Kids these days.
Have they no respect?
I mean...she knew we were on the longest healthy streak. Quite possibly ever. Or at least since our family went from one to two kiddos.
But did that stop her?
Oooooooh no. She had to go and get the croup!
::sigh::
Thank goodness Dr. Pedi was running on time today. So it was a relatively quick in and out.
Because to put it bluntly...Trevy and waiting rooms don't mix. Or rather...mommy and Trevy and waiting rooms don't mix. Especially with a hacky clingy binti hanging on my leg.
Trevy would be in his glory if he could just be unleashed in a doctors office. Any office. He's not a picky guy.
I was literally dripping with sweat by time Dr. Pedi made an appearance. I hope she appreciated the fact that I'd successfully prevented Trevy from slamming the door more than 3 times. From tearing every last shred of that stupid paper roll off the bed. Cause his little fingers were positively itching to rip it up into a million little pieces to be littered around the room. Yes...thank you very much for that Ms. OT! I wasn't able to stop him from climbing up the chair and pretending it was a trampoline. But I did successfully pull the scope out of his mouth and wipe the drool off before she noticed. He opened every drawer. Switched every switch. Ate two stickers. Spilled all the cheerios. Oh alright...so he almost spilled all the cheerios. There were a couple left in the bowl. Which upon discovering he promptly threw at his sister. And all that occurred in 10 minutes or less! Cause you see...Trevor doesn't know the meaning of attention span!
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Somewhere during the three nights of steroid treatments and steamy showers lecture Trevy decided smacking my head and pulling my hair was no longer fun. And moved on to his new pastime. Sticking his fingers down his throat until he gags.
Yes. Gags. On purpose. He either thinks my reaction is hysterical or enjoys the gagging sensation?
Either way...
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
I happen to have a very sensitive gag reflex myself. Just typing about it makes my tonsils tickle.
Dr. Pedi watched with a slightly horrified expression. I tried to laugh it off with at least he's not picking his nose to watch it bleed! There was that awkward moment while I was busy trying to shift him to the mommy straight jacket position and she was trying to find the appropriate doctoral response.
Well...you know...he's just doing all those one year old things...
Her voice trailed away at the end leaving the rest of her thought lingering in the air unspoken. But still understood. And suddenly I saw an image reflecting in her compassion (or pity?) filled eyes. Me...more haggard than ever. Sweating and wrestling a now 60 lb elementary aged Trevy. So he couldn't dervish whirl the place like he was now.
All those one year old things.
Things that he should have already transitioned through. But is just now discovering.
Parents make it through the baby years because they end, you know.
Don't get me wrong...
I am thrilled that his body is free from all day seizure saturation and now capable of exploring. All day. Even when his seizures were at their worst Trevy was curious and active. But he napped for two hours twice a day! Because constant seizure fighting is hard on little bodies. Now it's easy to see just how much energy...
life...
childhood...
was being stolen from him by the Monster.
And now that the Monster is tamed. Mostly. We're enjoying Trevy unplugged. 31 pounds of unplugged 3 year old boy. With the cognitive impairment left by the Seizure Monster's reign. And his little seizure free half brain is trying like crazy to make up for all that lost time. And then some.
Which can only mean...
Yow-zahs!
I wrote in my journal recently that...
If seizure saturated Trevy was hard on the heart...
Seizure free Trevy is most definately hard on the bod!
Listen...he may be cute but his exuberance is exhausting!
And exciting. We have certainly seen some developmental gains post surgery. In fact...
Some days I let myself strip away the what if worry and swim in the Hope that Trevy'll be the one. The miracle kid that over comes all the odds. And I'll write a Hallmark Hall of Fame script. And lose 50 so that I can star as the me I see in my head. And he as him!
Trevy's little mug is so delicious that it's easy to miss his struggles on a surface deep once over. His biggest asset has always been his biggest weakness. But those that spend any length of time with him. Trying to teach him. Care for him. Therapy him. Those people will totally understand what I mean when I say...
But then there are waiting room days. Days when his 31 pound unplugged energy wipes me clean. But not him. And he's grinning at me right before he runs the opposite direction. Towards a no-touch! Days when his baby-ishness is not easy to manage. In any way. Waiting room days find me hoping like crazy that his little cortically malformed (remaining) brain lets him just reach the next milestone. Just one more... Waiting rooms days have a way of inducing discontentment. And why me thoughts. As I chase Trevy back and forth trying to prevent him from opening the bathroom door on little Johnny's mommy and/or whacking the fish tank to watch the water shake shake shake. While his peers (including my two older children) all play peacefully or flip through picture books with their moms. Like typical kiddos do.
::sigh::
But the reality is...
it's always easier to live someone else's life.
But this craziness is mine. Not by choice. Rather Given to me for a reason I am not capable of understanding. We each of us have our raziki (rah-zee-key). Swahili for our lot in life. The hand we've been Dealt. The Gift we've been Given. I always liked that word. And I cherish my Gift. My family. Trevy. And I Trust that all things are working together for my good. I just hope all this toddler chasing is a passing phase. Or at the very least that it would help me shed a few pounds before swimsuit season!
Have they no respect?
I mean...she knew we were on the longest healthy streak. Quite possibly ever. Or at least since our family went from one to two kiddos.
But did that stop her?
Oooooooh no. She had to go and get the croup!
::sigh::
Thank goodness Dr. Pedi was running on time today. So it was a relatively quick in and out.
Because to put it bluntly...Trevy and waiting rooms don't mix. Or rather...mommy and Trevy and waiting rooms don't mix. Especially with a hacky clingy binti hanging on my leg.
Trevy would be in his glory if he could just be unleashed in a doctors office. Any office. He's not a picky guy.
I was literally dripping with sweat by time Dr. Pedi made an appearance. I hope she appreciated the fact that I'd successfully prevented Trevy from slamming the door more than 3 times. From tearing every last shred of that stupid paper roll off the bed. Cause his little fingers were positively itching to rip it up into a million little pieces to be littered around the room. Yes...thank you very much for that Ms. OT! I wasn't able to stop him from climbing up the chair and pretending it was a trampoline. But I did successfully pull the scope out of his mouth and wipe the drool off before she noticed. He opened every drawer. Switched every switch. Ate two stickers. Spilled all the cheerios. Oh alright...so he almost spilled all the cheerios. There were a couple left in the bowl. Which upon discovering he promptly threw at his sister. And all that occurred in 10 minutes or less! Cause you see...Trevor doesn't know the meaning of attention span!
It's impossible to carry on any level of conversation when Trevy is running free. Which is why I don't hang at the playground chatting up the other mommies. And also why I was bouncing him on my hip. And switching sides often. Because 31 pounds of squirmy wormy toddler gets awfully heavy awfully quick.
Somewhere during the three nights of steroid treatments and steamy showers lecture Trevy decided smacking my head and pulling my hair was no longer fun. And moved on to his new pastime. Sticking his fingers down his throat until he gags.
Yes. Gags. On purpose. He either thinks my reaction is hysterical or enjoys the gagging sensation?
Either way...
Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
I happen to have a very sensitive gag reflex myself. Just typing about it makes my tonsils tickle.
Dr. Pedi watched with a slightly horrified expression. I tried to laugh it off with at least he's not picking his nose to watch it bleed! There was that awkward moment while I was busy trying to shift him to the mommy straight jacket position and she was trying to find the appropriate doctoral response.
Well...you know...he's just doing all those one year old things...
Her voice trailed away at the end leaving the rest of her thought lingering in the air unspoken. But still understood. And suddenly I saw an image reflecting in her compassion (or pity?) filled eyes. Me...more haggard than ever. Sweating and wrestling a now 60 lb elementary aged Trevy. So he couldn't dervish whirl the place like he was now.
All those one year old things.
Things that he should have already transitioned through. But is just now discovering.
Parents make it through the baby years because they end, you know.
Don't get me wrong...
I am thrilled that his body is free from all day seizure saturation and now capable of exploring. All day. Even when his seizures were at their worst Trevy was curious and active. But he napped for two hours twice a day! Because constant seizure fighting is hard on little bodies. Now it's easy to see just how much energy...
life...
childhood...
was being stolen from him by the Monster.
And now that the Monster is tamed. Mostly. We're enjoying Trevy unplugged. 31 pounds of unplugged 3 year old boy. With the cognitive impairment left by the Seizure Monster's reign. And his little seizure free half brain is trying like crazy to make up for all that lost time. And then some.
Which can only mean...
Yow-zahs!
I wrote in my journal recently that...
If seizure saturated Trevy was hard on the heart...
Seizure free Trevy is most definately hard on the bod!
Listen...he may be cute but his exuberance is exhausting!
And exciting. We have certainly seen some developmental gains post surgery. In fact...
Some days I let myself strip away the what if worry and swim in the Hope that Trevy'll be the one. The miracle kid that over comes all the odds. And I'll write a Hallmark Hall of Fame script. And lose 50 so that I can star as the me I see in my head. And he as him!
Trevy's little mug is so delicious that it's easy to miss his struggles on a surface deep once over. His biggest asset has always been his biggest weakness. But those that spend any length of time with him. Trying to teach him. Care for him. Therapy him. Those people will totally understand what I mean when I say...
But then there are waiting room days. Days when his 31 pound unplugged energy wipes me clean. But not him. And he's grinning at me right before he runs the opposite direction. Towards a no-touch! Days when his baby-ishness is not easy to manage. In any way. Waiting room days find me hoping like crazy that his little cortically malformed (remaining) brain lets him just reach the next milestone. Just one more... Waiting rooms days have a way of inducing discontentment. And why me thoughts. As I chase Trevy back and forth trying to prevent him from opening the bathroom door on little Johnny's mommy and/or whacking the fish tank to watch the water shake shake shake. While his peers (including my two older children) all play peacefully or flip through picture books with their moms. Like typical kiddos do.
::sigh::
But the reality is...
it's always easier to live someone else's life.
But this craziness is mine. Not by choice. Rather Given to me for a reason I am not capable of understanding. We each of us have our raziki (rah-zee-key). Swahili for our lot in life. The hand we've been Dealt. The Gift we've been Given. I always liked that word. And I cherish my Gift. My family. Trevy. And I Trust that all things are working together for my good. I just hope all this toddler chasing is a passing phase. Or at the very least that it would help me shed a few pounds before swimsuit season!
Comments
It was great watching Trevy at Toby's soccer practice just looking around with wonder in his eyes. Just absorbing everything. And while I know it was absolutely exhausting at the Dr office, at least you could hopefully sit and relax with Bristel tonight. Not climbing 4 looong flights of stairs with Trevy in your arms!!
And you'll totally make a cameo appearance in my Hallmark movie...and the taxi mommy! :)
...d
Oh well...guess hitting the gym must be worked into the impossible budging schedule!
Wishing you and your family a blessed Easter my friend...sending hugs your way.....Deb
...danielle
...danielle
Anyway.... I feel your pain. I have been in your shoes with kids going crazy in an 8 foot by 8 foot room and I am sweating by the time the doctor appears.
Hate to break it to you, but Austin STILL shreds the paper on the table.
HAPPY BIRTDHAY TREVOR!!!
and
Happy Easter!