Big Girl in Braids

This morning our little 14 month old baby turned into a little girl after I put her in braids for the first time.
How does she grow up so fast?!

Halloween

Is just so much more fun when you have a little girl to share it with.

Ready to Read

I've decided to set aside some time each day to read through the winter. My focus right now, for obvious reasons, is parenting. I'll be the first to admit I have no idea what I'm doing - I'm open to any and all advice on the matter. Thus far I've asked some of my favorite people about the books they recommend. My list is growing - please add to it!

A shout out to being able to escape and unwind in the world of TV

Note: Top Ten List created by Melissa. Brent wants to make it clear that he has his own list.


1. Lie to Me


2. GLEE


3. (coming again soon): Friday Night Lights


4. Community


5. So You Think You Can Dance


6. 30 Rock


7. The Mentalist


8. The Office


9. Smallville


10. (and yes, one for learning about time outs) . . . Supernanny

Desperate for White

Having a baby in the house has caused quite a learning curve with laundry. Naturally, even with the most delicate care, by the end of the day, Brooklynn's shirts are filthy. 7:30 PM means peeling off the sweet potato and honey baked layers and dropping them into the laundry basket.
I've done everything I can think of to get the whites to go back to white. I've tried the remedies that people swear by - oxyclean, bleach, pre-soaking and no-drying . . . . to no avail.
There are just stains that WILL NOT be removed. It seems each "new" shirt from Kid to Kid is ruined after the first time she wears it - what I can't figure out is how the people who sold the shirt to the Second Hand store got it looking brand new . . . how come I can not reproduce this miracle?!
I'm at the point where I'm beginning to think the problem is our 1980's washer that only works if the door is propped shut with a jimmy-rigged system that we've created. I know. I can't wait for the day that we can be more eco-friendly and wash clothes in the newest front load washer. Until then, I'm reaching out for some help on the matter. Any ideas on how to beat the stains?!!

Diagnosed!!

"Roseola often starts with a sudden high fever [103 F to 105 F] that lasts 2 to 3 days, although it can last up to 8 days. The rapid increase in temperature may be the first sign of roseola and often occurs before you realize that your child has a fever. The fever ends suddenly. After the fever ends, a rosy-pink rash may appear mostly on the trunk (torso), neck, and arms. The rash is not itchy and may last 1 to 2 days. In rare cases, a sore throat, stomach ache, vomiting, and diarrhea occur. A child with roseola may appear fussy or irritable and may have a decreased appetite, but most children behave almost normally. The roseola rash will go away without medical treatment. Roseola mostly spreads from infected people who don’t show symptoms. It is generally a harmless viral infection."

Yesterday a light rash started to appear on Brooklynn's chest and throat, ironically about an hour before our follow up appointment with our pediatrician. Dr. Vandenberghe took about 30 seconds looking her over and declared "I'm 95% sure that she has this virus". I was so incredibly relieved to hear a diagnosis and to know she was going to be perfectly healthy again in just a few days. We go in for one last blood test on Friday just to make sure her blood count has gone back to normal. The doctor says not to worry about this, it's just precaution.
Yeah for Doctors! Yeah for awesome pediatricians who care! Yeah for Brooklynn who is a brave little girl and who pulled through it like a champ. She's sleeping sweetly as we speak - cute little doll.
Thanks again everyone for all of your concern and empathy. One ER hurtle down! (hopefully not many more to go).

Our Wild Weekend of Horror

At 10 PM on Sunday night Brent and I finished a movie and headed upstairs to bed. We heard Brooklynn awake in her room, so I went in to check on her because she'd been feeling pretty sick for two days. The minute I picked her up I knew something was terribly wrong - her head was on fire and her body limp. She kept her eyes shut as I lay her down to check her temperature, rolling her head around as she moaned.
The thermometer read 105.8
I yelled to Brent to get a cold wash rag and immediately started stripping the clothes off her body. We rushed her outside into the car and up to the ER as I called the doctor on call from my cell phone. When we got to the hospital I stood in line, anxiously looking at the room FULL of sick kids, wondering how long our wait would be.
"How may I help you" the receptionist looked at me from her desk.
I quickly described our problem. "a hundred and what?!" she quickly stood up from her desk and motioned us to come back to be seen immediately.
Within minutes they had IV's pumping into our little baby's body, with monitor patches all over her chest and alarms beeping away. They later told me that their chart that converts from Fahrenheit to Celsius for fevers did not even go up as high as she was registering.
We got to the hospital at 10:15 PM, and spent a total of 6 hours taking and waiting for tests in the ER. Brooklynn wasn't old enough to understand what was happening, but she learned quickly that she didn't like the people wearing the color green. She started saying her first version of "no", every time they entered the room she would look at Brent and I, and say over and over "Na Na Na", shaking her head. When that didn't work she started waving "bye bye" to all the nurses and doctors when they entered the room, I'm sure wishing they would take the hint. She cuddled her blankee, eyes red, as they kept running tests.
It broke my heart to hold her as they pushed tubes down her nose and needles into her arms over and over for blood tests. They did X-Rays and Urinary tract catheters, swabbing this and swabbing that.
It was the longest night of our lives.
At 5 AM, after virtually no sleep and a stressful night of "what if's" they decided to admit us because her white blood cell count was abnormal and they wanted to keep her for observation. After filling out more forms, Brent left us to go home, and I shut off the blazing white hospital lights in our new room. It was 6 AM, our baby had been awake longer than she has ever been awake, and through all those hours endured a lot of painful experimentation. She held onto me like a scared little monkey, wrapping her arms around my chest and through her tubes, holding on tight.
I lay down on the hard cot provided for me in the room, and sang her lullaby after lullaby. Brooklynn and I slept on and off for the next 4 hours, often waking up to her whimpering or to one of the machines erupting in beeps, followed by nurses coming in to check her vitals. As she lay there on my chest hour after hour, I loved her more than I ever had before. That night, within just a few minutes, every other detail in my life melted away and my whole world become my little girl. Instantly I had perspective on what matters - nothing could have come between me and my baby. I lay there and thought of God's love, and how he must feel watching us go through the crappy parts of life.
When I wasn't sleeping I watched the numbers on the monitor above us, her heart beat coloring the screen. Her first tests showed her heart rate at 221. Normal baby hearts pump at 120. It was horrifying to watch, heart-breaking to go through, and so exhausting overall.
The next morning she sat up, crying and moaning and looking at her paw all wrapped up in tape so she couldn't pull off the IV again, looked at me with those big eyes and said in the softest voice "Dada." I called Brent and he came up immediately to hold his little girl close.
Yesterday they let us go, on the condition that we live close by and that we could get back quickly if anything went wrong. Brent and I pleaded with them to let us out because we were confined to 1 room. When Brooklynn was on meds she was going CRAZY wanting to run around, which the tubes didn't let her do (she succeeded in pulling out one IV - blood everywhere - and they had to re-do it), and when she wasn't on meds she was miserable, throwing her body around without consolation.
I knew going home would mean her own toys, her own bed, and less people in green (although all the hospital staff were so helpful).
This morning Brooklynn's temperature is 100.9 without meds. She seems to be feeling slightly better - she won't eat, but she will drink. Her face is bloated due to the fluids in her body, and she's a bit more unstable than usual on her feet.
Every test that we took came back negative, meaning she doesn't have the Swine Flu, or 6 other viruses they tested for, nothing in her chest cavity, nothing in her urinary tract, nothing in her sinuses, or in her blood. We actually don't have a clue what is wrong with her - she had no other symptoms other than the fever and lack of appetite.
We go in for more tests this afternoon, but our hope is it's a virus they didn't check for and that it goes away in the next few days.
I can't believe the out poring of love we have seen. Cami met us when we got home Sunday with a gourmet hot meal that could have been made in heaven. We've been sent emails and phone calls of concern, my dad showed up like a silent angel Sunday morning in our room and gave Brooklynn another blessing as she slept.
I am grateful for experiences like this. With all of the horrific detail that you pass through, there is a sweetness that comes that you don't get elsewhere. A sweetness of family and how they are always the first there, and the most to care. A sweetness of friends who stay up late worrying and bring by popsicles and cookies for a 13 month girl who has lost her appetite. A sweetness of motherhood when you're the one she pulls to when she's crying "momma momma". A sweetness in your marriage as you hold the hand of the only other person who you know actually feels what you are feeling and that moment that you look at each other and just know, that you're in it together. A sweetness in your relationship with God, as you pass through an understanding, a slice of the depth of emotion He feel towards all of His children.