Another One Bites the Dust

The end of the year is always a busy time for our family.  Along with all the usual stuff - parties at school, chorus and band concerts, baking and shopping - we celebrate 2 birthdays, an anniversary, Christmas and New Year's in the space of 10 days.   

My oldest baby celebrated his birthday just before Christmas -he is now a teenager (all prayers accepted) - and the youngest baby turned 5 just before New Year's.  Five seems like such a significant age - it's a whole hand, after all - and P has taken to reminding us that she is now a Big Girl, not a baby.  I'm all for Big Girl.  She gave herself a bath yesterday, complete from starting the water to washing her hair, drying off, getting dressed and combing out her curls.  She did forget to the let the water warm up, so it was a cold bath, but whatever, she did it by herself.  

But despite wanting to be a Big Girl, I think P is coming to realize that it's not all it's cracked up to be.  She's hearing a lot of "you're a big girl now, you can sit through the prayer without talking," and the like.  Things we might have let slide when she was "little," are now being expected, just like we expect them of the other kids.  

Amidst all this hub-bub, J has been waiting to loose his first tooth.  It's been loose for a few months now, slowly wiggling, but showing no real signs of falling out.  Over the last week or so, though, it had made significant loosening progressing.  Enough that I, mean mommy that I am, have been hinting at pulling it. (A dangling tooth creeps me out, I'd rather pull it and be done with it. ) But J wanted to leave it alone, so we did.  

Until the inevitable happened . . . 

(Although it's not really, considering the number of times I've had to take a kid to the dentist to have a tooth pulled that would not come out.  C had 11 teeth pulled inside of a month because his baby teeth would not fall out, they just clung to the top of the adult teeth, blocking their way, until the orthodontist said enough was enough, and E has had a couple pulled because her top teeth seem to pull back into her gums instead of falling out when the root is gone.  Even M has had more than her share pulled in an effort to let the adult teeth come in straight until she's ready for braces.) 

Tonight J's tooth fell out.  The kids were running around waiting for dinner to be ready, when J stopped short and said something about his tooth.  I just a bit excited thinking her was ready to let me pull it, but NO! I had disappeared.

A search was begun and C found it on the rug and J is looking forward to the Tooth Fairy and projections were made on the amount that would be left.  C determined that, as it was a first tooth, J would get double the going rate (standard practice for first lost tooth), but seeing as there was no pain (teeth lost by tripping over an untied shoe lace*, or other such event, or requiring removal by a trained professional who sticks a long needle in your mouth and then yanks the teeth out with pliars, receive Trauma Pay), he would not receive any more than that.  

So another of my babies has taken another step in growing up.  He wanted to be measured again today, hoping that loosing a tooth would somehow make him taller. (He told be a few weeks ago, that even some of the kindergartners are taller than he is.) And then he asked when is the middle of the night.  I think he might be laying a trap for the Tooth Fairy.  I hope she's on the top of her game tonight.  

*One day, when C was in the 1st grade, I was on my way home from running errands with toddler twins in the back seat, when my cell phone rang.  My heart dropped when I saw the caller ID showed the school's phone number.  

"Hi, this is the school nurse.  I need to know if C had both of his top front teeth when he came to school this morning."

"Um, well they  were loose, but I'm pretty sure they were there. Why?"

"Well, because they aren't there now.  His shoe was untied on the walk out to the bus and another kid stepped on it and C tripped and now both front teeth are missing.  One of the teachers found one, but the other is unaccounted for."

True Story.  First grade teachers at the elementary school still tell the story as an example of why it is important to be sure your shoe laces are tied.  This was also the beginning of Trauma Pay.

Foreshadowing

P: When can I go over to C's (a friend from school)?

Me: I don't know, I'd have to call her mom.

P: I want to go to her house.  I like her brother.

I'm in so much trouble.

Her Logic is Sound

J and P have both reached a height, weight and maturity level that would qualify them to make the move from car seat to booster seat. I have resisted this move for many reasons.

At first is was just that I needed to wait for P to be mature enough to handle the switch because she was so close in size to J, that I couldn't really make the switch without switching both, but she wasn't old enough to handle the responsibility of sitting still without the restraining presence of the five-point harness.

Then my excuse was that I wasn't sure how to adjust the seating so that all the boosters (M and E are still in backless boosters) had shoulder belts, but there was still room for the fifth child to sit and everyone had easy access to the buckles. I still haven't completely resolved this, but I think I have a plan that will work.

Today, P put to rest my last excuse.

As she and J buckled themselves into the car P said, "You know mom, even if J and I get boosters, we'll still be your babies."

Sniff.

Bits and Pieces

* Three down, two (kids) to go. With the flu, that is. M and P went back to school today and E stayed home. The doctor's office was out of the flu test and the pharmacy is having to reorder the med for the second or third time this week. You could say the flu is going around. (I don't even want to think about what happens if this hits the three adults in the house.)

* After nearly two weeks, my master shower will be finished today and I'll be able to use it as early has tomorrow morning. It's so pretty and clean, I don't know if I want to use it. (Have I ever told you I'm a little obsessed with new?)

* J's separation anxiety continued into the beginning of school. On the first day of school he ran down the hall after me. Luckily for me he waited to do this until I was out of the building or I'd have lost it. On the second day of school he cried when I tried to leave him at the door to his classroom. It was traumatic enough that the teacher across the hall (who happens to be our neighbor) had to scoop him into his classroom so his teacher could close the door and I could leave. On the third day of school, I dropped him at the curb with a picture of me in his pocket (his request) and all was well. He took great care of that tiny picture for a few days and then it went through the washer. He has not asked for a replacement. (Is it okay that I'm a bit sad that he's over it?)

Conversation

Eight hours after he returned home from 5 days at Scout Camp, I had the following conversation with C.

Mom: Hey C, I'm going to the store. Do you want come?

C: I don't know. I don't have any money. Maybe . . .

Mom: You don't have to come with me, I just thought you might like to get out of the house.

C: I've been out of the house for a week. I think I'm good.

Have You Ever?

Realized that the way you have been doing a particular task for years - maybe decades - is not the right way? Learned that, despite having seen signs that maybe your way was not the accepted method, your method was not only wrong, but might have disastrous consequences? Accepted this new order of things only after having been confronted by an expert and performed an Internet search for verification? Come to realize that your incorrect method was due in part to never having been taught the correct way, but also due to the fact that you never made an effort to read the instructions?

Yeah, me either.

The Story of Two

Today we celebrate the birth of M and E. They are 9. The last year they will enjoy single digits. E asked me today what time she was born. I had to think about it. Is it bad that the thought process was something like this? Your dad said M was born at 11:17, but the doctors corrected him and said 11:16, you came 23 minutes later (yes that's a long time between twins, just enough time to run down the hall from delivery to OR for a c-section, yes that means I had one of each and yes, it was still easier than delivering C) so that means you were born at 11:39.

I find that I have a hard time remembering the details of the day they were born, so I'm going to write it down (no, I haven't written it down before now, yes, that makes me a bad mom).

M and E were due on July 10, but by doctors told me early on that they would not let me go a day past 39 weeks, just to be safe. My doctors were also quite surprised that I made it passed 38 weeks, so when I reminded them about their 39 week promise at my appointment eleven days before my due date (a Friday afternoon), I seemed to catch them a bit of guard. But the midwife quickly checked with the doctor and they agreed, not a day past 39 weeks, and checked the schedule for the following Monday. All booked up, they could not add another induction. So they checked Sunday and the doctor on call for Sunday was also on call that Friday night and said just send her over now. So off we went -- me, my mom and C -- to get checked in at the hospital. We called the Husband and he met us there.

It took a little while to get me in a room and the actual work of starting the induction didn't really get started until late that night. The nurses offered an epidural almost as soon as the started the pitocin. I don't know why I didn't take, but I didn't. As the contractions started to build I asked for something, got it and all was good, until I started to feel teh contractions but couldn't get the Husband's attention. I thought I was talking out loud, but apparently wasn't and he was asleep and didn't notice my pain. I was finally able to get his attention and he got the nurses and I got my epidural. And all was right with the world. I slept for several hours and then around 8 am, it looked like things were getting started. I called my mom and told her it was time and she should head to the hospital with C.

A little before 11, the nurses and midwife came in to transfer me to the OR, where they usually did twin deliveries, mostly because it was bigger, so there was more room for two sets of nurses and baby stuff, and a little bit for Just In Case. But then the doctor walked in and said, "We don't need to mover her, she's in the big delivery room. There's room for everyone." And then it was time to push and between contractions the doctor and midwife were discussing where they were going for lunch. It was quite surreal, espcially compared to the chaos that was C's delivery.

And then M was here and it was instantly obvious that she was destined to the older twin. We had decided as soon as we knew we had two girls that the oldest (Baby A, who had spent the entire pregnancy head down and claiming the first place in line) would be named after my mother's family and sure enough, she looked just like my mom's sister. 7 lbs 12.6 oz, 18 inches.

The midwife let me have a quick peek at M and then began checking on Baby B. I could see a flash of panic and she said, "I think I have cord." And I had visions of Nurse Hathaway's twin delivery on ER earlier that year, and well, if you've seen that episode you can imagine my own panic. The doctor took over and after a few minutes of feeling around decided, we were okay, it wasn't the cord, it was two hands and a foot. Baby B had folded in half, feet to face, and refused to stretch out. Although she wasn't in any distress, it was decided that it would be safer to proceed with a c-section rather than wait forever waiting for the baby to decide to stretch out and come out head first.

So the nurses and midwife packed me up and we did the quick run down the hall for a not-quite-emergency c-section. (Oh, the irony)

The new pain meds they put in my epidural made me shiver and shake until I was sure I was going to fall off the operating table. And then E was out and all was right with the world. I only got a quick peek at her before they whisked her away and stitched me back up. My first impression of E was that her cheeks almost met below her chin. She was all cheeks and looked like the Husband's side of the family. 7 lbs 13.6 oz, 18 inches.

I was in the recovery room for quite a while getting over the shaking, but finally made it up to my room where the girls were waiting for me, as well as C and my mom.

We came home from the hospital on July 4th. Best 4th ever!