Tired

My goodness yesterday was a long day! Timmy woke up at 3:45 in the morning for a bottle. After feeding him it quickly became clear that he was a bundle of happy energy ready to tackle the day.  Although I wasn't terribly optimistic, I did put my giggling and cooing little baby back in his crib with strict instructions to go back to sleep until the sun comes up. He was rescued 20 minutes later by his Daddy, who was concerned that the cooing would morph into cries if he didn't intervene.  Scott handed me the now wiggling baby and went back to bed.

Hamlet and I camped out in the living room while the rest of the family slept. Luckily he was content playing on the floor and in his activity centers while I desperately tried to inhale enough coffee to bring me back to life. I've come to the conclusion that he is a morning person; he does not get this trait from me!

After playing for five hours, Timmy finally fell asleep. Unfortunately he crashed about 10 minutes before I had to put him in his car seat to take Robby to school. He was not amused being woken up, and voiced his displeasure with my action for the next 45 minutes. Robby almost ran into his school simply to get away from the screaming.

The car seat episode set the tone for the rest of the day. Timmy was exhausted yet fought sleeping at every turn. He was no longer happy playing with his toys or jumping in his Jumperoo. Instead, he demanded to be held and carried. I spent the majority of the afternoon standing at my kitchen counter trying to work with him strapped to my chest.

I was overjoyed when he finally fell asleep, hoping that he would take a long nap and wake up in a better mood. I glanced at the clock after unstrapping him and lying him in his little bed. I wanted to bang my head against the wall! It was 2:15, and I was going to have to wake him up in 30 minutes to go pick up Robby from school.  I wanted to cry, but opted to use the time being productive. I raided Robby's Halloween candy and drank another cup of coffee.

A Little Late

It is hard to believe that my little Timmy will be seven months old this week. He is now a solid 16 pounds and 22 inches long. He is growing and learning new things every single day. Despite starting out with colic, he is probably the happiest baby I have ever met. I swear it feels like he is smiling from the moment I pick him up in the morning until I put him into his crib at night. 

The past seven months have been busy and difficult. It turns out that incorporating Timmy into our family structure was the easiest hurdle we encountered. Between my postpartum infections, my leg re-amputation and the hysterectomy, I have spent the majority of his young life in crisis mode. Finally things are beginning to settle down, allowing us time to relax and simply enjoy being a family.

We were so busy after Timmy was born that I never found time to send out a proper birth announcement. I toyed with the idea of just forgoing the gesture, but to be honest every time I thought about not doing it I felt sad. Timmy is such an important part of our family and I felt that he deserved a birth announcement, even if we are fashionably late in our timing. 

I am fully aware that I am going to receive criticism from some naysayers about the delay of our announcements. Our intention is to simply share our good news and some adorable photos with family and friends. He is a wonderful little miracle and I want to celebrate him, even if I am extremely late with the notice.

I meant to get them out sooner but never quite found the time. Yesterday as the cold rain was falling outside, I decided to curl up in front of the fireplace and start addressing envelopes. The announcements are going in the mail today, and I couldn't be happier with how they turned out. 

I would also be remiss if I didn't extend a special thank you to Mary, who is a reader of this blog. Mary lovingly crafted the outfit that Timmy is wearing in his announcement. I received her beautiful gift when things were becoming difficult with the pregnancy. I immediately knew that the baby, whether it be a boy or girl, would wear the outfit in the birth announcement photos.  My dear friend, an extremely talented graphic designer, managed to perfectly capture my vision for his special announcement.  Thank you Tammy for the beautiful design!

If you would like to receive an announcement, please email (amputeemommy@verizon.net) me your address.  I am so happy with how they turned out. In my opinion they were definitely worth the wait!

Horrible Moans

I know that growing up and becoming curious about the opposite sex is a normal part of childhood. I wish I could keep Robby and Timmy in little bubbles, keeping them little and innocent forever. As much as I love watching Robby grow and learn, watching him change from my little boy into a "big kid" is something I'm not sure I am ready to accept.  Of course, my inability to accept the inevitable is not going to keep it from occurring. 

A few days ago when I picked up Robby from school he immediately asked me the age of his cousin Tiffany. I sensed an unusual urgency in his voice so instead of asking why he wanted to know, I simply told him that she was ten years old. He became extremely serious and began to recount the details of his day.

"Momom, Kenny (name changed to protect the little cherub) brought in a book he got at the library. It was a secret book so we had to put it inside a notebook in order to read it. Did you know that Tiffany is going to start developing horrible moans soon? You need to call Nana right now and warn her. If she hears horrible moans coming out of Tiffany's room, whatever she does, she needs to stay away. Horrible moans means that she is going to start growing boobies and getting hair on her girl penis area." 

It took me a few minutes to realize that Robby misheard his friend. Horrible moans were actually hormones. Although, to be completely honest, his interpretation is probably just as correct.

Somehow I managed to keep both a straight path on the road and on my face as he frantically made his case about "horrible moans." The book his friend brought in details puberty and changing bodies. Obviously the boys weren't interested in what was going to happen to them and skipped straight to the female change section.  I really don't think I'm prepared for this stage!

I'm happy that he felt comfortable enough to talk to me about his new knowledge. Although he was wrong on a few of the details, the fact that he initiated an open dialog on the topic is a good sign. I tried to put a mask on the overwhelming sense of discomfort I felt talking to my little Koopa about changing bodies. Thankfully, he didn't want details; he was more interested in passing along the warning to his Nana.

I am really not looking forward to more discussions on horrible moans.

Comet

Although I am not sure the source, I absolutely love Robby's enthusiasm for science. Given the opportunity, he would habitually pick watching the Science Channel and various educational documentaries over cartoons. Needless to say, yesterday's landing on the comet really sent my little guy into a tailspin.

We have had the comet landing marked on our calendar for weeks. Yesterday morning he woke up grinning from ear to ear, proudly exclaiming that today he was going to witness history. He was especially impressed with the fact that landing on a comet was something that has never been achieved, hence it was "rare."  (Have I mentioned that he is into anything dubbed "rare" at the moment.) Robby walked into his school like a trumpeter heralding the comet landing. I was relieved to learn that his teacher had already rearranged the lessons for the day so that Robby and his class could watch the event.

After dropping him off I drove home and began working.  My phone rang at 10:45 and although I looked at the caller ID out of habit, I knew it was Robby's school.  Somehow my little guy convinced his teacher to grant him a phone call so that he could remind me of the landing. I assured him that I was watching, listened to him yammer about the "super duper rare event" that was about to occur before telling him to go back to class.

I have to admit that I have never been into astronomy, but I found myself excited and squealing when contact was established and the landing was confirmed. The fact that a small vehicle could intersect with a moving comet, 4 billion miles away, is simply awe inspiring. I cannot even fathom the intellect required to tackle such an seemingly unattainable goal. The engineers' mothers must be so proud of their sons and daughters!

Within minutes of the landing my phone rang again. Robby's teacher was laughing on the other end of the receiver. She explained that Robby had worked the class into a near frenzy state as the expected landing time approached.  According to his teacher, Robby erupted with cheers and fist bumps when communication was established.  Within moments the rest of the students followed suit, participating in Robby's comet celebration.  (Note to self: make the teacher another batch of brownies. She deserves them!)

Robby was simply gleeful when his teacher handed him the phone. I had no doubt that he was genuinely excited about what has been accomplished. I'm so happy that science, engineering and math excite him. Who knows, perhaps someday he will be overseeing his own rocket exploration missions. 

Vacation Day

Yesterday was nice but chaotic. I have come to rely upon my routine, and the disruption of having everybody at home on a Tuesday sent everything into a tailspin. I enjoy having a full house, but it certainly complicates things on my end.

After struggling against the constant interruptions, I finally surrendered to the fact that I wasn't going to get much work done. I shut off my computer and resolved myself to an early morning to catch up on my projects. In the meantime, I vowed to make the most of having everybody home. 

Before going to breakfast, Robby asked if he could post on my Facebook page. I allowed him access with the caveat that I would immediately delete anything inappropriate. The little guy worked for about 10 minutes until he deemed it perfect.  "Hi. This is Robby. Today is momoms walking day. Momom is a good mom. Walking with a prosthetic is rare. That makes her special. I am lucky since she is rare. We are going to eat at ihop. bye"  Needless to say, I allowed it to stay on my wall. 

I love that Robby is proud of me. He is at an age where he is beginning to appreciate my prosthetic use and the difficulties I have encountered. He is also in a phase where he is impressed by anything that he deems rare.  I am happy that, in this situation, I fit the bill!

My impromptu vacation day was wonderful. I was able to go for a long walk through the neighborhood with Robby and Timmy before going out for a nice dinner. I know that I'll have to work twice as hard today to catch up, but it will be worth it.  Sometimes, everybody needs to unplug- including this "rare" Momom. 

Walking Day!

Life is full of somber remembrances. From the day of my original accident to the final amputation, try as I might I can't forget the dates. It is nice to finally have a date to celebrate. Today is my Walking Day!

Eleven years ago I took my first steps (literally and figuratively) into my new life as an amputee. I was unsure about everything, from how my body moved and looked to how the prosthetic felt and worked. Somehow in that small little room, I managed to summon my courage, put down the crutches and put my first foot forward.

Within mere minutes I was walking again. It wasn't pretty, but it was functional and without crutches. I felt like WonderWoman overpowering the fiercest foe. I've had a few setbacks in the past eleven years, but despite everything I have kept moving forward.

Today I celebrate everything that I have accomplished. Learning to walk with a prosthesis is an empowering experience. No matter what life throws at me, I simply need to remember the uncertainty that I felt and I am reminded about the depth of my strength. Eleven years ago today I have learned that I am stronger than I realized, and that I am a fighter. 

Happy Walking Day to me!

Another Poop Blog (of sorts)

Well, my weekend aspirations of rest, recuperation and rejuvenation never materialized. Although I thoroughly enjoyed visiting with my Mom, I ended up being busier and more stressed than I had anticipated. My sister's three children were home from school and I love them all dearly, but wow they can be a handful! They weren't necessarily bad, they just produce a whirlwind of constant commotion that is foreign for me. I honestly don't know how my Mom is able to do it!

In the middle off the kid tornado, Timmy acquired a tummy bug. He was producing copious amounts of diarrhea, habitually soaking through his diapers and clothing every two hours. When he wasn't experiencing a fecal explosion, he was happy and content, but everything changed when the cramping returned. 

Although dealing with the mess (and there was a lot of it) was frustrating, I felt horrible for my little Timmy. As the issue crept into the third day I began to worry. Once prolific vomiting entered the mix, I knew that dehydration was a real danger. I called his pediatrician who encouraged me to take him to the ER.  I packed up Robby and his bum sore little brother and began what turned into an extremely long drive back to VA. Thankfully we didn't hit traffic, but we did have to stop several times for baby wardrobe changes.

As it turns out, instead of chilling out with my Mom, my Saturday night was spent with Timmy as he experienced his first ER visit. I hated that he was at the hospital, but his lips were already becoming chapped and no home remedies were providing relief. After demonstrating the viciousness of his ailment by thoroughly dousing the doctor (and her assistant) while they were trying to take a rectal temperature, the examination and treatment moved quickly. He was given something to calm his little tummy, fluids to replenish what was lost and we were sent home with the warning that the diarrhea could persist for another 2-5 days. 

So, the next few days I will continue to delve into the not so glamorous side of motherhood as I contend with vomit and poop simultaneously.  He has a fever but continues to remain relatively happy. Seeing him smile through his diaper changes certainly helps to soften the disgust element of the task at hand.  Fingers crossed that this doesn't spread to anybody else in the family.