Time Keeps Going

There are those things in life that sometimes feel like they just happened yesterday, even though it's been years. Things that make you realize how fast time is going by. Most are happy things, like my kids getting older or vacations we've taken. But some are horrible things. Unexpected things. And yet time keeps going.

My uncle passed away 6 years ago yesterday. And that number is something I should know, since he died right after I had Samantha and she is now 6. Yet, it seems impossible it's been 6 years. Wasn't he just right here, over the moon that we were expecting our first baby? Wasn't it just yesterday we were having Survivor nights at their house? In reality, I know it's not - that little one we were expecting is now 6 and she has two younger siblings. Survivor is in it's something like 20th season. But those memories are fresh....and maybe that's a good thing.

Maybe one of the reasons it's so hard to believe that so much time has gone by is that his passing was so unexpected. He was having a problem with his eye, he thought he might have the flu and then the bomb was dropped. Exactly two weeks after I gave birth to Samantha, I was back at the hospital because my uncle had been admitted with a broken ankle....and cancer. The fastest spreading cancer they had seen. Not even 2 days after being admitted, the cancer had spread to his entire body. He passed away that following Monday. Not even 5 days from diagnosis to death.

He never did get to meet that little baby he was so excited about. Nor the two we had after her. And oh, how I wish he had. They all would have loved eachother. I suppose I have to take solice in that my kids have some pretty kick-ass guardian angels looking over them. But I'd honestly rather them be here knowing my kids.

I don't neccessarily believe that time heals all wounds. I think there are some wounds that just can't be healed. Sure, life goes on, but because it has to. We are approaching the 12th anniversary of one grandfather's death and the 1st anniversary of another. And even though there have been a million memories in between, I still miss them both the same. So 1 year, 6 years, 12 years; expected or unexpected deaths - they should ALL still be here.

Uncle Marty, know that you are thought of often, missed daily and loved always.

Martin Eric Nelson
March 19, 1946 - March 29, 2004

I'm Still Alive

But to be honest, it felt like it was touch and go there for awhile. What? Me, melodramatic? I think not. In all seriousness, I have been recovering from the flu and it was the sickest I think I've ever been. That doesn't bode well for a stay-at-home to 3 kids, 2 of which still had to go to school. Let's just say it was a long 2 weeks. But I'm feeling better now, so that's what matters.

Now I get to spend my time cleaning up the disaster that has become my house. I tried to pick up during the day at best I could, but when making lunch for my kids was a challenge, you can guess that not much got done. And who knew that my inability to clean up anything turned in the inability for anybody in my house to clean up anything. I can't be the only one in this house who gets annoyed by clutter. They must have known I'd recover though and that eventually all of their stuff would be restored to it's correct place. It hasn't happened without a bit of bitching on my part.

There were many things I had planned to blog about, but never quite got around to. So quick recap on Team Lua: Samantha did the school musical and it was wonderful! Being a diva apparently suits her, since one day when I took her over there she got out of the van and walked away, leaving the door wide open. When I questioned her about it, she looked at me and said "Mom, stars don't close their own doors." Yep, she's only 6. Lexi starts t-ball on Wednesday and is oh so excited for it. Trying to convince her that wearing her mit to school was in fact, not a good idea proved to be challenging though. And Jack is Jack. Into everything, cute as ever (and knows it) and talking up a storm, which unfortunatly, I understand very little of.

Hopefully I'll have something more interesting to talk about soon. For now, I'm just happy to be able to lift my head without feeling like it might literally explode.

It's Who I Am

I have red hair and feckles. I am 30 years old. I have a college education. I am a wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister. And I am a mother who's child almost died.

Yesterday, somebody very close to me called because her daughter had just had a seizure and she needed advice. And she sounded so scared and I felt so far away. I've mentioned on occassion here how we almost lost Samantha, but I've never gone into detail. At least not here. And as we're approaching the 5 year anniversary of that, maybe I will. But that is for another day.

I haven't brought it up much here because in a lot of ways, I feel like a broken record. It feels like it comes up in the most random of conversations and I don't want to be that mom that is all "yeah, my child almost died." But guess what? I am that mom who's child almost died. For better or worse, it is a part of me. A part I wish wasn't there, but a part none the less. I know there are people who feel we should be over it by now, but the thing I've realized is that you never get over it. Life does get back to some sense of normalcy, you are able to sleep again, you are able to let your child of out of your sight. But then there are those times, like when they spike a fever for no reason, or they zone out just a little too long, or you can't get them to wake up to take their temperature when they are running a fever, where you are instantly brought back to that place. That place in time where you almost lost your child.

This person close to me, who experienced something similar the other day was by herself with her two girls when it happened. I was lucky in a way because I had people there with me who could help when I panicked (and I did) and who will always understand why I can't get over it. A sounding board for those days where fear strikes me. Who understand why I still cry everytime I talk about it. And who won't judge me because I'm not moving on as fast as some think I should. If she needs it, I hope I can be that person for her. Because I do get it.

Today, I was researching information online for her because she desperately wants answers and right now there aren't any. And I remember (and she's smart enough to know) how scary doing internet research can be. I figure I can be her filter. So today, I looked up what Samantha was finally diagnosed with, which was status epilepticus, which basically means a seizure that lasts longer than 30 minutes. Samantha's lasted well over 2 hours before they were medically able to stop it. But while reading, I came across this:

Status epilepticus (SE) is a life-threatening condition in which the brain is in a state of persistent seizure. Definitions vary, but traditionally it is defined as one continuous unremitting seizure lasting longer than 30 minutes [1], or recurrent seizures without regaining consciousness between seizures for greater than 30 minutes (or shorter with medical intervention). There is some evidence that 5 minutes is sufficient to damage neurons and that seizures are unlikely to self-terminate by that time. First aid guidelines for seizures state that an ambulance should be called for seizures lasting longer than 5 minutes.[2] The mortality rate of status epilepticus is very high especially if treatment is not intiated quickly.[3]
(courtesy of wikipedia)

I knew we had been close to losing her, but I didn't know this. Even almost 5 years later, I didn't know this. And it brought to my knees again, so thankful for everybody around that day. To my stepmother who knew just by the look on my face and the tone in my voice when I said "help me" that she needed to call 911. To my brother-in-law who insisted she be brought to the better hospital even though it was further away because we didn't live around there and knew nothing about the hospitals. To the ER doctor, who later admitted she didn't know if it was a seizure and took her best guess. To my dad, and my sisters and my grandmother who held our hands and let us cry, who assured us she'd be fine, who sat in the emergency room, away from us with very little news, but who we knew were there fighting for our little girl on the worst night of our lives.

I went on to read the following

About one in five, a total of 42,000 annually in the United States, will die within 30 days of having an initial status epilepticus seizure.

I didn't know this either. And it's better I didn't. We were barely getting any sleep as it was, so this would have completely done us in. And it proves to me that we do have a miracle living with us in our newly 6 year old daughter. She beat the odds, when they didn't think she would.

But I do know, and I guess I always did, that I had/have reason to be scared. Her seizure wasn't common, it was serious and it was life-threatening. I am not exaggerating when I say that. I am not lying when I say we came minutes from losing her (per the ER director, btw, not my estimate). That whether fair or not, when people told me about how their neighbor's cousin's son had one and he was fine, it was ok for me to be angry (although never at the person because I do understand they were only trying to help) and to explain "this was different." Because it was.

And so, I will continue to talk about it because it's a part of who I am. And I will continue to be amazed by the young lady she is becoming and I will always be remember how lucky we are to still have her here with us. But there is a part of me that will always be a mother who's child almost died.

My Baby Girl is 6!

It feels like just the other day that I wrote about Samantha turning 5 and yet in the blink of an eye, here we are, already celebrating her 6th birthday. I was so full of worry then about her starting kindergarten, about her spending so much time away from me, about her growing up. And now, she is less than three months away from finishing her kindergarten year, a place where she not only met my hopes for her, but far exceeded them. I could not be more proud!

Samantha, this last year has been an amazing one for you, and it turn for me. I just can't believe how fast it went! You love kindergarten and are doing so well in it. You are reading and writing above grade level, you scored 100% on the mid-year math test and your teacher says you love school. I can only hope that you continue to have this kind of passion and drive in all you do. You are still doing ballet, but you have now added the school musical and cheerleading to the mix. We are busy, that's for sure.

We still have a test of wills, you and I. Probably because we are so much alike. You have a serious attitude, which are working on, but I hazard to guess comes with the age. Finding and pushing (a bit) those limits. But you are also amazingly sweet. You are helpful beyond words, loving and so understanding. I am so proud to be your mother.

It is hard to believe my darling girl, that it has been 6 years since you went from this

to this

Can we slow down the clock now?

Happy 6th Birthday Samantha! May your year be filled with love, laughter & fun!

I'm Officially Old

Over the last year or so, I've wondered what makes me old.

Is it that I turned 30 last August? Nope.

Is it that I have 3 kids? Nope.

It's because of what I did yesterday. I became old the second I lost my ever-lovin' mind and decided I was as flexible and/or agile as Lexi was. She wanted me to walk like a crab - or her version of it anyway and so I obliged, convinced I could do it. And I did.

Except NOW my wrist hurts! Like I sprained it. Which proves two things - 1) I am horribly out of shape and 2) I'm an idiot for even thinking I could do that without repercussions.

Did I learn nothing from my own mother, who at about my age was convinced that she could do a somersault with me and ended up throwing out her back?

So there you have it friends. You are officially old the first time you think you can do something physical the same way your children can. And then actually try it.

And I Spoke Too Soon...

Just when I thought our week couldn't get worse, it did. And I'm having a really hard time finding the silver lining anymore! Thursday, Nacho emailed me to tell me he was feeling horrible, so I nagged urged him to make a doctors appointment since it seemed he was getting worse instead of better. He came and got the two youngest ones from me on his way home from work, since Samantha & I had something to do at her school and told me he had a 7:30pm appointment. I didn't even know they had regular appointments at that time of night, but that would have been useful to know earlier in the week. Anyway, when I got home he was complaining that his eye hurt, so I turned on the light and his eye was pink. He has pink eye! How did that happen? He is religious about his hand washing and he can't blame the kids. He went the doctors and was also diagnosed with an ear infection and a sinus infection. By the time he got home the pink eye had spread to the other eye.

The next morning, I left the baby home with Nacho, who had to call in sick, while I took the girls to school. When I got home the baby was awake....and his eyes were crusty, wet and swollen, but not pink. After a not so quick phone call to the advice line I was told to bring him in later that morning to be checked. And yes, he does have pink eye as well. Nacho and Jack were together for a total of 15 minutes on Thursday and they managed to share the germs. I also found out that while the ear infection that I knew about on Tuesday had cleared up, his other ear now had a horrible one that would require antibiotics.

So for anybody counting, that is 4 doctor visits in 5 days for us. Seriously, I think the pediatricians office is beginning to wonder about me. Because normally we are the family that only comes in for routine well checks and nothing more. And they saw me 3x this past week. I'm glad I went because it was needed, but I've seen enough doctors for awhile. And the way Jack is reacting to having t take the medicine we keep giving him, I'm guessing he has too.

Thank God this weekend has started out as a great one because I'm not sure how much more I can take. It's taking all I have to make sure the girls & I don't get this...and I'll be amazed if I'm successful in that. Knocking on lots & lots of wood right now......

Finding the Silver Lining

This week has turned out to be one of craptastic proportions. But I'm trying to change "my glass half empty" approach to things, which admittedly took a lot of work this week, and find the silver lining.

Sunday, Valentine's Day, started off pretty good. We went over to my mom's where Nacho made brunch for all of us. It was great. Until Samantha started complaining that her ear hurt. I knew immidiately it was an ear infection, even though she's only had two before this. I have also learned from those two prior ones and subsequent doctors trips, that she doesn't start complaining until her ear drum is bright red and the verge of bursting. This should be no big deal - we take her home, give her some Motrin and let her rest or take her to the doctor - except we have plans later in the day with other people, with (not so cheap) tickets already bought. Before you get all judgy-mcjudugerson on me, I would have no hesitation in canceling any plans if my children were sick. She however burst into tears at the idea of missing any of this. So we dosed her up with Motrin and off we went.

But you know what? We had a blast. We spent the afternoon at Safari West, which is simply amazing. We had the best tour guide ever and got closer to animals than I thought we ever could. There were laughs and giggles and squeals and lots of hugs & thank you's. And my little sickie.....well, she overcame one of her fears and rode on top of the jeep.

(Samantha riding on the top of the Jeep)

(Jack with our awesome tour guide Leslie)

But now it was Monday, and my sickie was still sick. So I made her a doctors appointment, on a 70 degree day, that she had off. I paid a ridiculous copay to see a doctor who confirmed that yes, she did have an ear infection and no, they weren't giving us anything for it, to just keep treating it the way we were. So basically I paid to have somebody tell me something I already knew.

But you know what....we're lucky we even have insurance. And she was able to check her lungs, throat, etc to make sure it was anything more, which was a relief because with everything going around, I was worried. And although it's not how I would have chosen to spend it, I will take one on one time with my oldest any day.

By Tuesday, Samantha was feeling better and off to school. Lexi had ballet, so off the rest of us went. With about 10 minutes left in her class, Jack trips and hits his head on the metal arm of a chair. He cries for a second, I pick him and he seems fine. Until he looks up and I see the huge gash above his eye that is dripping blood. Great. Get him cleaned up, get Lexi and we are on our way back to the doctors again. After waiting forever (which I actually expected since we didn't have an appointment), they tell me that yes, he is going to need some type of closure for it, but they don't do them there and I will have to take to him to ER, a half hour away. So now, I've got a semi-bleeding toddler & a preschooler with me and a Kindergartner who is an hour away from getting out of school. Called Nacho and told him he had to pick Samantha up while I took the other two. Luckily, they were able to see him fairly quickly in the ER, but that was another outrageous copay. They glued (Dermabond) him back up, gave him some stickers and we were finally on our way home.

But you know what? He is fine! He is as happy as he always is. He's leaving it alone and he didn't need stitches! And I didn't panic in the midst of this mini-crisis. Except for needing help with the logistics of picking up one of our children, I did it! I also learned that the group of girls Lexi dances with have amazing mothers. The minute they saw he was bleeding one handed me wipe to clean him up, one ran upstairs to get Lexi out of class for me, one got her shoes on and our bags packed and helped me get everything to the car. In a situation where I may be felt slightly overwhelmed, they stepped up and gave me focus. And if there is a scar.....it adds character!

(He doesn't look to worse for wear)

So yesterday, Wednesday, I was really hoping for a calm day. And it started that way. The girls both had school and Jack napped most of the morning (probably from missing his naps the day before), so I was able to get a few things done. After we got home from getting Lexi, I walked over to this desk thing we have to get a pencil. And my foot got caught in the cord of our netbook and pulled it crashing to the floor. When I finally got it turned back on, the screen was cracked. Not in literal pieces, but the LCD or whatever it looks like a window that what hit by a rock. Besides the cost to buy a new screen (which Nacho believes we can do) in an already expensive week, I'm angry at myself for being so careless. And I'm admittely lost without my ability to sit downstairs on the couch and surf the web.

But you know what? Last night I was fully engaged in my family and it was a refreshing feeling. Instead of reading blogs and playing endless games of Bejeweled Blitz on Facebook, I did this:

And that is the best silver lining there is.