Update on Life

Boo!

Did I scare you with a new post?

I know it's been a while, but we BOUGHT A HOUSE so things have been a little busy.

I wrote the following family update in April to send along as a substitute for our absence at the Gin-Loo, a family gathering named after my grandma (Nanny) Virginia (shortened to Gin), and her twin sister Looie (real name Lois). A little more name trivia...their baby sister, my Great Aunt Pat, was actually named Florence, but having been born on St. Patrick's Day, she was always called Pat.

And now you know.

I thought I'd share the update here as it more or less encompasses everything I've simply not posted here. I've left out some details, such as names of businesses, but if you know us, then you can fill in the details for yourself.

Enjoy!

Hello to all Gin-Looers! We're sorry to miss the gathering, but Justin and I have recently decided to try Adulting. It's true; we've put on our big-boy pants and are buying a house. No, that doesn't necessarily mean we'll be in Arizona for a long time, it simply means we've decided it's time we had a place of our own.

Justin is still working for the same large retailer, covering all the stores in the state of Arizona. He still occasionally oversees his old district, extending from eastern Washington over northern Idaho and all of Montana. It keeps him busy, to say the least! Justin received, in March, a regional recognition at a conference, an award for which he wasn't present to receive as he was off earning his daddy of the year award -- an honor bestowed upon him for his coming to my rescue when the boys and I were all struck with a terrible stomach bug (a bug which Justin himself suffered the previous week/inflicted upon the family in the first place). 

I, Christine, am thankful for Justin's hard work, which allows me to stay at home with the boys. I do still work a few hours a week for the specialty foods and produce grocer for which I did marketing in California. The market has allowed me to stay on as recipe developer and (amateur) food photographer since 2012, seeing me through two sessions of maternity leave, as well as our moves to Washington and Arizona.

Rolin, who has been dubbed Relentless Rolin, is a full-blown 2-year-old with a passion for popsicles, the library, playing with the neighbor kids, the outdoors, "Big Hero 6," rocks, "Uptown Funk," bicycles and popsicles. Did I mention popsicles? If I didn't, he will. And then he will again. Someone give that kid a popsicle already! Wait, he already had one today? Yes. Well, he'll ask again for one within the hour anyway, and he won't care what you have to say about it. Either way, the rule is one popsicles a day, OK? 

Rolin can act bashful at times, but won't hold back once he's warmed up. He has a happy personality and is usually game for going with the flow. He talks a mile a minute and constantly surprises us with new words and phrases. This zealous boy is chomping at the bit to play with brother Emmett, while Emmett seems perfectly happy to sit and smile whilst Rolin screams, "Baby Emmett!!" in his face and pokes at his eyes. Emmett nearly outweighs Rolin, however, so I'm sure Emmett will have his payback one of these days.

Sweet 9-month-old Emmett is now pushing four teeth all at once, but is taking it like a champ. He already has two bottom teeth; the newcomers are all on the top. He's nearly crawling, and there is money on the table saying he'll be completely mobile by the time of the Gin-Loo. Emmett, too, has a cheerful, go-with-the-flow disposition (thank you, God!), and is usually happy to share a big gummy grin with anyone who offers him a grin first. Though he's had his fair share of ailments, from a slightly enlarged kidney to a cow's milk and soy protein allergy, and from the dreaded RSV to a terrible stomach bug, he is overall in good health and we couldn't be more grateful. He has, however, given my mama heart a good workout! 

If you want more updates, check out our family blog: theteamthompson.blogspot.com. This blog, unfortunately, has been neglected as of late, but not without good reason. Yes, some of you have more than two children, and, yes, I'm sure that makes you feel more crazy and busy than people with only two children, but two is still enough to make me feel like I'm living in crazy town/slowly turning into the Wicked Witch of the West. As a result, my bloginess isn't as blogful these days. Hey, if someone asked you for a popsicle at least 27 times a day, you might feel the same. I'm sure my updates will become more frequent soon. Well, maybe as soon as I'm done reading the "Outlander" series. 

Please feel free to come visit us anytime! 

Our love to you all,

Christine, Justin, Rolin & Emmett

Month of sickness

We are glad January is over. Yes, I know February is over as well, but it was most of January that was no fun, and it took the last half of February for me to recover!

We started the new year by transitioning Emmett to formula. So far, none of my irrational fears have come to fruition, thank goodness. He's still as chunky as ever and it appears he still loves me; he has entered the phase of babyhood where he loves to plant big, sloppy and lingering kisses on my face. I call them kisses, anyway. Emmett's dimply smile could melt a glacier. I do love him so.

Around mid-January I noticed a few small red bumps on Rolin's face that I immediately attributed to bugs. After they started to multiply, I started to get concerned, but also figured it was a little reaction to climbing trees or maybe even to lime yogurt (citrus gives him a diaper rash...so it was a logical assumption, I thought). As soon as the spots made the hop from right side of the face to the left and began to take on a more blotchy appearance, we headed to the doctor.

Long story short, we stumped the doctors. The rash was confined to his face. It kind of itched, but he wasn't bothered by it. He hadn't ever had a fever... They sent pictures of Rolin to an infectious diseases doctor, became worried it could be a form of measles, then had us go next door to the lab to have some blood drawn for testing. Rolin rocked the lab procedures...left his mask on the entire time we waited, as well as during the test, and he hardly cried at all as they stuck him with a needle to draw samples.

That was a Friday, of course.

At the doctor. He was "getting milk out..." 

He'll be angry about me posting this picture someday, I'm sure. 

On Saturday he spiked a 102.7 degree fever and was mopey. His dots began to fade, but he also developed a wicked cough and runny nose. At our follow-up appointment Monday, after reviewing the blood work analysis --- he was totally fine; great white blood cell count, etc.,  --- a nasal swab determined he had RSV. A look in his ear lead to the discovery of an ear infection. His first ear infection ever!

The rash? It was chalked up to just being part of the virus. A mystery, in other words.

Emmett, so far, by then, was ok. He had had a bit of a cough for a couple weeks, but he wasn't wheezy or miserable. With Justin being out of town, the doctor asked if I had any family around who could help me keep the boys separated for a few more days.

I called Gigi on the way home, and she graciously came to my rescue.

We were sent home with prescriptions for Rolin's ears and also for albuterol to use in the nebulizer as a breathing treatment. A few days later, Rolly was improving, but developed a nasty, yeasty diaper rash from the ear antibiotics, the poor dear.

By the following Friday, Emmett was coughing worse. His eyes were watery and his nose ran nonstop. He never had a fever, so I just sat with him in a steamy bathroom and kept the humidifier on at all times. That night he coughed so hard he barfed up his bottle on me. Twice. Justin got called just after midnight regarding an emergency at a store in Tucson, so he had to leave. At midnight.

In the morning Emmett was wheezy...I had my neighbor come over to confirm the wheeziness; partially because Justin was gone, partially because I had had little sleep and partially because I was sort of at my wits' end from all the coughing, barfing, snot, breathing treatments and so on. Emmett had been short of breath for a few days, and I was beginning to worry I'd overlooked too much and he was developing pneumonia.

That's a mom's brain for you.

Wheeziness confirmed, I made my first ever trip to an urgent care center. I was sort of nervous about it, but we received excellent treatment, I couldn't have been happier about our experience! The practitioner who saw Emmett even called me about a week later to see how things were going. #impressed.

Miserable peanut at urgent care.

Emmett started to improve, thanks to the steroid they gave him at urgent care. By the next day, Super Bowl Sunday, he was in great shape! A little tired, but doing much better (which was great because we were hosting a Super Bowl party at our house!). I thought he would get worse again after the steroid wore off, but by the middle of the week he seemed to be healed.

Go Hawks! Em felt better!

Suddenly, however, the following weekend, his health regressed; he was wheezy again and simply looked miserable. He also cough-barfed another entire bottle all over me, this one going directly down my shirt into my pj pants, down my leg into my shoe. So I called the doctor again.

Yeah, I wear shoes with my pj pants. So what?!

My darling husband offered to take Emmett to the pediatrician where it was confirmed he did in fact have RSV (still...apparently it can last for a couple weeks, with symptoms ebbing and flowing as Emmett's had). Justin took him back mid-week for a follow-up where it was confirmed Emmett now had an ear infection.

I was so grateful for Justin's offer to take Emmett to the pediatrician. I'd been there so many times in the last two months...it was almost too hard to take him up on his offer since I'm the one that usually takes the boys; I knew what I wanted answers to, I knew what had already been asked, I knew what time Emmett had medicine and what he had, I knew the timeline of his symptoms...

But, letting Justin take Emmett was a learning experience for the both of us. I learned to let go a little, and Justin learned that you take a prescription to a pharmacy and that medicine for an ear infection is not administered in the ear.

The boys appeared to be over the worst of it by Valentine's Day weekend, which was perfect timing as that was the weekend Joe and Brianna came down to visit. Whew! Now it's March. After a week of complete health, however, both boys are suffering from either allergies or another cold. Just like everyone else in Arizona. At least, for the time being anyway, no one is wheezy or barking like a seal.

Sleepy heads

We're lucky that Rolin is a great sleeper in his new "big boy" bed. We moved him into it in April, about a week after we had started making over the guest room to be his new room. He slept in it the first night and hasn't looked back. He loves it! He's only rolled out once; I wish you could have seen how fast Justin and I ran up the stairs to find him pretty much still asleep on the floor.

Rolin wakes on occasion during the night, I'm assuming from a bad dream? If he woke while I was pregnant, I'd ask Justin to go check on him. If Rolin wakes now that I'm unpregnant, I ask Justin to go check on him (this is only fair, people). He's a good daddy, too, and is usually on his way to check on Rolin before I even hear that he has woken.

Anyway, when Rolin woke one night a couple weeks ago, Justin went in to check on him. After some time passed and Justin hadn't returned, I checked the monitor and found this:

I laugh so hard at this picture because Justin is clearly sound asleep, while Rolin is laying there wide awake. He's just staring at the back of Justin's head as if he's saying to himself, "I just know if I fall asleep, daddy will leave."

Grand Canyoning

The day after the Tuzigoot and Montezuma business, we drove into the Grand Canyon National Park. Planning a trip of your own? It should be noted that it's best to do a bit of research on food options before going to the park without a picnic lunch. 

While we thankfully ate a large breakfast, our arrival was poorly timed, specifically in regard to walking certain distances between available food sources, times we would like to be eating and when these food sources were open (things close in the afternoon, folks). 

However, as I said, thankfully we all ate a large breakfast, so everyone was in good shape. That, and I had packed snacks for Rolin, which also doubled as adult snacks toward the end of the day. 

Details, details.

Lee and Rolin walking to the park from the parking lot. 

Justin with his sweatshirt on. 

Justin with his sweatshirt off.

It was a nice day for a visit -- clear, temps in the low 70s, a weekday so we weren't trampled by weekenders.

Because this is my blog, so I can say what I want to say, while grand, I was expecting more grandeur. I mean, it is a fantastically huge, colorful, mystifying work of art in the surface of the earth, but I think my eyes had been spoiled ahead of arrival by photographers' edited pictures.

I think another reason for my (I don't want to say disappointment, it wasn't that) lack of awe was because I was on edge and slightly terrified of Rolin escaping and slipping and falling, whether it be on his own or while he was on someone's back in the carrier. I mean, just a week or two before we arrived, someone tragically slipped and fell near where we were walking! I can't say I really stopped much to absorb the majesty of the Grand Canyon.

Don't get me wrong, it is pretty awesome. A few times I imagined being a pioneer, riding along on my horse, wishing someone would invent mosquito repellent already, and randomly coming across a completely impassable, colorful, enormous hole in the ground that no one had ever seen. But, after a while, everything started looking the same. And we had a long way to walk before we got to the (closed) restaurant, which would have cost us about $65 per plate, and 9 p.m. would have been the earliest we could get a reservation.

Plus, eventually Rolin didn't want to be in the carrier anymore. He wanted to run free. He wanted to show other visitors at the Grand Canyon that, yes, it is possible to walk the trail and cry for about 45 minutes straight.

Walking the trail, pushing Grammy and Mama forward with his screaming. Is he a future drill sergeant? 

Can you see the veins popping out in my hand? Death grip, peeps. Death grip. 

Justin, me and B2T2. 

Grammy making friends with another squirrel. 

Lee and Karen.

The view from the Desert View Watch Tower, nearing sunset.

We'll definitely go again sometime. Maybe when our kids have babies of their own (like, have to be strapped-in-a-stroller, can't-yet-walk babies), so I'm not responsible for fearless teenagers who think they can jump between rocks or scamper out to teeter on a cliff edge. Their spouses, not their overprotective mother, will then be in charge of threatening them with bodily harm if they're being ridiculous daredevils. If my kids are parents of their own by the time we go again, maybe I'll take some time to sit and stare at the world wonder.

Grand Canyon in 2042, anyone?

30-33 Weeks with B2T2

Down to 10 weeks to go by the time I snapped this shot. I remember when I received this dress, I tried it on and it was too big in places. Now it fits just about right. Goodness.

30 weeks

I'm still feeling pretty good. I definitely have more Braxton Hicks contractions this time. Some days more than others. My appetite ebbs and flows. I don't crave anything particular, other than food in general. I'm still more of a salty/savory foods fan vs. sweet, though if you told me there was a fun-size pack of M&Ms left in our HP (the "Harry Potter" closet under the stairs), I bet I could sniff it out in about eight seconds, devour it in about three seconds. Hey, they're small bags.

As for beverages, water. Just water, with lots of ice.

There are days when my ankles are much more swollen than others, but that depends on how much standing I do or how often we go outside. I'm very thankful our neighborhood has a community pool, and so is Rolin. He LOVES the pool. LOVES IT!

As I write this post, I'm currently 33 weeks pregnant. AH! People, that means just about 7 weeks to go. AH!

33 weeks. B2T2 is about 4.5 lbs, 19 in. (about the size of a honeydew)

There are days where I'm proud/embarrassed/impressed/ashamed/surprised by how much I eat. But the funny thing is I don't even realize I ate as much as I did until heartburn comes a'knockin' -- and it knocks hard. It knocks hardest as soon as I've settled into bed with the equivalent of about 78 pillows (it's my hips, guys, they hurt so bad). If B2T2 doesn't have much hair when he is born, I'm going to write strongly worded letters to all the old wives to ask they stop telling such crazy tales relating baby's hair to heartburn.

On a hormonal note, this week I've also become a bit emotional about Rolin not being my one and only. He's become so much more aware and vocal and smart and funny and he remembers things even I don't. He's also started to become a little more of a snuggler, which he definitely is not on a regular basis. It's like he knows he's down to the last few weeks of it just being Rolin, mom and dad. I have all the (from what I've gathered from others) normal mom fears: how will this work with two, will I love them both equally, am I going to turn into a screaming machine... I'm excited for two babies, but Rolin's world is going to be rocked. I guess, overall, I just hope he doesn't become a little shit (excuse me) and start hating mom and dad because we have another little one in the house. I don't think he will, but there is no knowing until we're in the thick of it.

He does "know" there is a baby brewing. He says hello to baby, pats my tummy, kisses my tummy...but it only lasts a few seconds before he pulls my shirt back down and says, "Bye, Baby!" He did, however, want B2T2 to watch TV with him the other day, so he pulled my shirt up so baby could see too:

Rolly and B2T2 watching TV.

I think the reason all these thoughts have been flooding my mind is because last week we toured the hospital where I'll deliver. I've also started washing newborn and 0-3 mo. clothes (and when I say wash, I mean wash, dry and throw into the crib in the baby's room...putting away will happen another day). Also, Rolly moved to a big boy bed almost two months ago (the transition went great!), so I've been slowly converting his old room back to a room for a newborn (read: Justin raised the crib back up).

Lastly, dear readers, other than getting "ready," wrapping up some work stuff and doing my best to tell myself that 109F isn't that hot, I have a goal of posting several more blog posts before baby comes...posts that will cover the last few months, including our trip to the Grand Canyon, Easter and our two-week trip to Washington and Oregon. Stay tuned!

A new month

Rolin is glad November is over, I'm sure. It started with a pre-op visit to the eye doc Nov. 5th, followed by his surgery the 8th.

He had a booster shot on the 14th, where he tied to claw his way to the top of my head as soon as I opened the door to the doc office. I'd never heard such a screech of pure terror come from him as I did that day. Poor buddy was a little traumatized at the hospital, I think. Thankfully it was just a shot and then we could go, but he contorted his body in such a way I could hardly get his clothes off when it came time to weigh him. He did not want to be there. It made my mama heart hurt.

Unfortunately, less than a week later, he came down with a barky cough that I called the doc about. We went back to the doctor again, and the screech crying resumed. I couldn't even hear what the doctor was saying about how to treat him at home -- he had croup -- so I had to ask her to repeat things and to write them down because Rolin had grabbed my face with both hands, looked me straight in the eye and asked, "Why, WHY! do we keep coming back to this chamber of torture! You say every day that you love me! You call this love!?!?!"

The next week we had a post-opp eye appointment, which involved no needles, poking or prodding, but it was still a doctor's office and Rolin could sense something was up. Luckily, that appointment went relatively smooth. Everything looked great and both tubes were still in place. Rolin still let them know, however, he wasn't a fan of doctors or doctor's offices. He cried the hardest, cried like a wee little baby, when they took away the toy they use as a focal point to check his eye tracking. He full on went limp noodle an laid on the floor when they took it away. Blerg. I suppose he's still a baby, so that's expected. :)

Then, THEN, just four days later, Rolly woke a bit earlier than normal so JT brought him into our room. As soon as he set him on the bed, JT said, "Uh oh, I think one of his eye tubes is sticking out."

It was.

So, imagine if you will, trying to hold down a 16-month-old boy, press his eye tube gently to his face and then stick it down with a bandaid. His tears made the bandaid lose its stickiness, so we had to try a couple times. Luckily JT was here to help, but he had to get to the airport and I had to get Rolin to the ophthalmologist an hour away ASAP. We said our goodbyes to daddy, hopped in the car and I prayed he wouldn't mess with the bandaid or tube in the car. We played a lot of clap your hands in the car to keep his hands busy.

The poor thing was all sick with croup, coughing, sneezing and snotting all over the place, and at yet another doctor's office. Luckily it's just a 3-second procedure, but, all the same, he let everyone know he was unhappy about being there and that he now hates doctor's offices with a fiery passion.

He got to tell them again just last Tuesday because HIS OTHER TUBE POPPED OUT during a nap. Well, I shouldn't say nap. No sleeping was happening. He was in his room, during what should have been nap time, just playing with Pete the Sheep, talking to the owls on his crib bumper and chewing on his crib rail. As I marched in after an hour to tell him I'd had enough of his shenanigans, I noticed immediately his tube sticking out of his eye. UGH! I grabbed a bandaid, sat on top of him, stuck that damn tube down to his face and threw everything in the car to race to the doctor's office. We played more clap your hands, where's your foot, here eat a snack... anything to keep his hand away from his eye.

Terrible pic, but you can see the bandaid on his face. It's holding the tube down. It was hard to get the bandaid down, but even harder to get a pic of it.

He actually did better during that visit, but still let out a very sad whimper as soon as he realized where we were.

All the while I've been leaving him more and more in the church nursery or at the child care room while I go to MOPS, which has just been twice, but still. He's in there for two hours; screaming when I leave and screaming when I get back...but not too much in between, which is great news. He only screams toward the end when other moms come to pick up their littles and he's left thinking, "I knew it, I knew she wasn't ever coming back!!! Why didn't anyone listen to me when I was screaming about this earlier!?!!? She's not coming!! Oh, wait. Is that you, mom? You did come back!!! I knew you would, just like you said."

JT took him to the nursery last Sunday, and I could hear Rolin screaming from the sanctuary...even over the pastor's sermon.

Let's just say Rolin has a severe case of separation anxiety at the moment.

And that Rolin is glad November is over.

Christmas tree

Same shirt, same baby. Different house, different state.

2012

2013

31

My parents came down for my birthday weekend. This was probably the strangest birthday for me, mentally...I've always been pretty pumped about my birthday...I used to create countdowns and hang them in my locker at school. I think I was always so excited about them because my parents did a great job celebrating us. Whether we had slumber parties, family parties or just pizza after a soccer game, our birthdays were always made special.

I can only hope to do the same for Rolly and other kiddos.

But, as I said, this just felt different for me. I kept forgetting my birthday was coming. I kept forgetting it was October. I think the weather had something to do with it. Maybe it's because, while I still am important to myself, there is someone much more important that I think about all day long. Little Rolin!

However, mom, dad and Justin still put on a fun celebration, we gave Rolin his first taste of real ice cream (because he could have dairy at that point) and I scored a bicycle, some artwork for the wall and some other sweet gifts.

On my actual birthday, we went to breakfast before I took mom and dad to the airport. The exterminator came to spray our house later that afternoon and life went back to normal. Thanks to all who sent birthday messages! It's so nice to be remembered on your birthday :)

Riding the new bike!

Rolin with Grandpa and Gigi at breakfast.

Rolin was cleared to have diary shortly before my birthday, so my dad requested to be the first to give him a taste of real ice cream. It took a few licks, but he loved it!

Rolly and momma. Thanks for the earrings, mom!

We also went to a concert in a nearby park. Rolly got his groove on:

Tear ducts

As I mentioned in my last post, Rolin had a surgical procedure Friday to open his tear ducts. Things went fine and he seems just about back to normal today. 

In the prep room, wearing his "one size fits none" hospital gown. They even gave him little hospital socks with the grippers on the bottom.

Poor baby didn't know what was coming.

We had to check in at 6 a.m. and were there until about 10:30 a.m. or so. We stayed about an hour and a half longer than expected as he had a rougher than expected recovery from the anesthesia. I wouldn't have been able to tell you that on my own, but the nurses and doctors kept saying so. 

I know everyone's prayers helped with our nerves -- I felt just fine the whole time. Tears were shed though: mostly tears of joy that it worked and he woke up, but they were mixed with a little sadness for how mad, sad and completely out of it Rolly was in recovery, and how hard it was to get him to calm down at first. Plus, it was sad seeing blood in his tears and coming from his nose. 

Snuggles were about all that helped. 

I also had an unfortunate snot-string incident happen when the ophthalmologist came to chat with us again... I said, "oh I'm fine..." [wipe nose with hand...something comes away with hand...doctor and husband give  me a 'ew, gross' look...someone hands me a tissue]. But I suppose I'm not the first mom he's seen in that situation. At least I'd like to think that. 

I was pleasantly pleased with the way the ophthalmologist, anesthesiologist and the recovery room nurses kept coming by to check on him and explain things to us. He had to wear an oxygen mask on and off for a while to get numbers back up to a good level. Things were looking ok so we thought we'd go, but then the nurse asked if I was sure about three times, which made me think I wasn't, so we stayed longer. I'm glad we did. After another 20 mins or so, his numbers were even better and he stayed awake on his own for about five minutes. By that time you could tell the nurses felt better about his status, which, of course, made me feel a lot more comfortable going home. 

He slept most of the day away, ate a little bit and played a little before bedtime. On top of all his daytime sleep, he slept from 8:30 p.m. to 5:22 a.m. in his room. Tired babe! He still has some blood-tinged boogs and tears today, but he really seems back to his normal, active self. 

Snuggled with the bear the hospital gave him. He carried it around and hugged it all day. So sweet!

Couch cuddles are uncommon since he's usually on the move, so we enjoyed a day of snuggles with the little bug. 

What they did: They put little tubes in both of his ducts that go down into his nose. The tubes poke through the membrane in the duct that was either completely blocking the duct or was just making it a tight squeeze for the eye goop and tears to drain properly (so he had a goopy, crusty eye most of the time). They'll either work their way out or be taken out in three months. Hopefully that does the trick and we don't have to go back in to try again or try something different. 

When we were there, we met a family with a 14-mo-old boy. This was his eighth surgery. Eighth! The sweet little love. He was born with Spina Bifida, something they didn't know until he was born. They were in good spirits, considering, and were joking a bit about how on top of everything, their baby had bad tear ducts too. I wish we could have chatted with them more -- they seemed like a strong, kind couple. 

Nails

One of the things I really don't like doing is cutting Rolin's fingernails. If you asked Rolin, he'd say one of his least favorite mommy + Rolin activities is having mommy cut his fingernails.

He hates it.

Probably more than I do.

Today, however, he did something to try to stop me. He picked up a rogue fingernail clipping, held it up for me to see and then suddenly lunged forward in an attempt to shove the clipping in my mouth.

I had been trying my best to secure him with one arm and clip his nails with another -- a position from which he was unable to escape. However, done with sly quickness, his shoving of the clipping allowed him to slip from my grasp.

It was one of the grossest, yet one of the most tactical, moves I've ever seen him make.

He's growing and getting smarter every day. He's a rascal, that one!