We have a sick little guy on our hands.. part two

Remember how I told you when Noah was born he needed to spend three days in the NICU where he was on oxygen and heart monitors? And then how about 6 months ago he got bronchiolitis and had to receive breathing treatments, steroids and an inhaler? Well I think this kid likes to get sick and scare me. I think its a hobby of his. That, and poking people in the eye.

Last Tuesday I noticed my normally happy, smiley baby was a clingy, fussy, warm little ball of cries following me around and knew he was getting sick. Wednesday morning he woke up sounding raspy with a clearly sore throat and a little bit of a cough. But with it being a week day and him not having a fever, we gave him some tylenol and sent him to daycare anyway. I was getting calls and texts all day about how his throat sounded worse and worse all day. He was getting raspier, he cough was getting deeper, his breathing was getting wheezy, and his voice was getting higher and higher like his throat was swelling.

I went to pick him up after work and did not find my baby, but found what sounded like a barking seal instead. So I dropped Anthony and Brandon off at home and Noah and I headed off to urgent care. We waited in the waiting room for about 20 minutes, watching people get called back, get their vitals taken and get sent back out into the waiting room to wait their turn.

They called us back for our turn to get his vitals taken and the nurse commented at least three times on how bad Noahs breating sounded. She took his vitals, asked a few questions, heard him cough and then told us we were being bumped ahead of everyone, and ushered us to our room.  Soon the doctor came in and told us what the nurse had already told us she suspected, that he had croup. They gave him a steriod and a breathing treatment and he sounded better by the time we left. They told us that it may have been because of his bronchiolitis that he got this, it left him with sort of a pre-disposition to respritory issues. And even more good news is that now that he's had croup once, he's more likely to get it again.

The real good news is that he's doing better. We've been running his humidifier and giving him ibuprofen to keep the swelling in his throat down. He still has a cough but it just sounds like a gunky cough, not a seal bark anymore. Lets hold out hope that this fall and winter dont bring us many more croup issues!

Mother Nature hates So. California.

It's October right? October as in... Fall, Halloween, changing leaves, chilly weather, all that fun stuff... right? Someone forgot to send the weather here in San Diego that memo. Yesterday it was 103 degrees. Thats hot even for our summers. We are in a seemingly endless heat wave and i've just about had it with this heat! I have friends who live in all different areas of the US. And they're all posting pictures of changing leaves, their kids in sweaters and boots, them in scarfs and jackets and I'm turning red with envy. I would be turning green if it wasn't so damn hot, all I can do is turn red.

I'm a native San Diegan. My grandparents came here from Kansas and Oklahoma, my mom was born here, my siblings and I were born here, and my kids were born here. We're pretty rooted in San Diego. You would think I would be used to the weather and embrace living in pleasantville where the worst weather we get is some heat and/or a little rain. But I really don't. I know that I take it for granted, but the fact of the matter is, I don't know any other kind of weather. To me, this is boring. I see other areas of the US that have real season and I swoon. I'm so envious of areas that have actual weather!

Last year Brandon got offered a job in Bridgewater, New Jersey. Its a cute little down in central NJ. Brandon approached me very cautiously about the opportunity, thinking I wouldn't be on board but I jumped at the opportunity and literally started researching the town ten minutes after he told me about it. Yeah yeah I knew ew NJ but the chance to live out East, and live somewhere with real weather was so insanely exciting to me. Unfortunately the move didn't work out. Clearly. Because we're still here in pleasantville.

It's not so much that I hate San Diego. Sometimes I say that I do, but I don't. I love the beach, I love how SD is unique in that you're an hour or less from the beach, the mountains, the desert, and the city. You have it all smooshed into one area. We have Disneyland, Sea World, Legoland, the (world famous) SD Zoo, Knotts Berry Farm, and the Wild Animal Park all within an hour or two drive or less. San Diego is the type of place people dream of, I realize that. But damn its boring after 26 years of it.

I can feel Fall trying to break through. Its chilly at night and first thing in the morning. It cools down quick after the sun goes down, but then that asshole sun comes back the next morning to heat everything up again.

Someone send me some fall leave? A jar of cold (not AC produced) air?  Or better yet, someone give me and/or Brandon a job somewhere else so we can have real seasons!

Eight years!

Once you're married are you still allowed to celebrate your dating anniversary? Is it weird that we still do? We don't go all out, we usually just go on a date and call it a night. We don't generally exchange gifts or anything, but we still want to at least acknowledge the day that initially brought us together.

Today, my husband and I celebrate EIGHT YEARS of togetherness. Eight. Holy moly. We met when we were eighteen years old. We were both just barely graduated from high school, fresh, shiny new adults trying to pretend like we knew what we were doing. We were both working for a retail store, same store but different locations. We met when his friend worked at the same branch as I did, and he had come to pick said friend up from work. I knew it was love after our very first conversation:

Brandon to his friend: Okay I'm going outside to smoke, meet me outside.
Me: Ew, nasty.
Brandon: It's not like I'm trying to impress you.
Me: It's a good thing, too.

Ahhh love was in the air. Our second interaction a went slightly better. He came to cover a shift at my branch and we spent the entire shift chatting, him letting me poke him in his freshly broken nose (he was 18 and super tough, guys!), and letting me draw tattoos on his arm with a sharpie. That time, there really was something in the air. We hung out a few days later and were pretty much inseparable after that. I'd also like to happily report that he no longer smokes, because I still find it gross.

Eight years of togetherness, three years of marriage, and two babies later, I still kinda love him. I'm very blessed to call him my husband, and I thank God regularly for bringing us together. I wouldn't choose to walk through life with anyone else by my side.

New years 2004-2005. Please feel free to laugh at my black hair.

On our wedding day May 2009

Our first ever picture as a family of three. November, 2008

and then came baby #2 August 2011.

Look what we made together!

One of the very first, (and very few :/) pictures of the four of us together

On our third wedding anniversary, in Hawaii May 2012

We were THAT family

So remember how I dropped a little mension of an accident at Disneyland in my post about my week off work? Let me elaborate. Let me welcome you into the bubble of horror and embarassment that I got to experience.

Anthony is 3.5 years old, he will be four in November. He has been potty trained since he was just over two years old. So we're goin on two years of potty training here. His butt hasn't touched a diaper in almost two years. I haven't had to deal with an accident or carry a change of clothes with me for a very long time.

The drive from my house to Disneyland is around two hours. Give or take, depending on traffic. This particular trip to Disneyland we decided to make quicker by eating breakfast in the car, rather than stopping. So Anthony ate and drank on the way there.

When we got there I saw that one of the most popular rides, Peter Pan, had only a ten minute wait (as oppose to its normal 40min wait). So I jumped on the opportunity and rushed us all into the line. After we got off Peter Pan I noticed that Dumbo also had a short line, which is not usually the case. So I ran us over to Dumbo to jump in line, forgetting the fact that we had eaten and drinken on the way up here and had yet to make a bathroom stop.

So there we are, standing in line for Dumbo, minding our own business, when Anthony starts dancing a little and tells me he has to go potty. We were next in line so I ask him "Do you have to go now or can you hold it until the end of the ride?" and almost immediately after I finished my question it happened. The most embarassing Disneyland moment of my life. He just started peeing. Right there in line for Dumbo. Peeing. Down his leg. On his shoes. Peeing. I couldn't do anything, I couldn't pick him up mid-pee, I couldn't make it stop, I couldn't do anything! All I could do was stand there in shock and horror, and watch my child pee himself in the middle of the line, in the middle of Disneyland.

We hung our heads low and when our turn came up, we let the line operator know we had had an accident and needed to get through. We rushed to the bathroom where I stuffed Anthony in a stall (that I could see from the sinks) and washed off his shorts and sandals in the sink. I got some looks of "wth are you doing?!" from some moms. I got ingored by some moms. But mostly I got looks of pity. Looks of "I see what you're doing there.. I've been there too" Which was oddly comforting.

Luckily for Anthony it was knockin on 100 degrees that day so his shorts were dry in less than a half hour. His shame was quickly dried away and soon there was no evidence of it. Also luckily for him, he's three and was at Disneyland so he didn't give two shits about the fact that his pants were wet, or that he peed himself in front of everyone, he was just happy we were there. Oh, to be three again.

That one week I spoiled my kids

Last week the owner/operator of our daycare (who also happens to be my sister) took a vacation, leaving the daycare closed. A closed daycare meant no other means of childcare for me, which ended up resulting in me taking a week off of work. It didn't take much convincing to get me to take the time off.

I work, a lot. I drive a lot to get to and from work. I don't get a lot of time with my kids. So when I saw an entire week of time off just me and my boys, I pounced on the opportunity to go do fun stuff. Not only did I want to spend some time doing fun stuff with my boys, I also didn't want to stay in the house all week long with a bored 1 and 3yr old. That does not equal a fun time for mom or boys. So I made a little bit of a game plan and my boys and I got to have a seriously awesome week.

Our first stop of the week was to the happiest place on earth... that's right... we went to DISNEYLAND! We have annual passes so this really isn't that huge of a deal, we go about 8 times a year. But our passes are blacked out during the summer and this was the first week they were valid again, so after a summer of no Disneyland Anthony and I were pretty stoked to go. Last time Noah went he was about 6 weeks old (yes, I took a 6wk old to Disneyland, judge me!). The last two times we went we left Noah with Grandma so this was really going to be the first time Noah could experience any rides. It was....underwhelming? haha! He didn't really seem to care about any of the rides. The only two he had any reaction to were Small World, he danced and seemed to enjoy it! And Pirates of the Caribbean, where he had a death grip around my neck, whining... he hated it. Maybe next time he'll go to Grandmas again. Anthony had a great trip! Other than an accident on the Dumbo ride, (upcoming post for that!) it was an awesome day.

Getting ready to go on our first ride of the day: Peter Pan

Anthony and I on the rockets

Noah and I on Dumbo

Our next stop of the week was to the New Children's Museum. I had heard good things about this place but once we got there it was seriously awesome. We spent over three hours there without even realizing how long we had been there. Everything is child friendly (duh) and interactive. They have crafts and painting, building blocks, bubble blowing, a real car that the kids could paint, and best of all a giant bouncy tube thingy!

Painting the car! The color of the day was red. Clearly.

Looking like Dexter after painting

Noah playin drums

My little men!

Inflatable tuby thingy!

Playing on the giant love sack thing

Anthonoy rockin the rock wall!

Next stop on our tour de awesome was up to Grandmas house in Oceanside. We needed to escape the East county heat and where better to go than the beach!? So we made the trip up to Oceanside and made our way down to the beach. We enjoyed ourselves so much up in Oceanside we ended up staying two nights up there and making a couple trips to the beach!

Beach baby. He LOVED it at the beach

Beach baby 2.0

My boys and I out to lunch at my favorite restaurant in Oceanside - Cafe 101

After we packed up and finally left Grandma alone, we headed out to the San Diego Zoo to meet some friends who were in from out of town. The zoo is always a good day! But unfortunately we didn't take many pictures.

hippo sittin!

We left the zoo and went straight to a birthday party, fully equipped with a bounce house and cake! What more could a kid ask for!? The next day, my final day off work we spent at Grandpa's house, swimming, snacking, and relaxing.

It was a very busy. very exhausting, but awesomely fun week. I would do it all over again in an instant. I had so much fun getting to spend some good time with my boys, time like that is so rare in our house. They really enjoyed it too, they both definitely had a look of WTH this morning when I dropped them off at daycare rather than whisking them off to the next fun adventure.

One year - Noah's birth story

One year ago today I was sitting in the living room on my exercise ball, 36 weeks pregnant. I had been on maternity leave for all of four days. I had just laid Anthony down for his nap and had turned on my latest addiction - Ghost Adventures. I was bouncing on my exercise ball, minding my own business when I felt a gush. I was shocked and confused, thinking my water broke at only 36 weeks pregnant. I ran to the bathroom to find that it wasn't water, it was blood. I went into a full on panic, calling my mom to come over and watch Anthony and telling my husband to come home from work now, that I needed to go to the hospital. The bleeding was heavy and wasn't stopping. The contractions started pretty quickly after the bleeding started. The bleeding slowed and eventually stopped, but we went to the hospital anyway because my contractions were strong and about 3 minutes apart, I was in labor.  I got to the hospital to find that I was 4cm dialated and my placenta had ripped, causing the bleeding. Noah was in no danger though so they let me proceed with my labor. To my surprise they labeled me premature. I was under the impression that 36 weeks was term, but apparently its 37. Technically I was only about 4 days shy of "term" but they still labeled us preemie.

After 5 short hours of labor and a whole two pushes, on August 18, 2011 at 9:06 pm Noah Oliver was born at 5lbs 14oz! He came into this world screaming, but quickly showed that all was not okay. He couldn't breath correctly, he was gasping and grunting for air. He wouldn't latch to nurse, he didn't even show interest, it seemed as though he didn't have that instinct yet. They let us hold him for about a half hour before the nurses were too concerned with his breathing and called up a NICU nurse who immediately took him down to the NICU.  They said they believed his issue was a combination of not fully developed lungs and that he swallowed some fluid on the way out. Words cannot describe the heartbreak and guilt I felt having my baby taken from my arms and whisked off to the intensive care unit. Making matters worse, I was told to stay in my room and recover, that I couldn't see him until morning. The next morning I got a phone call that will forever remain in my memory. They called my room from the NICU and said that I could come see him, but that he had deteriorated over night and was now on oxygen and connected to a heart monitor. Again, words do not suffice to describe the fear, hurt, guilt, and heartbreak I felt seeing my tiny little newborn covered in wires and with oxygen tubes taped to his face. His stomach pulled and his body jerked when he took in a breath because he was fighting so hard to breathe. We tried to nurse and he still showed no rooting instinct, so I started pumping.  They let me hold him for only a short time, but touch made his heart rate drop. So I spent my time by his incubator, just watching him. I looked around at the other babies in the NICU; some that had been there for months and were still so much smaller than mine. I heard alarms ringing on other incubators, I saw babies whose parents I never saw visit, I saw a baby get transferred to Children's because this hospital couldn't give him the care he required, and worst of all, I heard a pastor get called in to give a baby his last blessing. I brought home memories from my time in the NICU that I never wanted to have. I knew that our situation wasn't ideal but it was so much better than some of the babies around us, and I was eternally grateful for that. Despite our struggles, we were very blessed.

Later that day we were able to give Noah some pumped breast milk through a feeding tube. Within hours you could see an improvement. I am no where near a "breast nazi" I believe everyone makes the choices that they feel are best for them, and I am no one to judge those choices. But it is impossible for me to argue with the improvements we saw after he got breast milk in him. His stomach no longer pulled when he tried to take a breath in, you could visibly see that he was fighting less to breathe. The next day his breathing had improved so greatly that we were able to remove his oxygen tubes. The Dr told me his stats looked great but he couldn't send him home until he could show that he could eat, which he couldn't. We spent all day trying to coerce him into nursing. We would put him up to the breast and put a feeding tube in his mouth so he could make the connection that milk came from the breast. We made a little bit of progress. Slow and steady would win this race, we were determined. I came at all hours of the night to nurse him, his sucking was still very weak so he got small amounts and nursed very often, but the fact that he was nursing at all was exciting. The next day the Dr was happy enough with his improvements to send him home! After three long, upsetting days in the NICU he was finally being sent home.

In the months that followed, our breastfeeding issues remained. His suck was just not strong enough to sustain him. I was pumping and feeding him breast milk bottles as well as nursing, but it was still not quite enough. When at his 3 month check up he was only 7 pounds (.2%ile. that's POINT two) his doctor told me that something needed to change, he was unhealthy and in danger of needing to be re-hospitalized if he didn't gain some weight. I visited lactation consultants, I bought expensive "supply enhancing" pills, I ate all the foods they told you to, I pumped and supplemented breast milk bottles, but despite my best efforts, it wasn't enough for him. He was unhealthy and I needed to push aside my nursing mom pride and put his health first. I started supplementing with formula bottles and the improvement was seemingly instantaneous. Within a few weeks he shot from the .2%ile to the 15%ile. I can say happily that he is sitting in the 45% ile now days and aside from a small bout with RSV has had no further issues.

Despite his rocky start, Noah is the happiest baby I've ever seen. That may be because his brother had colic so any baby that doesn't cry all day seems like the happiest baby ever. He's happy playing with the big kids or he's happy just sitting watching everyone else play. He's crawling at the speed of light and seems to be a bit lazy, not wanting to walk. He's happy walking if you hold his hands but just doesn't seem to care to do it on his own. He babbles and chats all day every day, and loves to poke people in the eye (don't ask me why!). Before he came into the world we loved our little family of three, but we knew we could stand to expand a little bit more. Now that he is here, I couldn't imagine our family without him. We're complete. He brings so much joy into our lives and reminds us to count our blessings. Happy birthday little man, I love you more than you know.

Little tiny newborn Noey!

Anthony meeting his brother

Going home! Wearing his Padres shirt, of course.

Now! Healthy and happy. We are blessed.

One year photos

My little tiny newborn Noey bear baby is turning a year old on Saturday. I'm not sure how this happened, surely I didn't give him permission to grow up so fast. But alas, he is growing anyway and this Saturday we're going to celebrate! Before our big celebration this weekend I wanted to get his first birthday pictures taken. With Anthony we took him down to a photo place in the mall to get his pictures done thinking it would be fun to do it professionally. The pictures ultimately turned out cute but were not near the level I was expecting, especially for the money we paid. So for Noah I decided since i'm in the process of learning my DSLR camera better and I just got an awesome new lens for it, that I would just do the pictures myself. I spent some time on pinterest (of course!) getting a few ideas for props and poses then loaded up and headed out to the park where his party is going to be.

The pictures really turned out well, and I'm really glad I did it myself. But anyone that has tried to shoot a one year old knows, its not easy. AT ALL. They're squiggly and squirmy, they get bored easily, they get distracted easily and any 'poses' you have in mind you may as well kiss goodbye. I saw a really adorable picture of a little baby who was sitting holding a solitary balloon. I LOVED it! The balloon popped within 5 minutes. I'm not sure why, but every single balloon we brought with us popped.

lol right after the balloon popped. You can even see a chunk of balloon falling in front of his feet

We had a lot of these, when the balloons were still intact at least. He didn't want to take pictures, he just wanted to chase balloons.

We had a few of these. Eating grass.

And a lot of these, not paying attention. I mean, a LOT of these.

But somewhere within the 400 pictures I took I found quite a few good ones.

I love this little man so, so much. Even though he's only been around a year, I can't quite imagine my life without him. Our life makes so much sense with him in it, we feel complete now. He's the perfect contrast to his brother, and his favorite playmate. I can't wait for the years to come. Happy early birthday my Nonos.