Good Parenting

Some of my fondest childhood memories are running in the road (yep) -- the dirt road, no less -- during spring and summer rain showers with my brother.  I don't remember Constance ever doing that with us.  She wasn't as in to getting dirty as we were!  As long as it wasn't thundering or raining too hard, we could play out in the rain, usually bare-footed.  We grabbed leaves and sticks and made boats in the streams on the road that were, in fact, washing horrible ruts and often making the road impassible.  For us, it was so much fun. 

 Especially in those first two years, I was freakshowmom; nonstop worrying about absolutely everything.  I don't regret any of that at all and wouldn't change a thing.  I still get a little freaked out, but, for the most part, it's just about colds and lung sickness stuff.  But, I know enough to know that we never once got sick from running around in the rain.  Thus, Micah got the benefit of my mom's good parenting. 

 "I has to run in the rain!"

And we got this full rainbow, too.  It was a good, good day.

Yellow Rain

Different from yellow snow, Yellow Rain is the affectionate term I've given the insane amounts of pollen combusting all over my city at the exact same time lately.  I never have issues with pollen, but have found myself popping the Zyrtec (not an endorsement) this year.  Jared has been effected by it surprisingly little.  Micah is fighting a losing battle.

  Poor little guy struggled and struggled with being born too tiny and, by all accounts, has overcome those initial issues.  Praise God! 

  But, this pollen is seriously kicking his tail.  I took him to the pediatrician Tuesday when he looked the best he had of the last 6 days.  Thus, I think they didn't take my concerns seriously enough.  We switched from children's Zyrtec to Claritin, maintained Benadryl (1 teaspoon, twice a day), added Flonase, and a magical $29 tube of ointment for skin irritations (of which there are many... everywhere).  All of that has had little to no effect on Micah and he is currently at his worst with fever and eyes nearly swollen shut (and goopy) and clear drainage with a bonus cough. 

  Jared is calling our ped for some info on allergy shots and a (hopefully) phoned-in magical drug at our Target Pharmacy (endorsement, though they didn't pay me for it; we're relatively well-seasoned with pharmacies and Target beats them all for us!). 

  It's a rough night here.  Jared and I were out with our wonderful friend Roby (who scored us free tickets to the Hawks game!) and I had to come back and get Micah from our also-awesome friends Trey and Jen.  Luckily, Jared got to go back to Roby, who is moving away in about a month and we want to cram in some quality time before that. 

  So, I'm sitting next to Micah, who is actually sleeping pretty well, on our couch, where he has never once slept before, because he was too sleepy to go to his bed.  Bless it.  It's been a very rough three weeks at our house [whatyoudon'tknow: Micah had new ear tubes put in 3.5 weeks ago and didn't wake up happy and then got an infection that lasted and lasted and lasted and now allergies that are truly bad news].

  A phone call to our nurse resulted in this response: "You need to watch him closely.  If he's reacting this severely, you may have to take him to the ER."  For pollen, people!!!    

Jared

I blog almost exclusively about Micah and occassionally mention one of his parents in passing.  I don't think any of you really mind this and since I'm the editor of this little ditty, it wouldn't matter anyway. 

So, I take this moment to sing a simple praise of my husband, Jared.  I met him when a mere babe of 16 years old and he has vexed and thrilled me ever since.  This whole marriage thing really is work, but he makes it all worth it. 

Not every husband out there is reflective, calm, steady, intelligent and compassionate.  Mine is.  And he's also very handy.  This is the trait without which we would have been multiple times bereft. 

Most recently, Jared installed toilets in our home.  Two of the three toilets were running water constantly -- one so badly that we just turned off the water to it.  After replacing the "guts" in one, it ran only a little less than all of the time.  And, after a year of living here, finally, finally we replaced them.  Which is to say, Jared single-handedly maneuvered old toilets out and new toilets in with proper hooking up of the necessary things.  Well, that's not really true.  I helped him lift one of them into the house from the front stoop.  You're welcome, Dear! 

Fast forward to last month's water bill.  It went from $38 (average) to $19!!!  And that was during the holidays with gobs of people here!  Woot!  So, with our monthly savings and the refund our county gives for low water usage toilets, we'll be essentially profitable with these bad boys before the end of the year. 

I love this guy!

This may be my favorite photo of Jared.  And not just because Micah is in it and tenderly reaching for his daddy, but because it reminds me of the first time that Jared held Micah in his arms like a baby, just a week or two before this.  What you also can't tell by looking at this photo is that everyday for about 3 weeks, Jared let me hold Micah the one time each day that he was allowed to be held because I needed it so very badly.  And I did.  God, how I needed to hold him!  And Jared knew that and gave me that.  Every day.  And I'll always be grateful to him for that beautiful gift. 

Numbers

Please note that this sweet child is feeding himself.  He ought not be able to do that, folks.

Last year, for his three-year-old well-check, Micah hit a milestone: THE GROWTH CHART!  I mean, he barely hit it, but we cheered and cheered when our nurse said that Micah hit 2% in height (we won't mention that he's just below the chart in weight)!!!  How exciting!  Micah is bigger than 2% of kids his age!  Woot!  Seriously, the kid is little.  Tiny. 

A couple of weeks ago, we hit another milestone: 36 INCHES!  He's three feet tall!!!  And still tiny.  So, I've had to move him into some 3T pants, but only the ones with adjustable waistlines.  What a magical, genius, mom-created (no doubt) thing those are.  They're all baggy, though, so he pretty much always looks like he is single-handedly trying to bring back the grunge look that his daddy sported so well.  Seriously.  Jared had corduroy pants, flannel shirts, Vanns sneakers and -- this is the best part -- long hair that was shaved all the way around on the bottom half.  Yeah.  He was so cool!  Way out of my league, but I'm kind of a looker, so the rest is history.  I'm pretty sure that if I added a couple of chains and strategically placed grommets to Micah's pants, we could have a truly hip little punk on our hands.  

 That appointment we were at 2 weeks ago was to meet a new endocrinologist.  I won't spend time going into the atrocities of our last endocrinologist and the World's Worst Staff, but suffice it to say that they were seldom polite, efficient, accurate, or trustworthy.  But, New Doctor is all awesomeness, as they should be since they are Children's Healthcare, afterall.  We (yes, I helped) drew blood and ran tests and now Micah is off of Synthroid -- well, Levothyroxine 'cause Mama buys the cheap meds -- for a trial 6 week period when we'll retest his labs.  The general thought is that he won't need any medication to support his thyroid anymore.  Hooray!  We had to crush that sucker, carefully spill it into a syringe, then add the stopper and draw water into it, shaking to never-gonna-dissolve-that-stuff, then plug Micah's mouth with it.  You'd think he could have gotten used to that in 3.5 years.  You'd be wrong.  AND Micah doesn't have celiac disease.  No one thought he did, but his ancestry and general caucasian-ness made them want to rule it out.  

 AND Micah's growth hormone levels are "normal."  That means he's growing at a normal rate.  We could see this in his growth chart over the years.  His slope is right below the line for his peers, but following the same arch.  There's a chance that he'll have growth hormones to catch him up, but we'll cross that bridge later.  Most babies, even micro-preemies, catch up by their 2nd and 3rd birthdays.  Micah is not where one could consider him "caught-up" and we may, therefore, drug him just a bit.  (Feel free to judge our lack of decision at this juncture any way you choose.  If you know us at all, you should know that it won't affect us one bit.)

 So there.  My very own Tiny has some pretty good numbers right now.  And, he can walk -- we assume he can as he does run everywhere that he technically could walk -- talk, sing, argue, play, imagine, and live.  His favorite color is orange.  Recently, I stopped the car on the way to the sitter to watch him peel his own clementine... and have a sweet little cry.  We take none of that for granted and are astounded at the level of honest-to-God "normalcy" this kid has achieved.
 

This is the first time that Micah helped me cook.  He got to stand at the stove and "paint" the bread.  He LOVED it and Daddy was a big fan of fresh bread, too.

Christmas Grands

My side of the family is visiting this weekend for our annual Todd Familly Christmas Weekend.  If I didn't know this because we'd arranged it back in October, then Micah would remind me.  He knows they're coming because we told him.  Yesterday.  You can't give too much lead time with type of event, you know.  Currently, Micah can be found around our house (all around it at once it seems) performing what is best titled "The Yea! Mema and Papa are Coming to My House! Song and Dance Routine."  Fittingly, it is filled with frequent trips to the window. 

I mentioned before that our parents and siblings live hours away.  What must be the greatest benefit of that fact is Micah's response to each visit.  Every visit from any relative is preceded by a similar song and dance performance.  No naps are had during the visits (who could sleep with personal playfellows in the house?!).  And, we get two whole new Micahs out of it.  Pre-family-visit Micah is overly affectionate and constantly says, "Thank You!," for what reason can only be presumed is that his normally oppressive parents are allowing visitors.  I have gotten at least 3, I-want-a-hug's and I have recently lost count of the number of kisses exchanged.  Post-family-visit Micah is like a ball of unexpressed, under-napped energy overcome with hard to relay emotions of anger and sadness and feelings of abandonment.  Apparently, Jared and I can't compete with our siblings and parents for fun factor. 

So, until Sunday at around 3pm, we're living the good life of family holiday fun!

Pin Rolls

As a child, I used to watch my grandma pin roll her mom's hair every Friday or Saturday evening.  Granny's hair, to my knowledge, has always, always been bright white.  Grandma rolled her hair into small, 1-inch diameter swirls and used Goody brand grey bobby pins criss-crossed to hold each little swirl tightly to Granny's head.  Then Granny wore a hairnet, also grey, over it.  It seemed so magical and intimate when I was a little girl.  I looked forward to being old and have tiny curls all around my head just like Granny.  I have scores of these Granny vignettes inside my head, enough to make a very good Southern-setting American novel, I'm sure. 

Now that my hair is quite long and, apparently, I won't have time to get it cut within the forseeable future, I'm getting creative with it.  Enter Granny's pin rolls.   

I made big, 2-3-inch diameter pins and swirled them around the bottom of my head. Then, I went to bed and slept on it.

A little tight and springtastic right after I let it down.

Shake and spray.  It looks a little be... umm... "Southern" but I dig it. 

It's Wednesday which means I'm cooking a giant meal tonight at church, so all of this will be tied tightly back into a ponytail or bun.  Until then, it will be a big, way, length of fun on my head while I shop for vittles.

The GREATEST day EVER

Playing at one of the many train tables while we waited our turn to ride.

"Okay, everyone!  Thomas says he's ready to go!"  This face. 

It EATS!

It's happening.  Outside of the general worries for his immune system and damaged lungs, our great concern for Micah has been growth which he achieves by consumption of calories... like the rest of us.  Flip back through the blog for the past three years and you'll see a theme: tiny, lack-of-food-consuming baby. 

Well, he eats.  He asks to eat.  He asks for specific things to eat.  For example, picture a miniature human clinging, feet aloft, to the freezer door and screaming, "I want brocci, Mommy!"  Yeah. 

It's happening.  It's slow, but it's happening.  Micah is now capable of eating an entire grilled cheese sandwich AND fruit.  It's like watching a magic show every time he sits down to eat.  And, slowly, his appetite is showing up on his frame.  He's finally getting thighs, we've had to adjust the waist looser on his adjustable waist pants, and his shirt sleeves are getting too short. 

This makes Mama happy!

REfashioning Part 3

Remember this?

Well, it got refashioned twice so far.  The second one is this.

A hat!  That I made!  I had about 20 inches left from the bottom of the skirt above.  I measured my noggin around and cut a piece 23 inches long and about 10 inches tall, which is too tall.  I measured 9 inches from crown to the middle of my head, but was afraid that didn't seem like enough.  I have a rather not-small head.  I folded the fabric in fourths and cut halfway down it at the folds, both of them.  Then I cut an arch into the fabric, pinned my four arches together and sewed them then down the one open side.  And I should have taken photos of this process.  It was so very easy.  I have enough left to do it again, so if you insist, I'll take photos along the way next time and post that. 

Refashioning Part 2

How bad is this?  I've owned it since we were married.  That's 10 years, folks.  If I could hold onto it for another 10, then I'm sure this style would be perfectly acceptable and IN.  But, I need clothes now.