Happy Christmas... Or ummm, Halloween?

Even though we have switched holidays several times, I can't continue to let the days pass without posting my kids' awesome Halloween costumes this year. 

Ben had his heart set on being Harry Potter.  He had wanted this costume for a long time.  This was the year he finally talked his dad into buying it.  He was the perfect Harry, messy hair and all.

Will really wanted to be Harry Potter too, but you can't have two Harry Potters in one family, so he decided to be a Death Eater instead.  The only problem was that they only make adult-sized Death Eater costumes.  So Will, being the creative genius that he is, found his Dad's hooded wool coat, made his own Death Eater mask with poster board, pencil (yes, he drew that himself), and glitter, and voila, Death Eater.  He and Harry battled all night.

   
Kate wasn't sure what she wanted to be.  She ended wearing a Pete the Cat costume to school for "Literature Day," but wanted a different costume for Trick-or-Treating.  When digging out the coat for Will, I came across my old black leather jacket and suggested she be one of the girl bikers from her current fave movie, Teen Beach Movie.  She said no, she wanted to be the biker gang leader, Butchy.  She came up with this costume all on her own.  Old black vest, my old sunglasses, black gloves with the fingers cut off: check, check, and check. 

Jack changed his mind 47 times before he put his costume on.  Thankfully I have a large stash of preschool dress-up clothes.  Dragon? Bob the Builder? Buzz Lightyear? Woody? He seriously considered them all before deciding on Puppy Dog. Good choice, son, even if you won't wear the hood.

And then there was Tim.  A ceiling fan.  Geddit? And notice Jack decided to be a dragon this time around, still sans hood.  Throw in a cute kitty cat and a super hero to make it a wonderful Halloween.

And for the record, when did Halloween start lasting a whole week?  Sunday they had a choir party, Wednesday was Trunk-or-Treat at church, Thursday was "Literature Day," and the actual Trick-or-Treating was postponed until Friday because of dangerously high winds.  It seriously makes for some crazy children when Halloween gets celebrated four times over the course of six days. I think it is time to scale it back, Muhrica.

Jack's Version of the Truth

Jack is three. 

In other words, when we ask Jack to tell us what happened, we often get interesting versions of the truth.

Story 1: Jack and I were home alone.  I came into the living room to find toys and pillows strewn everywhere.
Me:  Jack, where did all this come from?  Who made this mess?
Jack:  Ummmm, Ben do it.
Me.: Ben is at school.  I don't think he did it.
Jack: Ummmm, Will do it.
Me: Will is at school. I don't think he did it either.
Jack: Ummmm, Kate do it.
Me:  Jack, Kate did not do this.  She is at school.  Did you make this mess?
Jack: (Hangs head) Sowwy, Mommy.

Story 2: A large bowl of Halloween candy was accidentally left on the kitchen table, where Jack happened to be sitting alone while he finished his ONE sucker.  Tim goes into the kitchen to find wrappers everywhere and Jack sticky.
Tim: Jack, did you eat this candy?
Jack: No.
Tim: (Going through the wrappers) Did you eat the starburst?
Jack: No
Tim: Did you eat the smarties?
Jack: No
Tim: Did you eat the suckers?
Jack: No.
Tim: Did you eat the candy in your mouth right now?
Jack: No.

Story 3: The three big kids have a bad habit of leaving their handheld video games lying around.  I often come in a room to find Jack sitting with the game on his lap.  He is not allowed to play anytime he wants, but only in certain circumstances.
Me: Jack, are you playing the DS?
Jack: (Closes the game quickly, and looks up at the ceiling in a super-innocent-I-have-no-idea-what-you-are-talking-about way. I swear if he could whistle while he looks up it would completely top off the act.)
Me: Jack, put the game away.
Jack: Sowwy, Mommy.

It is a good think that I have raised three other three-year olds, or I might think I have a compulsive liar on my hands. 

Kate's Bone Graft, Part 3

Good, good news!  We visited Dr. N's office today, where he looked at her hip, looked in her mouth, and declared that she can eat and do whatever she likes. Yay!  So, all the way up the stairs to the parking lot I heard, "Can I eat tortilla chips?  Can I eat hibachi?  Can I eat gum?" And into the car, "Can I play on the playground at recess?  Can I go to gym?  Can I eat Halloween candy?  Can I eat the car?"

Um, no on the car, dear, but yes to the rest. Silly, silly girl.

And as we drive home, in the rain and high wind that caused tonight's Trick-or-Treating to be cancelled I hear, "Can I ride my bike when we get home?"

Kate's Bone Graft, Part 2

Warning: This information is largely for those who are looking for information on bone grafts in cleft kids, including myself since we will be doing this again in 4-5 years, but I won't remember any of this by then.  All of it will be way to boring for most of you.

 Pre-op

Kate went in for surgery early on October 3rd. Dr. N. had scheduled the bone graft to be done at a nearby hospital that we hadn't used before.  Check-in was smooth, although we had to repeat the same information to the nurses several times because they both seemed to keep losing the information they just collected.  The anesthesiologists were very nice, and one of them ended up holding Kate while she "went to sleep."

The surgery went very well, and Dr. N. was able to drill down into her right hip (iliac crest), remove some shavings, and then place them in her gumline to complete her upper jaw.  It is actually much more complicated than that, but that is as much of it as I understand, so that is all you will get from me on that topic, other than to say no donor, cadaver, or synthetic bone was used.  Dr. N. thought he would need to pull the left canine and molar (both baby teeth) so that he would have the space to repair the alveolar ridge, but thankfully he only had to pull the canine.  That left him with enough room to work. The hole was triangle-shaped, and it had actually be growing in the last year.  Before that it had shrunk it just a tiny hole.  

The recovery room was difficult, but only because it is yucky coming off the anesthesia.  That half-awake-where-am-I feeling isn't much fun.  And about two minutes after waking up she asked when she could watch Teen Beach Movie (ok, it was longer than that, but not much).

Once we got upstairs, we got settled in and popped in a movie, someone came around and asked if Kate had enjoyed her lunch.  I was confused by this question since Kate was on a clear liquid diet, having just had surgery on her mouth two hours before, but I said, "No."  The well-meaning tech then proceeded to ask Kate if she would like her to order some chicken nuggets for her for lunch.  Ummm, no.  Clear liquid diet.  She then apologized and had some broth sent up, which Kate did enjoy very much eat without complaining.

We spent the rest of the day in the bed watching as many Disney movies and TV shows that we could squeeze in.  She was not interested in sleep.  At all.  She did so well eating and going to the bathroom, that by 5pm, Dr. N. said that she could go home in the morning as soon as we were ready, and she could eat soft foods that didn't require front teeth (pudding, ice cream, mashed potatoes, etc).  Food services immediately brought her a sandwich.  The tech was in the room when that happened, so this time nice tech lady sent them back with instructions to bring her more broth and some ice cream.  I was just thankful I didn't have be rude again. I had already done enough of that, as you will see below. 

 Mmmm, ice cream and movies

There is no pediatric unit at this hospital, which means that some of the folks didn't know what to do with her.  We had a day nurse that did not understand pediatric pain management.  Usually, pediatric nurses come in and say, "We don't want her to be in any pain, so we will give the meds regularly until tomorrow morning, and then we will assess where we are and what she needs.  You just focus on getting liquids in her."  But this was not a pediatric nurse.  I had to call her every single time meds were needed, and when she brought them it took forever. She also expected my six-year old daughter to rate her pain on a scale of 1-10.  Puh-leaze.  Just the week before, Will had tried to explain this concept to her.  It wasn't going to happen.  She said 5 or 6 every single time, whether she was fine or in tears.  I asked why she couldn't just bring the meds on a schedule. The mean nurse said that Kate had to ask for them. As if a six-year old has the life experience to predict when her pain meds are going to wear off and when she might need more. 

When the night nurse showed up, I asked her right off the bat what our pain management plan was.  She said, "Well, the patient is supposed to ask for pain meds."  I glared.  She said, "Or I could go ahead and bring them in every four hours."  Yes, that seems like an excellent idea.  Why don't you do that?

And so the night went.  We didn't get much sleep, but her pain was well-managed.  Somewhere around 6am we all zonked out and were dead to the world until about 8:30.  And while we slept the day nurse came back.  I woke up to Kate beside me crying because she was more than an hour overdue for her dose.  I buzzed for the nurse.  No answer.  I stomped down the hall, but she was nowhere.  Finally the well-meaning tech comes in, takes one look at us, and offers to find another nurse to administer the medicine.  When our nurse finally came, I asked to be discharged immediately.  I knew I could do a better job administering meds at home than this lady could.

Overall our experience was fine, and there were even a couple of great folks we came across. (Kate even commented to me how the nice tech went above and beyond to make her comfortable.)  However, I was thrilled to get out of there and back home.

For the rest of Friday and Saturday, Kate was in a bit of pain, and I kept her on a regular schedule with her medicines.  She ate a lot of fried eggs and milk shakes, and she watched Teen Beach Movie.  A lot. (She stopped counting at eleven.)  Although she didn't have any swelling in her mouth on Thursday, there was considerable swelling on Friday and Saturday.  By Sunday morning it had disappeared. I woke up and heard her sweet voice singing and then asking for food.  I smiled, and she said, "I am feeling like myself again." YAY!

After that she continually got better.  We made her walk laps around the inside of the house every day, and over the course of about ten days she gradually went from bent over and hobbling to standing up straight and walking without a limp.  After a week, Dr. N. cleared her to eat soft meats cut up small, and anything she didn't have to tear at with her front teeth.  Crunchy, hard foods are still off limits.

As to the success of the surgery, everything looks great.  It is still too soon to tell if the bone is growing or if it has failed, but there no reason to think that there is a problem.  Hopefully, the worst is over, and it is all down hill from here.

Last, lots of people have asked me two specific questions:

1. Is this Kate's last surgery?  No, there will be at least one more to repair the hole in her right eardrum and to do a lip revision to address some of the muscle issues going on.  Hopefully it will help with her speech.  I can't say if there will be more in the future, since it will be up to her when she is older if she wants any more revisions done.  And of course, this is assuming no p-flaps, grafts, or anything else needed.

2.  Will Jack have this surgery done?  Yes.  Although his clefts in his alveolar ridge aren't visible without an x-ray, he does have bone missing on both sides of his upper jaw.  In 4-5 years we will do this all over again with him, although probably with a different team of doctors.  One of their doctors once said to me that you don't switch trains while they are in motion.  In other words, stick with one team until the palate repairs are done.  Because Kate's plastic surgeon had retired, we chose a different team for Jack.  That team actually has two oral surgeons we can choose from.  Now that Kate's palate repair is complete (fingers crossed), we will probably move her to that team as well, just to make our lives a little more simple.  Dr. L will do Kate's lip revision, and probably Jack's bone grafts too. 

Kate's Bone Graft, Part 1

Kate's bone graft really wasn't on our radar last year. It was something that the doctors said she would need when she was about eight, so although we knew it was out there in the future, we didn't spend too much time pondering it.  However, that changed when we saw Dr. N. at the Commission back in November. He wanted to go ahead and get X-rays of her mouth, so that he could track the growth of her mouth and determine when the surgery would be.  Dr. N. is an oral surgeon who has worked with Kate's (now retired) plastic surgeon for 30 years.  I asked him once what the likelihood of a bone graft failure was, and he told me that he had one fail once.  Once.  OK, you get the job. 

Kate is missing her left lateral incisor - aka, the tooth that doctors sometimes use to decide when to do this surgery. Because of this, there was a wider window of time to get it done.  Dr. N. said that either the summer of 2013 or 2014 would be fine, or even later if we needed to wait for whatever reason.  We went home that day thinking 2014 sounded fine with us. Or later.

Then in the spring a couple different things happened that caused us to start reconsidering.  First, the central incisor started coming in at a weird angle.  And when I say weird, I mean it was pointing straight out and the bottom edge was vertical and pressing on her lip.  Thankfully it has now started to rotate itself down into a better position, but it still has a way to go, and it irritates her upper lip.

Second, the other three lateral incisors started to erupt, meaning that her jaw was close to the right stage of growth for the bone graft to happen now.  This was surprising since Will still has one of his baby lateral incisors, and at the time this happened, he had two or three.

Third, one day at a visit to Jack's plastic surgeon, Dr. L. was making small talk with Kate and got this look on his face that meant he noticed something.  He asked her to start making faces (lip puckers, etc.), and according to him, all of Kate's upper lip muscles aren't properly connected.  That was news to us, since her (now retired) surgeon never mentioned it.  So I started making appointments and asking questions.  Within a very short amount of time we saw the other members of Kate's plastic surgery team (who thought there was no muscle issue but wanted to do some work to minimize the scar - I said no; they also said that they would work with either Dr. N for the bone graft, or their ENT for an ear drum repair, but not our ENT), an orthodontist (who said he would normally do a palate expansion on a child getting ready for a bone graft, but wasn't going to touch that front tooth with a ten foot pole because it could fall out if we start shifting things around), her ENT (yes, we can do her ear drum repair when we do a lip revision; no, we can't do an ear drum repair when we do a bone graft), and three different speech therapists (who all agreed with Dr. L., something was amiss with that front lip).

By this time it was May of 2013, and honestly it was too late for a summer 2013 bone graft, what with vacations and all (ours and Dr. N's).  Plus, was had to make decisions about which surgeries to do and which ones could/should be combined.  I consulted with Dr. L through all of this too, even though he has never seen Kate as a patient.  I decided to wait until summer 2014 so that she would have time to heal, and I would have time to mull over the choices.  There was no reason to rush.

As we considered, the decision was made to have Dr. N. do the bone graft, and then later, after she was healed we would have Dr. L do a major lip revision while Dr. M (ENT) do a ear drum repair at the same time.  Three birds with two stones.  

As summer rolled by, I became more and more thankful that I hadn't scheduled a bone graft.  Talk about busy!  We didn't slow down at all, and as per usual, we barely saw Tim except on vacation.  Also as the summer rolled by, I realized that there was no way I could schedule a bone graft for next summer either.  It wasn't going to be any better!  I knew he was suggesting summer because it is when lots of people's lives slow down, but let's face it, we aren't "lots of people."

I called Dr. N's surgical coordinator in August to discuss the possibility of doing it over fall break instead.  She suggested the Thursday before break, and then Kate would have eleven days to recover before school resumed.  Mimi could come up and care for the boys, then they could be farmed out when we got home from the hospital on Friday.

And that is what we did. 

(Stay tuned for Part 2.)

First Day of School

Shockingly, I did not wish away most of the summer like I have in the past. Regardless, the first day of school came in August anyway.  I don't take the kids on the first day of school.  It is one of the special daddy jobs to take the kids out for breakfast on the first day and then drop them off.

Ben is a fifth grader, and is having a good year so far.  He told me he is glad he isn't in sixth yet (Me too!).  Will is a third grader, and as you can see, was not thrilled about the first day of school.  Things are going better now though.  Kate is super-excited to be a first grader and go to full-day school!  She is already reading chapter books and acing spelling tests.  

Now that Jack is a big three-year old boy, he goes to school two mornings a week too.  He started in September, and on that fine day he also chose his breakfast wisely.  He loves what he calls, "Ih-ee-lay!"

Jack loves school, where he has the same preschool teachers that Kate had, and he receives speech services.  He comes home everyday trying to tell me what he had for lunch (he always says peanut butter or "sketti," but I seriously doubt that).  And yes, in case you were wondering, I am enjoying my TWO child-free mornings a week.  That's how I found time to blog again last Wednesday.  Although, to be honest, all I usually get done is grocery shopping, a walk, and a shower.  It's the small things.

Love you, kids - I am so proud to be your mama!

Summer Vacation: Hilton Head Island

I seem to be jumping around all over the place in my blogging, but there are certain things I want to remember from the past four months, and recording them seems to be a priority over organization at the moment.

I don't know if my family would agree with me or not, but this year's summer vacation was one of my favorites.  I had been feeling growing stress in our lives and in our relationships with each other, and I really wanted to spend a whole week focused and loving on each other. 

As a kid, one of my favorite places on the planet was Hilton Head Island because my family vacationed there frequently. I have so many precious memories from my childhood there, and Tim and I had been talking about taking the kids there someday.  I found a great deal on a little condo near the beach, and voila'.  HHI here we come.

One of the things I was most looking forward to was the food.  (Hudson's... yum.)  We ate a lot of my old favorite restaurants (Ben liked my favorite pizza place so much that he said he hoped to take his kids there someday), and we found a few new favorites too (hello, Kenny B's fried shrimp).

Much time was spent swimming, jumping waves, and digging holes in the sand.  More than anything, we just spent time together. It was so so good to be free from distractions and to just be.  Together.  We learned new things about each other. We had important conversations.  And we slowed down.  Which was awesome.  Oh, and did I mention that the condo didn't have internet access?  I had no idea how great it would be to be disconnected from the rest of the world.  It was awesome.  (Have I mentioned that it was awesome?)

I wish we could take trips like that more often.  I had no idea how important it would be for me to reconnect with my kids, and I can already feel the stress of the school year, work, and busy schedules pulling at those connections.  But my hope is that I will find small ways to recreate those moments where we turn the phones off, look each other in the eye, and talk.  Plus, I am still hoping for some time at the beach next summer!

Birthday Roundup

Since I haven't blogged any of my kids' birthdays this year, I might as well do it in one fell swoop. 

Let's start with Ben. My eldest child turned 11 this year.  He is in his last year of elementary school, and I can hardly stand it.  I really just want to freeze time right now because I am enjoying him so much.  He is smart, funny, and loves his family so much.  We can have interesting conversations about what he is learning in school, his faith, and his love of his favorite books.  There are days when he is my only contact with sanity.  I am so excited to see the man he is growing into, but I still want him to be 11 forever.  Can I have it both ways?

 

For his birthday he just wanted a family cookout in the back yard and a homemade birthday cake.  I love that he likes things simple.

 

Since Will and Jack have birthdays only 6 days apart, the younger boys agreed to only have one party for both of them again.  We had it at my uncle's house again so that the kids could swim.  Thanks, Uncle Ricky!

Will is 9 now.  He is the one that seems to change the most over the years.  His baby face is gone, but he is still my baby boy (just don't tell him that I call him Baby - he wouldn't like it).  He is crazy smart and creative.  He can draw beautiful pictures, read Harry Potter, and do his math homework, all without trying.  I love him more every day, and I hope he will continue to let me love on him as he gets bigger. I'm not sure if he will be a teacher, and author, or a lawyer (based on his ability to argue over the color of the sky) when he grows up, but whatever it is, he will be amazing.

Jack turned 3 this year, but let's face it, he is using this opportunity to have his terrible 2s.  Don't get me wrong, he is one of my favorite people on the planet, but his ability to wake me up by yelling the word "yogurt" in my ear is unsurpassed in its volume.  He also likes to use the phrases, "I DO IT!" and, "MINE!" a lot.  Classic 2.

However, he also loves to use phrases like, "Love you!" and "Where Daddy?" a lot which are every bit endearing enough to help me forgive him for the other two.  His greatest loves in life are riding in Daddy's car and food (rice and pizza are the current faves). He loves to play games and read with his siblings, and he loves anything on PBS Kids.  (And it turns out that it's true - once you hit four kids, the rules about how much TV the youngest gets to watch go out the window.  I can stand a lot of Dinosaur Train for the sake of clean laundry.)

Last, but not least, is Kate.  Kate turns 7 in a couple weeks, but because we knew she was having surgery the first week of October and would be on a restricted diet, we decided that she and I would "trade" birthdays.  So, she turned 38 at the end of September, and I turn 7 in a couple weeks.  We both think we got the better end of that deal.

Kate is growing up so fast - into this beautiful, strong, young lady.  She is one of the bravest people I know.  She is also one of the smartest, most athletic, and silliest girls I know.  She is reading really well, can do anything she puts her mind to, and still loves to snuggle with her mama.  As she gets older, she is getting better at putting her feelings into words, which means our relationship continues to grow too.  I just simply love her and who she is. 

She wanted dumplings, egg rolls, and chocolate cake for her birthday, so that's what she got. :)

Do I have the greatest kids on the planet, or what?

Happy Kate NaNa Day!

Wow. Have I really not blogged in 4 months?  I told a friend yesterday that I can't figure out how to parent four children and write at the same time.  I know people who do it, but I can't seem to get it done.  I could blame it on a lot of factors, but for the next hour I am completely alone, so I thought I would dip my toe back in here and see what happens.  I seriously doubt anyone is still checking in here, which means that if I disappear again for four more months, no one will judge me, right?

Sunday was Kate NaNa Day!  We celebrated that she had been a part of our family for five years.  We went to the local hibachi restaurant and she (and the two big boys) received a fob containing a single piece of rice with her names written in English and Chinese.  (By the way, I could read them when I bought them five years ago in Tongli, and now I can't.  What's up with that? Middle age...)
 

Parenting her is still one of those things where I feel like it was only yesterday we were in China meeting her for the first time, and yet it is as if she has always been with us.  She is ours.  She is still that brave little thing holding back tears when she is frightened.  She still laughs hysterically at her brothers.  She still processes everything very deeply.  She still misses China and grieves the loss her first family, but she refers to us as her "real" family. 

I give thanks everyday for the blessing of knowing her. She is spunky and sassy, smart and compassionate.  She reads chapter books and writes her own stories.  She is crazy good at bike riding and anything involving a ball.  She has recently decided she wants to take up golf, but is looking forward to basketball this winter and soccer in the spring.  She is growing in her faith and often asks questions about God and heaven.  She loves to draw and paint and play with play-doh.  There is nothing in the world this child won't accomplish if she puts her mind to it.

So Happy Kate NaNa Day, baby girl.  You are the best girl ever!

Swim Lessons, Part 2

As I am sure you have already figured out, summer is our busiest time of the year. There isn't a lot of kicking back and relaxing, what with four kids at home All The Time and a husband whose job kicks it up a couple notches when teenagers are out of school. Add to that doctor/therapy appointments, a visiting niece and nephew, and regular summer excitement, and things can get a little crazy at our house (or wherever we happen to be). 

My plan is write about all of these things, but you all already know how that will probably go down.  It may be next May before that happens.  So let's start slow.  Swim lessons.

The three big kids had swim lessons the first two weeks of June. Once again, Kate has been bumped up to the big kids' class because Mama is lazy (ie., the boys' class was at 9, and the class she was supposed to be in was at 11). I don't want to spend 3 hours at the pool chasing Jack, so they all have to do it together. I was worried at first, but she totally held her own, as usual.

The funny one, also as usual, has been Will. You may remember that he and Ben had swim lessons five years ago? Ben loved it, but Will complained pretty much the whole time.  They were 5 and 3 at the time. 

I called to schedule the lessons last month, and Will overheard the conversation and freaked out. I eventually calmed him down enough for him to tell me why he didn't want to take swim lessons:

Will: Swim lessons are scary!
Me: What is scary about them?
Will: I don't know, but last time I remember I was scared. They asked me to do things I couldn't do.
Me: Will, you were 3 at the time. Do you remember what they asked you to do?
Will: No.
Me: Well, they wanted to you put your face in the water, and that scared you. Are you still afraid of putting your face in the water?
Will: No, but...
Me: And they wanted you to swim in areas where you couldn't touch. Are you still afraid of being in the deep end of the pool?
Will: No...
Me: They also wanted you to jump off the side of the pool, and you were scared of that. Aren't you diving now?
Will: Yes (smiling)
Me: So do you think you can handle swim lessons?
Will: I guess so.

He now informs me that swim lesson are soooo booooring, because he knows it all. He doesn't actually know it all. For example, he has now learned to tread water, do the elementary backstroke, and bob to safety in an emergency. But he knows everything.

(And sorry I don't have a picture to share.  My camera spent the first half of the summer broken, until the good people at Canon sent me another one.  Thank goodness for warranties.)

This Moment

Life as a mother of four has not slowed down in the past year. I don't know why I thought it eventually would, but I did.  And maybe next year when Jack is in preschool, I might possibly have a child-free moment in my day, but for the moment my free time is often measured in seconds instead of minutes or hours.  Which means you are much more likely to find me on facebook than Blogger.  But that is ok for now.  I will take my adult connections where I can get them.

I honestly do miss blogging, and I frequently have moments that I want to capture, but the space in my brain that holds such things is currently occupied with swing set sale ads, online courses I need to take to keep my teaching certificate current, and vacation ideas.  Not to mention school projects, IEPs, and speech therapy appointments.

But right now, in this moment, I am having a moment I want to remember.  A moment when the children are not fighting over video games or whining about their supposed boredom.  And I want to write it down instead of making dinner or folding socks.  Because I make dinner and fold socks all the time, but how often do I get a moment like this?

For the past two hours, my house has been wonderfully argument free.  Will has decided to organize his younger siblings into an afternoon of playing school.  I can hear Will announcing that it is math time, leading them in singing their ABCs, and telling them to line up for recess outside.  (He even sang praise songs while he was "lesson planning". And right now he is reading them a story.  He has taken them on learning adventures all over the house, and they are having so much fun.  The only angry sound I have heard was when it was "lunchtime" and Will made them milkshakes, and Jack loudly insisted that his should be 'NANA!  (He really likes bananas.)  Jack and Kate adore their big brothers, and so they are just soaking up all of this attention. 

Meanwhile, Ben has a massive science project due on Wednesday. I am a terrible mother who used to try to help with such things, but found that this quickly devolved into frustration and yelling.  And so now I just watch.  His dad graciously takes him to the hardware store to pick out wires and switches for his circuitry project, and then helps him to test it all and make sure it works before Ben finishes it off.  The project is almost complete.  Ben just explained to me the difference between parallel and simple circuits, which I also learned in the 4th grade but have long since forgotten. I just go out to the garage every so often to "ooh" and "ahh" and pat them on the back, literally and figuratively. 

And so I want to remember this moment.  When all is peaceful.  I know that soon there will be hungry children to feed, tired children to put to bed, and more socks to fold.  But for right now, in this moment, all is right with the world. 

Happy Jack Yintao Day!

One year ago today I met my son, Jack Yintao. We celebrated tonight with Chinese food and home movies from Nanjing. (He was so tiny when we met him!)  His gift this year was a set of beginner chopsticks, which his siblings quickly claimed as their own.  Which was only fair since when I showed them to him he screamed, "NO!", which is is favorite word.  (He is two, after all.)

 

He is still as funny, cuddly, and sweet as he was then.

He is a charmer - even though he greets everyone he sees with a hearty, "NO!" people still seem to think he is adorable.

Even though he is a total mama's boy and every time his brothers or sister (or anyone else) tries to talk to me he screams, "NO! My Mama!", his siblings still love him and attempt to hug and kiss all over him.

And apparently he still makes ridiculous faces when the camera is on him.  It is his, "What do you think you are doing with that camera?" face.  (Five shots, no smile? I promise he does generally like to be with us!)

 

And if you want to revisit that wonderful day, feel free to go back and read about the day Jack joined our family.

Smarty Pants

Jack continues to blow us away with that sharp-as-a-tack brain of his. He doesn't miss much.

He has this Leap Frog toy called a Text and Learn that Aunt Sally gave to Kate years ago.  When we brought Jack home we pulled it out for him.  He loves to play with phones, ipads, and anything electronic, so we needed a toy to occupy him in the car and at times when his brothers and sisters want him to stay away from their stuff.  It is a simple little thing with a small screen.  Nothing fancy.  The best game on it has bubbles that rise up with letters on the inside.  The game says the letter, and when you type it in, the bubble pops. 

So we were at the Olive Garden the other night, and they always give kids those menus with pictures and games on them.  One of the games had a series of random letters.  Jack points to the A and says, "A". 

Whoa.  Yes.  That is an A.  And then he does it with the L, M, and O.  That was as far as he could go, so I asked him where the T was, and he pointed to it.  And then the same thing again with the N, I, and a couple more.  He knew every letter on that thing.  Pretty good for a kid who has only heard the English language for eleven months.  And is only 2 1/2.

And have I been working with him on letters?  Nope.  Well, maybe the M because he has a race care with M&Ms on it, and I often point that out, but other than that, nope.  I didn't even know he knew how to play the Text and Learn game. I thought he was just pushing buttons for fun. 

Further, Jack said his first complete sentence today.  I asked him who poured him his milk.  He said, "Dat Nang oo it."  Translation: "That Dad do it."  Yes, I am aware that it isn't the most grammatically correct sentence ever, but I give him big time points for putting four whole words together.  This boy will do anything he puts his mind to.  Just watch him. 

Christmas in February?

Yes, I know that it is closer to Easter than it is to Christmas.  And yes, we celebrated in December, not in February.  And yes, Bri and Danielle, I know I haven't posted in a month.  (But I love you for caring.)

So, here is our Christmas 2012.  Unfortunately, when we went to my mom and dad's houses for Christmas, I forgot the brand new camera that my mom gave me at home.  Yes, the one that she gave me early so that I would have it to take lots of pictures at Christmas. I am awesome like that.

The kids got a Wii and three DSs for Christmas this year from the grandparents, so this was all we saw all through Christmas break:

 Then we headed to Tim's parents to see them and all of the aunts, uncles, and cousins. 

 

And Will's favorite gift turned out to be a fedora.  Go figure.

Did I mention Tim is learning to play the banjo? 

And there you have it. Your 30 second Christmas summary.  And now I finally feel like I can move on with the rest of the year. I will let you know when anything exciting happens (other than the 13 illnesses that have migrated through our house in the last 4 weeks) (Which is, of course, why Christmas was 6 weeks late being posted here.  Yeah, that's it.).

Jack and the Hearing Saga

When we first saw Jack's file over a year ago, it was noted that he had severe/moderate hearing loss.  At the time we had two thoughts concerning this.  First, it was probably conductive loss related to his cleft palate.  If so, a good set of tubes might go a long way in helping him hear. (As one of Kate's doctors told me once, it is hard to hear with tapioca pudding in your ears.)  Second, even if the loss is permanent we have lots of resources to help a child with partial hearing loss.

So, we started the process and honestly did not give a lot more thought to his hearing loss. It was one of those We Will Cross That Bridge When We Come To It kinds of things.

Fast forward to last April when we met him. We had some indication that there might be loss.  For example, he is really loud.  No really. He is loud. Also, (unlike Kate, who also had moderate hearing loss) he had no connection with his Chinese name, even when spoken by people at his orphanage.  Was it because he couldn't hear or was it that they just never called him by that name?

Within a few days though, we noticed he was easily turning his head towards all sorts of sounds, and he was responding to the name Jack. This confirmed - for us anyway - that his loss was moderate at worst, not severe.

Once home our regular audiologist (#1) confirmed this for us again through a series of tests.  However, everyone and their mama thought we still needed to get a sedated ABR hearing test to further nail down the type and severity of the loss.

Remember all of the rigamaroll I went through to get the ABR?  Blech.

So in August, after his tubes were placed but before Dr. L repaired his palate, an audiologist (#2) came in and performed an ABR.  I was so confident that his hearing would come back with minor or no loss that I didn't give it a lot of thought.

Except that isn't what the report said.  The audiologist (#2) (who I had never met before) told me that Jack had moderate/severe sensori-neural loss and that he needed hearing aids immediately.  That he wasn't hearing well enough that he would ever learn to speak without aids.  Honestly, it was a punch in the gut.  I cried for quite a while before I felt ready to go back into the waiting room.  In my head I knew that this was a possibility, and I thought I was prepared for it, but the reality was a lot more painful.

Tim and I together decided we weren't ready to share this news.  Keep in mind that we were still dealing with the fact that our 2 year old was in surgery.  And for my part, I knew that I needed to get to a point where I wouldn't cry every time it was mentioned.  The last thing Jack (or I) needed was pity.  We needed resources and strength.  Jack would need the confidence to know that hearing aids would not slow him down or stop him from anything he wanted to accomplish in life.  It had to be no big deal.  And honestly I wasn't there yet.

We went in to see our regular audiologist (#1) a couple of weeks later.  Immediately, she questioned these results.  She questioned the type and severity, maintaining that Jack's loss was conductive and minimal, and she tested him again.  Over the course of the next few months she repeated those tests more times than I could count.  I carried the results to pediatricians and ENTS, looking for answers to these conflicting reports.

In the meantime, Jack was starting to talk.  He said the word ball.  Daddy. Wah (water). And one night I was putting him to bed.  It was pitch black in the room, and we were whispering to each other. He would say, "Mama," and I would say, "Jack."  Back and forth we went. And then I said, "Time to sleep, Jack." And he rolled over and went to sleep.

I know some of you are marveling that he listened to me, but I was marveling that he heard me! I whispered!

I went in to see audiologist #1 and told her, and she cried. I love that woman.

Then last month Dr. T, the international adoption doc, suggested we see her friend who is an audiologist (#3).   I had been considering a third opinion from the place this woman works anyway, so I was game.  They got us right in, and audiologist #3 did a series of tests and then says, "Jack has normal or near-normal hearing.  He does not need aids." And I cried again. I asked, "How could this other, supposedly objective test have been so wrong?"  And she explained to me how the instruments can sometimes get covered in the blood and other fluids present in a surgical situation, thereby making them inaccurate.  It wasn't anyone's fault. It just happened.

And so here I am, considering all of this.  I am extremely grateful that his hearing is fine, not only because I am a normal parent who wants their child to have normal hearing (even though I was perfectly willing and able to parent a child with hearing loss), but also because now we only have to have hearing checks a couple times a year. Which is really great, considering my recent complaints about frequent doctor appointments.

But through this process I have also thought a lot about what it would mean to have a child with something the rest of the world considers a disability.  I have given a lot of thought to parents who want their child to not be seen as a deaf child, but a child who happens to be deaf.  Do you see the distinction?  They don't want the emphasis to be on the deafness, but rather on a child who has infinite possibilities for success in his life.

This is another post without a neat bow.  I am thankful for Jack's hearing. I have twice been given the gift of a child whose hearing loss was restored.  (And twice the gift of children who have no hearing loss but severe selective hearing loss, iykwim.) I guess what I am saying is that maybe when I hear a child has a diagnosis, I will think twice before saying, "I am sorry."  Not that there isn't a time and place for I am sorry.  There is.  I just know that it wasn't something I wanted to hear. I did not want anyone pitying my son, who is one of the smartest kids I have ever met. (He is starting to recognize letters.  He is 2 and has only heard the English language for the past 8 months, 4 of which his ears were full of tapioca pudding.)  He is going to do amazing things, and it has nothing to do with how well he hears.  Next time I will be more likely to look past whatever the child has, and see the child's potential.  That is what is best for the child.  And for his mom.

Confessions of a Bad Blogger

Since I have been overwhelmed with life in the past year lately, I may have passed up a few bloggable moments.  But there are a few things I would never forget to tell you from 2012.

1. I would never forget to mention that Will learned to ride his bike this past spring.

2.  And I am sure that I remembered to post photographical evidence that we actually did spend a week at the beach with Tim's family. No?

 3. Likewise, I would never fail to blog if Kate learned to read.

4. If Ben had continued to write funny comic strips to amuse his teacher and me, I would post every single one.

5.  I am sure that if Will had visited the local newspaper office and become inspired to write his own newspaper, complete with cover story, sports section, interviews, comics, and puzzles, of course I would have told you about it!

6. I got a new camera just before Thanksgiving, but if a tall, skinny stranger tried to eat my youngest while I was messing with the settings, I am sure I would have remembered and posted a photo.

7.  I always remember to post the Annual Cousins-on-the-Stairs pic, especially if it is Jack's first one.

8. And if Kate ever won an award at school for never giving up or quitting, I would have taken the time to blog about it.

9. We didn't do anything fun like decorate gingerbread houses. And Jack-Man did not eat his house before it ever got decorated.  (Thanks again, Lilly!)

10. And of course, Jack did not fall on his face shortly before said gingerbread adventure, getting a large contusion on his forehead which is still visible more than two weeks later. 


I am also sure that the astute readers among you noticed that I still failed to mention our Christmas celebrations, but maybe I will get to that before the spring thaw. Or maybe I won't. Who knows what you will get from this bad blogger.