Tuesday, March 4, 2014

On being a boy mom

I love being a boy mom. Don't get me wrong, it's not an easy job, there are days when that little three-year-old isn't getting his way and he is throwing shoes and yelling as loud as he can about how unfair life is because he's just been told that he cannot watch another episode of Rescue Bots. Oh, there are days when I'm practically peeling him off of the ceiling. And boy, can he run fast. When he doesn't want to go home and we are at the park, I practically have to trick him into the car or else the two of us are running faster than a bunch of superheroes-chasing-villains. He can be such a challenge.

I'm guessing the same can be said for three-year-old girls, I'm almost positive three-year-olds are from another planet.

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But at night, after he's been asleep for hours, I sneak into his room to check on him and find him curled up under so many covers and surrounded by an entire truck fleet. There is barely room for him next to that giant firetruck and dump truck and even if there was space, he would roll over on about a dozen Matchbox cars. He's hugging that firetruck, cuddling up to its hard plastic ladder as if it was as soft as a stuffed teddy bear. His hair is most likely a mess from a long day of romping through the house and attempting the backstroke on the living room rug. He's got spaghetti sauce and paint-coated cheeks.

When I see my sweet little boy sleeping like that, surrounded by the elements of his little boy environment, something in me turns sentimental. That's my son. And life is so hard for him right now, he is learning boundaries and discovering that the world isn't always kind. He's trying his best to be a good boy, but sometimes boys don't want to follow the rules, Mama. Especially when they are three.

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He's also showing lots of interest in sports these days and will kick a ball around the house for an hour at a time. He wants to be a soccer/football/baseball/hockey/basketball player when he gets bigger, and a fireman. He doesn't know the meaning of "sit still", nor should he; he is a boy.

You should hear him talk about trucks. "Mama, the truck is hungry. The truck wants to go outside and dig. The garbage truck is such a nice fella. Isn't he so cute, Mama?" When Daddy takes him upstairs to bed he yells, "Goodnight, Mama! Goodnight police car! And bomb squad truck! And bulldozer! And monster truck school bus!" And if you ask him what his baby sister wants for Christmas? He'll tell you that "she wants a truck, too, so that I can play with it."

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He's never met a puddle he doesn't want to jump in, and he's never experienced bath water that isn't begging to be splashed. He doesn't care how cold it is outside, he wants to play in the yard. He wants to climb on the furniture and jump on the bed and lick the window. "It's what boys do," he says, and I know he's right. Boys get dirty and make giant messes and scream as loud as they can for no reason and are gross. If anything, my boy has taught me to live with a bit less restraint, to try new things, to expand my horizons.

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And when I drop him off at preschool in the morning, I watch him walk up those three stairs when the bell rings, his backpack so big against his tiny little boy frame that it looks as if it is swallowing him whole, I feel that same sentimental heart tug that I feel when I see him sleeping at night in all of his boy glory. I keep my fingers crossed that he will be a polite little man for the teachers and that he will be a good friend to--as he calls them--his "kids". And as I watch him go, scraping his sneakers in the pile of sand on the stairs as he makes his way into his big boy classroom, I say to myself, "That's my son."

Monday, March 3, 2014

I will not walk on camera, people

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This little girl is getting such a big personality. She's got her own taste and interests and she lets you know how she feels about everything. She's a huge cuddler, but she is more than happy to play with Dylan for hours without Mom or Dad. And don't even think about walking by her without picking her up if she has her arms outstretched or you will hear the wrath of Katie. She throws mini tantrums by lying as flat as she can face down on the floor. She'll swat you if she doesn't want what you're offering. She's really sweet and silly and fun.

She's taking even more steps today, but of course she won't perform as soon as I turn on the camera. Even so, she is quite entertaining. Here she is making me laugh until I snort:



And when she gets bored of pretending to walk, she inspects the camera:



Dylan is watching Transformers in the background. He loves the RescueBots. I'm so thrilled that he's not watching Caillou or Barney or the Doodle Bops anymore. Transformers are awesome and I can totally watch this show with him and not feel like giving the main character a noogie.

Sunday, March 2, 2014

One step at a time

Maybe I should play the Lottery. I dropped my iPhone in the bathtub yesterday and after I finished panicking and managed to fish it out of the water, I realized that it still worked just fine. The speakers weren't working but that was nothing that couldn't be fixed by wearing headphones. And then this morning I woke up with a fully functional phone. Speakers and all!

What are the odds?

I've been taking way too many baths. Since my father-in-law brought me gourmet soaps and my aunt gave me a heavenly muscle soak, and since I'm already constantly freezing, I take at last four baths a day. Really hot baths.

Since my TSH levels were so damn high as of last Monday, my doctor put me on the fast track to getting them from a 15.34 down to a 2.5 or less by doubling my Armour levels from one grain to two grains. So I've been feeling pretty lousy, as usual, but it's a different lousy. I'm still overly fatigued and pretty much bed(couch)-ridden but now I'm absolutely freezing on top of that. I cannot warm up no matter how many layers I've got on or how many baths I take or how many blankets I'm under. Last night as we watched Dexter on the couch Sean tucked me under my fuzzy bathroom, in a sleeping bag, under a fuzzy blanket, and then he laid his legs on top of mine and I was shaking I was so cold. This will be a huge benefit to me come summertime on those tropical 80° days. I'm constantly on the THYCA forums and "cold" is a pretty common symptom oddly enough so I'll just be glad that it isn't anything worse. Cold, I can handle.

Little Miss Katie Rhea has been trying to walk since yesterday. She's so cautious, unlike her big brother who was plowing through everything at 11 months and climbing up the ladder of our swing set not long after. She has the muscles to walk but not the confidence. You should see how proud she was last night as she kept taking one step and then another step before sitting herself down. Katie does things at Katie's pace.

Here she is taking one small step for mankind, one giant leap for a baby:



Pardon the boys playing football in the background. She's been taking more steps than that but I haven't been able to catch it on video, mostly because I'm busy helping her to not topple over.

Friday, February 28, 2014

Boy, your hair is crazy!

Today is crazy hair day at Dylan's preschool. Dylan picked out green hair dye weeks ago in preparation but last week he changed his mind and begged for purple hair. He also said he wanted to cut some of his hair so I gave him half of a hair cut. He chose which half he wanted cut. And he was proud.

Here's a picture of the back from yesterday. His head is a little purple because he wanted to try the dye, too.

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And here is his photo shoot from this morning. I've never seen this kid so excited to go to school. He had his coat and shoes on forty minutes before the bell rang.

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Of course after all of that hype over purple hair, he only let me put a little bit in this morning and decided that was all he wanted.

So Dylan wears pants with the built-in elastic belt because he's so skinny. He's still a size 12 months in shorts but he is a 3 or 4T length so we have to synch up the belt really tight for his pants to stay on. As we were walking across the parking lot to school this morning, with Dylan carrying his cement mixer stuffed in his giant show and tell brown paper bag, he stops walking and calmly says, "Mom, my pants."

I look down and here is this boy of mine, in 5° weather, with his underpants and pants down at his ankles. The belt had broken and nothing stayed up and so Dylan was just standing there half naked. I don't think anyone noticed and it's not like a bunch of three-year-olds would've cared. I can't stop laughing about it after the fact. He's at school now and I managed to loop his belt on the outside of his pants and through the belt loops so I'm really hoping that his pants are staying up.

But he's so excited about crazy hair day and bringing in his truck to show everyone that I don't even think he'd notice if his pants fell off.

Wednesday, February 26, 2014

So that explains so much

My doctor's office called this morning. Today is my doctor's day off but one of the nurses wanted to give me a heads up on the results of Monday's lab work. Let me try to explain this...

A person with a normal healthy thyroid should have a TSH or thyroid stimulating hormone level of 0.5 - 5.0. Anything over a 5 would mean that the person is hypothyroid, meaning having an underactive thyroid gland.

A person with a history of papillary thyroid carcinoma should have a lower level--from 0.1 - 2.5--of TSH to keep thyroid tissue growth down so the leftover cancer cells are not tempted to spread.

And my TSH levels as of Monday were at 15.34! Three times the healthy level for a normal thyroid. This means that I am extremely hypothyroid--or lacking in thyroid hormone.

So that looks a little like this:

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I'm severely hypothyroid, which would explain my constant exhaustion. There are a ton of symptoms for hypothyroidism--here are 300 of those symptoms--but my biggest is fatigue.

I'm glad to know the reason why I've been feeling just so awful as of late, my body has felt as if it was dying. But it all makes sense now, I'm starving for thyroid hormone. Hopefully when the doctor calls tomorrow he'll know how much extra medicine I will need to lower these abnormal values.

In the meantime, it's a great day to snuggle on the couch with the kids. We bought Frozen on Amazon Prime and are on our second viewing. There is nothing more healing than cuddling two sweet little ones in my arms for hours.