The Sunday Before Memorial Day

*Disclaimer: Memorial Day is a holiday that is near and dear to my heart.  We try our best to honor and teach our children to honor the veterans and ancestors that have given so much so that we can live the life we live.  (Which, I might add, we try to do specially Memorial Day but also all year long).  Each year we also attend the beautiful celebration that our stake does to honor veterans.  However, since we can't go put flowers on graves of those ancestors (like I did when I was a kid) because we live too far away,  we are doomed to spend the rest of the day working on the yard/garden/ other winter-neglected areas.

Besides being all the things that regular Sundays are-- a day of rest, filling your cup, and communion-- the Sunday before Memorial Day has a much deeper meaning of the word "rest."
Looking ahead to Memorial Day, you think, "I've got a holiday coming up, an extra day that I can get something done that has been nagging at me for all of the winter.  So you make your list, check it twice, order it and rank it according to importance.  Then you plot and plan.
This year, our biggest goal was to get the garden in.  We finally got the tractor AND the tiller working, and even got so far as getting the garden tilled before the rain changed our plans.  We spent the last two weeks dodging downpours and neglecting the house work to pick up rocks, pull scotchbroom and other noxious weeds and smooth out the ground.  Because we were so late getting our garden in we decided to go the seedling route and most of them were purchased and sitting on our porch awaiting the big day.
Pre-Memorial Day Saturday arrives and we start the day early.  Breakfast is a quick muffin and milkshake (smoothie).  And we are off. 
But wait!
There are a few things we need first, a trip to Home Depot is warranted.  Oh, and are we to the point of being able to order blocks for the retaining walls to FINALLY begin getting the yard in order.  So that has to be measured.  Oh, then do we want the ground level to here and then a wall?  How is that going to meet up with the driveway? And the sidewalk, do we want that to match?  Oh, but that tree has to go.  Do we go to the fence line?  Do we move the grapes?  How wide do we want to make that flower bed?  Oh, and do we make space for a small water structure?
Two and a half hours later:  Ok we've got the decisions made and measurements taken that we need, now we can go.
While we are out we might as well stop at Walmart and order the glasses the 4 kids need (topic for another post), so that one adult can herd/entertain/contain kids while the other helps with glasses.  But we need their prescriptions.  Quick trip to Pearle Vision to pick up the prescriptions.  But Wait! they can't find two of them.... 1 hour (and bored ornery children/ frustrated Mom) later they find them.  Ok pick the frames, order the glasses.  Then pick up the two tomato plants and a tomato cage there.
Gordon's Nursery is the only place around that has seed potatoes= trip to Yelm.  Great 3 kinds of seed potatoes picked.  Hey, they have spaghetti squash and cantelope seedlings  (that we can't find elsewhere).  Oh and Caleb and Jonas also have to grow 3 kinds of flowers from seedlings for 3 months for the gardening merit badge.  On to kid-in-the-candy-story-style picking out flowers (more than three kinds).  Look they have ladybugs and praying mantids for sale.  Ok, lets leave before we lose our shirts.
The crew (and puppy) causes quite a scene at Home Depot (well, really, everywhere we go).  Walking down the aisle to pick up some cauliflower plants we have to stop 3 girls from taking time to pick up fallen blooms, one little boy from knocking all the plants off, and 8 kids from chasing the cat (yes, a cat at Home Depot) just to pet it. (Who wouldn't run after seeing that mob come after them?!?!). 
Stakes for finishing the rabbit fence- check
cauliflower plants picked- check
stakes and tie ups for the beans and peas- check
Caleb- check
Anastasia- check
Alina- Check
Kristina- check
Jonas- check
Ryah- check
Elijah--- Elijah?
Elijah where is Elijah?!?!  Oh and where is Miriam?
Oh, whew!!  There they are, luckily together.
And look!  We still have 2 hours in which we can actually put some plants in the ground.
The kids picked up more rocks and smoothed more ground while Dad and Mom plant the rest of the squashes, tomatoes, cauliflower and cabbages.
At dark we drag ourselves in eat a quick supper and spill ourselves into bed.
You couldn't tell by what we did, but everyone was exhausted.  Most all the kids had a hard time staying awake in sacrament meeting, the rest of them should have had naps.
Yes, Sunday is a day of rest and of resting up so we have enough energy to work hard on Monday.  Can we have a vacation from our vacation?!?!?!

Food issues again

I apologize right off the bat for beating the dead horse of food issues.  But this issue comes up in varying degrees several times an hour at our house.  So, in reality I am showing great restraint by only bringing it up this much.  LOL
On Saturdays I usually let one or two kids make breakfast (I gave in after being hounded and now it is a tradition).  As a result it usually takes longer than normal to get breakfast.  Last Saturday Anastasia and Miriam had a turn.  By the time they were ready to eat it was time to go.  We had intended on taking them the the kids' workshop at Lowes (where they get to build something- this week catapaults).  So we asked each one of them if they wanted to eat breakfast or go to the kids' workshop.  Lo and behold, all of them said that they would rather go to the workshop.  All of them except Ryah.  This is significant.  This tells us that they are getting more attached, getting more trusting that we will provide for them.
And then there is Ryah.....

Oh and for the record, we took pancakes, cheese sticks and bananas to eat in the car on the way.

Hello, You Fool, I Love You. Come Join the Joy Ride -- Roxette

We had a very productive Saturday.  At least compared to the last couple (when we were sick).
We finally had the all the fluids changed in the tractor and everything greased up.  It was time to fire it up!!
After clearing the engine of bad gas (that it was shipped with) she fired right up and then the fun began.  Required: One hour running in each gear (6 forward and 2 reverse) with no load.  Another hour using the PTO.

Keith ran it for an hour and then... surprise... he let me drive it.  I ran it for another hour.  Joy riding on the tractor... if you can call going 2-3 miles an hour joyriding.

While we did that the kids picked up junk, moved the burn pile, took the garden fence down, weeded strawberries and caught bugs, snakes and lizards.

We started a fire to get rid of all the bushes, sticks and whatnot from clearing out the blueberry patch. I told the kids that for every 10 scotchbroom plants they pulled up they could throw something on the fire. 

Now scotchbroom is a piece of work.  It blooms this time of year, a splash of yellow in a sea of brown and green.  But its blooms' arrival is anything but heralded.  It is an non-native weed that spreads easily, quickly and thoroughly.  It's pollen is big and heavy (this is the reason they brought it in-- to plant by the freeway-- they didn't count on the big trucks still being able to spread the pollen).  And if someone has seasonal allergies, it is a pretty safe bet that scotchbroom is on their list.  Of course, like all noxious weeds it is a bugger to get out.  The tap root goes down 6 or 8 inches and sends a lot of smaller roots out.  If they are big enough it takes 3 people to dig and pull to get it out.

Well, it wasn't too long before the fire was completely forgotten.  I don't know why they had so much fun with the scotchbroom but I aint complainin'!!

We had hot dogs and marshmellows over the fire for supper.  Then sat back in the dark and enjoyed the fire.  It was a perfect summer day:  hard work, good food and relaxing in front of the fire.

Then Monday (yesterday) I told the kids we were going to pick 2 people to do dishes and everyone else was going to work outside for chores.  This was greeted with a rousing, "Hurrah!!"  The kids played while I drove the tractor some more (as long as I dared leave them relatively unattended).    The dishes people hurried fast and finished quickly.  We then divided into two groups. One group would tackle the scotchbroom and the other would work on weeding the strawberries for 20 minutes.  Then we would switch.  At the end we would compare piles and see who got the most weeds pulled.  They went with a vengence.  They didn't even care that we didn't actually get to comparing the piles.  Didn't matter who won. 

They were grateful when it was time to work on supper.  I built a fire with a couple of kids, while a couple others washed vegetables for dutch oven stew.  While we were waiting for the fire to produce enough coals, Kristina wanted to keep doing scotchbroom (we had come up with a system that made it... I can't quite say easy... easier to pull them out and she was excited about it).  Not one to waste desires to work, I jumped up and worked with her.  And we worked.  And we worked.  Pretty soon others saw us having fun and joined in.  Coals were ready (Keith becomes the cook outdoors) and we just kept working.  I was tired but didn't want to waste any of her eagerness.  Our goal was to do to the cable box... then to the big rocks.  I finally talked her into quitting to eat and because it would be 10 minutes until it was too dark to tell which was scotchbroom and which was blackberries. 

We had dutchoven stew, cobbler and then everyone crashed.

While we are definately losing our war on scotchbroom, I'm calling the battle for us!!!

Indulge me a little....

Sorry.  I couldn't resist.

Elijah got a hold of one of the frosting bags from Kristina's cake.

For some reason I held off through the initial "arghhh, yuck, blech, too much sugar" thoughts and just watched him.

Can you see the concentration and focus he has on getting every little lick of sweetness?  He isn't worried about getting messy blue.  He isn't worried about what is going on around him.  In fact, he isn't even worried at all.  Oh, yes.  To become as little children.  To enjoy the moment for what it is worth.  To get a little blue.

Oh, and Elijah seems to have some quick reflexes.  For the life of me, I can't seem to get very many pictures of him with his eyes actually all the way open.....

Kristina turns 10!!!!

After much anticipation and frustration (of the slow time) Kristina's birthday finally arrived.  She was excited to have her birthday on Mother's Day.  She woke up shortly after I woke up (yes, hypervigilant).  And she and I made cake to decorate.  She saw on the back of the cake box that you could make cupcakes in ice cream cones so that is what she wanted me to make to take to school.  Since I've never done that we decided to make a practice run and do it for her family cake.  After they were in the oven came the long wait for everyone to wake up so she could open presents.  She was very gracious and she and I took turns opening presents.  She got a soccer goal from Grandma and Grandpa J.  Some puzzles and games from Grandma and Grandpa Nielson.  From us she got a soccer ball and a coupon to go to the store and get fabric to make a quilt and have Mom help her make it (she has been begging to do that for a LONG time... ever since Mom pulled her quilt making out). 

Then we all ate a very late breakfast, got everyone through the bath, and then made everyone lie down to take a nap.  We have been fighting all kinds of bugs and wanted to get everyone a chance to get over it. That is why most everyone is in PJ's.

Cake decorating was next.  Kristina wanted flowers on her cake.  I have been decorating cakes for a long time (since Caleb was 1 year old) but I have never taken a class.  I've seen a couple demonstrations over the years but really know nothing about decorating cakes... especially something that takes talent like flowers. So I did lots of fiddling on a plate first.  Of course I had 8 children crowding around watching and wanting to participate.

Before

So instead of just packing the frosting back into a container and into the fridge to be thrown out later, I let the kids play with it.  Oh, they had so much fun. Luckily, I had made a small batch of frosting or we would have more frosting than cupcakes. :)

After

The games and puzzles have been done over and over.  The soccer equipment is waiting for Monday after chores are done... none too impatiently, I might add.

Oh, and Kristina loves being ten.  It is now her favorite number:  she is 10 and there are 10 people in our family.

~~~~HAPPY BIRTHDAY, KRISTINA~~~~

Uneventful beginning and roller coaster end

Jonas' pregnacy was largely uneventful.  I wasn't as sick as with Caleb but nearly so.  I would lie on the couch only getting up to throw up, change a movie, or make a sandwich for Caleb.  Poor, social, little Caleb would cry when a visiting someone would leave, he was soooo bored.  But he was also very helpful, getting drinks of water and such for me.  I think I had to go to the hospital once or twice to be re-hydrated.  But that was about it.

The fun all started when, at a routine appointment about a week before Jonas' due date, and as a result of Caleb being a forcept deliver, the Dr gave me some medicine to start an induction, 1/2 of a tablet placed on the cervix.  Expecting it to not work or at least take a while (at least a day so that Jonas didn't have the same birthday) I went home and Keith left to go to the airport to pick up Mom and Dad.  Before he left he asked me, "Are you sure you are going to be ok for 3 hours?"  I sent him on his way, but when he put it that way I got a little worried.  There was no way that they were going to have the same birthday.  However, I was starting to get strong pains and had some inkling of a doubt that he would make it back in time.  :)  I made supper (it was something with broccoli) and changed a couple messy underwear from a potty-training Caleb and sat on the chair to wait.

Keith came home and I encouraged him to get supper for Mom and Dad.  By the time he asked me if he could get me something, I said, "to the hospital."  HARD contractions in the back made me not remember how far apart they were (if I even timed them at all) and I was in a pain-induced panic on the way to the hospital sure that we weren't going to make it.  At the hospital I asked if I could walk and not be wheeled in a wheelchair.  And again with the signing the paper.  Do papers signed under duress of labor hold up in a court of law?!?!?!

When the nurse checked me (I was at a 3) she said "If you stay.. then..." something, something something.  I didn't get very far past the "IF."  I launched into a big rant about not going anywhere with pain this severe, no IF, lady, I was staying here.  Luckily, Keith said I didn't say a word.  I guess I'm not very vocal when I'm in labor.   This is the same nurse that told me, when I was dilated to an 8 or so, to tell her when I had an urge to push and she would call the doctor.  Only problem is I had an epidural with Caleb.  I don't know what it feels like to have an urge to push.  I pushed once, realized what the urge to push feels like and Jonas was out in push number two.  Oh, and the doctor lives 20 minutes away.  The nurse didn't have time to change the bed around from a laboring bed to a birthing bed.  She didn't have time to put a gown on.  She didn't even have time to go to get all the support people.  So, here she is with the gown hanging on one arm, bed half apart, holding Jonas' head hollering in the general direction of the door "I NEED SOME HELP IN HERE."  Dr. Blackner was pretty angry at her. Apparently, he has never been able to make it to a birth at which she was the head nurse.

Total time in the hospital until birth (or time to dialate from a 3 to a 10):  2 hours.  No time for an epidural. 

He barely squeaked in as a birthday present for Caleb, 11:30 at night.
They took Jonas to be checked and came back sometime later saying that his skin was all mottled and he was breathing funny.  They were going take an x-ray of his chest, and keep him in the nursery and have a nurse watching him full time.  I tried to get some sleep but I could hear him (he was the only one in the nursery) crying all night and I was very concerned.  The next day (or sometime after that anyway, it is all kind of one big blur) they said they see something on his lung and they were calling the baby ambulance from Mary Bridge to come get him.  They brought him in and let me hold him while they waited for it to come. 

A battery of 4 or 5 nurses came in with a portable isolette and introduced them selves to me as the team that would stand watch on Jonas' trip from Capital Medical Center to Mary Bridge Children's hospital in Tacoma.  A respiratory therapist, a person specializing in neo-natal resuccitation and I don't remember who all else.  I was very disappointed that they wouldn't let me ride in the ambulance with him.  But, I wasn't release from the hospital myself, officially anyway.  We hurried and got released and went up after him in the car.

Thus began my introduction to a whole (largely unnoticed by the outside world) world of desperately ill babies and children.

It was decided by the neonatal surgeon and his people that Jonas had a cyst on his lung and it was pushing his heart completely on the left side of his body and restricting his breathing.  It would have to come out along with as much as 1/3 of his lung.  However, surgery wouldn't be done until he was considerably less yellow.  Yes, he had the blood incompatability problem, as well.  They had him under bili lights and the kangaroo blanket (bililights in blanket form to wrap around their chest).  The hospital social worker bedded Keith and I in one of their "Parent Apartments."  Parent Apartments are rooms in the hospital, or apartments they had rented or purchased across or down the street for parents of the sick children in the hospital to stay in.  The first couple of days we stayed in one at the hospital.  It had a small fridge, bathroom and TV, what more could you ask???  

I think they put him on an IV and lights and just watched him for a that first day he was there.  I felt so guilty when I went there to visit my 7 pound something boy amidst all the 1 pound, 2 pound babies that were so tiny venilators would punch holes in their lungs, so they would have to have special venilators that would do special little puffs of air.  Babies whose mothers were still upstairs in the hospital recovering from their own trauma.

Oh, and it was quite an ordeal just to get in to see him.  You had to pass the reception desk that apparently wouldn't let "undesirables" in, though we never saw any altercations and they hardly even glanced at us.... even the first time we went in.  Then you had to go to a big sink where you had to open a scrubber, squirt soap on and spend 10 minutes scrubbing the skin off your hands... and any germs that happened to be brave enough to stay that far.  Then you had to run the gauntlet of rows of isolettes like soldiers standing watch over their precious charges, any one of which you would have love to hear the story on.  But even in those pre-HIPPA days privacy was valued and you didn't dare ask.  Once in a while you would see a barrage of doctors huddled around one of the isolettes murmuring quietly but intensely with worried faces.  It would make your heart break.

Jonas wasn't a happy camper.  He cried a lot.  We would go in and find another kind of pacifier added to the ever growing line on the window sill behind his bed.  We once had a nurse tell us "you know you are in for a rough night when you come in to take care of a baby and there are one or two pacifiers lined up, but you know you are in REALLY big trouble when there are 6 or 8."  They called me in often to nurse him- much more often than the 4 hours that they usually do-- because that was one of about two things that would calm him down. 

After about a day, for whatever reason, they decided that they didn't need to wait for his liver to break down all the biliruben and decided to do surgery the next morning.  Dr Blackner had encouraged us to give him a name and a blessing in the hospital.  He knew that the nurses and doctors would be very open to that (provided anyone who helped would scrub all their skin off too) and would pull a portable screen around us to give some privacy (well, as much as you can have in a room with 30 preemies and their nurses).  So we called Brother Johnson to bring Dad up (which was very kind as it was pretty late) so they and Keith could perform the ordinance and give him a priesthood blessing.  I sat nearby and tried to remember everything that was said so I could write it down.

I thought at the time (and many times since), that, although I wouldn't wish the situation on any one- having to give your child a name and a blessing in the hospital on short notice- it sure pares it down to what is important.  It isn't the fancy white clothes, who is going to stand in the circle, or even the food afterwards.  It is two parents-with their support people- appealing to Heavenly Father on behalf of their child.  A communion of earthly parents and Heavenly Parents where both are joyful and celebrating, but also a little apprehensive in giving up or receiving protection of the precious little soul for which so much has been given.  Though Jonas barely had a diaper on and had a myriad of wires attacking him, to me he was dressed in white encircled about by my arms, yes, but also those of whom he had just left, family of all sorts.  Monitors ceased their beeping and ventilators quieted their noises and angels sang, like a breath on your cheek.  Truly the veil was very thin then.

I never really felt that we would lose Jonas.  However, that night I woke up about 3:00 and kind of lost it.  They were going to cut into my baby, they were going to shove a tube down his throat and take away some of his lungs.  He was too little for that. 

Keith, wise man that he is, called the nurses and asked if I could come hold Jonas.  "It would be good for both of them."  After unhooking what wires they could I held him until they took him away to be prepped for surgery.

We began the 4 hour surgery wait.  A nurse came out and told us he was all ready and they were waiting for the surgeon to finish getting ready.  Surgery would begin in about 10 minutes.  She would come back in about an hour and give us an update.  30 minutes later the doctor came out.  When the doctor comes out unexpectedly there is only two possible outcomes.  Luckily, the doctor told us that everything went well, Jonas did very well.  The cyst turned out to be a pocket of air on the lining of the lung.  They didn't even have to dig into the lung.  He felt bad, wondering if the problem would have resolved itself.  But we felt, very strongly too, that things happened the way they were supposed to.  Who knows if that meant it wouldn't have resolved itself, it would have gotten worse, or if we needed to be in that position for some other reason.  So we ended up reassuring the doctor.

As a funny side note, on Jonas' chart it listed the surgery as a "blebectomy"- removal of a bleb.  Who knows what a bleb is but it is sure fun to say.

Then began the nearly 2 weeks (that seemed like 2 years) of recovery.  His little body looked so small when we were allowed to see him again.  He was so still and small-looking with so many instruments, tubes and wires going every which way.

A polaroid the nurses took of Jonas just after they removed his breathing tube,
all swollen and bruised

For the next week Jonas was in the NICU.  Keith went back to work and I bounced around from Parent Apartment to Parent Apartment.  Jonas was a little bit better behaved but I still felt like I was on a short leash. The nurses would call me in when he wouldn't calm down and I would nurse him.  I didn't have a car because Keith had one and we left one for Grandma and Grandpa.  Grandma and Grandpa Nielson had extended their stay to take care of Caleb while Jonas was still in the hospital.  Caleb loved having Grandma and Grandpa to play with but he would cry every time I left to go see Jonas. So, I was stuck with where I could walk.  There was a thrift store and a couple fast food restraunts that I could go to and still be back in time to nurse.  I even had to get a security escort to go nurse him when it was dusk or dark as the hospital is in the more seedy part of town.  I got very antsy, and very bored.  I got depressed and lonely.  It also didn't help that everyone was waiting for Jonas to be able to nurse long enough to sustain his weight and be able to go home.  I had lactation specialist after lactation specialist come in and consult with me.  I felt like such a failure. I wasn't holding him properly, I wasn't producing enough milk or any number of other excuses.  It was very liberating and appreciated when one (who had been on vacation) came in and said that it was just because Jonas didn't have the stamina yet to nurse for long enough.  She did a lot for my self esteem that suffered severely during that time.  I wanted to kiss her.
Jonas was moved to the transitional nursery or level 2 nursery.  It was carpeted and quieter.  They even had lights periodically on the ceiling down the hall that would light up when someone was being too loud.  The babies were actually dressed and wrapped in blankets.  He spent another week there.  I was able to do more in taking care of him.  When I was there they let me change his diapers and clothes and give him baths.
It was about this time that Grandma and Grandpa Nielson left to go home and Grandma and Grandpa J came to help.  It was all a grand adventure for Caleb.
It is a number game when you are waiting for a child to be able to get out of the hospital.  Do the oxygen sats stay up on their own?  Is he eating enough? (We actually had to weigh him before and weigh him after nursing to see how much he ate).  Is his heartrate staying even without any drops?  Each little milestone was celebrated, each little dip in numbers left a shadow of weeks more in recovery.
The last two nights Jonas was in the hospital they let me bring him into my room, they were nice enough to put me in a parent apartment at the hosptal--- I guess probably for that purpose.  I was so excited because that meant he was very close to coming home... but I was paranoid.  Though they wouldn't have let me do it if there was a concern that he wouldn't be ok or if they had any doubts that I could take care of him.  It is a little nerve wracking not having the monitors telling me that he was ok.  I've decided that I have kept that feeling for most of Jonas' life.  Through this experience of having him in the hospital, and all the issues we have had with his asthma I have invested a lot of emotional energy.  I panicked when he went to Kindergarten.  It wasn't until then that I felt a need for a cell phone.... but I digress.
It was glorious to finally take him home.  To finally be together as a family, to lead some semblence of a normal life.  It would be another couple of days before Keith's parents went home and reality hit that I had two kids to keep happy. LOL
We enjoy having Jonas in our family!!  He keeps us entertained with his dancing, stories and the creative things he says.  Life would definately be much duller place without Jonas!!

If you look closely you can see Jonas' birthmark on his forehead.  Lots of nurses called it a stork bite, had one call it a skid mark.  I liked that better than stork bite.  It was mostly gone by the time he was one and just stick out, bright and purple when he got angry or was crying.