The January of Our Discontent

January was not the best month for our family. Now, this is completely subjective since we live in a free country, have loving family, are free to worship as we choose, and thankfully, have health care. So when I say "not the best month" it's purely from our perspective understating that there are many people around the world who would give anything for the month that we had.

First week of January we all got a stomach bug. Oddly, we didn't all get it at the same time, but two to three days a part. First Lily got it. Then two days later, Brian had it. Next, Jamison said his stomach hurt but didn't produce anything (yay for tiny victories). I am a firm believer in mind over matter and I had told myself that I would not get this thing. It did try to get me but I was only down for a day and if I stayed very, very, very still then I would be ok. Patrick didn't exactly seem to get it, only had a few fussy moments. It's hard to tell with a five month old.


Then it was the snow days. Normally snow days don't bother me. Rarely is school cancelled - maybe 2-3 days a year. Except THIS YEAR. The snow has been unbelievable. When the kids are stuck in the house for more than one day it gets scary around here. They have so much pent up energy. I put them on the treadmill, on the trampoline, and try to create more structure in the day. But it's not easy.

I know what you're thinking - just throw them outside. And I do. It takes 10 minutes to get them dressed and then they spend 20 minutes outside; falling down everywhere because the snow is so deep, getting stuck in snow drifts, and if you're Jamison, face planting without the ability to lift his body up. Then it's 10 more minutes to get them undressed without (and this is the key) getting snow everywhere. They come inside all red and snotty and cold. And demanding hot chocolate. We do this twice a day.
Then, on January 21, Brian's Granny Pat lost her battle with cancer. She had beat it 20 years ago, but they found it again in August and it was advanced. Granny Pat was the first of Brian's grandparents to pass away. I was trying to think back and I think the last time I saw her was in 2008, when I took this picture of her on the couch with Lily at Jim and Karan's house.

Granny Pat was a very classy East Texas woman. Always put together, always level-headed. She was a wonderful woman - so wonderful that we named Patrick after her. Brian was already in Lubbock for a church conference when she passed; so Patrick and I flew down to Texas to meet him. We met in Dallas and drove to Troup (just south of Tyler, if that helps anyone with a knowledge of Texas geography) to get together with family and celebrate her life.

Patrick to a liking to Pa as soon as we arrived.

Four generations. We have the same picture with Jamison when he was 6 months old in 2007.

We returned home on a Tuesday. By Thursday Patrick's nagging cough turning into wheezing. So Friday morning we headed to the doctor and he was diagnosed with bronchiolitis. We were sent home with a nebulizer machine and instructions to treat him every 4 hours.

Within 24 hours he went from wheezing and couging to wheezing, coughing, panting, and not eating. It was scary. Our pediatrician is open on Saturdays so we headed back. They took chest xrays and decided it was just a really bad case of bronchiolitis. It's been five days and he's no longer panting, but still wheezing. I feel that it's slowly getting better.

I really hate this, mom.

It works best if I strap him in his high chair and let him mess with it a little. As long as it's near his mouth and nose I think it's being inhaled.

Needless to say, I'm thankful for February. We're still dealing with Patrick's breathing and more snow days then I'd prefer, but we've got God to get us through whatever else may come.

Mysteries

Like many mothers, I frequently ask my children, particularly my three year old: "what were you thinking?!?!" And he normally replies: "I love you, mom." That is never a good response.

Jamison hoards items in his bed. When I go to change the sheets enough toys, stuffed animals, and miscellaneous paraphernalia to fill a dumpster come flying out.

This weekend, his nerf ball came bouncing out when I changed his sheets. It looked like a methodical destruction, not the usual carelessness, so I was concerned.

And then I found the pieces under his bed. At least he attempted to clean up. I focus on the baby steps.

So I had to ask him.

Me: Jamison, why did you bite off half of you ball?

Jamie: I only wanted a blue ball.

Me: So you bit off all the orange?

Jamie: Yes, but it's still not blue. I'll go get a marker.

Me: NO. I have to throw it away. It's not even a ball anymore. It's just a lump of foam.

Jamie: It's a phone?

Me: No - I said foaM. With a M.

Jamie: I need a phone....

and he wanders away.

And not five minutes later I find a secret message of some sort from Lily. Apparently the English language does not have adequate vocabulary for her so she decided to use hieroglyphics of some sort. She later read it me but it still didn't make sense.