Overheard

I used this bib to protect Maria's clothing while I give her Colic Calm. It's messy. Morgan, 8, looked at it and said, "Mom, does that say 'Spoil Me' so you know you can ruin it [spoil it] by staining it with medicine?"

Overheard

Last week, Isaiah, 3, climbed into his car seat, sat down, and looked at me. He said, "I sit like Darth Vader."

Overheard

I spilled a Papa John's Garlic Butter sauce on the coffee table. I quickly wiped as much as I could onto my hands and got up quickly to wash my hands in the kitchen and grab a paper towel. While walking, it began to drip and I said, "Shoot!" Noah, 5, said, "Whatsa matter?" I replied, "I've got a big mess." He looked at my hands, looked up at me, and said, "What? Did Maria poop on your hands?"

First Holy Communion

Jesus said to them: I am the living bread which came down from Heaven. If any man eats of this bread, he shall live forever. The bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world.

Milk-a-Colic

Well it sounded funny in my somewhat sleep deprived state of mind this morning, people.

On the Discovery Channel yesterday, a colicky infant was defined as, "an otherwise healthy baby who cries for more than three hours a day."

Oh. Is that all? We moms who have or have had colicky infants know that three hours a day feels more like TWENTY THREE hours a day. It's not the standard hungry/wet diaper/bored cry of an infant, it's the screaming, shrieking cry of someone who's in excruciating pain. Very few things help, if anything at all. It's difficult to enjoy a crying screaming baby. It's difficult to be the mother of a crying screaming baby. A mother is supposed to be able to calm her baby down. It always made me feel useless and hopeless when my baby would scream and I couldn't help.

A colicky baby does not only affect its parents; it affects the whole family. It's almost impossible to take a colicky baby anywhere for fear of a crying episode. Therefore, the whole family stays home or separates for errands or activities. Tending a colicky baby wore me out and left me with little energy for my other wonderful children. A screaming, inconsolable baby creates quite a bit of tension in the house.

When I was 15, my parents brought home a set of twins--one boy and one girl--who were both colicky. I recognized the problem with Morgan. I had seen enough newborns to know that the way she was crying was not normal. She was colicky. Madeleine and Noah were both happy, normal babies. They just sat in their little seats and looked around and smiled all day. Then came Isaiah, the next colicky baby. If he was awake--and he only slept 45 minutes at a time--he was screaming. I thought I'd done my time until Maria arrived. She was happy in the hospital and still easy when I brought her home but over the last month, she's turned into what I originally called a fussy baby. Now that I know the definition (thanks, Discovery), I'd say she's definitely colicky. *sigh*

Aside: I think I almost cried when my sister-in-law observed her fussing a little and said, "oh, I love those little mewing cries, like a kitten!" I remember sitting there staring at her in a stupor and not knowing what to say. Her kids cried like kittens? My kids shrieked like banshees! I thought to myself: Just wait until Maria gets started ... she'll show you what crying is!

So, unwilling to suffer through the next month or six months or eleven months of screaming, crying, and overall agony, I started looking into funky things to try for gas (Maria's main problem) and colic. She doesn't digest well and I'm unwilling to alter my diet, which is already low in dairy products and doesn't include much of any gas-producing vegetable or meat. Gas drops--Mylicon, otherwise known as simethicone--do not appear to help her.

I read about gripe water and other remedies. I settled on Colic Calm. She had her first doses on Saturday and it seems to be helping. It's almost like having a different baby! She has smiled at people other than me, she is cooing more, and will be awake without crying. She also nurses without writhing in pain (she swallows a lot of air) and when I put her upright on my shoulder to burp her, the air comes up immediately. I used to have to work her over for 15 minutes to get her to burp. At night, she wakes only to eat and then goes back to sleep. Previously, she would wake three or four times but eat only once. The other times, she was screaming and writhing in pain from gas (loud enough to wake the other kids). The one evening she went without a dose, I had my old colicky baby back. So rather than wait for a colicky episode, as the package suggests, I give her three doses per day: morning, noon, and night. It is messy (black) but tastes fine and she doesn't seem to mind taking it; I use a pacifier to help her swallow.It is Wednesday afternoon and I am now ready to sing its praises! Maria still fusses sometimes, but no more than a normal baby would. When she does fuss, it's because she's hungry or tired, not because she's in pain. She smiles at me, engages me and her siblings and father, and coos, all while sitting in her car seat or still swing. This is unbelievable! (A couple of other moms said that it didn't help their babies. I'm sure that not every parent will get these results.)I look at her now and see Maria, not a screaming, demanding, miserable baby who is wearing me out. This is going to be fun! Do you have a story to share?

Baby Fix, Anyone?

Who Ordered ...

... the noisy fussy gassy baby? I thought I ordered a quiet smiling calm baby. Oh, wait ... I only specified healthy with lots of hair. I guess I did get the right order.

So I'm trying this product. Has anyone else had success or failure with it?

Wordless Thursday

All photo credits to my Mother in Law.

Thanks, MomP, for the pictures!
(And for letting me marry your son.)

Overheard

A friend of mine relayed a story from the Pre-K classroom. She was there to hear this (I was already gone).

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Ethan was showing Miss M his loose tooth today, and Noah said, "I have two loose teeth. Only they don't move yet."

Overheard

Scenario: Isaiah is in a size 3 pair of pants and they were extra long so I rolled cuffs. He climbs into his carseat and as I am buckling him, he looks down, reaches into the cuffs, and says, "Whoa! These have pockets!"

Lessons from Madeleine

Madeleine asked tonight if we could have the left over brownies for dessert and I said that we could. This is the Madeleine who would rather have seconds on veggies than dessert! This must have been a rare craving for sweets; I know that she really wanted this brownie. She finished her supper first, waited patiently for the rest of us to catch up, and then was sent to the shower by Jeremy. She went obediently, dressed, and came back to the kitchen last, after Morgan and Noah had come in and had their brownies. Three year old Isaiah had his. Then Isaiah had Madeleine's. She came in and asked if she could now have her brownie. I told her that she could, that it was on the table. She said, "No it's not. Isaiah ate them all." I turned around to find that, sure enough, he had consumed Madeleine's brownie as well as his own. I apologized to her and she skipped out of the room, apparently unfazed. I scolded Isaiah and he went after Madeleine saying, "I sorry, Maddie. I not bad. I sorry, Maddie." She turned to him and said, "Isaiah, you didn't upset me! You made me happy! I'm so happy that you love brownies." It was hearing this that taught me a good lesson. This is why Jesus says we must be like little children to enter the kingdom of Heaven.

*Note: I dug through the cupboards and found the unruffled Madeleine a dessert.

Family Size 2

Speaking of family size, society also tells parents that they should have only two children because more children is HARD WORK. I can't disagree with that part. It is hard work. I'm completely exhausted at the end of the day. But two kids wore me out. So did three. Four kids had me pretty tired, too. Why not go for five, then? Not so bad. Could six be that different? Maybe.

Here's something society forgets to tell parents: kids get older, get more self sufficient, and can help ... yes ... HELP (gulp) with their younger siblings and with chores. And if they help with their younger siblings and with chores, not only will they still have a childhood, they'll be smarter, stronger, and more grounded.

I will tell you another secret: it's easier for me to make a day go smoothly when my older two girls are home from school! Not only do they agree to help me with Isaiah, Maria, and chores, they want to. I've had to tell them both 'no' to diaper changing (too messy) and they were actually disappointed. They want to hold Maria. They want to soothe her. Noah wants to help me stir up supper. He is proud to help Isaiah use the toilet. Morgan is happy to help Isaiah wash his hands and Madeleine is proud to read him a book. Sometimes I chase them away for helping too much! The kids are also happy to earn money doing extra chores or favors.

Having three under three was no picnic but now, five years later, I'm seeing the payoff. It's a darn good thing that we let God plan our family; we couldn't have done a better job.

Family Size

Cousins
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Large families are beautiful. I think that children desire siblings more than any other gift. If parents are able, it is a wonderful gift to children to have siblings.

When we were first pregnant with Maria, the children were ecstatic. You'd think we'd given them a weekly trip to Disney World complete with unlimited souvenirs (although I'm not sure they know what Disney World is). Today it's the same. There's competition to hold Maria--who got to hold her last and for how long? Whose turn is it? Who does she like the best? Who made her smile? Did she whimper, Mom? I'll pick her up. Should I give her a pacifier? A blanket? My blanket? It's not just Maria who is the focus of her siblings' affection. Isaiah scores high there. The three older children are his potty-training cheerleaders and are always trying to help him with a toy or his shoes or seat belt. He wiggled in next to Madeleine the other day, said, "Can I hug you?" and after they hugged, finished with, "You're the best sister ever." Oh, empty my heart (I've got to make room for this feeling)!

When things come up that are a little difficult for the children, I remind them of their blessings. For example: the seats of the van are now full. Morgan is squeezed in between two car seats. Noah was bickering with her for taking up space and she was picking on him while he tried to sleep. I chastised them and reminded them that our van is now crowded because they have a new favorite toy sister and asked if she was worth a little crowding. They quickly agreed that she is worth it. They even quit bickering!

A few times, I've ventured into realm of priorities. "Would you rather have xyz or a new sister?" The answer is always a new sister. "I can't get up and run around the yard with you because I just gave birth to your new sister. Would you rather have me to play with or would you give that up for a little while to have a new sister?" The answer is always the new sister. The girls have even asked how long they'll have to wait until Maria will come to sleep in their room.

This contradicts what society tells us about our children. Society tells us that our children are selfish, that they want the high-end toys, iPods and phones, nice clothing, fancy vacations, plenty of space, their own bedroom, and all of their parents' attention. Society tells us that in order to make their dreams come true, we need to limit our family size. Phooey. Kids want brothers and sisters.

What does society tell our children when it tell us to limit our family size? My (very wise) doctor pointed out something. If a parent rolls his eyes to Heaven and says "I can't handle any more," what is he telling his children? I couldn't handle anymore of YOU. YOU are too much for me. But with openness to life, a parent says without words, "You are so great that we wanted 10 more of you." What does that tell the child? What an ego boost! That's what we tell our kids and inquiring strangers. Our first 2 or 3 or 4 kids were so great that we wanted another.

I don't know what size our family will be in the end. Perhaps God will add two or five more. Heaven forbid, we could lose one. Maybe we'll stay right where we are. I've had many people ask, as they admire Maria, whether we are done or whether we will have more. My response to the whether we'll have more is, "I hope so!" To whether we are done, I respond, "I don't know!" How could I? I don't know what God has in store for us. It is the same as asking whether I'll still be alive next week (I hope so) or whether I'll be alive at age 89 (I don't know). I am not in control of these things.

Psalm 127: 3-5 "Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one's youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them! He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate."

Overheard

Scenario: Noah wants help with something. He comes to me, observes my activity, and says, "Mom, when you're finished milking Maria...."

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Scenario: Isaiah has put his Easter basket on his head and is walking around the living room. He says, "Look at my Easter head!"

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When we pulled up to Target tonight, nearly-three year old Isaiah piped up, "This isn't Target! This is a STORE!"

Seconds From Disaster

I am at the end of the most unbelievable morning. Note that I am neither stressed out nor am I upset. I am not seeking sympathy. I just can't believe how quickly 3.5 hours passed with nonstop activity. I laugh as I sit here and think about it. Life with a new baby is always very interesting.

I've got 5 kids at home; school is out this week.

I got out of bed at 8:00 when Maria was crying in her room. She was hungry. I fed her, burped her, and handed her off to Morgan so that I could clean up the breakfast mess sitting on the table. I took her from Morgan and laid her in the changing area in the Pack 'n' Play in my room. I got distracted with pony tails, help with puzzles, and Transformers. I handed out new shoes to four children. When I went back to her, I found that someone had removed her diaper (not me) and she had wet all over her lower half and the blanket beneath her. I sent Isaiah away and grabbed her bathtub. I bathed her, dressed her, and fed her again. She fell asleep. I handed her to Madeleine and went to the bathroom to shower as fast as I could.

While in the shower, I received four different visits from two different children. The last was Noah telling me that Isaiah was into the sugar in the kitchen. We made "donuts" the night before and I left the powdered sugar at the back of the counter. He pulled a chair up to the counter and made the biggest mess my kitchen has ever seen. So I filled the bathtub and put Isaiah in it. I answered a phone call. Madeleine came into the kitchen to tell me she's tired of holding Maria and I handed Maria off to Morgan. I turned the radio on, listened to our Bishop speaking on Catholic radio, and began cleaning up the kitchen. I called to Noah and told him to get into the bathtub. I had to unload the dishwasher in order to clean that mess up. I finish and began loading it again. I wiped counters, cupboards, swept the floor, wiped chairs, cleaned the table, scrubbed what needed scrubbing, and finished up as Madeleine came in to tell me that while I was cleaning, the boys had been splashing water onto the bathroom floor.

I went into the bathroom and moved the sopping bathroom rug. I put down a towel and told Noah to add more water, as I needed to wash their hair. He told me all the hot water was gone.

*sigh*

Morgan came into the bathroom to tell me that she thought Maria was poopy, as she smelled bad and felt wet. I tell her to hang in there--I've got to finish with the cold boys in the luke warm water who are shivering and then I'll help her. Madeleine wanted a pony tail too. The phone was ringing again.

I finished with the boys, toweled off Isaiah and instructed Noah to dry off and get dressed. I sopped water from the corners of the bathroom. I put Isaiah in a Pull-Up and got him dressed. I talked Morgan through holding a poopy baby while she waited.

As fast as I could, I took down the Pack 'n' Play and move it from our bedroom to Maria's room. I set it back up and covered the changing area with a fresh blanket. I told Morgan to put Maria down. I filled the empty wet wipe container and grabbed a handful of diapers. I told Morgan to go wash her hands, as she had used the words, "She feels wet," when talking about Maria.

I told everyone to put shoes and socks on and go outside. I changed Maria, got her dressed again, and sat down to nurse her. By then it was 11:30.

So much for the museum, so much for the park, so much for an errand to Target and to Home Depot. Time for lunch.

I turned on the TV to nurse Maria. I put it on the National Geographic Channel and realized that I was watching the show Seconds From Disaster. It's about the December 2004 Tsunami in Asia/the Indian Ocean. Yikes. I wasn't stressed out to begin with, but God always has a way of pointing out that my unbelievable mornings are pretty mild.

Current Pictures

Maria slept in her swing a few days ago.
Isaiah carried a 6 pound bowling ball toward the lane. He is almost three!
Noah wore two apple bags on his head. He is five.
Morgan chalked a picture of the Sacred Heart on the driveway. She is nearly 8.
Madeleine fell asleep on the couch after a long day at school. She will be 7 in June.