Today the boys were given a grave and all-important life lesson by their elder cousin: how to make it look like you're picking your nose. I'm relieved to know that even though it's summer break, they're still getting an education.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Monday, May 23, 2011
Parents of the Year
Saturday night Caulder climbed all the way to the top of my parents' pantry... and then his hands slipped. I looked over just as fell backwards. His feet caught in the stepladder he was supposed to be standing on on the way down, so he fell head first and landed right on his arm on the tile floor.
I screamed. He cried for a minute, maybe. Then he just got cold and clammy and didn't want us to move him. After about 10 minutes he finally let us pick him up and carry him out to the car. He wasn't crying at all, and he said he just wanted to go to bed, so we didn't worry too much.
It was still hurting him Sunday, but only when he moved. Otherwise he seemed just fine. We thought about taking him to the doctor, but figured he would have cried more when it happened, and that it would be hurting him ALL the time, not just when he moved, if it was anything serious.
By Monday morning it hadn't gotten any better, and it was really killing him whenever he had to move, so we finally decided to take him in. We figured it was a really bad bruise, or maybe a dislocation.
Caulder talked a blue streak during the entire appointment. He seemed so happy even the doc didn't think it was broken, but he decided to X-ray it, just in case.
It looked like this. 
Yep. He busted his humerus bone right in half. Two days later we finally got around to taking him to the doctor. We're expecting the Parents of the Year prize committee to show up on our doorstep at any moment.
I screamed. He cried for a minute, maybe. Then he just got cold and clammy and didn't want us to move him. After about 10 minutes he finally let us pick him up and carry him out to the car. He wasn't crying at all, and he said he just wanted to go to bed, so we didn't worry too much.
It was still hurting him Sunday, but only when he moved. Otherwise he seemed just fine. We thought about taking him to the doctor, but figured he would have cried more when it happened, and that it would be hurting him ALL the time, not just when he moved, if it was anything serious.
By Monday morning it hadn't gotten any better, and it was really killing him whenever he had to move, so we finally decided to take him in. We figured it was a really bad bruise, or maybe a dislocation.
Caulder talked a blue streak during the entire appointment. He seemed so happy even the doc didn't think it was broken, but he decided to X-ray it, just in case.
It looked like this. 
Yep. He busted his humerus bone right in half. Two days later we finally got around to taking him to the doctor. We're expecting the Parents of the Year prize committee to show up on our doorstep at any moment.It's a good thing we have tough kids.
Now please excuse me. I have an acceptance speech to write.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
The Diagnosis
Tukker had his giant preemie follow up clinic appointment a couple of weeks ago, the one that lasts four hours and involves seeing 5 or 6 different specialists who are all crammed in one building for the event. It is a thing to be dreaded, and not just because it gives me 4 hours of trying to keep the Tukk occupied and fed (do you have any idea how much food I have to pack to keep bottomless pit child from starving to death for a 4-hour span? I contemplated packing a wagon full of fruit snacks). Mostly I dread it because every time we've been the docs have had some new "concerns" for us to flip out about.
The last time he had one of these clinic days was a year ago, and we had both the pediatrician and the physical therapist tell us they were convinced that his hip was back out of the socket, and that was why he wasn't walking yet, even though he was almost 2. While the thought of another hip surgery and 3 months in a body cast was sufficiently horrifying to give me instant diarrhea (TMI?), their worries that if it wasn't the hip we'd have to start thinking about possible neurological damage was an even more terrifying thought.
Still, Tukker's been doing so well that I wasn't too nervous about this appointment. I didn't even pack a bottle of Pepto in my purse.
The first person we met with was a new pediatrician, who started telling me we should be concerned about his head shape and asked if he'd ever had an MRI and bla bla bla. I began to twitch just a little bit and fantasize about punching her in the throat (bless her heart). Then I told her we'd already had an MRI AND head ultrasound and both had yielded normal results. And we'd already met with a plastic surgeon numerous times to discuss his poor flat head (compliments of the fact that he had chest tubes as a newbie & couldn't be positioned off the back of his head), and the plastic surgeon thought it was correcting itself well enough on its own. Also, the good Lord blessed him with a thick head of crazy curly hair, so it's barely noticeable unless you're really looking, and we weren't concerned about it, thank you very much.
Ummm... I should probably mention at this point that I'm getting a little tired of being needlessly freaked out by doctors. It makes me grouchy.
Anyway, after hearing about ALL the specialists we'd already seen and all the tests Tukk had already had (and probably sensing that I was on the verge of some serious Chuck Norris roundhouse kick to the face action), she told me she was sure he was just fine and sent me on my way.
Then we met with the eye doc, who said Tukk's eyes look perfect. He said you'd never be able to tell he was a preemie or had had ROP (retinopathy of prematurity) based on his eyes. Awesomeness.
We also met with the psychologist, who tests these kiddos for cognitive development. Last year he said Tukker was almost a year behind cognitively. Barftastic. This year he said that while Tukk has a hard time focusing (he got bored with the puzzle games and kept trying to climb into the sink and turn it on), once you could get him to focus he did just fine. He said he was amazed by how far Tukker had come in the last year. And when he rated his development... drum roll please... HE SAID TUKK IS ON TRACK COGNITIVELY. I will go ahead and pause while you take some time to celebrate. You better be fistpumping right now.
We celebrated with a giant Oreo cupcake from The Sweet Tooth Fairy. Tukk was so tired after his 4-hour appointment he feel asleep after the first bite. That is some serious exhaustion.
Throughout the past (almost) 3 years we've been asked a billion times by docs and other parents of special needs kids what Tukker's diagnosis is. Does he have cerebral palsy or other brain damage? Does he have a genetic condition? Is he part elf ?(Although we haven't done any official bloodwork, based on his size and ability to consume mass quantities of sugar, we believe the answer to that one is yes.) We have been very lucky to escape some of those difficult problems, and now we feel like Tukk's only official diagnosis is Rock Star. Of the most awesome kind. We have truly been blessed with miracles with this boy. We're so grateful.
The last time he had one of these clinic days was a year ago, and we had both the pediatrician and the physical therapist tell us they were convinced that his hip was back out of the socket, and that was why he wasn't walking yet, even though he was almost 2. While the thought of another hip surgery and 3 months in a body cast was sufficiently horrifying to give me instant diarrhea (TMI?), their worries that if it wasn't the hip we'd have to start thinking about possible neurological damage was an even more terrifying thought.
Still, Tukker's been doing so well that I wasn't too nervous about this appointment. I didn't even pack a bottle of Pepto in my purse.
The first person we met with was a new pediatrician, who started telling me we should be concerned about his head shape and asked if he'd ever had an MRI and bla bla bla. I began to twitch just a little bit and fantasize about punching her in the throat (bless her heart). Then I told her we'd already had an MRI AND head ultrasound and both had yielded normal results. And we'd already met with a plastic surgeon numerous times to discuss his poor flat head (compliments of the fact that he had chest tubes as a newbie & couldn't be positioned off the back of his head), and the plastic surgeon thought it was correcting itself well enough on its own. Also, the good Lord blessed him with a thick head of crazy curly hair, so it's barely noticeable unless you're really looking, and we weren't concerned about it, thank you very much.
Ummm... I should probably mention at this point that I'm getting a little tired of being needlessly freaked out by doctors. It makes me grouchy.
Anyway, after hearing about ALL the specialists we'd already seen and all the tests Tukk had already had (and probably sensing that I was on the verge of some serious Chuck Norris roundhouse kick to the face action), she told me she was sure he was just fine and sent me on my way.
Then we met with the eye doc, who said Tukk's eyes look perfect. He said you'd never be able to tell he was a preemie or had had ROP (retinopathy of prematurity) based on his eyes. Awesomeness.
We also met with the psychologist, who tests these kiddos for cognitive development. Last year he said Tukker was almost a year behind cognitively. Barftastic. This year he said that while Tukk has a hard time focusing (he got bored with the puzzle games and kept trying to climb into the sink and turn it on), once you could get him to focus he did just fine. He said he was amazed by how far Tukker had come in the last year. And when he rated his development... drum roll please... HE SAID TUKK IS ON TRACK COGNITIVELY. I will go ahead and pause while you take some time to celebrate. You better be fistpumping right now.
We celebrated with a giant Oreo cupcake from The Sweet Tooth Fairy. Tukk was so tired after his 4-hour appointment he feel asleep after the first bite. That is some serious exhaustion.
Throughout the past (almost) 3 years we've been asked a billion times by docs and other parents of special needs kids what Tukker's diagnosis is. Does he have cerebral palsy or other brain damage? Does he have a genetic condition? Is he part elf ?(Although we haven't done any official bloodwork, based on his size and ability to consume mass quantities of sugar, we believe the answer to that one is yes.) We have been very lucky to escape some of those difficult problems, and now we feel like Tukk's only official diagnosis is Rock Star. Of the most awesome kind. We have truly been blessed with miracles with this boy. We're so grateful.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
Questions
How did evil Bat lady manage to nab half a stick of string cheese and carry it from the kitchen into Caulder's room? And what diabolical scheme did she have planned that required stick-shaped dairy? 
Why do I find rocks in the washing machine and sticks in the shoe bin and buckets filled with dirt and grass on the kitchen table?
Will I someday miss those nights when Tukker can't fall asleep because he needs to poop and Caulder can't fall asleep because his bum itches and he needs me to rub lotion on it?
One afternoon when Caulder had just gotten out of the tub and still wasn't dressed, why did he sprint out of the room when my mom stopped by, just to return a few minutes later not with his clothes on, but holding a plastic knight's shield over his privates? And why did he then lift the shield and flash her, then laugh hysterically?
How is it that I've managed to instill the importance of proper table manners in my boys at such a young age?
Why does Tukker insist on sleeping like this? Does he just miss that good old oxygen-deprived feeling?
Did I really take my boys to the mall looking like this? Really?
Why is it that every time we feed Tukker, we end up with a scene like this?
Will my house ever have a surface - ANY surface - that isn't completely covered in Legos?
How can these two play with those Legos for hours on end without getting cramps in their hands or having their fingers bleed?
Just what sort of a date was he planning in this outfit?
How is it that Caulder thinks filling the sink until it nearly overflows and then chucking a few cups in actually counts as doing the dishes and deserves an allowance?
Does Tukk really believe that using the toilet brush to "clean" the tub is super helpful, or is he just trying to make me gag?
Why do I find banana peels stuffed in my flower pots and half rotted banana chunks hidden behind the downstairs TV and bowls of nasty sliced bananas on my counter? 
Why do I keep buying bananas?
Why do I find rocks in the washing machine and sticks in the shoe bin and buckets filled with dirt and grass on the kitchen table?
Will I someday miss those nights when Tukker can't fall asleep because he needs to poop and Caulder can't fall asleep because his bum itches and he needs me to rub lotion on it?
One afternoon when Caulder had just gotten out of the tub and still wasn't dressed, why did he sprint out of the room when my mom stopped by, just to return a few minutes later not with his clothes on, but holding a plastic knight's shield over his privates? And why did he then lift the shield and flash her, then laugh hysterically?
How is it that I've managed to instill the importance of proper table manners in my boys at such a young age?
Why does Tukker insist on sleeping like this? Does he just miss that good old oxygen-deprived feeling?
Did I really take my boys to the mall looking like this? Really?Why is it that every time we feed Tukker, we end up with a scene like this?Will my house ever have a surface - ANY surface - that isn't completely covered in Legos?How can these two play with those Legos for hours on end without getting cramps in their hands or having their fingers bleed?Just what sort of a date was he planning in this outfit?How is it that Caulder thinks filling the sink until it nearly overflows and then chucking a few cups in actually counts as doing the dishes and deserves an allowance?Does Tukk really believe that using the toilet brush to "clean" the tub is super helpful, or is he just trying to make me gag?Why do I find banana peels stuffed in my flower pots and half rotted banana chunks hidden behind the downstairs TV and bowls of nasty sliced bananas on my counter? 
Why do I keep buying bananas?Perhaps we'll never know...
Sunday, May 1, 2011
Fire Trucks, Rabbit Droppings, Culture & Baby Stomping
A few weeks ago we got to go with Caulder's preschool class on a field trip to the local safety building.
The fire truck was the highlight, of course. Tukk was trying to shove the preschool kids out of the way to make sure he got a turn to climb in.
Then we took the boys to the Carl Bloch "The Master's Hands" exhibit at BYU's Museum of Art. We made it a whole 20 minutes before they were done. I think we'd been in there about 3 minutes when Tukker started saying, "I nee eat. I nee fewt snacks." After I'd told him he couldn't eat in the museum for the 15th time he started asking for Kenny (his blanket) & Cow (his bff). Apparently when you can't have food you need your buddies to get you through the hard times. Caulder actually seemed pretty interested in a lot of the paintings, which are amazing. It's just a little hard to concentrate on them when there's a miniature 2 year old begging for food the entire time. So after we sprinted through the exhibit we let the boys play in one of the gardens outside. Tukk was much more excited about finding a new rock than seeing paintings of his Savior. Heathen. 
Getting a little refinement and culture in your otherwise redneck life is exhausting.
The fire truck was the highlight, of course. Tukk was trying to shove the preschool kids out of the way to make sure he got a turn to climb in.
Then we took the boys to the Carl Bloch "The Master's Hands" exhibit at BYU's Museum of Art. We made it a whole 20 minutes before they were done. I think we'd been in there about 3 minutes when Tukker started saying, "I nee eat. I nee fewt snacks." After I'd told him he couldn't eat in the museum for the 15th time he started asking for Kenny (his blanket) & Cow (his bff). Apparently when you can't have food you need your buddies to get you through the hard times. Caulder actually seemed pretty interested in a lot of the paintings, which are amazing. It's just a little hard to concentrate on them when there's a miniature 2 year old begging for food the entire time. So after we sprinted through the exhibit we let the boys play in one of the gardens outside. Tukk was much more excited about finding a new rock than seeing paintings of his Savior. Heathen. Getting a little refinement and culture in your otherwise redneck life is exhausting.Awwwww... he looks just like his momma.
We're still suffering from sugar overload from Easter weekend. Caulder went to 4 egg hunts, including the Bott hunt on Saturday. (Tukk was sick Saturday, so he and I stayed home. He mostly slept. I washed vomit-covered bedding and caught up on episodes of Chuck, which made it totally worth having to clean up vomit-covered bedding.)
Luckily Tukker felt better on Sunday, so he didn't miss out on any Easter bunny action. His young, sugar-craving brain could hardly comprehend the mystery and awesometasticness (that's totally a word) of waking up to find your yard littered with candy. Best holiday ever. At one point he said, "I wub canny!" And that night when he said his prayers he said, "Bess Easer bunny, canny outside." If that doesn't show gratitude I don't know what does. 
The Easter Bunny also left mounds of marshmallow and jelly bean droppings at Grandma Sarah's and a bag of treats AND dollar bills (Caulder was so excited - the dude loves paper money) at Grandma Kathy's.
Check out Caulder's "I'm so excited, I can't wait to go into a sugar coma" face. Love it.
At Yaya's the Easter Bunny made them work for their loot. He left a treasure hunt involving lots of clues about poop and Keeks, Rylee's fat & lazy cat, who apparently tried to eat our hopping friend... even though she hasn't left her heating-pad warmed bed in years. Caulder thought it was hilarious. Poop jokes of any kind are always a big hit with my boys, and when you combine poop with candy, fat cats, and buried treasure (yes, we actually had to dig up a trunk of booty at the end)... pure magic. 
And yesterday we had our annual March for Babies walk. My mom kept calling it the baby stomp. Please bless the March of Dimes never asks her to do their publicity work.
The Easter Bunny also left mounds of marshmallow and jelly bean droppings at Grandma Sarah's and a bag of treats AND dollar bills (Caulder was so excited - the dude loves paper money) at Grandma Kathy's.Check out Caulder's "I'm so excited, I can't wait to go into a sugar coma" face. Love it.At Yaya's the Easter Bunny made them work for their loot. He left a treasure hunt involving lots of clues about poop and Keeks, Rylee's fat & lazy cat, who apparently tried to eat our hopping friend... even though she hasn't left her heating-pad warmed bed in years. Caulder thought it was hilarious. Poop jokes of any kind are always a big hit with my boys, and when you combine poop with candy, fat cats, and buried treasure (yes, we actually had to dig up a trunk of booty at the end)... pure magic. 
And yesterday we had our annual March for Babies walk. My mom kept calling it the baby stomp. Please bless the March of Dimes never asks her to do their publicity work. It was cold and snowy (because it was April 30 in Utah, and that's how we roll), but we still had a lot of brave souls show up to rock our team sweatbands and support Team Tukk.
Our sign for ambassador alley:
The lone walker of the apocalypse.
The big man of the hour going incognito.
My future daughter-in-law:
And even though it was freezing, we still had to take time after the walk to play on the playground and make snow angels.
Our sign for ambassador alley:The lone walker of the apocalypse.
The big man of the hour going incognito.My future daughter-in-law:
And even though it was freezing, we still had to take time after the walk to play on the playground and make snow angels.
Thanks so much to all of you who came to walk with us and who donated money. Supporting the March for Babies (or the baby stomp, whichever you prefer) is one way for us to give back a little bit to show our gratitude for all the blessings we received with the Tukk, and we really, really appreciate all of you for supporting us through all of this.
THANK YOU!
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