Oh, Everly...

Just in case anyone was wondering if my little girl has self-confidence issues:

This morning while I was getting ready, Everly woke up.  She was a bit early in rising, but she was in a good mood and was happy to get dressed and ready with very little assistance.  She picked out her outfit by herself, got herself dressed, brushed her teeth (with a little assistance), and proceeded to brush her hair.  As she primped in front of the mirror, she tucked her hair behind her ears.  Checking herself out as she did it, I heard her proclaim, "Now there's my beautiful face."

Yep.  There it is.

A milestone for Cortlan - bring on the laces!

For over a year, I have said to Cortlan, "You are going to have to learn to tie your shoes!" Last summer, I made some attempt to teach him, though admittedly, I didn't give it my all.  I would show him and help him, once or twice, here and there, but his lack of interest and attention span wasn't very motivating for me.  I figured I would try again later.

A few months ago, Cortlan got two pairs of shoes with laces.  John and I knew that we would be tying his shoe for a while, but again, we kept saying, "Cortlan, you are going to have to learn to do this yourself!"  Despite that, we never really found the time to sit down to work with him. And he didn't seem any more motivated to learn.  On our priority list, teaching him kept falling to the bottom.

Yesterday morning, however, he decided that instead of wearing the velcro shoes that he often chooses, he wanted to wear his boots that lace.

He sat down and he tied his shoes.

John and I were (and still are) astonished.  He just did it.

And when he did it again in the afternoon after gymnastics, I knew it wasn't a fluke.

So this morning, I took pictures.

He even double knotted. 

Way to go, Cortlan!  How you learned is a mystery to us, but we are proud of you!

Happy St. Patrick's Day - a touch late

A few weeks ago, we were celebrating a milestone birthday of my sister-in-law at a restaurant.  We had a little bit of a wait, so I gave my kids a pen, crayons, and some paper.  This is the masterpiece that Cortlan created.  It wasn't mine to keep, so I took a picture.  I meant to post this on Sunday, but I had other things on my mind, like getting the corned beef in the oven and trying to make it to our high school's production of Footloose on time, so it obviously never happened.

Looking forward to spring

Mommy?  Can I walk her all by my own?

Happy Birthday, Everly

On March 13, 2009, I sat in disbelief, looking at my newborn, wondering how the previous four days had passed in such a blur.  I have a four-day-old baby.  And a two-year-old.

Now, I sit here on March 13, 2013 and wonder, first, how the previous four days have passed in such a blur that I haven't had even ten minutes to sit and write Everly's birthday post.  And second, how the past four years have passed so quickly.  I have a four-year-old.  And a six-year-old.

There is nothing quite the milestones of children to bring you face to face with the reality of passing time.  I am not sure that I am ever going to get used to that.  As trite as it is to say, they grow so quickly.

In my twenties, time seemed to not matter so much for some reason.  The days bled into each other, and so did the months.  Years came and went without much fanfare.  I attended weddings, including my own, saw my friends buy houses, and then us, too.  Life was beginning and it was all ahead of us.  But days were days and months were months and years were years.

Time just seems so different now.  Days can bring tons of new words, new stories.  Or the ability to fix her own hair.  Or the desire to shower herself.  Days can mean more independence, crossing the street by herself, or buckling herself in the car.  Days can bring saying that a once beloved shirt is now "too sparkly."

Weeks bring the ability to do a flip on the bar at gymnastics.  Desire for a new haircut.  Wanting to read me a book.  Weeks can bring an attitude change about school.  New friends.  New interests.

And years.  Years bring me a four-year-old that loves to sing, that loves to draw, and learn, and write, and play with her baby dolls.  A four-year-old that still has just as much attitude as she did when she was months old.  One that still wants new shoes at every turn.  Years have brought me a strong-willed, intelligent little girl full of promise and a desire to please.  (Right, Mommy?)  A girl that strives for independence...until she wants help.  Years have brought me a four-year-old that loves to laugh and to make us laugh, too.  Years have brought me many good night hugs and kisses and "Mommy, will you sleep on me?"'s and "What do you want to dream about?"'s.

It is hard to imagine what the years ahead will bring me.  It is hard to imagine that someday I will have a teenage girl.  And then a girl in her twenties, maybe getting married.  Maybe buying a house.  Maybe having children of her own.

I think I am going to focus on the days.  The days are sweet.

Happy birthday, my baby girl.  Happy birthday, Everly.

A message from Cortlan, made with zero assistance presented to Everly when she woke on Saturday.  "Dear Everly, From Cortlan.  I love you Everly.  Happy Birthday."

Snow Day

It has been over two years since our last snow day.  While we did have a "rain day" in the fall due to Hurricane Sandy and the predicted heavy winds, rain, and power outages that never really came, on that day, John was out of town, my kids still went to school, and I sat in Panera writing letters of recommendation, working on the fall play program, and grading papers.  There was nothing bonus about that day except for the ability to get a decent amount of work done.

But yesterday was a gift.  A true gift.

We went to bed Tuesday night with not a flake of snow in sight.  There was none on the ground, and certainly none in the sky.  The forecasts ranged from 2-4 to 4-6 inches overnight, but with all of the hype and build-up that often leads to nothing but disappointment, I was not expecting much.

My alarm went off at 4:50 am as usual, and instead of immediately hitting the snooze alarm once, I looked out of the window.  What I saw was a winter wonderland.  The moonlight shone on on the snow-covered branches of the trees in my back yard and a thick carpet covered the ground and driveway.  It was beautiful.  And thrilling.

The school had not called a delay or cancellation, but instead of getting in the shower as I normally would, I waited for an anticipated phone call.  It took a long time - so long that if my prediction of at least a two-hour delay wasn't correct, I would be late for work.  But eventually, we got word that there was a delay.  I snuggled back under my blanket for another hour.  When my alarm went off for the second time, I showered and then moved to the kitchen, where John sat enjoying a cup of coffee.  He had prepared a batch of pancakes that sat waiting for the breakfast crowd.  The kids woke, and it was while we were having our yummy, unexpected breakfast that the best news came - school was cancelled.

Because of the way our school district handles weather cancellations, snow days are truly like days added back to our lives.  We have four more days with students scheduled in our year than the required minimum that most schools schedule.  If we have no weather-related cancellations, we teach for those four days.  If we have cancellations, we do not have to make up or reschedule those days.  Some people do not like this method of handling snow days; I love it.  While neighboring schools now have to go to school on Monday after thinking they had that day off, for us, yesterday was a complete bonus day.  We never had Monday off in the first place and we have nothing to make up.

We enjoyed our bonus day.  We played in the snow for almost two hours.  We had hot cocoa.  We played with baby dolls and Legos.  We grew crystals.  We made up stories.  I got some things ready for Everly's birthday party this weekend.  We listened to music.  We took naps.  We sang songs.  We ate Girl Scout cookies (ok, that was mostly me).  We took our time and relaxed.

And in the end, we felt rejuvenated by our bonus day.  Ahhhhhh...  I love snow days.

Surgery is scheduled

I think I have spread the word about this to most people already, but in the interest of keeping up with my record keeping, here is the latest:

One week ago, John and I picked the kids up at school a touch early and we headed to Children's Hospital for Cortlan's follow-up appointment/surgical consult. We had never been there before (fortunately, we have had no need before now), but we had heard that it was pretty fantastic.  The rumors were, for the most part, true.  The check in process was very efficient.  They gave us a buzzer (like you sometimes get at restaurants) so that they could easily notify us when it was our turn to head back to see the doctor.  This was necessary because the waiting room was huge.  There were aquariums, televisions, different stations set up with electronic games and coloring, and there was even a section of docked and secure ipads with apps for the kids to play.  All of this was great - because as we were the last appointment of the day, we ended up waiting for quite a while.

Once were finally called back to see the doctor, we had even more wait time.  Fortunately, my kids like to draw and color, and I had paper and crayons with me.  They drew pictures, we sang songs, and we all started to go a little stir-crazy.  A physicians assistant came in for a check, and then finally we saw the doctor.

The doctor explained to us that Cortlan's sleep study was abnormal.  Specifically, he had an average of 2.7 "episodes" of sleep apnea per hour, which, as far as I can tell, means that his breathing stopped or drastically reduced for some amount of time each episode.  At times, his blood oxygen levels decreased to 86%, when it should be 97-98% for a child his age, as explained to us.  Despite the fact that it initially seems a little scary to think that he is essentially stopping breathing nearly three times per hour, this all puts him in the category of "mild" sleep apnea.  When compared to having episodes every couple of minutes, as some people do, 2.7 per hour does seem mild.  Still, it is more than enough to be considered a problem that needs to be taken care of.

Cortlan will be having surgery on April 23rd.  At that time, he will have both his tonsils and adenoids removed, as well as several other procedures, including a "soft" scope through his nose, a "hard" scope through his mouth that goes deeper and is more investigative than the ones he had in December, and a biopsy.  These things will be done to farther examine the causes of the apnea as well as the narrowing of his trachea that was discovered in December.  He will have the surgery done at Children's Hospital (as opposed to the surgery center) and will stay overnight for observation due to the slightly higher risk of his case.

I know that some of this sounds disconcerting at first, but we are very hopeful and optimistic about the outcome.  We aren't blowing this off, but we also are not making a big deal of it, either.  In fact, one of Cortlan's friends from school is having nearly the same procedure done one week after him - he had the same sleep study done with 2.9 episodes per hour.  The most frustrating part of it all has been the timeline and that we aren't done with this all yet.  But, two months will go quickly, and we are looking forward to having it behind us and for Cortlan to get some much needed relief.