Trick or Treat...

This year was Noah's first time going "trick or treating" for Halloween. Last year he didn't really seem interested and helped me hand out candy. This year, I started talking it up the weekend before Halloween. He wore his costume most of the afternoon on Sunday, and we practiced saying, "trick or treat" and "thank you".

After his nap today, Noah was ready to get in his costume. It was cold and windy, so I layered on his clothes, starting with long underwear, a turtle neck, and then his Winnie the Pooh costume. Noah was so excited. We (Noah, myself, and Grandma Vicki) started at our neighbors house, and he said, "We trick or treatin! Thank you!" Each time we left a house, Noah said thank you and took off running to the next house. We hit more houses than I thought he would want, but when we got close to home, I asked Noah if he wanted to do more houses and he chose to go home. Then he helped Daddy and Poppa Jim hand out candy at the door.

Here are some pics of my little boy and little girl (who stayed inside where it was nice and warm).

How cute is he?!?

Isn't she adorable? What a cutie pie!

Geo Trax...

Our house has recently been hit with what I like to call, the plague. Last weekend, I had the stomach flu. Then, Noah came down with the stomach flu. Then, Ryan came down with a cold and flu, which was then passed on to Noah. The males in our house have been miserable for the entire week. Also this week, Noah chewed through his last Nuk, which has made bedtime rough on all of us.

Yesterday, I decided that after such a rough week (with the males still currently sick), I would put together Noah's Geo Trax sets. When my dad found out that I was having a boy, he went out and bought his future grandson a giant Geo Trax set that he gave Noah the Christmas before he was born. Every Christmas since, he has given Noah more Geo Trax to add to the set.

The first set took me 45 minutes to put together. It required 13 AAA batteries! Before my brain injury, I would have been able to put the track together quickly and have it look like the picture, but it literally took me 4 tries before I was able to do it. The next piece was pretty easy and took me about 15 minutes to do. The last set that I decided to tackle before going to bed was the airport. That one took about 30 minutes (which includes getting it out of the packaging. I swear, whoever packages that stuff must hate parents).

This morning, I brought Noah downstairs, and put him on the couch. He immediately got off the couch and started to play with his train set. He thought it was so cool, and then when I showed him the train was controlled with a remote and that the airplane was controlled with a remote, he was even more excited. It's amazing that before he was even born, Poppa Jim knew he would like trains. Like isn't even the right word. Noah LOVES trains- we watch Thomas and Dinosaur Train a lot in this house.

While I showered this morning, Ryan and Noah opened the extra tracks that Poppa had bought, and they built an even more elaborate track. I think this was the perfect weekend to set this up for Noah, and he's going to have so much fun with it for a long time. Thanks, Poppa Jim!

Mind Matters...

Today is the 7 year anniversary of my brain injury. I don't remember much of what happened. Here is what I remember: I woke up to go to work. I took some migraine medicine, because I had a migraine that was just starting. I got into the shower. The next thing I remember is waking up on the floor of the bathroom. I wasn't in the tub, but I was wet, like I had showered. My head was all "fuzzy" and I felt like I was in a fog. I started to pull myself up off the floor. The next thing I remember is waking up on the floor of the bathroom, only this time I was closer to the bathroom door.

My head hurt and I had a huge lump on the back of my head. I crawled into the bedroom, and started trying to tell Ryan that I needed help. I couldn't get the right words to come out of my mouth. I was slurring. Ryan could tell something had happened, but I wasn't able to explain it. He called me in sick to school, and called my friend, Bernadette, to make subplans for me. Ryan said that I just sat on the couch mumbling "call GP, call GP" (that's what I call Bernadette).

I don't remember much else. I made an appointment to go see a doctor (did we think to take me to the ER? No, we were dumb). The next day I went to work, but I was very fuzzy, wasn't talking too well. My boss told me that I couldn't come back until I was cleared by a doctor and sent me home. I remember sitting on the bed, staring at my pants. I couldn't figure out how to put them on. Another time, I walked away from the stove after I lit a burner, and just left it on (thank God Ryan was home).

When I went to the doctor, I remember that he made me feel stupid with the neurological tests that he was putting me through. I cried. He sent me to get a CT scan. I got lost on the way, even though I had directions. My parents were in Florida, but I called my dad to try to get me un-lost. He couldn't really help me. I called Ryan and he left work to look for me. I eventually got to the hospital and had the CT scan.

My mom called that night and told me to email my migraine doctor and let her know what was happening. As soon as I did that, my migraine doctor (Merle Diamond) got the ball rolling. She had me get an MRI, have neurological testing done the correct way, and had me get other tests, like an EEG, etc. That's when we found out that I had a brain injury. I had lost my short term memory.

I don't remember anything from the week before my injury, which is sad, because I was in one of my closest friends weddings, and I see pictures of myself in it, but I don't remember a thing about it. I don't remember anything for 3 weeks after my injury either. I try and try, but I can't. I fill in the blanks with things that I am told, but I don't remember it at all.

In the past years, I have learned accommodations to help me out. I carry a calendar with me to help me keep track of day to day things, everything has it's own special color in my calendar. I store directions to places in the car, so I don't get lost. I had a huge anger management issue for 6 months following my injury. I would go from 0 to rage in less than 30 seconds. I still have rage issues, but I am able to control it a lot better. I don't have a filter anymore. By that I mean, that I used to think before I spoke. I'm a blurter now, and that has gotten me in my fair share of hot water. I have to work hard to avoid blurting out everything that I say. I freak out and get very overwhelmed in crowds. I used to not be able to go into Meijers, because there are so many choices to be made, and it was sensory overload on my brain. I've trained myself to handle it now. I used to be able to have all my students' names memorized by the 2nd day of school. Now it takes me at least a month to do that. I have changed in many ways, but I have tried to stay as close to the same person that I remember myself as. It's been hard, on me, on my family, but I think I've been able to cope with it better each year that I live like this.

So long old friends...

I have been a San Francisco Giants fan since November 1990 (Do NOT accuse me of jumping on the Barry Bonds bandwagon- I think he is a disgrace to baseball). That is when I had my knee surgery, and when my dad bought me the book, "Comeback" by Dave Dravecky. When I was a freshman in high school, one of my dad's friends who works in California, sent me this gigantic t-shirt. I wore it to school, and eventually I wore it to sleep in, especially during my pregnancies. The shirt was 18 years old- yikes! Talk about sentimental, eh?

My first year teaching, my friend, Bernadette, bought me these Operation pants. I wore them during homecoming week- pajama day or when it was clash day. They also came in handy during my pregnancies. The pants were 8 years old.

At the end of my pregnancy with Juliana, Ryan and I noticed that both items were becoming holey, ratty, and threadbare. I made the sad decision to retire them to the garbage can.

It was a sad decision, and I'm thinking (hint, Ryan or my parents) that a new Giants t-shirt would make an excellent Christmas present, as would a new pair of Michigan basketball shorts (I didn't take a picture of those before I retired them- go BLUE!). Isn't it funny how attached we become to clothes?

The Farm...

Up by my parents' house there's a farm, and in the fall, they have all sorts of fun activities for little kids. What sorts of activities, you ask? Well, they have several inflatables (one that is a giant slide, and one that is an obstacle course, plus a couple others), they have a petting zoo, a barrel train, pony rides, etc. We took Noah & Juliana up there this weekend, and for those of you who aren't on facebook, here are some pictures of our day.

Going down the big slide the first time...

Going down the big slide "by myself"...

Doing the obstacle course with Daddy...

Pretty Pumpkin Princess

Back to the big slide...

Mmmmm, warm apple cider donuts...

Feeding the very friendly llama...

Noah and the goat who tried to follow Grandma out of the zoo...

He was fine until the pony started to move...

Walking the hay bale maze...

Finally, Juliana gets a win!

This week has been tough. On Tuesday, we took Juliana to the gastroenterologist. Last time we met him, he was arrogant, and abrasive with us (he was excellent with Juliana, though). Ryan told me to give him another chance, so we did.

We were dismayed to see that Juliana had only gained 2 ounces when she was weighed, but it wasn't like we were shocked. She had experienced a significant decrease in the amount of food she had been eating since she was started on Prevacid. Thankfully, the doctor listened to us this time, and agreed that Prevacid was doing more harm than good and started her back on Zantac. He also gave us a prescription for a medicine that would coat her esophagus. He thinks that she has learned to associate eating with pain, and hopefully this new medicine will help take away the pain of eating. We have to re-train her to believe that eating doesn't hurt. We go back in another 2 weeks for a weight check and to see if the medicine works.

Today, I took Juliana to the cardiologist (we really like this guy, so if you ever need a pediatric cardiologist, which I hope you don't, I strongly recommend him). Ryan stayed home with Noah, who was running a fever and had thrown up in the night (unfortunately I discovered it at 7 AM when I went to get him up).

They were running behind due to some medical emergencies in the morning, but Juliana was pretty happy. We were finally brought back to a room, and they did the usual: blood pressure, oxygen, pulse, and EKG. When the doctor came in, he was concerned about her lack of weight gain, but I assured him we were seeing the gastro guy in his office. He listened to her heart and said the murmur was much more faint, but he wanted to do an echocardiogram to confirm it, as well as check on her left ventricle.

This is where Juliana began to make us pay for the long wait. It took me a half hour to get her calmed down and asleep, and then the doctor was able to do the echo. He was very thorough, even checking the bloodvessels up into the neck. He spent a good 25 minutes on the echo (see why I like this man so much?). At the end, he looked at me and said the words I needed to hear this week, "2 of the holes are totally closed, and the third one has gotten much smaller. Her left ventricle is slightly enlarged, but it's within normal limits. I don't need to see her again until the summer." I was floored. I couldn't believe it. Finally, Juliana got a win! Thank you God, and thank you to everyone who has prayed for our little girl.

She just doesn't get it...

So, our park district offers this program called "the biggest loser", based off the television show. Basically you pay a discounted fee and get 8 weeks membership at a gym, access to a personal trainer and they teach you how to eat healthy and use the equipment. I signed up to do it. I have a terrible body image (made even worse by 2 pregnancies), and I really want to get healthy for my kids and for myself.

Saturday I met with my first personal trainer. I had to fill out some papers, and at one point, I had to circle a number saying how committed I was to the program. I did not circle the 10, which indicates total commitment, for several reasons, and I think if you know me you already know why. For those of you who don't know me too well, I'll get to my reasons a little later.

Then, I got to get on the scale (sigh), and then I got measured (even more humiliation). Then the trainer gives me the workout schedule. She wanted me to do cardio workouts 5 days a week and do strength training every 4 days. In addition to that she wanted me to attend 4 "classes" a week: yoga-lates, belly dancing (no one needs to be subjected to seeing me attempt to dance in any form), combat kick boxing, and yoga. I started to giggle a little bit- sometimes I do that when I'm nervous.

So, she asks me: " Do you think you can do all of this?" Me: "Not all of it." Her: "Why not?" Me: "My family comes first." Her: "I thought you wanted to get healthy." Me: "I do, but" (then I got cut off). Her: "Don't make excuses." Me (trying to control my temper): "Look, I have a 2 year old son that I don't get to see enough because I have to work. I have a 4 1/2 month old daughter who has health issues that I don't get to see enough because I have to work, and I haven't even been able to enjoy my daughter because all we do is go to doctor's and try to get her to eat". Her: "You're married right?" Me: "Yes, for 10 years". Her: "Can't your husband watch the kids so you can workout?" Me: "Yes, but that's not the point. I want to see my family. I will come to work out after my children have gone to bed, but I won't do it every day, because I have a husband and I want to see him." Her: "Why don't you work out in the morning? We open at 5". Me: "Well, my daughter gets up in the night, so I feed her, and then I usually get up for the day after 5". Her: "So, you can workout then". Me: "Well, not really. I have to get myself and 2 kids ready so that I can drop them off at the babysitter and then go to work". Her: "What about your husband?" Me: "He's helping me get them ready until he has to leave". Her: "So, you're not that committed to the program". Me: "Not according to your standards."

She just didn't get it.

I meet with a new personal trainer tonight. One who is married and has children. I'll let you know how that goes.