Patty Cake!

Today after I buckled Clark into his car seat, I passed him one of his frog stuffed animals and then climbed into the back of the van to buckle Elise. When I turned around, Clark had the two little froggy "hands" in his hands, and he was clapping them together. As he clapped he sung, "Paaah ma, paaah ma... MAIN! Paaah ma, paaah ma... MAIN!" which sounded suspiciously like "Patty cake, patty cake... MAN!" and was sung to the right beat.

I can't remember exactly when each of my kids started doing specific, cool things or how they played with their toys at certain ages. But Clark is only 13 months old, and aside from starting to learn the song, I was pretty blown away to see him clapping the little froggy's hands. He was doing it all on his own, too. Just entertaining himself. I hadn't been singing the song to him recently or showing him how to clap the frog's hands. It was neat to see him playing that way, similar to how the big kids play with their toys.

Georgia Speaks and Speaks and Speaks

One of Georgia's speech therapists said that she wants to re-test her soon (rather than waiting for her next 6 month evaluation) because she's doing so well with her speech post-tonsillectomy. "She's our super-star!" she said. So exciting! I'm so proud of you, little lady!

Elise's Big Girl Bed

Elise's bed has been upgraded. No more toddler bed. She's in a twin-sized bed now. She asked for it, so Husband and I figured she was ready. She wanted a big bed like the one Henry has.

Henry's bed is on a big frame. A BIG frame. The frame has drawers underneath of the bed and the bed is raised up kind of high, although not as high as a loft bed. We put a step stool by his bed so he can get down easily, although he climbs up and down pretty well. He's a very tall 3 year old. We didn't put Elise's bed on a frame at all. We have one for her, but we just set the box and mattress on the floor in case she fell out the first few nights in her new bed. She hasn't fallen out yet.

Georgia likes her little toddler bed and keeps asking us if she can sleep in her "little bed," so I don't guess she'll be getting a big bed anytime soon. No need to rush it.

Thomas the Train

Clark now recognizes Thomas the Train and shouts, "TOMMY!" whenever he sees him. Mommy, Daddy, and Thomas. The most important people in his life.

Christmas Tree Is Up

We recently bought the fakest, scraggliest, dinkiest, ugliest 6 foot tall plastic Christmas tree ever. And I don't mean that in a charming way. Not like, "Check out my hipster Christmas tree. It's not cool but it is." No. It's pretty awful. But the kids love it. And they got to hang up their own ornaments, so there's even a bit of personal pride in their eyes when they look at the stupid thing.

The most common threat for time outs has now gone from "if you jump on the couch one more time..." to "if you pull on the Christmas lights one more time..." Merry Christmas! Now sit in time out until I say you can get up.

Diabetic Sausage

My old boy cat, Sausage, is diabetic. Has been for years. He's in remission, knock on wood. Cats can do that sometimes, and he's one of the lucky ones that can control his diabetes with the proper diet. There was a point where we had to monitor his glucose level every day and give him insulin shots sometimes more than once a day. But we managed to get it under control.

Now, Sausage is on a steroid medication for his stomach/intestine/liver issue and, unfortunately, it can cause problems with a cat's glucose levels. So I have to prick his ear and feed his blood to the glucose meter every so often in order to make sure that he's still in remission.

There's a trick to getting blood from a diabetic cat. You wet a washcloth, put the washcloth in the microwave for about 20 seconds to get it warm, then hold the warm washcloth on the cat's ear for a few seconds. The warmth brings the blood vessels to the surface and helps the blood flow out of the puncture more easily. Then you poke the cat's little ear with a lancet, near the edge where there are visible blood vessels. A drop of blood forms, you put it on the test strip, and the glucose meter gives you the result.

Sausage is amazingly cool with the whole process. Ear poke and all. He was even good when we had to give him insulin shots. Either it really doesn't hurt him or he somehow knows that it's for his own good... or maybe he likes all of the kisses and cuddles I give him afterward as a reward for his bravery. Anyhow, he doesn't even flinch.

I checked Sausage's glucose level this morning and it was well within normal. Yay, kitty! Keep up the good work. Insulin (without insurance to cover it) is expensive.

You Did It to Yourself

Okay. So when Clark runs at me to hit me (in anger) and I take a step backward and to the side as he swings and then he falls over on his face, do I feel bad that he got hurt, or happy that he learned an important lesson? A little bit of both, friends. A little bit of both.

Killin' the -cillins

For a second time in the history of Clark, he has broken out in a rash two days after starting a round of amoxicillin. The doctor who treated him (during yet another trip to the urgent care clinic) said that he doesn't think that Clark is allergic per se, but he clearly has a reaction to amoxicillin and there's no point in giving it to him again in the future. Agreed.

Sick All Around

Happy Thanksgiving!

Despite being sick as a dog, I have sooooo much to be thankful for this year. Most of all my family. My beautiful, beautiful family.

I'm very sick today. Clark is still super sick. This sucks. It sucks so much that I don't want to write anymore right now. Good night.

Still Sick

Well, after 3 doses of antibiotics and a constant stream of Tylenol and ibuprofen, Clark's fever is now down to 102.8. Poor Babu. It's been a rough day.

Clark's Latest Ear Infection

Tonight Clark was running a temperature of 103.6 degrees AFTER getting dosed up on ibuprofen, so I took him to the urgent care clinic. I walked in about 5 minutes before they closed (just before 10:00), so everyone was being a total dick to me. Sorry to keep you from your crappy tv dinner and your TiVoed reality shows, urgent care staff, but my 13 month old is screaming and sweating and slapping my face in anger because he's in pain and don't give a shit about the fact that you've been working all day, I have been working NON-STOP for the last 2 1/2 YEARS to raise 4 beautiful toddlers who have more manners and more compassion than you do when it comes to addressing strangers. God dammit, people. Like I planned to ruin your stupid night by keeping you an extra 10 minutes. Sheesh.

Clark has an ear infection. Or that's what they told me to shut me up and get me out of there, anyway. Got some antibiotics. Hoping that it helps. It's going to be a long night.

I No Longer Fear Playgrounds

Like pretty much every kid on the planet, our kids love playgrounds. Every weekend: "Can we go to the playground?!?!" And most weekends we take them.

Until recently, going to the playground was torture for me. Having four kids scurrying in four different directions is hard enough, but then add an entire landscape of wobbly shit to fall off of, and I'm ready to lose my mind. Of course, there's zero chance that they all want to play on the same piece of playground equipment, so someone was always just out of sight and almost certainly about to break a limb, eat a bug, or burrow into a pile of mulch.

The big kids are finally finally finally old enough to sure-footedly climb up slides, realize when their balance is faltering on ladders, and understand that they can't traverse monkey bars alone. I no longer double-check that I have my medical insurance cards in my wallet before we head out for the park. I even manage to have a little bit of fun taking Clark down the big slides.

One day I'll be able to bring a book and wave at the kids from a bench while they run and climb and play. That day is soooo far in the future that I don't think about it to too often. But one day it will happen. One day...

Stuffins

If my house were to catch fire and I was able to get all of the people out, then all of the animals out, and STILL have time to safely run inside and retrieve some personal possessions, I would first save the teddy bear that I've had since I was a teeny baby. A brown teddy with arms and legs that move. His name is Radar, which is the name of Big Bird's teddy bear, in case you didn't know.

When I die, no one will care about that stupid bear. I know this. It isn't a potential heirloom. It's not some lovely piece of jewelry or a handmade quilt. It's a dirty old teddy bear. But it's mine and I love it and it's the 10th thing I would pull out of a burning house, if it ever came to that.

So today Husband and I got the kids some "now we're a family" stuffed animals. Toys to commemorate the occasion of Henry and Georgia's adoption. As someone who still has a stinky old teddy bear from her babyhood, you can see why this was significant to me.

Henry picked out a monkey. He really likes monkeys lately. He already has two sock monkeys and another monkey stuffed animal, and he chose to add to his monkey troop. Elise got a blue teddy bear with white stars. Blue is Elise's favorite color. Georgia picked out a toy that I mistook for a cat but is apparently a dog... however, she thinks it's a cat, too, and that's why she liked it, so a cat it is. It has a pink collar and long eyelashes-- very girly. Clark picked out a polar bear. AKA, a rawr.

I don't know if these toys will survive the kids' childhoods, much less make it to the homes they live in as adults... but just in case they grow up to be stuffed animal loving dorks like their momma, they will have special "we're a family" toys to treasure.

Cute Clark Words

Clark has started calling anything with sharp teeth a "rawr." Bear? A rawr. Crocodile? A rawr. Lion? A rawr. Dinosaur? A rawr. Guess what a rawr says. Rawr.

He also knows the word "bubble" now. He likes blowing bubbles, so that one comes up a lot. And when he eats something he likes, now he says, "Mmmm. Good!"

My 5 Seconds of Fame

Yesterday was National Adoption Day and because our adoption was finalized during our county's ceremony, we were briefly on the local news during its segment about the event. Everyone I saw today said, "I saw your family on the news last night!"

I had no idea so many people watch the local news every night. Is that still a thing? People still do that? Watch the evening news? I get all of my news from the internet after the kids go to sleep. Wow. News from the TV. Weird.

Finalization! Forever!

We're a forever family!

I'll tell you more about the adoption event later (it's been a long day and I am super tired), but I will share with you my testimony in court today, when I was asked the circumstances of our family coming together and why we want to adopt the kids:

(Henry) and (Georgia) were placed in foster care almost two years ago. They've lived with us that entire time. They instantly became a part of our family. We love them and we want our bond to them as their parents to be a permanent one.

I know that's exactly what I said because I practiced it over and over before court today.

Also, I made sure that the first thing I said to Henry and Georgia after the judge signed the court order approving the adoption was "I love you." It's the first thing I said to Elise and Clark when they were born, too. My first words to each of my children when I became their mother.

Tomorrow's the Day!

Elise has been telling everyone all day long, "Tomorrow is Adoption Day. Gigi gonna be my sister!" Seriously. Total strangers. Anyone who will listen. It's very cute.

I had a dream on Sunday when I took a nap. It was about our adoption day. I couldn't get everything ready in time and we were super late. Before I knew it we were an hour late to the adoption ceremony. And still I couldn't manage to get there. I misplaced Georgia's shoes. Then I parked my car somewhere and either it got stolen or I couldn't remember where it was, but it wasn't where I thought I'd left it. Everything was confusing and stressful. Then I saw the kids' guardian ad litem and she told me how disappointed everyone was in our behavior and how she wasn't sure if the judge would still let us adopt the kids. It was the adoption equivalent of a stressful pregnancy dream. Isn't that silly?

Our last night as a foster family! YAY!!!

Clark's Vocabulary

Clark is developing quite a vocabulary. He can still imitate like crazy. For instance, if the big kids are all screaming, "I want milk!" at the dining room table, Clark will inevitably start yelling something that sounds nearly identical.

He says hi and bye bye and no and yeah and all of those kinds of things. Up and down. Mine. He's made up his own sign for brushing teeth (which he LOVES to do, by the way). He says car. Hat. Milk. More. Mommy, daddy, baby. He's always pointing out babies. He kind of says babby-- it's cute. Cat. Cracker. Night night. Poo poo. Eye. Nose. Hair. Book. Star. Ashes ashes from the nursery rhyme. He's started calling bottles of water or juice "bobby." He's never had a regular baby bottle in his life, but for some reason he calls adult bottles bobbies. Don't know where he came up with that, but I think it's kind of cool. He'll say "bobby" and sign for more when he wants a sip of your water. He rubs his hands together when he sees a sink because he likes washing his hands. He still says, "Dat?" for "What's that?" Mmmmm when he likes the taste of something. Apple. Banana. Cheese. He pumps his fist up and down by his head for "train."

I'm sure that there's more but I can't remember them right now. He's cool. I feel like I can almost have a conversation with him.

Potty Party!

Not to be outdone by Elise's new Poo Poo Princess status, Georgia peed on the potty TWICE today. This is amazing. Miraculous? Maybe. It certainly feels like a small miracle has happened.

The big kids all got new undies this weekend. How's that for a little motivation? Nice new undies to show off every time they use the potty. And, of course, using the potty is a family activity, so everyone will notice that they are wearing new undies. If you saw the size of our main bathroom, you'd be shocked that six people can fit inside of it, but we can. And we do, often. Not intentionally. It just happens.

The sound of our toilet flushing is now music to my ears. Diapers, I will not miss you. Not one little bit.

Poo Poo Princess

Now that Elise has overcome her unexplained fear of pooping on the potty, she not only willingly tells us that she has to poop, but she actually likes it. She said to me, "Mommy! Pooping feels good!"

Clark Update; Poop Victory

Clark now has 8 teeth. Bam. Just like that. 7 and 8, back to back.

He also has a terrible case of diarrhea. The kind that is basically just brown water. Poor kiddo. He's just as happy as can be, though. Not particularly hungry, although he's drinking a lot of water and nursing like mad. Peeing plenty, so he's not dehydrated. But leaking out the hiney-end like you wouldn't believe.

And speaking of poop...

drum roll, please...

ELISE POOPED ON THE POTTY!!!

Five times. She has diarrhea, too.

She was resistant for the first poop. As usual. Super stressed out when I made her sit on the potty without a diaper on. Like, I literally thought her head would explode. She was shaking and whining but her tummy was so upset that she couldn't hold it in. She finally pooped and I clapped and told her how proud I was, and she was proud of herself, too.

Husband took her to the potty the second time, and he said she just sat down and pooped. No big deal. As if it was part of her every day routine to take an evening poop on the potty. By the fourth poop, she was kicking me out of the bathroom by saying, "Mommy. I need my privacy. Go in the other room."

I'm so happy about this. She's nearly potty trained. Oh! And she doesn't need a diaper for daytime naps anymore, either. Yay!

I just remembered something Elise said to me earlier today. She asked, "Mommy? Clark was in your tummy?" I said yes and she said, "Why?" I wasn't sure what she was asking so I said, "I was growing him in my tummy." Then she laughed and said, "I grow poop in my tummy." Ha!

Today Stinks

I had a crappy day. Instead of boring you with a recount of every little thing that went wrong, I will just share the day's highlight.

Clark threw up this morning. Twice. Little baby throw ups of curdled breast milk. He hasn't done that in forever. It was such a tiny little amount each time, both before breakfast, and I thought that it must be something funny in my milk. I literally apologized to him, thinking I must have eaten something last night that didn't agree with his tummy.

He wasn't very hungry today, but he did eat. Ate breakfast. Ate lunch. Ate a snack. I even forgot about the morning pukes, as nothing else out of the ordinary happened.

Then, on my way home this evening with all four kids in the car, Elise looks over to Clark and says, "Mommy? Clarky throwed up."

"Is he okay?"

Elise stares at him for a tad too long, then finally says, "No." I was at a red light by that point, so I throw the van in park and put on my hazard lights and climb in the back to look at him (he's still rear-facing so I couldn't just turn around and see him). He's COVERED in vomit, still silently puking his guts out, and clearly not getting any air. By the time I jam my hand into the pile of puke on his chest and loosen his car seat harness, he manages to take a big gulp of air and then proceeds to splatter vomit all around himself with a gigantic cough.

Anyway, despite being in crazy rush hour traffic, I eventually manage to get the car pulled over so that I could clean Clark up as best as possible and wrap his vomit-soaked clothes in a plastic bag. The smell was SO bad. So bad. Even the other kids commented on it. "Stinky, Mommy!" This from children who think that poop jokes are the height of comedic genius. I didn't even know that toddlers could find something disgusting. I didn't know that I could find something disgusting anymore. I thought I was all disgusting-ed out, what with the amazing level of grossness that the other three have already achieved.

Anyhow, Clark seems fine now. Guess that big puke got rid of whatever was bothering him. But now I can't un-smell that smell and I've felt a little queezy ever since. Please, please, whatever it was that made him throw up, please let it not be contagious. Or if it is, please let the other 3 kids not catch it. My nose can't take it.

Tooth #7, Etc.

* Clark's 7th tooth has arrived! He has four up top and three on the bottom now. Clark the shark.

* Clark's favorite song is Ring Around the Rosie. He even chimes in for "ashes, ashes" and "DOWN!" If he ever sings it on his own (which he does sometimes) you'll hear him saying, "Ay-sha, ay-sha... DOWN!"

* One of the side effects of having a 13 month old while you're also raising three toddlers is that one of the baby's first words will be "Mine!" Clark not only says it, but he uses it in the proper context. If he wants something that someone else has, Clark will snatch the item away, clutch it to his chest and yell, "Mine!" Also, if someone tries to take something from him, he does the same thing. Rude, but so so cute.

* Today I got some of the paperwork that we need to sign for the adoption to take place. Only one week away! I started crying while I was driving yesterday... it just hit me all of a sudden and next thing I knew my throat was all tight and I was weeping. We're almost there. Forever. Mine forever.

* Yay, Obama!

On The Edge of My Chair

Watching the election returns. Don't let me down, America!

Ain't That Some Shit

Georgia pooped on the toilet last night. The girl who will sit on the toilet for 15 minutes straight and not pee, who seems completely unready to potty train, pooped on the toilet last night.

So between Elise and Georgia, we have one nearly potty trained girl.

Yay, yay, yay for Georgia! Keep up the good poops!

We Forgot to Mention...

As our adoption day approaches and various different people in the state department are working to process all of the necessary paperwork, I keep getting phone calls about things that I need to hurry up and do RIGHT AWAY because oops-we-forgot-to-mention-that-you-absolutely-must-have-this-done-or-the-adoption-won't-happen-on-time. Don't you people have checklists? Or some sort of standard protocol? Why does everyone keep forgetting things until the last minute? It's really strange. And super annoying.

The latest disaster phone call was on Friday, when I found out that the kids must have a new physical exam done by their doctor-- ASAP. Without the physical exam paperwork, some other paperwork won't get processed and then the adoption will have to be put on hold until next month. Their most recent physicals are less than 8 months old, but that isn't recent enough for some reason. I don't know if all pediatrician's offices are the same, but the ones I've used all schedule children's well visits months in advance. I had to call and BEG for the doctor's office to fit me in. I talked to a nurse and two office administrators before I could get squeezed in for tomorrow.

Bonkers.

I just keep telling myself that after the adoption is done, I won't have to deal with this craziness anymore. It'll all be over soon.

A Letter of Love

Georgia's birth father wrote her a letter, to be given to her when she's older. It wasn't in an envelope. Of course, I read it. As her mother, of course I read it.

I was nice. I thought I might cry, but I didn't. It was simple and to the point. Georgia's birth father surrendered his parental rights, rather than participate in the TPR hearing. I think that mostly her birth father wanted her to know that he loves her and that the decision he made had nothing to do with not wanting to parent her. He also wanted her to know that she could find him in the future and he'd be happy to hear from her.  I'm really glad that she has that letter. I know it will mean a lot to her.

We Voted!

Husband and I voted today!

We took Henry, Elise, and Clark with us. We tried to explain what we were doing, as best we could. I told the kids to think about how Mommy and Daddy try to take care of them and protect them and make good decisions for them. Then I told them that there is a person who tries to make good decisions and protect everyone in the whole United States, called the president. I told them that we were going to help pick who we think that person should be. Also, I asked them to think about when we all sat down and made the "time out list" that had all of our house rules on it. Things like no jumping on the bed, because we might fall off and bump our heads. I explained that there are lots of other rules that adults have to follow, too, and we were going to help pick which rules we think are good rules.

We showed the kids the ballots and let them watch us bubble in our choices.

Mostly I think they were just happy to get an "I voted" sticker at the end.

Clark's Favorite Story

Clark has a favorite book now. Every morning and many afternoons, he goes looking for the book. When he finds it, he brings it to me, throws it in my lap, then says "more." After I read it, I must read it again or risk a temper tantrum. If I don't read it a third time, he will take the book from my hands and throw it at my face. If I don't read it a fourth time, he will cry inconsolably for a very, very long time.

The book is called Rain Feet.

It's a simple book with only a few pages. Clark likes pointing to his own feet when I show him the boy's feet. He likes pointing out the car on the second page. "Cawr!" He likes showing me the hat that the boy wears in the rain. Clark says "Haaah!" and pats his own head. Then on the last page, Clark always looks at the picture of the boy, asks "Dat?" and waits for me to tell him "That's a boy."

This series of events goes on and on and on until Clark gets bored. I know the words to Rain Feet by heart. I feel certain that I will never forget them. Like the pledge to the flag or the lyrics to my favorite song, I have simply said the words too many times for them to ever escape my memory.