No go faster! You going too faster! You going too faster!
Me: I'm not going that fast, Baby.
Edgar: No Mama! Slow down! Slow down! No go faster!
Me: Okay, I'll slow down. [stops at next light]
Edgar: Oh! Cank you Mama.

Profile

erbie: (Default)
erbie

February 2011

S M T W T F S
  12345
6789101112
1314151617 1819
20212223242526
2728     

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 21st, 2017 08:36 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios