Odds and ends

I have been letting Gillian run around diaperless after baths for the past few weeks, and she has really started looking forward to it (particularly the family-romp-on-the-bed-post-bath time). Twice now, she has peed on herself and the floor. The first time was a bit traumatic, like, "what...is....HAPPENING TO ME?!?" I suppose if you have never felt the consequences of being diaperless and peeing, it would freak you out a little initially. (Sensation I usually get...but, Oh, Wait? What is this warm wetness going down my leg and pooling around my feet?!?) The idea is that if she feels what it's like to soil herself, maybe she'll start getting serious about her Potty. It seems to be working. She likes to sit on Potty before her bath now, and even though nothing usually comes out, she grunts like she's giving it a really effort. And a real effort is better than....no effort? right?

But the interesting thing is that now she is certain that any water on the floor is "tee-tee", and I can't convince her otherwise. In fact, the bath water is Tee-tee, water droplets from her sippy on her tray is tee-tee (although the liquid IN her sippy cup is water)...You get the point. So, we had a heart to heart last night. I knew I got my academic training for something. The deep and philosophical conversation went something like this:

Gilly (pointing at water): "Tee-Tee!!!"
me: "Not so much, Bug. This is WATER."
Gilly, in gleeful disagreement: "Tee-TEE!"
me: "Gilly, pee-pee comes out of Gilly (pointing out her nether region), and water comes out of the bathtub (pointing at the faucet)"
Gilly: "Tee-tee?" (consternation), "Wau-oo?" (Wauoo=water)
me: "Yes, this is water. Pee-pee goes in the potty or a diaper (pointing out both)"
Gilly: "Wau-oo, Wau-oo, Wau-oo (singing). TEE-TEE!"
me: *sigh*

Speaking of family-romp-on-the-bed-post-bath time, Gillian is VERY fond of going nite-nite (she has studied this phenomenon so much that yesterday she even began enunciating the "t" in 'night'). So, Sean and I must pretend to go night-night. over. and. over. She loves it when we jolt awake and tickle her, and then she pushes our heads back down on to the pillow and says "nite-nite" (or a not-so-subtle HEY, DO IT AGAIN!!!!). She also pretends she is asleep and requires the blanket to be pulled up over her (blanket= "det"), and even mimics the snoring/whistling of our exaggerated slumber. Why, this morning, she said her first two word sentence, whilst covering up Ball with a "det", "nite nite, ball!" When we are ready to go to bed for real, I tell her to go tell Papa nite-nite and give him a kiss, and she walks up to him, hugs him, kisses him, and waves and says, "nite-nite!", retiring to her suite for a warm bottle and a rocking chair snuggle session before bed.

Our girl is a little particular in some ways. She likes to investigate and inspect things up close, and then put them back exactly where she got them (medicine cabinet finds, for example). She likes for people (and herself) to put on their coats ("ghat?") and hats ("hatttt") when anyone mentions the word "outside", and really wants to be assured you are staying awhile by helping you out of your coat when you get home (last night, upon his arrival home, she very aggressively pushed Sean's coat off of his arms, chanting, "ghat, ghat, ghat!"). This is not always so happy...when I got home yesterday, she ran to see me ("MAMAMAMAMA!") and then turned to Silvia, waved and said "bye-bye" and got her coat for her. Like, "don't let the door hit you in the backside on your way out, lady!". I hope Silvia didn't take that too personally.

She sings all the time, which is incredibly sweet, and I can even tell which songs she is singing sometimes. She reads books, finger going along the sentences, her out-load reading sounding a lot like, "blicka-blicka-blicka-blicka" peppered with words she knows for things she sees in the pictures. She says "please" (teece?). She is like a ray of light. So, I love her (so much), obviously. But I also LIKE her. She's a groovy girl-fearless and funny, and so very very sweet (did I mention her kisses now have the characteristic lip-smack?). Anyway, lots of little things that I may or may not capture on video that I want to remember...so thanks for indulging my self-indulgence.

So, in a nutshell, I find myself thinking, "this is the BEST PHASE YET!!" as I do with every phase so far. She is such a little person these days.

Good help is hard to find

I am sooooooo behind on my video editing, so here's a short and recent one that only required me to rename the file. Gillian is becoming helpful around the house. She helps me prepare food, wash dishes, unload the dishwasher, and do laundry, and feels quite pleased with herself for contributing. Pretty exciting when a child begins to demonstrate an understanding of what you are saying with words or actions.

It's not all bad.... AND 8 years and counting

So, the teething thing came on like a MAC truck. I have felt the lurking mounds of molar on her bottom jaw on both sides for a few weeks now. Yesterday they were actually poking through. And Gillian was a mess. And we are really tired. But to remind myself of her usual sweetness and the better things, let me present to you photos of Gillian's first St. Patrick's Day jam session:



She really loved the music, and wasn't a bit shy about walking right up to the musicians and studying their hands as they played. She has pretty good rhythm, too. I have to say, it has always been a bit of a fantasy of mine to be able to dance a jig with my happy baby daughter at a session. And dance, we did. It was definitely a far cry from the old days when Holly and I would put on our vintage Gunne Sax dresses and combat boots and shamelessy, breathlessly dance for beer at Four Green Fields. All night. Now, my ancient-feeling self thinks, "how did we DO that?" I am barely able to function after 10 pm now. Much less after 10 pm and 10 Guinnesses. Heh.

Also, another milestone- Tuesday was our 8 year wedding anniversary. If you think about that + the three years we dated first, that's a third of my life with Sean. That is a REALLY long time, and it feels like it went by like a blink. We celebrated last Friday and had a lovely dinner at our favorite sushi place, Tanoshi, and ate to near blissful Mike Magical oblivion (with a soundtrack of 80s hairband music. awesome.). We headed over to Duke's, which I am ashamed to say, we had never been to (it is a wonderful neighborhood dive). Sean, the Trad purist, was not impressed with the kitschy "irish" band playing such nauseating tired (yet still crowd pleasing) old standards as the Wild Irish Rover. I started falling asleep at the bar by 11. So sad. Dearest Andrea volunteered to watch G (she didn't even know it was our anniversary-so nice!) and told us to stay out as late as we wanted (an open invitation, no less!), and the latest I could muster was 11. I must be a MOM or something. THANK YOU, ANDREA for braving our ball hoarding, crayon doodling, book mongering, yapping fiend for a couple of hours. I am very glad she was angelic for you (unless you are trying to spare me by exaggerating her pristine behavior). Needless to say, my friends are amazing. :-)

Molars SUCK

Really, really, really SUCK. Gillian is screaming so hard she is hyperventilating in her room. We have been trying to put her down for two hours. Sean and I need a vacation. She needs relief from her dental tectonics.

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!

Hallelujah! Today was almost 60 degrees! You could tell the difference on people's faces (not as tired...hopeful, HAPPY), and the lightness in their step. Like a weight was lifted off. Even though I had to work today, I still got out for a quick walk at lunch, and *ahhhhh* it was amazing to be outside with no gloves and no scarf...

Sean took G to the park and she walked all the way from the pier to the bathroom (a long way when you are new to walking). She had a bonus late afternoon playtime out back with Elliot and Sarah, where she hoarded a small soccer ball and we mamas discussed the odd toddler love of all things round (all of which are balls, regardless of whether they are screws, pin heads, oranges, or actual balls) and our love of American Idol. Gillian doesn't get the idea of balls just yet. She covets them, and is very possessive (and loves to hug, pet, and kiss them). Elliot was very kind to humor her. I took her to the park yesterday (it was probably 15 degrees colder, but it was warm enough and the sun was out), and took her out of the stroller and let her walk around, but really, she was more interested in trying to figure out the logistics of holding the ball AND her baby at the same time, and didn't get the whole kicking or tossing the ball just yet. It was strange to see her look so perplexed at the dirt and leaves that stuck to her pants and baby...since the ground has been frozen and covered in snow and ice she probably really doesn't remember grass all that well (how weird is that?).

Anyway, we have turned a corner. It will fall back to the low 40s for the weekend, but IT'S THE LOW 40S (as opposed to the 20s and 30s and dreary dreary dreary). Also, we are now coming into sunny days again, Thank God. Within 4 weeks, we will have leaves again!!! What will Gilly think of that? I am sooooooooo ready for green!! YAY SPRING!

When life is like a Norman Rockwell painting...

Somewhere between Gillian helping me make salads, gleefully, and all of us romping on the bed after her bath, I thought, "it doesn't get much better than this." Better than what? Being greeted with a beaming HEALTHY little girl saying, "Mama! Hi!" in her Papa's arms, who apparently had a great day with her friend Francie? Or the moments when she literally helped me make salads, washing the veggies and arranging them on the plates, while we were singing and laughing...or maybe it was during dinner when she had so much to tell us about her day, excitedly in her little girl voice. Then there was her little hand gestures that said she wanted to sing "where is thumbkin?" And at bath time, where she made me tear up twice, heart overflowing... At bedtime, she grabbed her nappy (which doubles as a lovey), layed her sweet head on the rocking chair and said "nite-nite". She had a bottle, snuggled up to me in her rocking chair, and when she was done, she gestured toward her bed and said "nite nite" again telling me her day was done and she was ready to sleep-in her safe little bed and dream her iridescent angel dreams.

Sometimes it's like this, where you think, "is this my life?" Is this my beautiful child? Is this my great love? Is this my joy, and my work, and my peace? And then you're overcome, because it wasn't always like this-all shining and magnificent. Coming from dark places, it is even more overwhelming to be neck deep in blessings, and beauty, and love. But I swear with all that is holy in me that I will work my entire life to make these days number more than other kinds, to paint the walls of this house with laughter and the security of knowing my family is aware of how full of love and light it is. This is our home. This is MY family.

Survival Mode

So, as you are aware, life has been a bit of a challenge for us here, lately. I promise to get back on the "uplifting stories of hope and thankfulness" wagon as soon as possible. Sean and I both caught The Plague from our tiny little viral cornucopia. I still had my sense of humor early Tuesday morning, but by 8am things were going south in a big way. Sean was so sick he couldn't get out of bed. At 8:30 I went in to get Gillian, and found her covered in her own feces. Yep-this day when Sean and I were sick and getting sicker by the second, THIS was the day she chose take off her diaper, find a surprise, and smear it everywhere-on the crib slats, the mattress, her blanket, stuffed animals, burp cloth, her shirt, her face, her hair, all over her hands and under her nails, and I *think* she might have even tried it to see what it tasted like (because folks, it was on her MOUTH). I should have known something was up when it got awful quiet in there after the initial signal that she was awake (turning on the mobile), but she likes to wake up slow and play a little while in the morning, so I didn't rush in. I have observed already that things can always get worse, and sure on this day, our Fecal Debacle is once again proof that God's sense of humor is perfectly intact. But, since I have heard at least one Playing in One's Own Poop story at at least every other family function, I have to ask the question: what is the fascination with Poop? Because it is a not-so-foreign-object you made all by yourself, that can be used as finger paint? Because it is cute, and round, and squishy? I wondered if the smell was at all a put-off, then I remembered she tried a taste. Apparently not.

OK. So, I realize every parent has these little stories of disgustingness, but I can honestly say I really didn't have the energy to clean up her entire crib, and her. I was feeling pretty bad. The ironic thing was I had just read Sarah's entry called Poop Springs Eternal hours earlier, and I decided that the theme of the day was to be Poop and Sickness. Excellent. The only reprieve is that my nose was so stuffed up I couldn't smell what she had done. At least there was something positive I could say about being sick, for a second. Sean dragged his fever-ridden sweating self out of bed to put everything in her crib in the wash while I carried my poop smeared girl to the bathtub for an unexpected Morning Rinse and Wash.

Suzi's arrival loomed forever out of grasp-her flight Monday was cancelled. Her new flight Tuesday morning was delayed (good ol' weather, again). I needed to lay down too, and Gillian was super needy because she felt so awful. I wanted to cry when she said she wouldn't be here till 3pm instead of 11am, because I needed those extra 4 hours of help... I had to go out and get something to help Sean's fever, and I had to bring my sick baby out in the freezing cold (Sean was so weak and shaky I couldn't leave her with him). UGH. Somehow I managed (at this point I'm feeling worse and worse) and got Gillian back, fed, and in bed for a nap (and myself down for a nap also after a quick straightening up as to not horrify Suzi with the state of the house). Suzi arrived around 3, and ever the fabulous hosts, I went to bed with Sean for the rest of the afternoon (getting up to feed G and give her medicine, but everything else I left to Suzi). Wednesday and Thursday we got even sicker, constant fevers coming and going, sweating then shaking with chills. I got a sore throat and my nose was so stuffy it squeaked when I swallowed from the suction in my swollen sinuses. Sean lay in bed, vomiting and sweating. It was quite the petri dish around here. I can truthfully say I hadn't been that sick since I was 20, and that in the 11 years I have been with Sean, I have never seen him that sick.

Today, I have regained my sense of humor. I did not die. Sean did not die. Gillian did not die. I am not feeling fine today, but I am seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, and I'm on the other side of this thing. But, I have to observe the fact that it is *almost* impossible to function as parents when both people are very sick. So much so that Sean weakly asked at one point, "are you sure you want to have another one? I mean, how could we manage with two kids being this sick?" It is hard to deal with a sick baby when you're healthy and well. It is a hundred times harder when both parents are ill. Particularly when the best thing for you is to sleep it off.

So, as I had so keenly observed Tuesday morning at 4am: Suzi took care of Gillian during most of her stay; Sean got no work done; we got no dates out (unless it counts to lay in bed together with chills and fever); and I missed an entire week of work. I want to blame the winter. Because if it wasn't still an icebox outside maybe we wouldn't be having a rabid cold and flu outbreak up here, people all cloistered together because we can't seem to get a break to get outside. To the winter that never ends, I am shaking my fist of rage.

The Little Bug or The House of Ill

Somewhere between my 1000th tissue and ever-impending sinus head implosion and Sean waking up this morning at 5 am shaking with chills, it hit me-this whole story could be one of the Fractured Fairytale (my favorites are from the Rocky and Bullwinkle Show). We might call it "The Little Bug"...since one of Gillian's nicknames is "Bug". It could be the bastardization of Robin Hood (since, by definition it can only be a true fractured fairytale if it is the bastardization of a real fable), where she took from one person and gave to someone else. Except this time it has a sinister twist. Bug, our heroine, would be as in Vector:

a. an insect or other organism that transmits a pathogenic fungus, virus, bacterium, etc. OR
b. any agent that acts as a carrier or transporter, as a virus or plasmid that conveys a genetically engineered DNA segment into a host cell.

The moral of the story would be something like, "and with that, The Little Bug shared her plague with everyone she loved, proving once and for all that Big things can come in little packages".

Unfortunately for Suzi, she is coming to visit us at probably the worst possible time for her, and possibly the best possible time for us-she is risking being infected by our respective mutations of whatever virus this might be, AND while being a mom and all, can nurse the lot of us. Even more unfortunately, I am thinking our big plans to catch up on every movie we have been wanting to see for the past 6 months and being able to go out every night she's here are going to go down in flames. Even more ironically, Sean will probably not be well enough to work the hours he was planning to work this week. You know, because chills are not conducive to fine carving techniques. So, I apologize in advance for the Most Thankless Birthday ever to be bestowed upon a Grandmother. Particularly the quintessential grandmother that is one Suzanne Colledge, and Gillian's beloved "Nonni". We hope your most influential gift this year is NOT chills, fever, and a respiratory infection. And thanks in advance for all the help you are destined to be this week...

Update

Thanks for all the kind emails and comments. Your concern is so awesome, and I appreciate you taking the time to let us know you are thinking about us. Note that Gillian's reaction to fever is not typical (3-5% of kids react this way to sharp increases in body temperature). She is better today, and her fever broke twice last night (she woke up crying and and soaking wet with sweat). No serious temps today, just a good old fashioned runny nose and some clinginess (which is a welcome change from yesterday and the night before). For your questions about febrile seizures, here is an excerpt (from Medline):

Definition
A febrile seizure is a convulsion in a child triggered by a fever. Such convulsions occur without any underlying brain or spinal cord infection or other neurologic cause.

Causes
About 3-5% of otherwise healthy children between the ages of 9 months and 5 years will have a seizure caused by a fever. Toddlers are most commonly affected. There is a tendency for febrile seizures to run in families. Most occur well within the first 24 hours of an illness, not necessarily when the fever is highest (although hers happened at ~105, so it was high). The seizure is often the first sign of a fever.

The first febrile seizure is one of life's most frightening moments for parents. Most parents are afraid that their child will die or have brain damage. Thankfully, simple febrile seizures are harmless. There is no evidence that simple febrile seizures cause death, brain damage, epilepsy, mental retardation, a decrease in IQ, or learning difficulties.

Most febrile seizures are triggered by fevers from viral upper respiratory infections, ear infections, or roseola. Meningitis causes less than 0.1% of febrile seizures but should ALWAYS be considered, especially in children less than one year old or those who still look ill when the fever comes down.

A simple febrile seizure stops by itself within a few seconds to 10 minutes, usually followed by a brief period of drowsiness or confusion. Anticonvulsant medicines are generally not needed.

A complex febrile seizure is one that lasts longer than 15 minutes, occurs in an isolated part of the body, or recurs during the same illness.

About a third of children who have had a febrile seizure will have another one with a subsequent fever. Of those who do, about half will have a third seizure. Few children have more than three febrile seizures in their lifetime. (hopefully we'll be done at 2 of them-could we be so lucky?)

If there is a family history, if the first seizure happened before 12 months of age, or if the seizure happened with a fever below 102, a child is more likely to fall in the group that has more than one febrile seizure.

Symptoms

A febrile seizure may be as mild as the child's eyes rolling or limbs stiffening. Quite often a fever triggers a full-blown convulsion that involves the whole body.

Febrile seizures may begin with the sudden sustained contraction of muscles on both sides of a child's body -- usually the muscles of the face, trunk, arms, and legs. A haunting, involuntary cry or moan often emerges from the child, from the force of the muscle contraction (I had never heard Gillian make a sound like that, hence running, not walking to her room). The contraction continues for seemingly endless seconds, or tens of seconds. The child will fall, if standing, and may pass urine.

He may vomit. He may bite his tongue. The child may not be breathing, and may begin to turn blue.

Finally, the sustained contraction is broken by repeated brief moments of relaxation -- the child's body begins to jerk rhythmically. The child is unresponsive to the parent's voice.

Febrile seizures are different than tremors or disorientation also seen with fevers. The movements are the same as in a grand mal seizure.

Exams and Tests

A febrile seizure may be diagnosed by the health care provider when a grand mal seizure occurs in a child with a fever and no prior history of seizure disorders (epilepsy). In infants and young children, it is important to rule out other causes for a first-time seizure, especially meningitis.

In a typical febrile seizure, the examination usually shows no abnormalities other than the illness causing the fever. Typically, a full seizure workup including an EEG, head CT, and lumbar puncture (spinal tap) is not warranted.

However, the child's condition must meet strict medical criteria if these tests are to be avoided:

The child must be developmentally normal.
The seizure must be generalized (not focal), meaning more than one part of the body is involved.
The seizure may not last longer than 15 minutes.
The child cannot have had more than one febrile seizure in 24 hours.
The child's neurologic exam performed by a health care provider must be normal to be called a simple febrile seizure.
If all of these criteria are met, no further studies are likely to be required.

Treatment

During the seizure, leave your child on the floor. You may want to slide a blanket under him if the floor is hard. Move him only if he is in a dangerous location. Remove objects that may injure him. Loosen any tight clothing, especially around the neck. If possible, open or remove clothes from the waist up. If he vomits, or if saliva and mucus build up in the mouth, turn him on his side or stomach. This is also important if it looks like the tongue is getting in the way of breathing.

DO NOT try to force anything into his mouth to prevent him from biting the tongue, as this increases the risk of injury. DO NOT try to restrain your child or try to stop the seizure movements.

Focus your attention on bringing the fever down. Inserting an acetaminophen suppository into the child's rectum is a great first step, if you have some. DO NOT try to give anything by mouth. Apply cool washcloths to the forehead and neck. Sponge the rest of the body with lukewarm (not cold) water. Cold water or alcohol may make the fever worse. After the seizure is over and your child is awake, give the normal dose of ibuprofen or acetaminophen.

After the seizure, the most important step is to identify the cause of the fever.

Outlook (Prognosis)

Most children outgrow febrile seizures by age 5.

A small number of children who have had a febrile seizure go on to develop epilepsy, but not because of the febrile seizures. Children who would develop epilepsy anyway will sometimes have their first seizures during fevers. These are usually prolonged, complex seizures.

Previous neurologic problems and a family history of epilepsy also make future epilepsy more common. The number of febrile seizures is not related to future epilepsy.

Anyway, if there is a next time, I am now seasoned at this, and I won't be frantically calling 911. I know what it looks like, I know I have to let it take its course, and I know that even though it looks like it is really hurting her, it won't and she won't remember it. If any of you are unfortunate to experience this, maybe being aware of what is happening through our experience will help keep you calm.

Febrile Seizure: Round 2

Gillian got sick at lightening speed last night, getting chills and shaking in the bath. I had given her Tylenol at 6 last night because she seemed "achy", and Motrin at 9 because she was warm and put her to bed. I checked in on her a couple of times to see if she was breathing ok (she had suddenly become congested). At 10:30 I heard her make a gurgling gutteral shriek, and I ran in to find her convulsing in her crib. I pick her up right away and held her tiny pale body to me-she was turning blue, she was frothing at the mouth, and was not breathing. I called 911. The operator told me to lay her on her back, which I did. He asked if she was breathing, and I said I didn't know, couldn't tell because she was convulsing, but I didn't think so. She finally took a breath and stopped convulsing, and he told me to lay her on her side, where she vomited (the siezure probably lasted a couple of minutes). He told me to take her clothes off, which I did. They dispatched an ambulance, and they got here within a few minutes. We took her temperature- 104.7 degrees. They took us to St. Francis' ER, where they stablilized her temp, and where we were until 2am.

Today we have dealt with temps between 102.5 and 105, while on the Tylenol/Motrin regimen, which was not controlling her temp. We resorted to warm baths, as instructed at 4:30 am and 1:30 this afternoon ("if you need to quickly get her temp down"), which also didn't work. I called the on call doc when she and I woke up from a nap and her temp was 105, and she recalculated doses based on Gillian's weight and instructed me to up the dose on both. I was thrilled when we got her temp down to 102.5....

So, this is when you hole up and pray for it to pass quickly. You hope you don't get sick, too. You hope there are no more seizures, but just in case, you are willing to break the sleep rules and have her sleep with you. She could have aspirated on her vomit last night had I not heard her, and that terrifies me.

More than anything, while I watched her convulsing last night (sure she could die any second), in no uncertain terms it became clear to me that I value Gillian's life above anything else on this planet. Only later when I cried out some of the stress and fear of the whole night (which I did solo because Sean was out with friends up till the last little bit of the ER stay), did I realize that if anything ever happened to her, I would want to die too. I honestly don't know how people live through the loss of a child.

Things of Beauty

I'm not particularly well spoken, and words often fail me...they come out awkward and all wrong (a lot). But other forms of expression are much more forgiving of me. It has been fun watching Gillian discover the very early ways to express herself artistically-with crayons and finger paints, and even a little penny whistle playing (more like tooting, but still!). I look forward to raising her to have an appreciation for beautiful things in this life, whatever form they take.

To that end, I am so proud of Sean and the beauty he creates for a living. He has been making violins and violas for years now, forsaking the financially lucrative business world for his passion. I loved that he had a dream like that, and that we were fortunate enough to allow him to follow it. He is finishing his first cello (pictured "in the white" or as yet unvarnished, above) and it is magnificent. He will deny that he is an artist (we had a lively debate one night with Andrea and Doug about what constitutes an "artist"), but certainly his work are things of beauty. They will take on their own life, loved and cherished by the musicians who will play them for many years.

I look forward to our children growing up in a violinmaking shop. Maybe Gillian will grow up to be a violinmaker like her Papa, or maybe she'll be a painter, or a musician. Maybe she won't be an artist at all-maybe she'll be an architect or a banker. Life is so wonderful that way-completely malleable-something our hopes and dreams can mold and shape if we are brave enough to follow them. I hope she finds her love, and follows it passionately, courageously, even foolishly. The hope of any parent, of course, is that their children find true happiness whatever the course of their life takes. What a pleasure and how amazing it is to watch another person's life unfold (and a life that passed through you, no less). It is so humbling, really, and awe-inspiring.