Last night was our ward carnival & trunk-or-treat (pictures in gallery) and between that and daylight savings time, the kids were a mess when we got home. Emy nursed a few times and we put her in bed at 9:30pm. I fell asleep around 9:46pm. Emy woke up again to nurse at 3:45!!!!! She slept SIX HOURS!! Christopher came in around 2pm asking for cuddles and I was in and out wondering if Emy was going to wake up (she was stirring) but I slept 4 1/2 hours. THAT is a new record since I’ve become a mom and let me tell you, 4.5 hours of sleep can make you feel like a new woman.

I’m working on the movie slideshow of Emy’s delivery and there’s a shot where she’s crying and I have this huge smile on my face. Christopher asked why I was happy Emiline was crying and I said because it meant her lungs were healthy. Our insightful boy says, “Oh, and you were sad when Bennett was born because his lungs weren’t healthy.” Yes, little wise man.

Moira loves her therapy and she’s talking up a storm. We’re getting some homework from her therapists to help with enunciation and we’ve bought a book, “The Out of Sync Child has Fun” because Mo has several areas of concern - sensory processing disorder is the name and we’re trying to find ways to more specifically help, now that we have her assessment results back. She has problems with tactile, vestibular, oral, and a bunch others - so touch, hearing, movement… And the best way to help is providing her with as many sensory experiences as possible to help her little brain learn to cope and process with the stimulation that’s overwhelming her. More on that later. It’s a lot for us to process still.

Bennett is 20lbs 7ozs as of last week and he’s looking a lot taller to me. He’s outgrowing pants and looking more like a toddler and less like a baby every day. I spoke with his therapist yesterday and I always ask how he’s doing - if we were going by his due date instead of his birthday, she said he’s fine. Doing great, no real areas of concern. It’s just that they want us to not adjust his age anymore and it’s fine if that helps him qualify for services but I feel like we’re pushing and setting unrealistic expectations for his development. Like we’re those overbearing parents that stick their infant in music appreciation classes and signs their 2 year old up for violin. He’s exploring his world, he’s learning problem solving skills (much to my dismay sometimes) to get into all kinds of dangerous stuff, he adores his siblings, and he’s happy. I think Bennett and I both need a break from this preemie thing, I just want to let him be a normal kid for awhile. We’ve cut speech & OT back to once a month, but vision (which I know he needs and I want to encourage) will be weekly. We cut horseback riding completely until spring. I’ve set up an appointment with his pulmonologist from the PICU to see what they say about his lungs and what long term we should expect, but really I want them to say he’s so great they never want to see us again. And he’s do for another eye exam, he gets those and dental exams every six months.

How lucky are we that pretending to be a “normal” toddler is even an option? That we’re declining services because we really don’t think he needs them? What a miracle.

Emiline is such an easy going kid. Or maybe it’s just in comparison. She fusses if she’s tired, she cries if she’s hungry, and the rest of the time she’s sleeping or checking us out. Okay, I say she’s easy going but she does make her opinion loudly known. I think we’re just better able to read babies now so there’s less screaming while we try to figure things out. You really have to earn her smiles. She’ll do it, but only if you make a fool of yourself working to get that grin. Which reminds me of solemn Mo. And she likes to sleep alone, like Mo did as a baby. I’ll be curious to see if she’s an introvert or extrovert.

Happy Halloween!
(Figure from Kit’s work)

Today was the primary presentation. I found those excruciatingly boring when I was in them and my opinion of them did not change until I had my own child in one, at which point it became utterly adorable and I teared up. Christopher has been practicing his speaking part for weeks and memorized it perfectly, so he was pretty vocal about declining any whispered assistance from the prompter. He said it with an enormous grin on his face, checking out the congregation as if they were his own personal fan club, and as he ended he gave this little giggle and everyone cracked up. It was like a wave of laughter across the room, then another little spurt of chuckles. We had many compliments on it from people afterwards, always with them giggling in remembrance. He’s adorable.

One of his teachers told me she thinks Christopher doesn’t sleep because he’s so scared he’ll miss something. (She’s reading the Ephraim’s Child book about spirited kids now!)

So who knows about the Martin Handcart company? I knew a little bit about them and from what I did know, I could not comprehend why these people were willing to take such a risk, and face such horrible conditions, to travel across the US in rotten circumstances (pushing what few possessions they could take) so they could be with other members of their faith. Didn’t get it at all.

Then I went on bed rest with Bennett and had lots-o-time on my hands and I read a fictional account (but based on journals of members of that company) of the experience. And it completely changed my perspective. I had thought they were some sort of gluttons for punishment (It was fall! It was COLD. I try to not leave my house the one day of the year it snows here in Texas. And they were going to walk hundreds if not thousands of miles?? I have no clue what the distance was, but it was a lot.) But they weren’t by any means, they were amazing and faithful. This quote’s been running through my head this weekend so I wanted to share it. After what we’ve been through with Bennett, I have a better understanding of what this man meant…

The story goes that some members of the church not involved with the company were criticizing church leaders (years after the experience) for letting it happen.

“A man who had crossed the plains in the Martin Handcart Company was present in the class. Face white with emotion, he told the class they should not criticize something they knew nothing about.”

“We suffered beyond anything you can imagine and many died of exposure and starvation,” he admitted, but he reminded them that the survivors of that company had not been critical. “Not one of that company ever apostatized or left the Church,” the old man said, “because everyone of us came through with the absolute knowledge that God lives for we became acquainted with him in our extremities.” He told how he had pulled his handcart “when I was so weak and weary from illness and lack of food that I could hardly put one foot ahead of the other.” Then, he said, “the cart began pushing me. I have looked back many times to see who was pushing my cart, but my eyes saw no one. I knew then that the angels of God were there.” “Was I sorry that I chose to come by handcart?” he continued. “No. . . . The price we paid to become acquainted with God was a privilege to pay, and I am thankful that I was privileged to come in the Martin Handcart Company” (James E. Faust, “The Refiner’s Fire,” Ensign, May 1979, p. 53, quoting David O. McKay, “Pioneer Women,” Relief Society Magazine, January 1948, p. 8).

That’s the part that keeps running through my head - “…everyone of us came through with the absolute knowledge that God lives for we became acquainted with him in our extremities.” And, “The price we paid to become acquainted with God was a privilege to pay…”

When the kids do something especially cute I often think (and we often say to each other) that I need to blog it. So all day long I’m trying to remember what they did (not remembering things well these days) and when I blog half way through the day they inevitably go on to do something even more adorable… I should blog early in the morning. Or wait until they’re making me nutty and blog, hoping it inspires them to be cute again?

Either way, I blogged and then Critter said the family prayer tonight (which is becoming ever more sweet and thoughtful.) This evening it was, “… and please help Emy sleep well, so Mommy gets enough sleep and please help Bennett never get sick again, and please help Mommy never get sick again…” (going on to name every member of our family and a few of us a couple times.)

After prayer he asked me, “Someday can we make a candy scarecrow? With a red button and a green button and a yellow button you press and candy shoots out its mouth?” When he wants to do something we have neither the time, energy, nor resources for we often say, “Maybe someday we can do that.” He’ll tell us there is something he wants to do, “When I’m a grown up.” But I love the candy scarecrow man with candy shooting out if his mouth idea so I told him he can start inventing that right now.

We were getting ready for the Senior Center “Lil Ghosts and Goblins” carnival and I was helping Moira getting dressed. She’s a ballerina this year, though her outfit strangely resembles a princess ball gown. Don’t make the mistake of calling her a princess, she’ll deny it.

But anyway, I’m helping her into this big poofy blue “ballerina” gown and trying to find her head and hands amidst the fabric and I had one of those strange bittersweet moments when you realize your baby is growing up and this moment is going to pass so quickly… It reminded me of doing this exact same thing (wrestlng with twenty yards of fabric and tulle) with my little sister Christine last year, my “little” sister that’s been taller than me for years and is now expecting a baby of her own. But I remember Christine being born and helping her into her wedding gown was very surreal. As was seeing pictures of her with an expanding belly… So helping Moira Christine into her gown, I suddenly realized in another twenty years I’m going to be lifting up a big poofy white gown and helping my little girl get ready for her wedding, telling her she looks like a princess and I’ve never seen anything more beautiful… and it was like I could see it happening, as if I would see a woman’s face emerge from all this fabric instead of the sweet chubby cheeks of my little girl. It just struck me how fast these years are going by…

But hey, at least I’ll have twenty bazillion pictures to capture all these moments, right? Pictures up in gallery from today’s fun.

Christopher was admiring his baby sister and then asks in a concerned tone, “Mom, does Emy have a neck?” He couldn’t see it for all her double chins.

And the day has come, much to my horror and amusement. But background - Christopher’s been asking more baby questions (that whole thing about how does a baby get out of the egg?) So we did some research and showed him some pictures and explained the woman actually contributes an ovum, and he went for that explanation. Gave him a genetics 101 lesson about x and y chromosomes and how the daddy gives a boy sperm or girl sperm, etc. THEN…

A friend told Christopher she’s pregnant and what does he say? First he asks what she’s having and she told him it’s too early to know. I guess he thought we didn’t understand the question because THEN he asks (are you seeing where this is going?) “What kind of sperm did the man have?” He said it quickly so she thought he said spiderman and I’m blushing horribly and hoping she didn’t understand but realizing I should explain so I whisper, “He’s talking about the birds and the bees,” and THEN she realized what he had said and we both burst out laughing.

Yep. That’s my four year old.

Micro-preemies are really never out of the woods for complications. In our case there’s the on-going risks of retinal detachment, learning disorders, behavioral/psychological issues, lung problems, vision issues besides the retinal thing. You just never know what the fallout will be from their brains and bodies having to develop outside the womb. Lots and lots of scary studies to tell you how even as adults, this first generation of micro-preemies have all sorts of big problems. It’s pretty depressing.

So it’s always in the back of our head, I think when we see Bennett doing things we wonder if it’s a normal toddler thing or a sign of preemie issues to come… I think I most wonder about his cognitive development. Well, and social/emotional… Okay, I worry about all of it. He had the grade I brain bleed which is considered not significant (according to our NICU) but still, you wonder. Will it affect his ability to learn to read? his behavior? social interactions? ability to read emotions in others? ability to express emotions himself? spatial reasoning? math skills? analytical abilities? verbal expression? There are just so many questions that we won’t have answers to for years.

However, I take hope after events like today when Bennett is so very clearly forming connections, emotional and cognitive. He was wandering around the house, happily humming and playing with various toys. He comes across a mini-album and finds a picture of Kit in it, then announces he found Dada/Nana (whatever his strange combination word is for Daddy) and grins at me and then races to the door clutching the album. Tries to open the door, realizes it’s locked and Daddy’s not home, turns around and shows me this enormous pout and starts crying and dramatically throws the picture book to the ground and stomps off.

I would have taken that for granted with my older two kids, but Bennett is forming connections and that makes me so happy I could cry. He knows Daddy comes home from work in the door, he’s connecting a name to him, he’s recognizing him in pictures, he’s expressing happiness and sadness. It’s WONDERFUL to see him developing because these were things we didn’t know if he would be able to do.

And on that note, Emiline is cooing. I love to hear it, because Moira never could. The kids’ speech therapist was excited as I was because she knows how significant that is.

First, my two tricky problems… Bennett has renamed almost every folder and file on my desktop. No clue what is what, we’re guessing based on location. Second, have I told you about my problems w/keyboards? Apparently I type pretty fast, so does Emily (Kit said it was hysterical listening to both of us typing on our laptops in the same room - rat, tat, tat, tat, rat, ta-tat!) and the letters on my keyboard don’t appreciate it. Kit says they leave of their own free will in protest but whatever their excuse, I’ve gone through THREE keyboards (then Apple cut me off) and finally gave up and embraced my letter-less keyboard but it’s tricky if I’m holding a baby and typing one-handed. Then I need to see which key I’m hitting. Though Christopher’s getting good at memorizing which key is which, minus the letter. We’ll call it an early lesson in typing skills?

Then, tricky question from Christopher (one has to wonder where he gets these things) - how does the human baby get out of the egg inside its mother’s uterus? Think about that - question took me awhile to figure out (but I’ll fall back on my old excuse of sleep deprivation.) He thought the human egg had a hard shell like a chicken’s egg. The chick has a special tooth to help it chip out, just like lizards (he knows these things) SO how does that little baby break out of the egg, eh? Good question.

Mo giving her halloween costume a dry run. 3.4 MB

We’re starting allowances when the kid turn 5 years old so we’ve been starting to introduce the concept to Christopher. (He thinks all debit cards w/magnetic strips carry some magical balance of money so we’re working on that.) We explained each month he’ll get a set amount of money and some of it will go into savings, some he can spend or save for a big goal, and 10% goes to tithing. Trying to explain the concept of tithing (we’ll have a family home evening on it tomorrow) I said the money is used for special purposes like building temples and chapels. We’re moving into a new chapel next month so I brought that up - he could help build our new chapel. Christopher’s eyes got really wide and he asked, “I could use their dangerous tools?!” He was so excited, but we had to explain that’s not quite what we meant.

It seems fitting, considering the gargantuan purple lump on Bennett’s head, that Kit found this t-shirt for him today. It summarizes him well - the child that managed to bruise his EAR, his EYEBALL, his CHEEK, and then all the normal stuff like his head, back, legs, arms, belly, etc, etc. I really do wonder what this child is made of - he’s pretty tough.

“How do turtles get their shells? Do the find a rock and just bite it and bite it and then crawl inside and connect it back together?”

I’ve had three people share with me a Christopher story - on Sunday the entire Primary was together practicing for their sacrament meeting presentation. At the end they were asked if they had any questions and of course, Christopher raised his hand (when does he NOT have a question, right? This child has enough questions to last through eternity.) And he asked how Laban got the golden plates. (We hadn’t made a clear distinction for him between the golden plates and brass plates, so really he meant the brass plates.) One adult told him she thought Laban had bought them? Another said Laban and Lehi were related so they shared the lineage and somehow Laban got them. Then another adult makes the distinction between golden & brass plates, which launched a discussion between the grown ups. So later we talked with Christopher about how Laban had the plates (and I believe it was a combination of lineage, money & influence, and his position in the city? As an elder or leader or whatever? If you know the real answer, let me know, I haven’t looked it up yet.) We’ve started over in the Book of Mormon and he’s been trying to understand why Nephi had to go back for the plates and he’s really confused by the whole Laban thing. He’s not been satisfied with our explanations and keeps asking why it was okay to kill Laban. Tough one to answer in a way he’ll get.

It makes me smile to hear these stories about Christopher and his thoughtful questions. I know he’s paying attention and remembering while we read the scriptures, though lately we can only get through about 3 verses before we have to stop and answer all of his questions. I love it, but it’s a challenge when we don’t have the answers, or it’s just hard to break down in a way he can understand. In his mind life is still so black or white, right or wrong. As he just told Moira, “Bad guys listen to Satan. We listen to Jesus.” He’s asking again why Jesus died, why people hurt him, why he LET them hurt him. We’re always explaining the concept of repentance and forgiveness and mistakes and the Atonement but his little mind is asking questions that we as adults still can’t comprehend the answers to - he’s hard to keep up with!

Our kids are cuddlers, though they haven’t always been. Mo was the baby that you had to put in bed alone so she could sleep. Critter was the one that needed to be touching another human being at all times. Ben’s a cuddler, too. Emy wants her space. UNLESS they can sleep on Kit’s chest in which case all bets are off because that is everyone’s favorite place to sleep.

Anyway, our bedtime routine has gotten shorten as the years go by. I remember singing and cuddling and reading and rocking for what felt like eternity to get Christopher to sleep. Now we’re down to pjs, teeth, scriptures, prayer, race to bed, story, song, kisses. The whole thing from start to finish is maybe an hour? Of quality family time? And one story, songs and kisses is brief, if you think about it. Even so, there are nights when I’m just twitching to get out of that dark room with children draped across me, breathing down my neck and slowly suffocating me with their adorable PJ clad bodies.

Talking with Kit just now, I brought up that someday these kids may not WANT us to cuddle them to sleep. They may want to go read on their own. Can you imagine? And how sad would we feel? So I decided that we’ve got to keep it up. Our foot is in the door, so to speak, and I want our kids to always feel comfortable talking to us. It will evolve as they get older and room arrangements change - right now Critter & Mo share a room so it’s easy for Kit to cuddle Ben and me to nurse Emy while we do stories and songs. Even if it’s just us checking in on them, giving hugs good night and asking what they are reading, or sitting with them while they tell us about their day or their date or their dreams or fears or whatever is on their mind - I need us to keep this up while they are so eager for our company. I heard kids are more likely to talk and open up when they are tired and though I cannot imagine a day when Christopher isn’t eager to talk, I’m going to plan for success. The bedtime routine must stay - even if they don’t need our help in falling asleep, we need them to know we’re here to help in other ways.