Jackson was a trouper last night.  The ladies that work there said they got one of the best reads they ever have on an child his age.  I guess that is good news.  The bad news is we won't know the results for 72 hours.  That means one of us has to be awake to monitor his sleeping.  Our pediatrician thinks it could be a form of acid reflux, something I don't think our ENT doctor mentioned.  However, he mentioned it could be something neurological, which if you know our story, Jackson has a neurologist and is already on meds for Myoclonic Seizures to which he is supposes to grow out of by age four or five.

It has been a stressful month with 3 hospital visits with Jackson including 2, 2 night stays and 1 ER visit for about 4 hours.  I can't express how much your prayers mean to us.  We are humbled by your kind words and so appreciative of you interceding to the Father on our behalf!  With that we will always be grateful!

Here is how you can pray specifically:

- Pray for HEALING

- Pray that God would be in Control

- Pray that the doctors have wisdom in what is going on and how to treat it

- Pray that Josiah still gets attention and isn't affected negatively by whats going on with Jackson

- Pray that God would be our provider spiritually, physically, emotionally, and financially

- Pray that God would multiply our sleep, comfort our fears, and give us supernatural peace and rest

DD was doing worse this morning, though. She has had a recurring rash in addition to the cold symptoms, and she had severe diaper rash this morning. Additionally, she's been pulling at her right ear. So I called the nurse, who recommended that I bring her in, and I did.

The diagnosis was ear infection, yeast infection, and teething. She's on antibiotics for the first and has a cream for the second. The teething will have to just run its course.

I can only thank God that she is clearly feeling better today and is substantially less fussy than she has been. Mom, on the other hand, is worn out, and the colder weather just isn't helping. I don't think that I'm pregnant, although there is a very slim possibility that I could be. I'm going to test in two weeks and see what the results say.

We missed church tonight because I had to wait for DH to finish at work before we could pick up the prescriptions, and there was an overlap at that time. I don't know whether I'm disappointed or just too exhausted to get worked up about it. We've been attending every Wednesday night for quite some time now, and I enjoy it far more than the Sunday services. I'll be attending both Saturday and Sunday this week, however, and I think I'll survive a missed Bible study. It was better, too, to keep DD away from the other babies to ensure that she doesn't make other children sick or get sicker herself.

It was one week before Christmas 1939. The Second World War had started but that meant nothing to me; I was facing my own painful battle. I was just turned seven years old, I had scarlet fever and had been sent all alone in an ambulance to an isolation hospital far from home.
I lay in the bed looking around me. It was a big room with lots of other beds but no other children. All the people in the beds were women and in a cot at the end of the room was a young baby. Everything was white - walls, ceiling, beds and bed covers. Nurses wearing big stiff white hats and white starched aprons came to take my temperature and ask me to wee in a funny shaped pan. I was wearing something the nurse had put on me - a white all-in-one with a flap at my bottom which had to be unbuttoned to go to the toilet. Like a baby, I had to stay in bed and be looked after.
A nurse woke me up early in the morning and asked me if my bowels had moved. I had nothing of my own there so whatever my bowels were, how could I know if they had moved? She laughed and explained what she wanted to know. I was brought some dark brown medicine to take.
“It isn’t very nice. Eat your banana with it,” she said, pointing to a plate on the cupboard at the side of my bed.
I soon found out that every morning the nurse came to ask me the same question with the same result. Every morning, a banana and a piece of bread and butter was placed on the cupboard for my breakfast. They were the last bananas I was to eat until the end of the war but I could not have known that then. The bread and butter had its own peculiar taste and even now, I can still recall the flavour.
When I needed a wee, I was told to call the nurse for a bedpan. I did so, to be met by howls of laughter from all those who heard me. I was mortified.
“What did you ask for?’”
“A bread pan,” I said, close to tears.
“Bedpan - not bread pan!” she laughed.
Well, it looked like a pan for frying bread in; it was nothing like the pot we kept under the bed at home.
I came to hate that pan, especially when I did my number two’s. It stank and had to be covered with a cloth. I felt so ashamed. I also wet my bed the first night I was there so I was already feeling a dirty little girl.
I felt incredibly lonely. I longed to go home but dare not say so. I had to be a good little girl and never cry or be naughty. We were not allowed visitors inside the ward. Twice a week, for half an hour, they were allowed to come and see us but they had to speak to us through the closed windows. It was bitterly cold outside but eventually my mother was allowed to speak to me through the nurses’ office window at the side of my bed. My mother had to travel on two buses to get to the hospital. There were seven at home to look after but she always came for that short visit and to leave me sixpence to spend. The money paid for pop we were allowed to buy each week.
I had been in just a week when it was Christmas Eve. My mother had been told that if she brought me some clothes to wear I would be allowed out of bed to go to a party in the other ward. She forgot. I was bitterly disappointed. No use explaining to me that she had been too busy to think about it; it just made me feel even more isolated from my family.
After they had gone, the nurse came and said that I would be allowed to go in the dressing gown she gave to me. I put it on and walked my lonely way to the other ward. Isolated from my parents and my big family and with no one to comfort me, I felt so incredibly alone and utterly miserable. I didn’t know much about parties - we never had them at home. But surely you wore pretty dresses not bedclothes? I would be an odd one out and everyone would laugh at me. I couldn’t stop the tears rolling down my cheeks. A nurse saw me and asked what was wrong. I didn’t know what to say.
“I’m cold,” I lied.
“You’re just a big baby,” she shouted and threw me a blanket. “Put that on and stop crying.”
Alone and humiliated, I walked into the other ward covered in the blanket. There was just one seat left and I sat on it. People started pulling crackers and I cheered up. I had a cracker. The lady next to me helped me to pull it. The cracker was empty.
“Gladys hasn’t anything in her cracker,” said the kindly lady next to me.
“She doesn’t deserve anything,” came the nurse’s reply.
I hung my head in shame and tried hard not to cry.

I found a pillowcase on my bed on Christmas morning. There were a few bits and bobs, sweets and an orange, but the real present was a brown baby doll. We had very few toys at home and I had never owned a doll before. I let the infant in the cot play with it because he was always crying. He pulled off the doll’s head and then did his number twos on it’s body. I didn’t fancy playing with it any more.
The other patients teased me badly. There were funny noises at night in the region of my bed. I was told I had crickets in my bed and that made me very frightened. I didn’t know what they looked like or if they would bite me. But at night, a single blue bulb shone in the centre of the ceiling. It was my fairy light and I would stare at it to find some sort of comfort until I dropped to sleep.
I hated the food. The banana breakfast was all right but we had mince for dinner nearly every day. There was a lot of gristle in it. We often had fruit for afters. Fruit brought in for the patients was chopped up and shared with everyone. My dad complained because I didn’t get the expensive grapes he brought in. I don’t think the nurses were very pleased. If our relatives brought us eggs, we had them with our bread and butter for tea. It made a change from jam.
I was in that hospital for six miserable weeks. No television in those days and we had no radio or books. Anything taken into the isolation hospital could not be brought out. My mother did bring me in a book to read but I found it very difficult. We only had comics at home and I was only on the early readers at school, so reading was a bit of a struggle. Although my mother came twice a week in rain or snow despite the long journey on the buses, it was difficult to talk through the glass and she couldn’t give me a cuddle. I was not a happy child.
Then one cold day, mother brought me my outdoor clothes and took me home. After another six weeks I was allowed back at school. I was one of the few children in the class who knew how to tell the time. My spell in hospital was not entirely wasted.

Flying from Houston to San Diego isn’t a big deal for most people. They book their reservation, endure the crowds and security checkpoints at the airport, eat the lousy packet of peanuts, and watch a movie on a screen that never seems to be in the right position to get a clear view.

This is not so for a private pilot with a good cross country platform like a Cessna 182. There is no airport line, there are no lousy peanuts, and the movie screen… well, it just doesn’t exist unless you bring a portable player. Of course, the view of the beautiful countryside racing beneath you isn’t obstructed by a 9-inch oval portal, either. In a small plane, you have complete visibility in all directions and can gaze at whatever may catch your eye – and there is much to catch your eye between Houston and San Diego.

Ok, first of all, the principal participants in this story are my lovely wife Anna, my two year-old son Nathan, and me. To make the trip more pleasant for everyone, I decided to fly at night so the non-piloting participants could sleep while the pilot soldiered on. Anna and I were eager to visit Grandma and Grandpa in San Diego. The older boys didn’t join us on this journey so it was just the three of us. We planned the whole trip meticulously and were eager to fly our longest cross-country flight ever.

I arrived at the airport earlier in the evening to fuel and preflight the plane. My plan was to grab some sleep in the FBO (Fixed Base Operator) before Anna and Nathan arrived. With a bit of a rest and some hot coffee, I planned to fly through the night until Anna could wake up and keep me company for the rest of the trip. We estimated about 9 hours to get there.

Of course, the bunks in the FBO weren’t available so I had to try and rest in the plane. That wasn’t entirely successful, though I was able to get some fitful naps in between the roar of jet engines and the whine of mosquitoes. When Anna finally arrived, I was more than ready to get in the air.

With little wind, we headed west into the inky night. There was no moon and as often typical in Texas, a very high cloud cover obscured the stars. Visibility was incredible, however, and I could see the lights of towns and houses for miles and miles. I climbed up to our cruising altitude of 10,500 feet and leveled off. The autopilot was making light work of the piloting duties so I busied myself with checking the instruments, locating airports, looking for other aircraft, and reviewing my flight plan to check actual fuel consumption against predicted consumption. Yes, I am teachable. To see what I’m talking about read here.

Anna was sort of sleeping in the back seat with Nathan lying on her chest. The back seat isn’t very wide so she was sort of laying on it sideways with her legs over the passenger seat that was folded forward. Everything was going just fine – which is usually the case right before all mayhem breaks loose. In this case, it was Nathan, and not the plane, that decided to cause an issue. He threw up.

Nathan has been flying since he was a very little tike. He’s never shown any indication of discomfort or nausea from motion. Also, there was very little motion in the plane as we were straight and level and there was no turbulence. The poor little guy was just sick. My poor wife was just covered! The poor plane smelled horrible. And, the poor pilot was beginning to succumb to the powerful suggestive sounds and smells emitting from the back seat. It was time to land – and soon.

Moments earlier, I had just turned the lights on at the Junction airport. As I fly along at night, I like to locate airports in case of an emergency. The lights can be turned on by tuning the radio to the frequency of the airport and clicking the radio microphone three to seven times. It’s very reassuring to see the lights turn on as you approach a runway and know exactly where it is in case you need it. After a few minutes, they will turn off automatically.

Now, I turned my head to find Junction and decided to head back to that airport instead of trying to determine where the next suitable spot was along my flight. I disengaged the autopilot and turned around to begin my descent into Junction. At 10,500 feet, we were going to be descending for a while.

Once I got the plane headed toward the airport, reduced the power to start a descent, and trimmed up the plane for level flight, I turned my attention to helping Anna. She stripped Nathan of his clothes and passed him forward to me. I sat him in the passenger seat and chatted with him to make sure he was feeling better. After hurling chunks – he felt much better!

The evening air was chilly and even more so at higher altitudes so I decided to remove my shirt and put it on him like a sleeper or something. What ensued would have made the Three Stooges proud! Between my glasses, my hat, my headset, and trying to continue to fly the plane, removing my shirt was a comedy of errors! The tangle of cloth and wires was almost comical but I was in no mood to laugh. I finally removed my shirt and placed it over him and was rewarded with his sweet little “tank you”.

Now, to the business at hand. We were just north of the airport and pretty much lined up on the business end of runway 12. The only problem was that we were still up around 8000 feet! Junction has an elevation of about 1750 feet so I had a little altitude to lose. Until now, I had been descending in pretty much a straight line with the exception of minor t-shirt deviations. Now, I had to circle and descend, at night, with no moon, and few visual ground references. This is the situation that can get a VFR pilot into trouble. Drawing on all my training, I kept my scan of instruments going and circled a couple of times.  I did pretty well and then remembered the old axiom: “In an emergency, let the best pilot in the plane fly.” It wasn’t really an emergency, but it was certainly a challenge.

I decided to let the best pilot in the plane do the circling to lose altitude – I switched on the autopilot. I then realized, I shouldn’t have switched it off in the first place.

With the autopilot handling the chore of keeping the plane in a steady banking turn, I focused on the rate of descent and trying to get all the information about the Junction airport that I could from my GPS. Meanwhile, Anna was trying to clean herself and the seat as much as she could with a towel I keep in the plane. Nathan had stopped chattering and was sitting still in his seat. With one last turn of the plane, we were ready to begin our final approach for landing.

That’s when Nathan threw up, again. There was no opportunity to give him a bag. He just erupted all down his shirt. I won’t disclose anything more about the moment as even now, my stomach turns at the memory. He was miserable and started crying. We were on final approach and there was nothing I could do to help him. I looked over and said, “I’m sorry son, but I have to land this plane.” It was a testimony to the good training I received that I could focus on the task at hand and land the plane even while the air smelled, my son was screaming, and my own innards were churning uncontrollably.

As we taxied to the FBO, Anna leaned forward and removed my t-shirt from Nathan and tried to console him until I stopped the plane. Once the engine stopped, we all piled out of the plane and gulped in the fresh air.

Luckily, the FBO had paper towels and restrooms we used to clean ourselves. We found a small bucket and used that to clean out the plane. We had to completely unpack the baggage compartment because the suitcase with our clean clothes was, of course, on the bottom. While Anna did her best with Nathan and the plane, I fueled up and repacked the baggage. We brewed some coffee and were ready to go.

I decided we would go ahead and make the scheduled fuel stop at El Paso even though we had just fueled the plane. I didn’t want to throw off the fuel burn information and I wasn’t too keen on researching other fueling locations along my route. We originally planned on stopping for fuel at El Paso and Yuma. Those stops would give us plenty of reserve on each leg with almost a full tank on our approach into San Diego.

Climbing back into the night sky, Anna and I wondered if that was our only adventure of the trip. It proved to be just one of many.

Coming up next: Part 2 – One Two Three…

I was hoping it was an easy diagnosis, but his doctor said he has never seen this before in 30 years of doing surgeries like Liam's. That sure makes a mom feel good. Don't get me wrong, we have a great doctor and I trust his expertise, but I wish I could have gotten more of a finite answer. He recommended giving it a week and giving Liam lots of warm baths. We hope this works and I'm calling him if it gets worse this week.

While I was at the doctor's office I thought I'd be an overprotective mom and take him to his primary care provider for the cold he's had for the last couple days. He's been stuffy with a runny nose and he's been waking up in the middle of the night, multiple times. We thought he might be waking up because he is teething (he's getting at least two teeth right now).

Turns out Mr. Liam has ear infections in both his ears! Poor little dude. I had no idea. He has NOT been grabbing his ears and he his behavior has been 'normal'. Other than waking up at night and being a bit fussy for naps, I wouldn't have any idea that he wasn't feeling 100%. So they gave me some antibiotics to treat his ears. Maybe this can inadvertently help, what I think is an infection, near his stitches.

Anyhow, I hope Liam feels better soon. I'm grateful that this is his only ear infection to date, as I had many, many when I was a baby and even ended up with tubes in my ears before I was even one years old.

Between teething, stuffy nose, two ear infections and a mysterious lump - I hope he feels better soon. Keep him in your prayers and before we know it he'll be his old rambunctious self again and we'll be praying he slows down!

Isn't he a cute little sleeper? He sticks his butt way up in the air, shoves his arms under him and crosses his feet. =) I suppose whatever works for him, right?

Current tools used to tell if young babies are in pain may underestimate how much they are hurting, according to a study published in the June issue of PLoS Medicine.

Properly gauging infant pain can be difficult. Health care providers rely on a clinical assessment of factors such as facial expressions and changes in heart rate to tell if a baby's in pain, and to estimate how much pain treatment is required for uncomfortable medical procedures.

However, London-based researchers have found that such behavioral and physiological measures may not accurately reflect an infant's pain experience, and infants can be in pain without making it immediately known.

"An infant with a low pain score based on behavioral assessment tools alone may not be pain free," the researchers write in the journal article.

Inadequate pain management not only means an infant feels immediate discomfort, it may also lead to long-term effects. Some believe that repeated pain in premature infants may be linked to attention deficit disorder, learning disorders, and behavioral problems in later childhood.

Rebeccah Slater of the University College of London and colleagues wanted to see how well current clinical pain assessment tools reflected pain in infants. Their study involved 12 infants with stable vital signs. The team compared brain activity responses to behavioral and physiological changes (such as facial expression and heart rate changes) on 33 occasions when the infants needed a heel stick for a medical reason. No heel sticks were done solely for the purpose of the study. Brain activity was measured using a noninvasive technique called near-infrared spectroscopy, which is widely used in neonatal research.

Researchers examined the relationship between brain activity and infant pain scores, which were calculated using the well-established premature infant pain profile (PIPP). PIPP assigns a value to infant behaviors, such as facial expressions, based on age.

In 10 heel stick occasions, infants had changes in pain-related brain activity without displaying a change in facial expression. Overall, the study showed that brain activity changes were more strongly linked to infant behavior changes (facial expressions) than physical changes, such as heart rate fluctuations.

The findings suggest that infants may process pain at the brain level without producing detectable behavioral changes. The lack of a grimace or similar facial expression may be due to immature muscle responses, or it truly could be an absence of emotion, the researchers say.

"Either way, the infants may not actually be pain free," the researchers conclude in the journal article. "As a result, pain assessment based on behavioral tools alone should be interpreted with caution as they could under estimate the total pain response."

     After hurling myself out of bed and running across the house expecting giant aliens to be coming through the windows or at least some blood, I entered C's room and found him sans UFOs or major injury to life or limb. "What?" I asked, not altogether nicely, yet still expecting some unseen disaster to appear before me. "Ummmm, I can't sleep. Will you snuggle with me?" Now, darn, if this isn't just adorable, and sometimes might even work, but not today. After a brief, few sentences with choice words about when it's appropriate to yell at Mommy in the wee hours, I went back to bed. It was short lived, however. Only mere minutes after I fell back to sleep, came the next most pleasant way to be awakened, which is "I NEED A WIPE!" This one is a constant occupational therapist's nightmare as it's particularly difficult to teach a body unaware, fine motor skills challenged, can't place hands on something unseen even if it is part of one's body, and still doesn't wash hands very well little person how to wipe his own bottom.

     This was day two of C staying home with a cold. He's not particularly sick, but if he overdoes it, he will be. So he's been home hanging out with his humidifier and doing his best to drive me to drink. Today, however, determined to do something productive with him, I decided we'd do a craft together. We searched the Highlights magazine craft pages, and I picked out two crafts that seemed doable and for which we had supplies. Naturally, when presented with the two options, C picked out a third. I reiterated the two choices and he picked yet another one on the page. This went on until he had chosen every single craft on the page except the two I said we could choose from. At that point, I left him in his room.

     Once he decided to participate, I asked him to get four pieces of recycled paper. Predictably, he said he wanted new paper, and I repeated the request for recycled paper. He went and picked out new paper anyway. Then he went back to his room. This went on for quite some time, during which I had the usual argument I have with myself while in the midst of these episodes. I recognize the need for bending to C's idiosyncrasies, but I also recognize the need to have a child who is capable of completing a task I request. This is a difficult balance, and one which causes great struggle for me. C is so high functioning that at times I wonder if I'm too hard on him and am forgetting the challenges he faces; that recycled paper (with printing already on one side) likely bothers him on a deep sensory level. It sounds silly, but I suspect it's true - the writing on one side probably distracts him, catches his eye, annoys him. And the constant need to debate, discuss, and argue is probably not only resultant of his feeling crummy, but also an effort to exert some control over his environment. So I feel like Bad Mommy lady, but I know giving in at this point will make all future debates and discussions far more difficult, so I hold my ground.

     When he does come around, we happily sit down to make our cut out butterflies, and my punishment for being Bad Mommy is quick to come. I promptly send the scissor blade right into my index finger, and while the blood is dripping down my arm, I am reminded of this morning's worry. It has come full circle, and I expect the UFOs to be landing out in the backyard any moment now.

Este é o texto de número 100 do Blog. Fiquei pensando em qual filme trazer. Até porque pretendo nesse mês de maio trazer filmes que mostram um universo feminino. Numa homenagem a nós Mulheres. Mesmo àquelas que não geraram filhos, carregam em si também um amor maternal. Entre alguns, escolhi esse: Irina Palm. Também pela Data de hoje: Dia do Trabalho. E Grata a Todos que por aqui passam!

Entrando no filme... Maggie (Marianne Faithfull) para conseguir dinheiro para um tratamento novo que é a última chance de salvar seu netinho, resolve procurar um trabalho. Mas para alguém sem qualificação profissional, nem experiência fora o de dona de casa, as portas se fecham. Acontece que ela não desiste.

Nessa busca eis que surge um... A princípio fica espantada, até porque era algo que nem em sonhos conhecia. Mas o amor pelo netinho, a fez voltar atrás e aceitar. O salário, as comissões eram altas. E o tratamento médico era caro. Além das posses dela e do filho.

O filme também aborda o preconceito a certos tipos de trabalho. Claro que ele não está ditando regras. Mas um pouco de consideração, até para saber o porque de algumas pessoas estarem nessa. Como a colega de trabalho diz, é preciso separar as duas pessoas. Ter consciência de que Maggie e Irina Palm eram duas pessoas diferentes. Será? Pois se a Maggie ficou até mais radiante com a chegada da Irina Palm em sua vidinha. Trouxe-lhe sangue novo correndo em suas veias. De uma coisa Maggie sabia, de que sua família e suas amigas não iriam entender, dai fez segredo. Mas de onde menos se espera, surge um abraço carinhoso.

Falar mais do filme é estragar a surpresa de vocês. O prazer em acompanhar essa Guerreira! Eu fiquei fã da Maggie! Que em vez de ficar rezando por um milagre, ela foi à luta. Arregaçou as mangas e colocou a mão na massa... E que tapa de luva que ela deu na companheira de baralho, que quis posar de dona da moral.

Só tenho uma queixa que censura besta em não mostrar o talento da Irina Palm. No mais, o filme é ótimo! De ver e rever. Nota 10! Amei o filme!

Por: Valéria Miguez.

Irina Palm. 2007. Bélgica. Direção e Roteiro: Sam Garbarski. Elenco: Marianne Faithfull, Miki Manojovic, Kevin Bishop, Siobhan Hewlett, Dorka Grylus. Gênero: Comédia, Drama. Duração: 103 minutos.

Answer:  You call a supportive friend and when hubby gets home you take a v....e....r......y long time at Target and running various other errands.  You take so long that she is in bed by the time you get back home.

Question: What do you do when your 20 month old hangs on you ALL day like a chimpanzee, won't eat, vomits all over her car seat and fusses about EVERYTHING for 2 days in a row?

Answer:  I'm not sure. I'll let you know when I catch up on laundry and regain my sanity....but something tells me the answer involves ice cream, tequila or both.

"The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms: and he shall thrust out the enemy from before thee; and shall say, Destroy them." Deuteronomy 33:2

I had slept fitfully for a few hours, when just before 2:00 this morning, I awoke, worried. I padded to the study, found the number and called the hospital.

"I'm Shirley Buxton, Rebecca Cowen's mother. How is she?"

A few hours before, my beautiful daughter had been admitted to the hospital. My beautiful daughter for whom life has shown an unusually jagged edge, and to whom rugged challenges have been thrown. My beautiful daughter who is of strong determination and who is up to it all; who loves God, His people, and her family.

"She's doing well. Asleep at the moment."

I soothed myself with God's Word, went back to bed, and slept.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________

My devotional blog is here.

Update: Tuesday, McK and I felt a lot better. I went to work though I tried to maintain distance from folks. When i got home, hubby informs me that daycare said she woke up complaining of earaches. I KNEW, dang it, that I should have brought her to the children's hospital right away. Here is the run downof what happened that night :

• put McK in bed around 9:30--a little later than usual. She watched Little Einsteins for about half an hour. I started work. That lasted about thirty minutes.
• called the AskANurse Line at 10:30 as McK was screaming and clearly trying to sleep but couldn't be calmed or comforted. Answer: wait two hours. If she doesn't calm down or sleep, go to ER; otherwise, go to clinic in morning.
• Sure enough, she fell asleep at 11:30. That lasted for about thirty minutes as well (do you see a pattern?)
• at 12 pm I woke up dear hubby and said, "Paul, wake up. We're going to the ER. Now." (I have had an average of 4 or 5 hours of sleep per night for the last week and a half, so it might not have been worded so nicely, I have to admit).
• We were admitted within, yes, 30 minutes.
• Diagnosis roughly 30 minutes later: 2 ear infections. We discussed how hubby and I had flu-like symptoms but that was ignored.
• Presription picked up 30 minutes later: ear drops every two hours, Amoxacillin, Ibuprofen.
• Returned home: roughly 2:30 am.

A night passes painfully slowly when it involves a sick child and movement in half hour increments.

Today:

• McK woke up at 5:30, the time hubby was going to work. Then she fell asleep on floor.
• Gave 6 am SOS to youngest sister whose schedule is a little more free. She agreed to be here by 9:30.
• 8 am: called campus to cancel classes
• Daughter was up at 9:30, sister arrived, and we had 30 minutes to get them re-acquainted before distance ed class began!
• Attended class
• 11 am: Hubby calls. He went to clinic and was diagnosed with flu. Was told to stay home for five days. Doctor immediately prescribes one more medication for McK, as well as TamiFlu for hubby and I (and cough syrup with codeine. Of course, we have to take it in shifts!)
• between noon and 2, I email my students, make some lunch, play with McK and sleep.
• 2:30 I feel more ill (from meds) than I have since Saturday and sleep for an hour.
• 4:30 Sister leaves. I give baby a bath. She coughs so hard she gags. We get past that incident and play some more. I've had baby duty until just half an hour ago (hubby was on the codeine).  We're nearing her bedtime; she's in high spirits, re-medicated, and watching Dora. Again. I've canceled classes for tomorrow as well.  I've been vomited on, kicked and pinched (all by daughter, not hubby, just so we're all clear). I think it's my turn for the meds and the bed.

We're not complaining. We're just trying to make it through. If you get at all achy, GO TO THE DOCTOR! The fellow Paul saw today said he's seen 50 cases of flu, often from people who had the shot, this week alone!

There is a common perception that if you're coughing, sneezing or have a low-grade fever, you must take a medication to get rid of it. In reality, coughing and sneezing are tools your body uses to get rid of viruses and irritants, and fever also helps to kill bacteria.
So if you take a drug to stop these natural protections, you are actually stopping your body's healing process -- and in the long run it will likely take you even longer to feel better.
I am even okay with time but she is scheduled to run in the AAU  Northern Section Indoor National Championship  this weekend. She was so excited about an indoor meet, so was I.

She hasn't trained in 12 days (due to illness) and she has as, I write this post a temperature and chills OOOOHHHH  What's a doctor , assistant coach mom to do. Be patient ,very patient.

Well I am doing some things right and they are all the basics we all know. Rest, lots of fluids a bit of light food to sustain energy the best she can.Lots of kisses, lots of kisses warm baths, back rubs and did I say time? Lots of time. No school either,(that means she is really sick if she isn't complaining about not going to school.) And if you can at all help it no over the counter drugs.They just don't work and can  prolong  the course of the illness. 

So to help you and  your youth athlete stay healthy follow the  tips below..... 

1.  Decrease Sugar.Eating too much sugar and too many grains decrease immune function
2.  Increase D. Inadequate vitamin D stores from not getting enough sun exposure during the summer
3.  Increase  and maintain proper Omega- 3 intake.Insufficient omega-3 intake and/or excessive omega-6 ingestion (mainly from vegetable oils)
4.  Get more rest.Not getting enough rest  can decrease immune function prolong healing.

5. Improve general Hygiene.Wash your hands frequently when appropriate(after shaking hands sneezing, bathroom,out in the public,coming from outside  to inside hyour home or wok space.)

6.Increase C intake 500mg is just not enough. I take 3,000mg/day and more when sick  or taking care of the sick ones!(see your health practitioner for information on your needs) 
 

Be Well !

 TrackMom

Millions of people use over-the-counter (OTC) cough medications every year, but a new review has shown that they may not be effective.After reviewing 25 studies of both children and adults, the researchers found that some OTC cough medicines appeared to

Millions of people use over-the-counter (OTC) cough medications every year, but a new review has shown that they may not be effective.

After reviewing 25 studies of both children and adults, the researchers found that some OTC cough medicines appeared to provide benefit, while others did not. They concluded that there is no good evidence for or against their use.

One concerning point revealed in the study was that six out of the nine studies supported by the drug industry had positive results for the medications. However, out of the 16 studies that had no conflicts of interest, only three showed positive results.

In August 2007, the U.S. Food and Drug Administration advised parents not to give cough and cold remedies to children under 2, and a panel of federal health advisors later said that children under 6 should not receive the medications either. Sources:

• Science Daily January 23, 2008

• Cochrane Database of Systematic Reviews 2008 Issue 1

None of that really prepares any of us for what happened to me last night.   My soon-to-be nine year-old son woke up at 3 am and I found him next to me crying and unable to breathe.   At first thought, it would seem that this was an asthma attack, but it wasn't.  He was stridorous not wheezing.  Stridor is a coarse sound that implies narrowing of the uppermost airway below the epiglottis and above the larynx.   Wheezing comes from lower airways and is more of a whistling sound.  I grabbed him and ran into the bathroom.  I turned on the shower full blast hot to generate some steam.   Now, cold mist is better but I didn't have any.   I told my wife to call 911. 

Watching your child struggle to breathe and waiting for an ambulance is one of the scariest things possible.   I knew he wasn't blue and listening to his chest....I knew he was exchanging air.   I was just worried that he'd tire out and stop breathing because of all of the work he was doing to breathe.  I carried him into the ambulance and my wife climbed in with him.  I stayed home with our daughter who slept through the whole thing.

Needless to say I laid back into bed feeling guilty that I couldn't go with him.  I wondered if I should try to get my partner to take call for me today.   My wife called within an hour to say that the ER said we "did the right thing".   "Fuck them," I thought.   "We're both doctors.  I had no doubt in my mind that my son needed the ER".  He received an epinephrine treatment and a large dose of steroids for Croup, an infection that he should generally be too old for. 

My wife may be the type to "hem and haw" about getting to medical attention but I am not.   When I had an accident and broke three vertebrae, I knew I had to go to the ER and my wife's only comment was "look, Kim Basinger won the Oscar!" and she followed that up with "You realize they're going to place a nasogastric tube...".   I have a very high threshold to access medical care myself because I was raised that way but I don't diagnose or treat my kids.   My son is home now...still sounding like a seal but at least breathing without difficulty.

As poor as my love life has been in the last two weeks, I will gladly give up my evening out with the wife to stay with my son.   I am disappointed that we won't be going out but I can't (in good conscience) leave my ill son with a babysitter. 

 It was dreary, dark, drizzling and cool this morning at 6:20 when I take DS2 to the school bus stop.  We didn't have much to say to each other this morning.  She was dressed really strangely since it is "wacky tacky" day at her school.  They never did such things when I was in high school. 

There was a fender bender on Route 29 this morning.  No visible damage and off to the shoulder, but still enough backup to make me 10 minutes late for work.  I made myself a cup of tea and nuked my Quaker Oats breakfast bar for 13 seconds.  Ahh, breakfast. 

I updated my charmcityscene blog this morning.  I had a comment from Joe.  I noticed he has now added a link to my blog from his.  This is an honor, he has lots of traffic and I hope to see improved traffic on my site.  I check statcounter every day.  It is pitiful.  I get 5-7 unique visitors a day and an average of 3 returning visitors, two of which are myself and NJG.   

 I have been listening to internet radio, first to WDNA and now the Diane Rehm show.  They are talking about Dracula.  I could care less.  Tis the season.

 I got to chat with NJG this morning.  He is away at a conference until tonight.  While we were talking, my mother called to let me know that DD3 is sick.  She has a fever and threw up.  My stomach was queasy yesterday afternoon but I thought nothing of it.  I should be home with her but she is fine, only interested in sleeping and not asking for me.  If she does start to cry for me I will go home early. 

Went to lunch at one as always.  It's lonely when I am so used to having company.  I went to Wendy's drive thru and ordered a baked potato and diet coke.  I pulled into a parking spot and read some more of Edson, a novel I started the other day.  It's an easy and fun read.  I got a call from NJG, he is on his way home.  He decided to skip the afternoon sessions at his conference.  I think he misses me!  Nice to know. 

Getting rain today, we need it.  It is the on again off again type, but at least we get some steady downpours.  It'll help. 

Left the office late.  Stopped by Walgreens to buy a thermometer, Tylenol meltaways and D batteries for DD3's music box.  She had a fever of 101.1, nothing to panic about.  She thinks the Tylenol tastes great (bubblegum flavor) she wants more.  Mom took the other two to church and I called NJG to ask him to come over.  DD3 was thrilled to see him.  She got into bed late, past 8.  We settled in to watch the first game of the World Series.  Boston beat the Rockies 13-1.  We ordered pizza from Dominoes and ate around 10 pm.

When I picked her up at school this evening I could see in her eyes that she didn't feel well.  She climbed on my lap at home and took little catnap.  She didn't want any supper and just stayed curled up in a blanket on the sofa.  Again - I told myself she may just be tired from a long week and tiring day.

When we went upstairs she crawled into her bed - voluntarily.  That sealed the deal.  I had to leave the state of denial I was in and move to a new state -called reality. I took her temp and administered the Motrin - the only thing she will willingly take. She requested some music and was asleep in less than five minutes.  It's official.  She's sick.

Maybe no one else does this when their child gets sick, but I start worrying about how much sleep I'm going to lose and how I will keep up with all my responsibilities because of the sleep deprivation.  Is that awful or what?  Of course it breaks my heart to see her feeling so bad, and I will do whatever necessary to help her feel better.  But way underneath it all I'm feeling selfish, and on top of that guilty - for feeling selfish.

Well, there.  I've said it.  Call the authorities.  Take my name off the nomination list for Mother of the Year.  And if the nights of rocky sleep are ahead as I suspect, be prepared for even more ridiculous, pointless and secret-revealing posts.

Do you ever feel like people are keeping score of your good mothering points and your bad mothering points?  When you read my blog do you ever get the feeling I think everyone is constantly judging me?  I kind of do think that. Especially my husband.  I always feel like when I have a bad day or things aren’t going quite right with Emily or I am stressed about being a parent and am not handling things in the ideal fashion, Scott is putting a mark down in the “No More Kids because You Can’t Handle the One We Have” Column.  I am pretty sure that I would like to have two kids but Scott is pretty sure he only wants to have one.  Neither one of us is firmly committed to their position but if you were to ask us you would think we were.  Anyway, I am always gearing up for the day when I have to argue my case (you think this is all a little crazy? You should try living in here, it is exhausting).  I figure the more “You are the Mom of the Year and Should Reproduce to Your Heart’s Content” Points I can rack up, the better my chances are of winning the inevitable argument we are going to have about having more kids.

Does this entire post make me sound a little nuts? Well, I am very, very tired and on a little bit of cold medicine and I am a little nuts.  Besides, you should read the ones I write and don’t have the nerve to post.  Perhaps I will have a better perspective next time I write.

This week, I said a relieved "good-bye" to one of the hottest summers on record and an eager "Hel-LO!" to my favorite time of year - the Fall.  Thankfully, the changing of the seasons brings some relief from the heat and humidity of the summer here in Georgia.  As the weather continues to cool down and the need for air conditioning decreases, many people begin to plan and prepare for the colder months by checking out and servicing the furnaces and heatpumps, changing the air filters, and generally making things shipshape for the days and weeks ahead.  This same preparation also reminds me of other things that need to be addressed in our Kindermusik classes in order to prepare and plan ahead to make this our best semester ever.

Sick Child Policy

Your child has been feeling kind of "punk" the past few days, and you wonder, "Should I take him (or her) to Kindermusik this week ?"  

Please follow these guidelines and, if your child has any of these symptoms, please keep him/her home:

• Fever within the last 24 hours

• Runny nose with yellow or green mucus

• Diarrhea

• Vomiting

• Sore throat or difficulty swallowing

• Lice

• Rash or spots on skin, ringworm infection

• Severe itching

• Mouth sores

• Eye discharge

• Significant tiredness, irritability, crying

• Uncontrolled coughing; Difficulty breathing, wheezing

Please be considerate of other children when deciding whether or not your child is healthy enough to attend class.  Ask yourself this important question…if your child is healthy, would you want him/her playing with another child that has your child’s symptoms?

If the answer is no, please do not bring him/her to class. If your child exhibits any of these symptoms, please be advised that in the interest of safety for all children and adults present, we will ask you to leave and make-up the class at a better time.

*******

SAFE BEHAVIOR POLICY
 

Because certain aggressive behaviors create apprehension for children and consequently ruin the class experience, these behaviors will not be tolerated. Aggressive behavior toward other children or adults will be grounds for dismissal and/or expulsion from class.

Aggressive behaviors include, but are not limited to: throwing objects at others, biting, hitting, kicking, tackling, and scratching.  Also included are behaviors that cause damage to the classrooms of Masterworks Studio,  Columbia Presbyterian Church, or Avondale First Baptist Church.  The following actions will be taken if these behaviors occur:

1. First incident: parent must remove child from that class for the remainder of class that day.

2. Second incident: parent must remove child from that class for the remainder of class that day. Additionally, the child may not attend any classes for a period of no less than two weeks.

3. Third incident: parent must remove child from that class for the remainder of class that day and child may no longer attend Kindermusik classes for the remainder of the semester.

4. Masterworks Studio reserves the right for an instructor to ask a parent to remove a child from class at any time or to deny admission to a class due to any of the above mentioned behaviors.

*******

Class Guidelines

To provide the very best Kindermusik experience for your child and everyone else in class, please follow the following guidelines:

Before class:

·          Provide snacks for your child at home. Please do not bring food or drinks to class.

·          Please leave toys, pacifiers, snacks, sippy cups, etc. at home or in the car. Your child will need to have his hands and voice free to participate.

·          Please arrive on time. All children need a few minutes to settle into a new environment, so feel free to come 5 minutes early to facilitate a comfortable learning environment.  There are always books, puppets, or instruments available at this time.

·          Listen to your Kindermusik CD frequently.  It will help a child feel a sense of familiarity. This will make the class more enjoyable for them. Unfortunately, you will get tired of it long before they do.  :-D

·          Please set your cell phone to silent or vibrate. We understand that sometimes emergencies arise and you need to take a call. In that case, please step out of the room so that your speaking does not distract the children.

·          Allergy Information: Please be aware that some children are extremely sensitive to certain foods and therefore, we ask you please do not bring food or drink into the classroom.  If you have food or a cup in your bag, please be sure it is somewhere where no child could accidentally eat or drink it.  Also, please avoid wearing heavy perfumes. 

During class:

Kindermusik is a special time for you and your child. We encourage you to use the class time to fully enjoy and participate in the activities with your child.

·          Toddlers learn by discovery and imitation. So no matter what your voice sounds like or how silly you feel, you are the child’s best teacher and they do what you model for them.

·          Kindermusik is a shared family experience.  Unlike a playgroup, Kindermusik is not a time for visiting.  Focusing on the activity will help the class move along smoothly, whereas visiting distracts all the children and parents, ultimately leading to a chaotic environment. You are always welcome to come early or stay late to visit.

·          Encourage your child by describing what she did and showing your delight. Using phrases such as “You rang the bells” or “You tapped your sticks very fast”, rather than “Good job” will foster intrinsic motivation in your child and enhance her self esteem.

·          Allow your child his or her own response. Your child’s response may be to retreat to a corner or wander around the room. Even if your child’s response is inward or different, it is still that child’s way of learning. It is difficult for parents to watch their child sit motionless or do something completely different than the rest of the class. Our philosophy asks for acceptance and respect of your child’s response. We trust the child to interact within the environment when the child is ready. Please refrain from manipulating your child’s response. It is appropriate to encourage and model.

Remember that Kindermusik is process oriented, not performance based.

About behavior:

It is perfectly normal for children to run, tumble, scream, cry, and protest. And all children will do these things. Please keep in mind, however, that some behaviors, although very natural for a child, may be disruptive during an inside activity.

[For parent of 3-5 year olds: Additionally, your child may react differently when you enter the room. This is a typical 3-5 year old reaction. They may have been fully participating until you enter, then shut down completely. Or they may have been perfectly behaved, and then suddenly act-out when you enter.]

·          If your child becomes upset or disruptive, please take her outside the room or just around the cabinet by the door, and set appropriate boundaries before returning. This helps the class move smoothly and keeps all the children focused.

·          Running is not permitted for the safety of the children. Also, please stop any “contagious behaviors” that affect the class.

·          All children have rough days. If your child is upset and unable to settle in, it is best to leave and try again another day. If your child is misbehaving, a stern warning followed by going home usually prevents the behavior’s recurrence. You are always welcome to make-up the class and try again on a better day.

After class:

·          Please try to find time to enjoy the home activity book/journal, and read the story book(s) with your child. It will only enhance the in-class experience and increase the value of your Kindermusik investment.

Now we've checked out our class guidelines and policies, and made sure they're still viable and functioning, and we're off to a terrific fall semester! 

Hope you all have a fabulous weekend!

Here I sit; watching mindless tv, waiting to hear from my husband, snuffing, sneezing and blowing my nose . . .

UPDATE: They got home about 7:00 this morning. My son had to have seven pounds of fluid ... that is ten percent of his body weight. Seems to be no reason why he has been so sick (we have dealt with some other gastrointestinal stuff over the past month). Popsicles today; BRAT diet tomorrow and they think he will be ok after that. I hope so. Thanks for the prayers and thoughts.

Related Tags: Parenting

My grandmother died a devout Christian. There was only one devil and one God. She did not believe in demons and kitchen gods anymore. These beings were relegated to folklore and superstition.

Drugstore Cowboy is one of my favorite movies. Not only because William S. Burroughs is in it. He was my creative inspiration for many years. I regret not going to see him when I had the chance. He died months later. And not only because Matt Dillion was great in it. Up until then I had only known him from Rumblefish. I never saw the Outsiders. But because the Matt Dillion's character was severely superstitious, which caused tension with the gang his character was the boss of. "Never put your hat on your bed..."

I am selectively superstitious. I don't stand chopsticks up in a bowl of rice. I cut my hair the week before the New Year and not the week after. I also don't sweep or vacuum New Year's day or the day after (to be on the safe side). I believe in ghosts and have had moments of Deja Vu. I tell myself that they are the result of anxiety, restlessness, exhaustion, and stress. I'm not very convincing.

My wife announced she was pregnant with our son the Saturday after 9/11. My wife and I waited the three months before telling anyone outside of our family. When we announced it to our friends, my coworkers wanted to celebrate but I said, No. I was afraid that bad karma from 9/11 would harm him in some way. I didn't want a big deal made. I didn't want to attract any bad luck.

Recently, our youngest son had an operation. It was a common and simple procedure. The doctors seemed confident and everyone we spoke to whose children had the same operation said it was a simple operation. My son's operation would have been simple, if he did not have an ear infection, a cough, and severe cold. It also turns out that there was a minor complication with the procedure itself. It took longer than the surgeon expected.

Everything worked out fine. He is recovering nicely on all counts (the cough and cold, the ear infection, and the operation). My wife and I were both stressed out during the weeks leading up to the operation. I refused to speak too much about it. I was afraid that speaking about it too often would jinx the operation. I wrote a brief email message to friends asking for their well wishes but that was about it. I was uncomfortable giving out any details - even to family.