Recovery Ward

Well, now that it's all said and done, I think my little Kenna is on the mend. The best part about it? IT'S OVER! Well, mostly. At least as we speak she and her sister are in the other room playing happily together. Just in case you're completely lost here, my Kenna had her tonsils out on Thursday. Here's how it went: (forgive me, gets pretty wordy, but this is for memory's sake)

We showed up to the hospital on a very cold and snowy Thursday morning at 7 am. Thanks to some good neighbors, Allie stayed behind. We had prepped Kenna as much as we could the night before so she would know what to expect the next day and there wouldn't be too many surprises. In fact, the day before we went shopping for popsicles and ice cream, and when we got home from that there was a package waiting for her from Aunt Connie. It was complete with Snow White (the movie of her choosing) to watch during her recovery, coloring books and crayons (a very smart Aunt who knew Allie would need a little TLC too), and some chocolate for mom and dad (oh Aunt Connie you divine soul, you). After all that spoilage, Kenna jumped in the air and said, "I can't wait to get my tonsils out!" A little concerned I said, "Kenna love, you know that your throat is really going to hurt for a little bit, right?" Her reply: "Ya, ya, I know." As if to say, "whatever mom, Snow White solves all the worlds problems, what do you know?" Um, okay.

SO, anyway. Here we are getting ready for the big event. Aaah, she looks so sweet. She was such a big girl and just rolled with the punches. The funny thing, as we look at these pictures, she doesn't remember any of it!


Getting some loves from a nervous daddy. I admit, I was pretty nervous myself. Fortunately not quite as nervous as I had been earlier in the week. After talking with the pre-op nurse the day before and then seeing the wonderful staff at the hospital, it really put me at ease. The anesthesiologist came in to talk to Kenna a bit before the surgery and he was so darn cute with her! I was so impressed. He sure made me feel a lot better, too.


This was probably the worst of it: seeing my little 4-year-old head down the hallway without me. I gave her a big hug and kiss and off she rolled like a little champ. I actually did a bit better than I thought I would. Of course I had a few tears when she left, but I did good. Jacob holds his emotions much better than I, but he was sure a nervous dad!


So, there we were, sitting back in the little starter room waiting for her to come back to us. She left us at 8:00, and by 8:25 she was back in the room with us. It was pretty slick. For some reason, though, I thought that my sweet little girl would come back and still be half asleep and really drowsy. Well, as the door opened and they wheeled her bed back into us, she pushed herself up in the bed and almost immediately started yelling. Huh? I guess her voice box was still in tact. So I rushed over to help wheel her in and I saw immediately I did not have a docile little angel. This girl was on the fight! It took me by surprise, and it was the craziest emotion- all at once I felt bad for my poor little Kenna who seemed to be bewildered wondering what in the world was going on, yet at the same time she was kicking and screaming at me. The anesthesia made her poor little face and nose itch, and she kept scratching so it was bright red. Then she got mad at the IV that was in her hand and kept trying to pull it out. She did manage to rip the heart and oxygen monitor off her toe. In our effort to keep her calm all she would do was yell at us and kick and push us away. I didn't know what to do! I've never seen her like that. I think the worst of it was because I didn't at all expect it. I was expecting the exact opposite, actually. It really scared me for a bit, because absolutely nothing we did would help calm her down. I felt so helpless. And to top it all off I couldn't help myself from crying. Stupid hormones! NO! Now is not the time for me to be fighting tears! Keep it together mom! Fortunately we got her to realize she couldn't pull the IV out and we just had to sit there and watch her cry and yell for a bit until she could calm herself down. Jacob and I just kind of sat there looking at each other in complete bewilderment. Anesthesia and Kenna do NOT mix, we have learned. It took a good hour for her to calm down enough to where she stopped crying and would lay down for a bit and get distracted by the Disney Channel. Then the struggle was trying to get her to take a drink so they would take out her IV. Well, that didn't happen, so then the trick was to try to get her to take a drink so they could just make sure she could keep it down and then they would release her. She put on the brakes. We tried absolutely everything we could think of. They brought in a popsicle. Well, that made her mad because she wanted to have a popsicle at home and refused to even look at the dang thing. Then she frowned at the apple juice. Pushed away the Sprite (still not sure why the nurse chose that, that seems like it would burn going down). FINALLY she took a few little sips of water and we were on our way home. She walked herself out of the hospital and did a good job on the way home.

When we got home, the mail lady delivered two packages: one from each Grandma. We love Grandmas! Thanks for being so thoughtful! Here they are later that afternoon playing with the playdough Grandma Marsha sent. It was perfect, thanks Grandma!

Kenna even asked for a peanut butter and jelly sandwich that afternoon, but we convinced her for some really soft noodles instead. The rest of the afternoon after the surgery went well. The worst was into the evening and the next day. She was miserable and did not want to eat or drink anything. Knowing that would make it even worse, we had to fight and fight to get her drink and take her medicine. Finally the ultimatum of having to go back into the hospital and get poked in the hand to get another IV if she didn't drink helped give her the motivation she needed to be brave. She has learned that the first few swallows are the worst, but it makes it so much better when she gets it going. Thank goodness that was the hardest day, and each day after gets better and better. Except for the whining. It's really bad. Maybe the Doc can prescribe some meds for that? I'm afraid that will be the worst lingering side effect of this whole thing. We'll start cracking down on that one.

Overall, she is my little trooper and hopefully within a week it will all be a memory. The best part of it? It's over. I have the teeniest tiniest little glimpse of what it must be like for parents who are constantly in and out of hospitals with children who have a chronic illness. My heart aches for them.

Now I guess we'll just deal with the little fever and cough Allie seems to be battling. Sigh. This too shall pass!

RIDICULOSITIES

The other day I sent my husband a little email at work telling him how grateful I am that he has been putting up with me lately. There are a few things about being pregnant that are, well, just plain ridiculous. And since along with being pregnant my brain capacity and recall is in sharp decline, I told my dear husband thanks for putting up with my "ridiculosities." New word. Take it or leave it Webster. Let me illustrate "ridiculosities."

So the other day one of our goats had 3 little babies. Just like she did last year. One was a bit smaller than the others and really weak. Just like there was last year. Here we go again. Since my dutiful husband works during the day, I was sent over to the farm to see if I could get the little runt to latch on and start getting some milk from her mama. Fortunately, I was able to get the mama goat tied up. Unfortunately, I couldn't get her to stand still. No really, just go ahead and get a good visual here. Here I am, trying to hold the mama goat in a corner with my leg wedged in her shoulder. Then with my right hand I grab the wobbly little baby and try to get her to suck, using my left hand to hold on to the mama goat's collar so I don't get repeated blows up the rear from her horns while she is struggling to get free. Obviously mother nature is not on my side here.

Let's break it down.

First and foremost, I'm pregnant. And here in this situation is a cute little brand new baby goat who can hardly stand up who just really needs to drink from her mom. I can still feel all those great pregnancy hormones kicking in here. So what do I do? Well, I give my husband a call of course. And then what do I do? I cry. Yes, I cry. Cry because I can't get the goat to hold still so her poor little baby can drink. Ridiculous. Very ridiculous. The worst part is that despite me knowing it is absolutely ridiculous, I can't help but cry. Jacob was so kind to just let me cry, even though I could sense on the other end of the line he was sitting there in his office at work thinking to himself, "Are you seriously crying? That's ridiculous." Of course being the smart man that he is he would never actually vocalize that thought. It's best that he just kept it to himself. Bless his heart.

If only that could be enough for one good man to deal with in a day. I just had one more little request.

Grapefruit juice.

Aaah, yes. My mouth waters as I think of it. With a little salt. I don't really recall cravings with my first two pregnancies, but my oh my does grapefruit juice ever taste good. The other day I was perusing the produce section of our local Associated Foods store and came across those beautiful yellow and pink fleshed beauties and my mouth began to water. Oh they were divine. So then I decided to juice a few of them. It was sheer heaven. My husband sat on the couch with his root beer float and I sat next to him savoring every last drop of my grapefruit juice. I could read his mind: "that is ridiculous." So, in the next email I sent to him I casually requested he stop off at the grocery store on the way home from work and grab me a jug of the good stuff. I got a call around 5 o'clock as my dear husband is reading me the ingredient labels on half a dozen different juices to find me just the right one. As quoted in The Princess Bride, that is "Wuv. Twue Wuv." But honestly, grapefruit juice? Ridiculous.

Miss Independent

That there my friends is what I quite often find when I review the pictures on my camera. It's obvious a devious little four-year-old has gotten hold of the camera and taken pictures of herself. The lens covering sticks and only opens part way unless I stick my finger in there to open it all the way, so that is why we only see half of the suspects face.

My little Kenna. Full of so many things: life, mischief, love, spunk, imagination, and at the heart of it all is just oozing with all the sweetness a 4-year-old can hold.

Lately, however, Kenna has been showing her independent side. I'll illustrate:

Whenever she goes to the bathroom in a restaurant or store, she insists on going by herself, to the point that mom has to stay outside of the bathroom. Her favorite, however is to walk herself to the bathroom during Sacrament meeting, and then when the meeting is over, she loves to head off out of the Chapel alone to walk herself to Primary. The past few weeks, she loves to go pick up Allie from Nursery and makes sure that mom is far down the hallway to ensure there will be no motherly assistance and that she, most definitely, can do it by herself.

It gets better.

A few weeks ago on the first Sunday of the month, (after Kenna had gone to the bathroom by herself during Sacrament meeting, of course), I escorted Allie to the bathroom. When I got back, Jacob leaned over and whispered that Kenna had gone up to bear her testimony. Insert here pure astonishment on my part. WHAT? Upon investigation, here is what I learned: My little independent spirit kept insisting she go up to bear her testimony, so daddy let her have a go of it. Lesson A: Daddy's can't say no. He then asked her if she wanted help or if she wanted to go by herself. Surprise surprise, she wanted to go by herself. Lesson B: Daddy's and Mommy's handle some situations much differently. So up my little lady goes and steps right up to the microphone. Upon reaching the microphone, however, she just sat there silent. Apparently all eyes are on Jacob waiting for the next move, and just when he gets up to save the day, another lady in the ward who was up on the stand jumped in to help her out. Thank heavens for mother's intuition! The problem here? It wasn't her OWN MOTHER. Anyone else sense the what-the-heck-just-happened feeling? My first born gives her first ever testimony in Sacrament meeting and A) I wasn't there to hear it, and B) I wasn't even there to help her! It was at least the few rows surrounding us who heard me scold Jacob when all I could say was, "YOU COULDN'T WAIT!?" Not to mention that almost all eyes were on me already to see my reaction when I found out. The only redemption Jacob had from his wife was to march himself up to the podium and bear his testimony. Fortunately he chose wisely. All in all, I guess it's a good thing mom's and dad's are different. In the end, I was so proud of my little Kenna and gave her a big hug to let her know. Needless to say, we had a family home evening on testimonies and we each took turns practicing our testimonies. Next time we'll be better prepared! Kenna even went and got her play microphone and we each talked into the mic. Allie of course was down the hallway screaming. Dad put on her jammies instead of mom, and she definitely did not have a testimony of that. Sigh. We're working on that.

Now my little independent Kenna is going to have her tonsils out a week from Thursday. The anxiety is building. MY anxiety. I can let her go to the bathroom by herself, but I just don't think I can send her alone into surgery. Everytime I think about it I get a little lump in my throat! I guess this is another one of those steps in parenthood we eventually have to take. We'll keep you updated.

The Overdue Christmas Post

Well, I've done it again. I've managed to wait too long to update the blog and now I have too much stuff to write about and just don't know where to start. You'd think I'd learn by now.

How about we start with Christmas?

This is the first year we've had a little one who is old enough to get the whole Christmas thing, and it has been so fun to relive the magic that comes during Christmas when you're a child. Kenna was so excited on Christmas Eve, she laid in bed for 2 hours and couldn't fall asleep until Jacob and I came back to bed. She got up at 7:30 Christmas morning (much earlier than usual) and the first thing she said was, "Did Santa come?" As she and Allie went in and discovered that Santa had indeed come, the look in their eyes and their little excited bodies were priceless. In all honesty, Santa could have skipped over our house and the girls would have never known any different, thanks to the spoilage we got from our families. Between the Otte's and the Israelsen's, we were well stocked for Christmas! Between it all, the girls had a blast and spent the rest of the day playing with all their new Christmas stuff in their princess dresses from Aunt Steph.

Love new Christmas Jams!



Alright mom, enough of this picture stuff- just let us tear into it all!



Oooh, what's next?



No princess is complete without her cowgirl boots.



And of course every princess needs a good castle with a tunnel to play in. And then every princess must beg her mom and dad to let her sleep in her castle every night. And then when she realizes dad has placed her back in her bed at some point during the night she must make sure dad knows that was REALLY not a good thing for him to do and under no circumstances is he to do it again.



New Year's Eve just kind of comes and goes, but we did try to get out and enjoy the holiday weekend. Jacob and I were going to get a babysitter and go to the movie, but decided we'd all just go on a family date instead. We took the girls to see the new Chipmunk movie. They lost interest towards the end, but were happy as can be to come on a date with mom and dad and drown themselves in popcorn. Later that weekend, we headed down just outside of St. George to Red Cliffs to do some hiking. We have to head down South every now and then where it's substantially warmer- if anything just to remind us that living 5 hours away from home can sort of be a good thing especially when the majority of our family has been stuck in an eternal inversion.


On the way down, I overheard Kenna telling Allie she wanted to hold her hand just like mom and dad are because they love each other just like mom and dad do. Insert here a big smile with a feeling only a mom can really understand. Thank goodness for those little moments to know you do SOMETHING right. :) And really, you can't look at Allie's cheese without getting a little cheese of your own.



Every serious hiker needs a good stick.



Dad just kept taking them higher and higher up the cliffs as mom remained fixed on a more sensible level. I felt myself getting closer and closer to throwing up as I watched them climb. Jacob wondered where my sense of adventure was, and I wondered where his just plain sense was. Boys will ALWAYS be boys. Moms will always keep us grounded. Literally and figuratively.



Before the snow completely melts we better make the best of it. We hooked the sled up to the Ranger and took the girls for a ride. Based on the giggles and smiles, I think they loved it!




So there it is. Another blog that is too long because I waited and waited to update. Sigh. What am I? Pregnant or something? That is a definite YES. Just ask dad and the girls who are really wanting their regular mom back. They will concur. Aaah, wanting to be normal again. Now that's something to give you a good chuckle.