The Walker

Sally is in the middle of her 10th month ... and she is walking!  Not just a step or two here and there anymore ... now she can travel short distances, up to 10 steps or so.  More and more she's choosing to walk instead of crawl.  She does best wearing her sneakers, which goes against everything I thought I knew about babies and walking and shoes (barefoot is best, soft shoes next best, hard soled shoes once they're established walkers, etc.)  Sean thinks the Nikes he bought her give her extra ankle support, and is very proud (of Sally, of course, but also) that the shoes he chose are working so well.  "Must be the shoes," he says, with a pleased little smile.

Hotel room mirrors are the best

Milestones and firsts abound these days.  Sally accompanied me, Umma and Baba on a trip out to Syracuse for my cousin Rachel's wedding.  And so: first airplane trips, first hotel stays, first swims, first visit to the extended family.  We realized that my first flight was to visit the Swifts (my dad's side of the family) when I was 9 months. old.  Walter's first flight was to visit the Swifts (for a wedding) when he was one year old. So Sally kept the tradition going, and she did beautifully on both flights. She showed no sign of ear pain, so she must have had a break in her semi-permanent ear infection (it's back. We had our first visit to Dr. S the ENT yesterday. Sigh. Milestones.)  She snoozed a little but was awake much of the time and pretty happy and interested in the experience.  On the flight home she made friends with a 20-month-old girl in the row behind her, which brought back great memories of Walter making friends with the baby in the row behind us on a flight back from Pennsylvania.  There's nothing quite as delightful for babies as finding each other on a plane like that.  They are so, so pleased.  The giggles! The kisses! The hand-holding!  They become friends faster in that exact context than in any other I've seen.

Dancing at the wedding

Sally approached the whole trip with an attitude of delight, and had a wonderful time, even with long stretches in the rental car, eating out and at odd times, and nap and bedtime all off schedule.  She slept quite well in the hotel rooms and was very charming and friendly with everyone she met.  Seeing her with my dear cousins and aunts and uncle made my heart very glad indeed, and I was very glad and grateful indeed that we were able to make the trip (Thank you, Umma and Baba!)  It was a beautiful wedding and a wonderful family adventure.

Sally and Walter both did some serious flourishing while they were only children for a week, but were also very relieved and happy and ready when we reunited at Umma and Baba's house.  We went to Ella's Deli in Madison and Sally got another first: her first carousel ride!  She clung to my shoulder, smiling and nervous.  Then she got braver and braver and soon she was holding onto the pole instead of me, looking all around in joy and wonder.  Walter, on the horse next to her, the old carousel veteran that he is, cheered her on and encouraged her.

On the carousel

It's good to be Sally, it really is.  Ear infections excluded, of course, but even that she manages pretty well.  We've started sleep-training her a little bit--she'll cry for five minutes or less and then go to sleep, and her sleeping has improved a lot with this change, but it makes her sad and that's hard on all of us.  Her life has many mundane aggravations: being put into her carseat, not being fed fast enough, not getting water fast enough, not getting (insert whatever Sally wants here) fast enough, having her diaper changed, having her toothbrush taken away when we're done brushing, not being allowed to imperil her life by going headfirst down the stairs, or eating small non-food objects she finds on the ground, or chewing on electrical cords, etc. She is very vocal in her displeasure and seems genuinely sad about it all. But overall I'd say she's a happy baby, who feels things very deeply, communicates well and has strong opinions and an above-average level of determination and stick-to-it-tivness.

Personality!

Occasionally I'm tempted to compare my children to other children and this way lies madness.  But it's good, too, for me to observe that there are many babies and toddlers out there who are much more laid back and content than my kids and also just as bright, talented and interesting as my kids are. I've been tempted, you see, to explain Walter and Sally's intensity as a byproduct of their brilliance, but I don't think that's necessarily true.  My kids are intense and they are brilliant. Other kids are laid back and brilliant.  They're people, and people are different, with different personalities that are shaped by all kinds of factors, mostly beyond our control.

My thoughts when I'm trying to change Sally's diaper are not this calm and reasonable, I assure you.

Sally at 10 months old is sweet, funny, ornery, fiesty, joyful, adventurous, curious, communicative, musical, loving, friendly, smiley, stubborn, defiant, snuggly and proud.  She loves Walter best of all the people in the world.  She loves Hank the Dog, too.  She loves to play catch with me: I roll her a rubber ball, she grabs it and throws it at me with alarming accuracy.  She hates being left behind--if someone she loves leaves the room she cries real tears of real sadness. She continues to love our kisses and gives beautiful kisses in return.  She waves, she claps.  She maybe signs a little bit, mostly for water, but communicates clearly enough without it. I think she said "Ball" the other day, but I'm not sure. She definitely says, "Mama," "More" and "All done," though that last one requires a lot of

Look at those teeth!

adult interpretation to understand.  She has resolutely resisted all attempts at getting her into a bedtime routine and won't sit still for stories, so we let her run around while we read at her. She enjoys all kinds of food and has a very healthy appetite. She's got two more teeth poking through on the bottom, which will bring her total to 8. She's got an adorable gap between her two top front teeth and a smile that makes everyone in the world smile back.  She's beautiful.  I watched her sleep in my arms this morning and she was just so gorgeous I couldn't stand it.  I think I got a glimpse of what she's going to look like as a grown up--she doesn't look like me or Sean or Walter, she looks like Sally, and she is just lovely.  When she stretches and yawns my heart does somersaults.

"Hey Sally dear, hey Sally dear/ We are so very glad that you're here. Hey Sally dear, Hey Sally dear/ You're loved,  you're blessed, that much is clear!"

And all the people say ...

The ninth month of Sally has been eventful so far.   Walter has been maturing by leaps and bounds, too. It makes sense that the time and energy I have to document our lives decreases in proportion to the rising number of events I'd like to document. One of the constants has been very poor sleep, mostly on the part of Sally (and her parents.)  Walter has been sleeping better with the help of Claritin ... there's an allergist visit in our future, for sure.  Sally had a reasonable night's sleep last night with the help of a few days of antibiotic and some Tylenol--she's had an ear infection since April 20.  There's an ENT visit on the calendar for her.  Uff da.  

Next time, there will be video. We were too excited!

In other news, though, last night Sally did some amazing unassisted standing.  The first time it happened I was alone with her in the living room; Sean and Walter were cooking dinner.  It sounded something like this: "OhmyGod she's standing. OhmyGod she's standing. OhmyGod she's standing.  OhmyGod she's standing. Holy cats!" (I would like to submit that this was not taking our Lord's name in vain, but in fact a very fervent prayer.  I'm not sure what cats have to do with it, but there you go.)

The second time we were all playing together in the living room and she just stood there, looking at us, totally cool while we all tried not to freak out.  Walter wanted to go over and give her a congratulatory hug; we convinced him not to.  Hank went over to lick her face and tried to gently knock her over (this is what he did when Walter started walking, too.  Hank does not approve of his babies taking risks.)  We got Hank away from her and she was STILL standing with no sign of going down.  Sean ran into the kitchen and got his phone, which of course did not work as well as one would hope.  After several blurry pictures and one reasonably clear picture, Sally was still standing. Finally, she started to lose her balance a little bit, and as she did she took a full, unassisted step to the side, stood for a few seconds more, and then landed gently on her bottom.  Sally's first step!  I suspect that she took other steps during the day at daycare, too.  They worry about parents feeling bad when kids reach milestones at daycare. So, the report was carefully worded: "Sally was really interested in trying to walk!" Also: "Today, Sally licked EVERYONE!"

This morning, Sally threw herself around with great abandon--she's in the reckless stage of learning a new skill, something I've noticed with her before. She mostly threw herself in the direction of Walter and attempted to remove his bellybutton. Repeatedly.  Walter laughed about it but agreed that she wasn't being very gentle, and appreciated my (largely futile) attempts to dissuade her. A little later Walter lifted his shirt and presented his bellybutton to her.  "Here you go, Baby Sally."  He does this all the time, mostly when he's playing with a toy and she wants it (for the record, that's all toys, always.)  He's a sweet boy and a good brother.  My goal is to teach her to respect him, too.  This morning Walter said, "Can you be gentle, Sally?"  He also said, "I call her Ben sometimes." "Ben?" "Yes, Ben." "Why do you call her Ben?" "Because I love her."

I don't know where that came from, but it makes me happy. (Another recent nickname he's tried out for her recently  is "Buddy Girl.")

While we've always been affectionate and encouraging with Walter, lately we've been taking a page from Mr. Rogers and been extra intentional about telling Walter that we love being with him, that just being himself is a wonderful thing, and that he makes us very happy.  It took awhile, and it might be a phase, but Walter has gotten much more verbally and physically affectionate in the past week or so.  The other night, he and I had this exchange at bedtime: "Walter, you make me so happy." "Jah, I do. Mama, you make me very, very happy." "Thank you, Walter.  I love you." "I love you, Mama!"

That, as you can imagine, makes me very, very happy. 

Walter can still be a challenge, and I'm guessing that when the next growth spurt hits, or the next developmental milestone, or the next ear infection, or whatever it is that seems to turn the switch in his brain on to "defiant," we'll have some very tough days/weeks again.  But we are in a good, good stretch with him, and we're all enjoying it, Walter probably most of all.  He is effusively thankful.  A sample from last night: "Thank you, Dada. This is a very, very nice dinner. Thank you for making dinner with me, Dada." He's also starting to do some neat speaking/thinking/reasoning things, like the "When I was ..." construction I've noticed other kids (particularly older siblings) use. Two recent examples: "When I was a baby, I had to take that medicine." (He was referring to Sally's Amoxicillin. I didn't have the heart to tell him that he might have to have it again someday.) Also, "When I was a dog, I ate bones." Hee.  

Sally and John

John B. visited us last weekend, which was so wonderful for so many reasons.  I think watching the people I love fall in love with my kids, and watching my kids fall in love with them, too,  is one of the greatest things in the world.  Sally and Walter were both smitten with him. Walter even told Sean, "Dada, Uncle John is my favorite."  "Favorite" is a relatively new concept for Walter, and we were all pretty thrilled with this application of it. 

John said something that has really stuck with me.  I asked him what he thought of the kids, and he noted that they are wonderful at playing.  And it's true!  Walter is creative and imaginative when he plays, more and moreso every day, in ways that just blow me away.  Sally is inquisitive and determined and joyful when she plays, with lots of big, charming smiles. The way they play says so much about them as kids, and also about us as parents, I think. And it bodes well.

I needed John's perspective to realize that. I think it was something I needed to hear. 

Sean and I have been a little overwhelmed lately.  We finally got Sally into her room, and after two relatively good nights she came down with a terrible stomach bug (Walter had it earlier in the week, too.)  She ended up staying overnight in the hospital, receiving IV fluids for dehydration and IV antibiotics for her terrible ongoing ear infection (her third course ... she's now on her fourth.)  Sean also got the stomach bug and was sick for about a week.

Sally teepin', 9 months old, with IV and tiny hospital gown

Sally got better and then had a relapse: the solution was to nurse her for 15 seconds every 30 minutes. It was awful, but it worked--she got over the stomach bug with no more trips to the hospital. And that's good, because I didn't want to have to hold her down for blood draws anymore.  I would have done it if it was needed--because of my own medical history, I can be brave that way.  But I did not want to (of course, no one does.)

I've missed a lot of work and fallen terribly behind; Sean's been burning up vacation days, too.  We're not in a great place, financially. We're not getting very much sleep.  The house is a wreck, moreso than usual, and it feels like that's not going to change anytime soon. There is a chipmunk living in our workshop.  So much feels so very, very broken. 

Walter playing dress up. Joy!

Walter's favorite song these days is Matt Maher's "All the People Said Amen."  One of our worship bands introduced it to us at church and he's been hooked ever since.  It has a great beat, a fun "whoah-oh-oh" part, and it's just very enjoyable to sing.  I think Walter likes the message, too.  He likes the part about not being alone: "You are not alone, when you are lonely/If you feel afraid/you're not the only."  Walter gets that, and he sings it with great passion.  I like "We're all broken and we're all in this together/God knows we stumble and fall."  Last night Sally and Walter and I got out the percussion instruments and sang and played a pretty rockin' version together (Sally is brilliant with the tambourine and the kazoo.  Absolutely brilliant.)  And it all came together for me in that moment.  My kids who really know how to play, who put their whole hearts into playing and learning and exploring the world with joy.  My broken, messy, beautiful life. God's promise to be there, to love us, to sustain us no matter what. We are not alone in our brokenness or our fears. "We are all the same/in need of mercy/ to be forgiven and be free. It's all we've got to lean on and thank God it's all we need!"

Amen, amen, amen.    

Tubes Part II: The Re-Tubening

In late April or so, the tube in Walter's left ear made a break for it. This is completely normal and expected--ear tubes often fall out after about 9 months in the ear. What stunk about this particular de-tubing was that, as soon as it came out, Walter immediately got a bad ear infection.  Also, the tube in his right ear stayed put and was draining perfectly.  That made the decision of what to do next a little trickier, because ideally you have one surgery to replace both tubes, rather than two surgeries to replace the tubes one at a time (or no replacement at all, if the Eustachian tube has straightened out enough to drain on its own.)

We weren't very pleased with the Ear, Nose and Throat experience at our local clinic (the doctor who forgot to show up for Walter's first tube surgery retired, and the doctor who prescribed the never-used-on-kids antibiotic after that surgery that Walter had an allergic reaction to wasn't really an option we were excited about.) So we decided to try the only pediatric ENT in our area, even though it was an hour drive and it's harder to get an appointment with her.  She's totally worth it.  Dr. S. immediately shot up into the pantheon of doctors beloved by Walter, formerly only populated by Walter's pediatrician Dr. L. and Dr. Coconut, Walter's macaw puppet.  When his ears hurt, Walter immediately asks to see Dr. S., and is very relieved and pleased when we tell him he's got an appointment.  He trusts her to make things better.  We do, too.

Dr. S's first recommendation was to wait on replacing the tube in the left ear.  Warmer weather usually means fewer colds, and fewer colds fewer opportunities for ear infections.  The longer we held out, the more likely it was that we could do both tubes at once if needed (or decide we didn't need them anymore, at all.) When he saw her, Walt's ear infection had gotten better, so we were hopeful.  And Walt was healthy ...

... for less than a week.  Then another ear infection hit--again, just the left, non-draining ear.  Dr. L.the pediatrician was not amused.  "You've got to go back to Dr. S. and get the tube back in," he said.  Dr. L. usually leaves more room for discussion than that, so I knew he really meant it.  He put Walter on what ended up being a 20 day course of Augmentin (we'd just finished a 10 day course less than a week before that, too.) Augmentin is the least tasty, most awful-smelling, most effective oral antibiotic we've used with Walter. We eventually developed a really good medicine giving and taking routine: Dada gives Walter a hug (holds his arms down) while Mama gives Walter the medicine in a syringe.  Then, Walter gets a glass of milk and a small cookie. With medicine twice a day every day for 30 days, we went through a lot of milk and cookies, and Walter got very, very good at taking his medicine.

And, with the help and blessing of Dr.'s L. and S., we set a date for surgery to replace the tube in the left ear.  When he finished his Augmentin, Walter was so healthy we wondered again if we were doing the right thing.  Then we realized he'd only been healthy for two weeks, and that our perspective on what constitutes a "healthy stretch" has gotten a little skewed. Dr. L. and Dr. S. agreed: it was time.

On Monday I got the call that Walt's surgery had been scheduled.  As we expected, it was today (Wednesday the 17th of June.) Unexpected, though, was the time ... check in at 10 am, surgery at 11. No food after midnight on Tuesday.  One cup of clear liquid allowed before 8 am on Wednesday, but nothing by mouth at all (not even water) after that.

*Kaboom* went my head as it exploded in a pure mama bear rage.

I didn't express any of this rage to the nice surgery scheduling person on the phone, thankfully.  I kept it together. I did say, pleasantly, "Wow, that's really late.  I thought young children were supposed to be scheduled first thing in the morning?" She reminded me that Dr. S. is a pediatric ENT, and Walt was scheduled as early as he possibly could be ... there were just even younger kids getting surgery ahead of him that morning. I asked about switching the surgery to another, less-busy day, but Dr. S.'s receptionist assured me that 10 am was a good time for a 20 month old in their practice, and that changing the date could result in an even later check in time.  I took a deep breath and took the appointment time as it was, and started making plans for how to get through the morning with a hungry, thirsty Walter.

Walter, as usual, had his own plans.  After a big dinner of his favorite foods (pepperoni pizza from Polito's and ice cream from Dairy Queen) Walt went to bed at about the normal time, woke up crying at 11:45 and drank some water, and then slept until we absolutely had to wake him up to get him in the car and drive to Marshfield. He was actually awake when we went into his bedroom; just chilling out calmly and quietly in his big boy bed.  He's been doing that every morning this week.  It's fantastic.  It was especially fantastic because Sean and I couldn't think of anything we could do to keep him occupied without eating if he'd woken up at his former usual wake up time: 6 am. Take a bath? No, he'd drink the bath water.  Go to the park? No, it's a ridiculously hot day, and he'd get dehydrated and need water. Go grocery shopping? No, he'd get hungry and want cheese from the deli. Play quietly inside at home?  That would work for maybe an hour.  We also thought a stroller ride around the block with Hank might be OK.  Watching TV was our emergency back up plan. But we didn't have to enact any of those plans, because at 8:45 Walt was up and dressed and cheerful and we were out the door and on our way to Marshfield.

On the long drive there, Walter played with one of his "hellos" (in this case, a leap frog music player that was a gift from Aunt Andrea, Uncle Jimmy and Cousin Casey.)  He sang along with the toy and on his own; lots of ABC's, some good counting, some Old MacDonald.  We looked for and spotted many cows, horses, trains and trucks.   I noted that the cows were brown, white and black, and Walter said, "Blue cow?" and then laughed to let us know it was a joke.  We joked about all kinds of unlikely cow colors for awhile. At one point, he asked for water, please. I took a deep breath and explained that none of us could have any water until after we saw Dr. Stone and she fixed his ears. No water or food for Mama, Dada or Walter until after the surgery.  He accepted it immediately and didn't ask about food or water again (until after the surgery.) Walter is amazing.

Walter's Mama, though, can be a little crazy when she's worried about her boy. In the waiting room I got upset because people were eating and drinking in front of Walter (he didn't notice, or noticed and didn't care.)  I nearly bit the hand off a 5 year old boy who tried to steal Walter's Elmo doll out of our diaper bag.  We were in the waiting room for 30 minutes before we could go back for pre-op, and I was sure that meant everything was going to be late and delayed all morning long.  It wasn't.  It just meant Walter got to play and run around for 30 minutes instead of going crazy in a pre-op bay for 30 minutes. The surgery was right on time.

When I heard we were still expecting surgery at 11, I started to calm down a bit, but was still wound pretty tight.  I asked the intake nurse if we could "slip him some C-R-A-C-K" during phase 2 of recovery.  Sean pointed out that we probably shouldn't ever give Walter any C-R-A-C-K. Exasperated, I said, "C-R-A-C-K-E-R-S! I stopped spelling because she knew where I was going with it!"  Then I looked a the nurse and realized she probably hadn't known, and probably was genuinely wondering if I was on C-R-A-C-K and planning to slip some to my toddler in the recovery room.

Before 

Right after that, the intake nurse remarked on how good Walter was being.  "He's doing great," I agreed.  "He's doing much better than I am."  Saying it out loud made it real, and immediately I relaxed and regained perspective.

Pre-op is pretty much a parade of people asking the same questions and explaining the same things over and over, which sounds annoying but is really comforting and reassuring before a surgery. We talked to the anesthesiologist and the nurse anesthetist. Dr. S. came in and Walter was thrilled.  A really nice nurse, Nurse K., came in and bonded beautifully with Walter. He talked to her right away, which is pretty unusual for him.  She brought him a bunch of stickers, which he put on himself, on me, on Sean and on Nurse K.  Nurse K.'s patter with Walter during the sticker-giving was based largely on gender stereotypes and almost set my teeth right back on edge. I started writing a protest song in my head titled "Even Though the Baby in my Womb is a Girl, Her Brother Can Give Her A Car Sticker Rather Than a Barbie Sticker (The Shoop Shoop: Stop Your Gender Norming Song.)"  Then I realized that Nurse K. was awesome and in a short time had built actual trust with my son, who was going to need to leave us in the pre-op bay and go by himself to surgery soon.

The plan had been for yet another nurse, Nurse H., to take Walter to the OR, but when the time came to go Walter asked Nurse K. for uppaday and wouldn't let go, so she got a mask on and took him in.  They often give a sedative to kids Walter's age about 15 minutes before surgery so they don't struggle when leaving their parents or while being put on the operating table, but Walter didn't need it.  Dr. S. said he was scared for two breaths and then the general anesthetic kicked in.

Less sedation meant a shorter recovery time, and before I could update my Facebook status the surgery was over and Walter was ready to see us.  Dr. S. reported that the right ear still looked great and healthy, so other than taking out some wax she left it and the tube alone.  The left ear drum was thick (a bad thing,) but with no infection and just a little mucus trapped behind it.  The thick eardrum scared me a bit, but Dr. S. said she found it reassuring: "If the ear had been perfectly healthy, I would have wondered why we were doing the surgery.  It's clear he still needs the tubes."

After

In recovery Walter was thirsty, hungry, "owie" and a little crabby.  Mostly he wanted us to put him down and let him walk out of the clinic. The post-op nurses discouraged us from letting him do this. But they didn't keep us too long, and on the way out Walter got to ride in a big red wagon and pick out a beanie baby to take home (he chose a very nice little yellow duck, which he told us later belongs to his Ernie doll.) We went straight to Perkins, where Walter drank some chocolate milk and didn't eat very much muffin or pancake, but did enjoy some bacon (way to jump back onto the solids train, Walter!)  By sheer force of will he stayed awake the whole ride home, and once in his bed settled in for a very nice three hour nap. He woke up bright-eyed and a little silly. We went grocery shopping and then home again for chicken taco dinner.  He had good phone and video calls with family, played wonderfully with his Sesame Street puppets and Dr. Coconut, and went to bed with some (short-lived) reluctance and a dose of Advil that we hope will see him through the night.

The first time he got tubes, Walter had a raging double ear infection that continued for months after the surgery.  We were just starting to see the benefits of the tubes when the left one came out.  I'm hopeful that, because his ear was relatively healthy already for this surgery, Walter won't have any ear infections this time. When I go back and read old posts and realize how much of his first year he spent sick, I get pretty sad.  He had a great first year in spite of it, but life is so much better when he's healthy.  So, here's praying and hoping for 9 months (at least) of a healthy-eared Walter Paul!

The 5 am Solution

We got Walt to bed pretty easily around 8 pm tonight.  Now it's 9:15 and he just woke up crying.  This does not bode well at all.

Last night he went to bed easy, woke up crying at 11 or so and fussed for awhile, then back to sleep and awake again at 2 am.  He was completely inconsolable from about 2 am to 5 am.  What changed at 5 am, you might ask?

5 am is when I gave up.  I went into his room, picked him up and cuddled him close.  He stopped crying immediately.  I put him back down in his crib.  He started to cry but calmed down when I kept a hand on his back.  When I removed my hand and lay down on the bed next to his crib, he started crying again, and crawled to the side of the crib that adjoins the bed, stuck his hand through the slats and patted me firmly on the shoulder, still crying. 

I got up again and picked him up, holding him close while climbing back into bed. We don't usually sleep in bed with Walter.  When he was a little baby, we worried about our big, heavy sleeping selves rolling onto him. As he got bigger and more able to fight us off, he didn't seem to like being in bed with us very much ... he wanted his own space.

This morning was different.  As we settled in he immediately relaxed and draped himself with great dramatic flourish across my chest, heaving a relieved and happy sigh. Every minute or so he'd pop his little head up, make sure I was still there, and give me a big smile. (I tried not to encourage this, but it was pretty cute.) As he relaxed even more he settled into a comfy spot with his arms around me and his head on my shoulder, and as he truly fell asleep he rolled gently onto the bed, still close to me but claiming a space of his own, and I wrapped an arm around his legs.

I am hoping he sleeps so much better tonight, hoping the ibuprofen holds and this new course of antibiotic ear drops begins working its magic right away. I do not plan on a repeat of my 5 am solution ... it's just not sustainable.  But I get the appeal of co-sleeping.  When he finally stopped twitching and squirming (sleeping babies aren't all that peaceful, really, or at least mine isn't) and fell into deep, still sleep all I had to do was move my hand gently to his chest and I was instantly reassured by the rise and fall, the sweet baby breaths.   

I didn't sleep.  But it was the best rest I've gotten in weeks. 

The 11th Hour, er, Month

Walter is 11 months old today! And what a day it has been.

It started early. Too early. With lots of tears, lots of croup-y whoop-y sobs, and many excellent efforts at comfort given to no avail.  We took Walter into the bathroom and steamed it up real good; I nursed him there and we sat in the dark in the steam for awhile, sweating and breathing deeply.  After some more nursing back in his room, Walt (still reluctant) went back to sleep for another hour or so.

We played a bit and got dressed for a chilly day at the farmer's market. The market was full of good things, especially peppers, which Sean is turning into goulash tonight. Walter enjoyed a HUGE breakfast of Hmong-style veggie egg roll, sweet sesame ball with red bean filling and a little bit of chicken wing. By this time he'd perked up considerably and was starting to really enjoy himself.  The enjoyment continued as we went from the farmer's market to Copps, our grocery store, where we walked in and there was a marching band playing right inside the door, seemingly there to welcome Walter on his birthday (that's how the three of us reacted, anyway.)  It was a homecoming celebration, and the whole store was very festive and free sample-filled.  All three of us got enough food via samples to constitute a lunch, which is always a cheerful thing.  Walter giggled and sang and flirted his way through the store.  On the way home he fell asleep, and even though he woke up when we got him out of the car seat, he went right back to sleep in his crib, grateful for a nap after an exciting morning.

Sean and I put away food, did some dishes that have needed doing for days, and got dinner going in the crock pot (country ribs, sauerkraut, apple and onion cooked to perfect tender goodness.  Ahhhhhhh.) We even got to nap ourselves for 30 minutes before Walt woke up again.  This time he woke up happy, and we nursed and played for a bit before I had to get ready to go officiate at a wedding.  While I was getting dressed I listened to Sean teach Walter "Baa, Baa, Black Sheep" which has now joined the ranks of songs that Walter knows, asks for by name, and participates in (he nods emphatically during the "yes, sir, yes, sir" part of the song.)

Shortly after I left for the wedding, Walter and Sean headed out to the Central Wisconsin Children's Museum, where Walter played and played and tried to keep up with/learn how to be a rapscallion from some big kids.

Sean and Walt got home not too long before I did. As I came in the door Sean let me know that Walter was F-U-S-S-Y and very tired and very nap-resistant.  We nursed and I put him back down in his crib, where he wailed so loudly that Hank had to come check in on us.  One of my favorite moments of the day, even right there in the middle of an awful time getting Walt to sleep, was looking down and seeing Hank's nose poking through the crib slats.  The baby must have smelled safe, because Hank felt OK leaving the room and I followed close behind, leaving a still-crying-but-less-frantic Walt, who fell asleep after a quick pat-pat from Daddy about 15 minutes later.

He didn't nap for very long at all, maybe half an hour. He woke up screaming.  Usually when Walter wakes up sad he calms down right away when we pick him up and take him out of his room, but this time he was inconsolable.  Like, too upset to nurse.  That's unheard of for Walter, so we got pretty worried.  I noticed there was pus coming out of his right ear ... lots of it, all down the side of his face. He was also rubbing and tugging that ear in a way I'd hoped never to see again post-tubes.  We walked around with him until he started to calm down a little, then I called the on-call ENT.  After getting up to speed on the story of the past two weeks (started oral antibiotic on Monday before surgery; tubes in a week ago Friday; added aural antibiotic drops after the surgery; finished oral antibiotic on Monday; broke out in hives all over his body on Tuesday; continued antibiotic ear drops and finished those on Wednesday; croup symptoms started on Wednesday; hives stuck around until Friday) the doc decided that prescribing anything else would be too much of a shot in the dark, and asked us to go into urgent care to get Walt's ear pus cultured.  As we got ready to go we realized that the stains from his ears on the crib linens were bloody, which we found out later is normal for infected ear drainage but which alarmed us even further at the time.

Before we left for urgent care we gave Walter some Ibuprofen and he started feeling better right away. By the time we got to the hospital he was giggling and smiling and singing again and no one believed us that he was sick and in terrible pain.  His ears were still full of grossness, though, so they were able to get a culture and we'll hopefully find out more on Monday afternoon.

Walter's good mood continued as we headed home, singing patty cake, black sheep, and row row all the way.  Sean showed me another new development from this afternoon: if you snap your fingers, Walter tries to imitate the movement and snap his fingers, too.  He's pretty close to getting it, actually. We all had delicious dinner and then Walter did quite a bit of walking/running around the kitchen, moving very fast and with great confidence and joy in this incredible new skill.  It's amazing to watch him, and unbelievable how good he's gotten at it in such a short time.

Then Sean poked a small hole in caramel apple for this month's candle-holder.  Before we sang and took pictures for Walt's birthday we made a video of us singing for my Aunt Fran's 50th birthday.  We told Walter what we were going to do and he repeated back a word that was a recognizable approximation of "birthday."  I think that, when his ears are finally free and clear, this boy is going to talk and talk and talk.

After blowing out the candle (no caramel apple for the baby. Only for the nursing mommy) we shifted into bedtime gear: quick scrub down with a wash cloth, nighttime diaper, tooth brushing, lotion, jammies, nursing, lullaby/prayer, bed.

Walter still usually cries when I put him down awake in his crib.  Tonight, though, when I picked him up and kissed his belly on our way to the crib, he giggled and smiled at me. I put him down and he stretch and sighed and smiled some more, snuggling his face into his Easter lamb's arm, and looking right at me in a loving way, even as I started to move toward the door.  It was almost more difficult to leave the room with him smiling like that than it usually is to leave the room when he's crying.

Who knows what the rest of this night will bring ... Sean's already had to go in once for a pat-pat, and the Ibuprofen will wear off around 2 am.  We may be steaming up the bathroom again, too, if his breathing gets croupy.  But right now, at this very moment, all is well.  I'm the happy, proud Mama of a remarkable 11 month old.  What a day, what a month, what an almost-year it's been!

Happy 11 Month Birthday, Walter!

Today is Tubesday

When we got back from our Michigan road trip/vacation, the day after Walter finished a course of antibiotics for an ear infection (his fourth) he started getting sick again.  As we geared up for the fifth ear infection and another round of antibiotics, we started talking tubes.  Our pediatrician was all for it, as was the ENT.  Even when he was ostensibly healthy in the few days he had between infections, Walter's ears did not look good. We scheduled the surgery to happen right away, a week after our appointment with the ENT (today.)

And then ... Walter got sick again. We called the ENT and got another course of antibiotics prescribed, hoping to head the inevitable infection off at the (very small, not very well-draining) pass. We spent four days nervously (and goopily) awaiting today ... and it all went really, really well.

Walt's Easter lamb assisted with surgery

Sure, there were rough spots. Walt had to fast after 2:30 am, which is kind of hard to explain to a 10 month old who loves to nurse upon waking.  Getting him up at 2:15 to nurse actually went really well, and getting him up again at 5:30 to go to the hospital was bad but not too too bad. He listened to his beloved magic lullaby cd from Aunt Audrey and Uncle Curtis and clung to my hand and arm which got us through the ride there.  Curiosity and stranger anxiety kept him occupied for a little while during the pre-op check in, but soon he started getting insistent about breakfast, which was after all right there in front of him.  After an hour or so he started to angrily pinch and claw at the skin on my neck and chest, at which point Sean pried him away and took him on a tour of the pre-surgery area.  We'd arrived at the hospital at 6 and surgery was supposed to start at 7 ... but the ENT was late.  He'd slept in/forgotten/thought it started at 7:30 (kind of depended on which nurse was delivering the news).  It was just 30 minutes but that makes a difference for everybody: hungry hungry Walter and his increasingly desperate parents, the four year old who was scheduled to go into surgery after us and had to wait even longer, the surgical staff who were then running late all day ... no good.

But for us, it was mostly OK.  As we walked down the hall with him to the OR we worried about the handoff at the door ... until the door opened and there was an especially pretty nurse standing there, smiling at Walter and holding out her arms.  He practically leaped.

We were in the family waiting room long enough for me to drink a small decaf coffee and not long enough to finish a sudoku. The ENT came in and told us Walt's ears were full of pus and really inflamed.  Four days of antibiotics, started right when he was first getting sick, and he still got a raging ear infection. The tubes, they were a good idea.  They drained the pus and put the tubes in with no trouble.  The ENT prescribed antibiotic ear drops to keep the tubes from getting clogged up.  4 drops in each ear twice a day ... he's done that twice now and has been incredibly brave and good both times.

Speaking of brave ... Sean and I did great.  The only point where I started to lose my cool was when they told us he would meet us back at the pre-op room and when we got there he hadn't arrived yet.  I knew he was fine, but I wanted him right then and no later.  A nurse came into view wheeling a bed with his things on it ... I completely ignored that nurse's friendly smile and wave and strained to see the nurse coming in after him, the one holding Walter.  The friendly nurse turned out to be one of our neighbors, and once I had Walt in my arms and registered that I was very grateful indeed to know that a kind neighbor had been taking care of Walter.

After nursing and some vitals checks we got to take him home, arriving around 9:30, greeted by a rather worried dog.  We gave him his medicines, nursed some more, and got him (and us) to bed until he woke up at noon, famished again.  We'd been warned about crabbiness, but for most of the day he's been very happy and chatty and active (and hungry.)  He got a little sad around 4 ... we figured his pain killers wore off about then, gave him some Advil, and he perked right back up in time for dinner and a polka or two at the Polish festival.

Our boy loves, loves a good polka.  For the rest of the night, he'd start dancing again randomly, keeping time to a polka beat I can only assume was stuck in his head.  On the way home from the festival I gave him a serious case of the giggles/snorts/hiccups and kept making him laugh until I realized it might make him lose his cabbage roll.  As strange and sometimes difficult as this day was, it was pretty wonderful to spend it together, and pretty wonderful to think of all the laughing, learning and growing he'll do more fully now with fewer ear infections.

Look out, world.  Here comes Walter.  He walks, he sings, he polkas, and his ears are draining.

On to the 10th month!

Dear Walter,

You were pretty sick, but you liked your birthday peach.

You have another ear infection, or maybe it's the same ear infection you had before our big trip to Michigan. You are a sad beeba, but today after church you took a little nap, then climbed up all the stairs from the living room to the bedroom to the bathroom and asked to take a tub. After playing in the bath, you took another nap, and then woke up right in time for Simply Folk and a wonderful family dance party.  You were all smiles, and you danced and danced with me and Daddy.  You do this wonderful thing where you lean in and put your forehead against my forehead and lean in for kisses and to rub noses.

You are ten months old and even colds and ear infections don't seem to slow you down too much. (Don't get me wrong ... it's no fun to be sick.  But you are a trooper, little Scooter.)

These are some of the things you like:
**Corn on the cob, an (empty) ice cream cone, graham crackers ... any "grown up food" you can eat, too.  You also want to drink from grown up cups and eat or drink whatever we're having (and we do share with you, within reason.)

You love your Uncle Josh. 

**New friends and familiar faces.  You are a little shy with new people at first, but you warm up pretty quickly.
**Dancing.  You have a new dance where you do a little twist with your upper body (like a doozer.)
**Exploring, mostly by crawling and cruising, but you are taking a few little steps here and there.
**Swings. Feeling the wind in your hair.
**Opening and closing the garage door.
**Interesting noises, especially mechanical noises
**Shopping carts, walks, drives, outings
**Percussion.  The whole world is your drum!
**Fountains (also, going outside when it's raining a little bit.)
**Day care, especially your teachers and your best friend, H.
**Books, especially with Umma.  You're starting to have a little more patience for stories, now, and you do all the pages in Pat the Bunny.

Things you don't like:
**Lying down to get your diaper or clothes changed
**Being sick (also: having your nose wiped and nose drops)
**Getting redirected away from danger
**Fruit and other slimy foods

Sharing!

Things that make us so, so proud of you:
**Opening your mouth and enjoying it when we brush your teeth
**Cooperating so nicely when we give you medicine
**Taking your first steps
**Climbing up the stairs (with Mama or Dada spotting you.)
**Dancing
**Singing yourself to sleep
**Going to sleep on your own, and sleeping through the night
**Trying new things, exploring
**Being so good with people; spreading joy wherever you go
**Talking
**Sharing (your food, your toys, everything)
**just being YOU

You are persistent, joyful, focused, brave, curious, strong, communicative, boisterous, brilliant, funny, and loving.

You are Walter Paul, you are 10 months old, and we love you so, so much.

Mmmmmwah,
Mama

Happy Celebrate Hank Day!

Our plan was to walk as a family in the Stevens Point 4th of July parade.  Red white and blue outfits and stroller decorating paraphernalia were purchased.  The threat of super hot weather loomed ominously and led to the purchase of a red white and blue water bottle/fan/mist-maker.

Walt's report on his second day in room 2 tipped us off that something was wrong: he spent the day sitting and quietly observing everything.  Not very Walt-like.  That night his longest stretch of sleep was maybe 2 hours.  Usually much less than that. He had trouble nursing and cried while eating, a bad sign.

So, on the morning of July 4, the day we celebrate our Independence as a nation as well as the day that Hank the Dog joined the Edison-Albright family, we prepared Walter for a trip to the urgent care clinic. As Sean headed out the door with Walter, Hank followed ... unleashed.  He went straight for our densely woodsy (or really, weedy.  Densely weedy and tick-infested) back yard.  As he made his way around the side of the house I noticed some truly motivated bunnies running just ahead of him.  He turned around and headed for the back again, where Sean caught up with him and picked him up--holding him like a baby, just like he always loved as a puppy.  He was the picture of doggy happiness.  Sean got him back into the house and we headed off to urgent care.

Walt charmed everyone at the clinic as usual, and has an ear infection, also as usual. We got the usual antibiotic prescription and headed out, now definitely for certain not going to make it to the parade. But it was OK. We went to Ranchito, our favorite Mexican restaurant, for brunch while we waited for the prescription to get filled, which is something we've wanted to do for some time. It was delicious and felt like a holiday meal, with Walter gamely trying out nibbles of rice, beans and tortilla while he flirted with the other restaurant patrons and showed off his much-improved Cheerio-eating skills. We picked up the prescription and spent the rest of the day inside, with brief outings for Sean and Hank to take care of doggy needs, and for Sean to grill us some hotdogs. And that was probably a smart way to go on such a hot day, anyway. We all took an almost two hour nap in the afternoon and spent the rest of the day playing.  Hank got his Celebrate Hank Day toy, a new nylabone which he immediately set to chewing. Walter was sick and sad and snugly but also started looking better right away and did some more "no hands!" standing, staying up without support for longer and longer intervals.  I only cried twice: once when I heard a story on the radio about active duty soldiers taking the oath of citizenship, because it was quite moving, and once when Walter looked up at me with his sad face, the one with the extended lower lip that he's made since he was a little baby, because that was pretty moving, too.

I got the baby to bed about an hour ago and have been lying on the couch with Hank on my feet since then, tired and glad and grateful for my family, furry and otherwise. It's not the day we planned, but it was a pretty good day, all things considered. Happy Celebrate Hank Day!