Friday, April 12, 2013

This is Friday Night

This week has been rough.

Nothing's gone wrong, per se.  Aside from my children conspiring against Koby and me and planning our demise due to lack of sleep, we're fine. 

I've just realized that I'm one knee scrape away from a meltdown.

Knox and Hayes are both well (ish) but I've come to notice that my holding-it-together-ness can be broken apart at the tiniest cough, a sight of phlegm, or indeed, a knee scrape.  Earlier this week I thought Knox MAY have had the beginning of a staph infection (turned out to be a little knot leftover from his antibiotic shot a few weeks ago) and I actually thought I might lose my mind over it.  Seconds before finding the panic-inducing bump I was a normal, functioning female.  Post lump, my heart was beating fast and I was near Biblical mourning status.  Tearing of clothing, sprinkling of ashes, weeping and gnashing of teeth.  The works.  (I recovered in about 15 minutes after remembering the shot.  Awesome.  Didn't feel stupid at all.)

Hayes has been having some party time with his friend Nebulizer again to ward off any lung infections that might cause him to re-reschedule his MRI.  In similar panicky fashion, every time he coughs I see him as a five year old who hasn't been able to have his MRI yet because he can't go six full weeks without getting sick.  (Though he's currently listening to Ride of the Valkyries and kicking like a maniac, so I'd say he's fine.)

So, Hayes update:

MRI : rescheduled for April 19 due to Hayes' recent RSV.
ECI evaluation: April 16. (Explanation to follow.)

Keep prayin', y'all.



And he's five months old.  Hayes is getting stronger every day and is holding his head up more frequently and steadily.  He's still not sitting well but I know he'll keep making progress at his own pace.  The ladies at the daycare where I work love watching him get excited about the toys they put across his crib for him to see - they thing he's making progress too.  He's making better eye contact and his Lovie swears he's a little trickster and I agree!  He still loves to look at lights.  Next week he'll be evaluated by some professionals from the North Texas Rehabilitation Center for Early Childhood Intervention services.  I'm really excited to learn about the exercises, therapy, etc. that we'll be able to get for Hayes. 

But I really struggled with frustration this week because of related issues.  As a teacher who's sat in her fair share of ARD meetings (pardon my teacher-speak), I know firsthand that one would be hard-pressed to find a fiercer love than that of a parent.  Parents will be downright asses about their kids.  All is fair in love and free appropriate public education.  (Teachers, laugh with me.)  But really, I get it.  As a logical human, I know that Hayes Brandon Andrews, Texan, age 5 months, is not a likely priority to any other person not related to him.  I know that.

But I was still frustrated when I felt like I had to repeatedly call to make sure his paperwork was being sped along to its final destination to acquire these services.  These services that will HELP MY BABY BE ABLE TO SEE AND USE HIS MUSCLES, I emphasized in my mind.  I kept fighting this outrageous anger as I imagined someone neglecting his case information.  I realized that I, one who hates to be the 'squeaky wheel', am completely capable of being the 'full-scale tire blowout on the interstate while doing 75 in a 2000 Ford Explorer with Firestone tires' when it comes to my kids.  And I know that this side of crazy is lurking in any mother, in any parent, at any time.  My crazy just seems to be bobbing a bit closer to the surface these days.

Like I said, one knee scrape this side of a meltdown. 

We have another child too, we didn't forget.  His name is Knox and he is something else.  Things he's doing lately that I love or will love to remember (parents, you know what I mean):

  • When I kiss him all over his face he giggles and says "Moooooore??".  We do this over and over and over again.  Often.
  • When he would like to direct my path, he gets behind me (or anyone so silly as to be sitting when they should be doing his bidding) and pushes on my back with all his strength and says "Pooooooosh" (push)
  • He loves to say "No, don't" and "Stop it"
  • He calls strawberries 'strawbies' or 'chobbies' and the look of pure joy and ecstatic anticipation on his face as I hold one in front of his eyes is worth digging up the yard and planting a ginormous strawberry patch.
  • He sported the very closest hairstyle to a mullet he'll ever have today as (in my temporary insanity to get him to sleep) I gave him a haircut last night before bedtime.  Knox hates the clippers, so it was short-lived, but I think I may have cut down his nighttime sweating to a mere gallon last night from that alteration alone.
  • He has been off and on about the switch from crib to bed.  Very quickly he developed the at first cute, but then very annoying habit of standing by his bedroom door on the inside and saying "Knockkkkkk, knockkkk" when he wants out.
  • He loves to pray.
  • He is moody.  Or maybe just a toddler.
I won't make this a sap fest and keep going but I want to talk about Knox, too.  He's stepping up to the plate the best any (almost) twenty-one month old can.  He takes care of Hayes when he sees a need - often doing so in the most intuitive way, anticipating his brother's needs in advance.  Sometimes so far in advance that he'll shove a pacifier or bottle in Hayes' mouth while he's still sleeping, but whatever.  I love it because he sees his brother when he looks at Hayes, end of story.  He sees his baby, who needs milk and pacifiers and comfort and Knox wants to play with him.  He doesn't know that Hayes is behind on his gross motor skills.  He doesn't know that his brother can't read his facial expressions.  And yet he sees Hayes in his truest form - a baby brother needing to be loved, needing attention, needing care and Knox wants to give him all those things.  And fist bumps.

Here is Knox, with the unfinished haircut I gave him, talking about his unfinished haircut while getting a bath.