92 Years Young

92 years young is how old Gramma is today! For those unfortunate souls who have never met Gramma Moroni, she is the spunkiest, wildest lady I know!

I was just on the phone with her talking about her plans for Turkey Day and her Birthday. She said she was going to our cousins, and looking forward to getting out of the house. I reminded her not to eat much turkey so she would have plenty of room to enjoy cake and ice cream...her response..."Well, there's going to be ham to, so I'm just going to take multiple trips...even if it takes me all day!" Love it.

We also talked about turning 92 and all the fun and exciting things she's gotten to do in her life. I asked if she felt like she was 92...after she thought for a minute she said, "Well, most days I feel like I'm 45." You go girl!

Happy Birthday Gramma, we love you! Enjoy your cake and ice cream...even if it takes all day-you deserve it!

My Second Mama Bear Moment

These "Mama Bear" moments seem to be coming more frequently these days. I'm quickly learning that there's nothing I won't do to take care of Reilly and his care, health and safety is forever going to come first from now on.

In going through everything with Reilly's upper g.i. test, Dave and I have been thinking long and hard about how happy we were with the pediatrician that we had Reilly seeing. We've had some concerns with things in the past, and this past week, we've just come to the conclusion that we needed to explore other options.

I called a couple of new Dr.'s offices yesterday to see if we could get him in somewhere else. Everyone told me the same thing, they had to get his records from the old Dr. before they would see him. Okay, easy enough.

I called the old Dr. to get the records sent over, and was told I had to come in and sign a release of records form so they could send them. Great, I'm on my way. I get there, get the forms filled out and signed and take them back up to the window. I'm told there's a fee of $20.00 for them to transfer records. Okay, not happy, but I wrote the check.

Then, I'm told that the earliest that the records would be transferred is about a week and a half to two weeks. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? I had provided all the information they needed, all they had to do was fax the records over to the new Dr. I was told that there was no way that could happen.

Evidently, Memorial "outsources" their medical records, and the only people that can transfer patient records is the people that they are outsourced too. Of course, the outsourced people aren't coming back to our particular office until Friday of this week. When I then asked if the records could be released to me, as his mother, they said no. UM...WHAT? I'M HIS MOTHER. I HAVE A RIGHT TO MY SON'S MEDICAL RECORDS. Nope. Another not nice lady, comes around the corner and in a very snotty tone tells me that Indiana state law states that Dr.s offices have up to 30 days to transfer records, and I should feel lucky that it only might be 2 weeks. Here go the claws.

Long story short, I fought with the Dr.s office and "outsourced" company for 4.5 hours yesterday over the phone trying to get a copy of my son's medical records. No one seemed to get that my son has a medical issue that we wanted a second opinion on and release the records to me. I couldn't get the nurses or ladies to understand that if they would just give me the records, they could be done dealing with me. They just kept telling me to look up Indiana state laws, they were well within their rights.

At one point, I was told that because I was being so disrespectful (this by the woman who hung up on me!) and if I didn't calm down, I would only be allowed to talk to their lawyer. ARE YOU KIDDING ME? It was the most frustrating day of my life.

It wasn't until our last phone call, that I had shared that I had indeed looked up some of the Indiana state laws (well...really, Aunt Keely did this and shared with me what she found!) that I finally got somewhere. We went from absolutely not being able to access the records before Friday to them suddenly being willing to fax them to the new Dr. today. Miracles of all miracles. It pays not to give up!

I'm not proud of how I acted and some of the things I said to these ladies yesterday...but seriously...don't mess with Reilly's health. You won't win.

My First Mama Bear Moment

I've always heard of those "crazy" parents that go all nuts when something doesn't go wrong with their child. Being a teacher, I've always understood that feeling to a certain degree. There wasn't much I wasn't willing to do for my kids at school...for the most part, I've always been willing to stand behind them 100% and believe in them.

On Tuesday morning, I officially had my first "Mama Bear" moment. A moment in which I wanted to hurt another human being for "messing" with my little man.

We had to go to the Navarre Place Tuesday morning for Reilly's upper g.i. test. He wasn't allowed to eat for 4 hours prior to the test. He had gotten up at 3:00 on Tuesday morning and I fed him. He didn't get up again, (although we tried at about 4:30 so he wouldn't be starving!) He woke up at 6:15 and of course he wanted to eat. He was hungry. That's what he does.

The poor thing had to endure me walking, rocking, singing, swinging, bouncing, everything I could think of to get his mind off of food. Nothing was working to well...he just wanted to eat. We finally left the house at about 8:00 and were on our way over to the Dr's office for the test. Thankfully Aunt Kim met us in the parking garage so we had some extra support.

We were called back to the room about 9:00 and he was stripped down, ready for his test. I was gowned up in the special x-ray gown so I could stay with him. He was still very hungry. Aunt Kim had to go to the hallway and wait for us.

By the time the nurses had him ready and had talked to me about what he would be doing, it was about 9:10. They told us to hang out, the Dr. would be right in to complete the test. We waited. And waited. And waited some more. At 9:25, I finally opened the door to at least let Kim know nothing was happening. The nurses continued to come in and check on us, (I'm sure it was because my son was SCREAMING from hunger and they were annoyed!)

Aunt Kim took her turn trying to calm our little hungry man down,(side note, at this point, I too was crying with frustration that my baby was having to go through this!) and as she was pacing the hallway, she stumbled upon a room where the Dr. was sitting. This was a conversation she overhead from the hallway.

Nurse: "Dr., we're ready when you are."
Dr. "What do you have?"
Nurse: "A baby-3 weeks old." (In a tone that showed even she was annoyed for making us wait at this point.
Dr. "Ok."

He continued to sit there, not moving. Kim continued to stand outside the door and let Reilly scream...point for Aunt Kim!!!!!!!!

It wasn't long after that, that the Dr. finally came into the room to see us. 50 minutes later than our original appointment, almost 7 hours since the last time my child had eaten. It wasn't pretty. It took all I had not to rip his hair off his head when he was all smiley and asked how we were doing. Seriously???

Needless to say, Reilly sucked down the nasty Barium at a high rate of speed...it could have been rat poison, he didn't care. Unfortunately, almost as soon as it went down, it started to come back up, so wasn't full for long.

Thankfully, with everything we had to endure, the test came back and showed that all Rei's insides are normal and we just have to get this acid reflux issue settled.

I know have a much better understanding of the protective feeling a mother feels for her children. There's nothing like the helpless feeling that you get when you can't fix them. I also think that Dr. should feel pretty blessed that I didn't go crazy, cuz I wanted to.

Here's hoping Reilly won't remember his week 3 birthday, it wasn't the greatest.

This Is What I Make...

WHAT TEACHERS MAKE

The dinner guests were sitting around the table discussing life. One man, a CEO, decided to explain the problem with education. He argued, "What's a kid going to learn from someone who decided his best option in life was to become a teacher?" He reminded the other dinner guests what they say about teachers: "Those who can, do. Those who can't, teach." To stress his point he said to another guest; "You're a teacher, Bonnie. Be honest. What do you make?" Bonnie, who had a reputation for honesty and frankness replied, "You want to know what I make?" (She paused for a second, then began...) "Well, I make kids work harder than they ever thought they could. I make a C+ feel like the Congressional Medal of Honor. I make kids sit through 40 minutes of class time when their parents can't make them sit for 5 minutes without an I Pod, Game Cube or movie rental." "You want to know what I make?" (She paused again and looked at each and every person at the table.) ''I make kids wonder. I make them question. I make them apologize and mean it. I make them have respect and take responsibility for their actions. I teach them to write and then I make them write." "Keyboarding isn't everything. I make them read, read, read. I make them show all their work in math. They use their God given brain, not the man-made calculator." "I make my students from other countries learn everything they need to know in English while preserving their unique cultural identity. I make my classroom a place where all my students feel safe. I make my students stand, placing their hand over their heart to say the Pledge of Allegiance to the Flag, One Nation Under God, because we live in the United States of America."Finally, I make them understand that if they use the gifts they were given, work hard, and follow their hearts, they can succeed in life." (Bonnie paused one last time and then continued.) "Then, when people try to judge me by what I make, with me knowing money isn't everything, I can hold my head up high and pay no attention because they are ignorant.. You want to know what I make? I MAKE A DIFFERENCE" "What do you make Mr. CEO?" His jaw dropped, and he went silent.

A Helpless Feeling

Ugh. I was recently talking to one of my dear friends telling her about my experiences of being a mommy. She's an amazing person, friend, mother, co-worker and role model. Through the past years that I've known her, I've learned countless lessons from her and really look up to her. She has been amazing since I've had Reilly, calling nearly every day to see how we are doing and if we need anything.

The last time we were talking, it was the same day that I had found out that Reilly had to have an Upper G.I. test on Tuesday to see why he always gets sick when he is done eating. I was sharing my concerns with her, and I knew she could hear the tears in my voice. She let me vent about how unfair life is and ask over and over why he had to go through this test when he hasn't done anything to deserve it. She listened and sympathised with me. Her next comment really struck me and it's been on my mind ever since.

Here's what she said. "Kori, welcome to motherhood. All of those times that people told you that you could never imagine loving anyone as much as you would love your son suddenly seems so true. You are officially a mommy because you now know what it feels like to be helpless to a situation no matter how hard you try or what you do. Unfortunately, this will be the first of many times like these."

I've thought about what she said a lot since then. Here's my conclusions...this part of motherhood stinks! There is nothing I would love more than to fix Reilly's tummy so that he doesn't spit up each time he eats. I want to fix his belly so that he's not in pain, I want to wave a wand and make him better. I just can't. And it STINKS! This helpless feeling STINKS!

I have realized in the past 20 days that there is no greater joy than being this little man's mama. He is the most precious gift I've ever been given and I am so blessed to call him mine. It's true, you don't know your heart's capacity to love until you see your child for the very first time. I just wish my love for him could fix his belly!

Our Plentiful Harvest

For those of you reading this that know me well, you probably know that I've pretty much had a lifetime goal of growing pumpkins.

I remember asking my mom and dad (mostly my dad) each year if this was the year that I would get to plant pumpkins in the backyard. Each year, the answer remained the same..."NO!" I even presented it in different ways each year, hoping my persuasive powers would do the trick. They (again, mostly dad) never wavered though, he always stuck with the same answer. Each year, when Halloween was over, I used to sneak back to the big field in the back of our house and throw my pumpkin down as hard as I could in hopes that it would break open, the seeds would spread and the next year, there would be "magical" pumpkin plants that popped up. That didn't even work.

Well, now that I'm married, and have my own backyard, I brought up the idea to Dave this year. He jumped right on board. (Just another reason I love him!) So, let me set this up for you...we went to the friendly Menards store back in June and bought three kinds of pumpkin seeds. We bought seeds to grown mini pumpkins (you know, like the gourd kind), seeds to grow regular sized pumpkins and seeds to grow giant jack-o-lanterns.

Dave went out back in early July to plant our harvest. We carefully dug up the grass and he popped in the seeds. He figured that it was a good idea to plant all three packets because they certainly wouldn't all grow. Much to our amazement, in just a few short weeks, we had a gazillion and a half pumpkin plants growing and taking over our backyard.

We tended our pumpkins with love and care all summer long. We watered, fertilized, talked to and visited them each day. They grew and grew and grew. They were green and lovely. We were proud pumpkin growers.

One problem--the leaves were bountiful, the fruit was not. We soon began to worry because there weren't to many actual pumpkins growing on the vines. We had a couple, but nothing to write home about. It seemed the mini-pumpkins were doing the best, but how were we ever going to carve those?!?!?!?

Well-our plentiful harvest turned out to be two tiny pumpkins (they were full grown, but the mini gourd kind!) My first year of growing pumpkins, and we get two small pumpkins. Oh well, at least I got to grow pumpkins. Maybe next year's harvest will be more plentiful.

The Scoop On Poop...

So here's a blog I never imagined writing...all about poop.

I've had quite a bit of experience with it lately...nearly 5 times a day as a matter of fact. I guess you could say I've even come to appreciate it a little more than I used to. I've gotten used to checking it out, noticing the color and textures...things I'd never thought I'd be doing or interested in. But, here I am..writing about the scoop on poop.

Here are some things I've learned about poop that comes out of a little man.

• It's often interesting that one little person can produce so much.
• If the diaper is at a slight angle on the little person's body, there is a greater chance of a blow out, creating a need for a change of clothes, from the onesie, to the outfit to the socks.
• Little people like to swing their feet, often using their socks as wipes if you aren't quick enough to anchor them down or get the wipe there first.
• Little men don't poop quietly, everyone in the house knows when the job is done.
• Little people don't really care if there is a diaper in place or not, if they have to go, they have to go, and they're willing to do the job anywhere...on their mom's chest, in her bed, on the changing table and even on the living room couch.

Just a few more lessons that Reilly teaches me everyday. I wouldn't trade this job for the world!

One Week Later...

It was almost exactly one week ago that I was walking down the hall at Memorial Hospital, on the way to the Operating Room to welcome Reilly into the world. Yep, that's right, I had to walk down there, looking somewhat like superman, with a blanket cape and all! Dave didn't get to walk with me, he had to come later, after I had been given the epidural.


When we got down to the operating room, I remember the anesteologist talking to me briefly before he began the epidural. Jackie, one of my nurses was standing right in front of me (she could have used a mint) so that I had someone to hold onto as the Doc was doing his thing. I was pretty nervous about the epidural, but it wasn't all that bad. We actually had to do two of them, as he couldn't get the first one to work. The worst part was the numbing shot, just as they said it was going to be.


As soon as he had the epidural in, they had me lay back flat on my back right away. During this time, the other nurse, Chrissy and another one were going through and counting and inventorying all the tools that would be used. I thought that was pretty funny and couldn't quite figure out exactly how we were going to lose anything during the surgery.


Dr. Shah was in there by now, talking to me and getting my belly ready. Dr. Brady, a 4th year resident, was also in there to assist. Dr. Shah went to put up the curtain, so that I couldn't' see anything and warned me that it smelled like a new shower curtain. The anesteologist said that he thought it smelled more like new cheap crayons when you first open the box. These comments got quite the conversation going. We (me included) were then discussing which one the blue sheet smelled more like. I agreed with the crayons, and we eventually convinced Dr. Shah of the same thing. He finally agreed because he said between his two kids and large dog, they had to buy new crayons often because the dog really favored the flavor. Our conversation then went to to how his backyard must be very colorful.


During this time, I heard one of the nurses ask if she should "Go get Daddy?" and Dr. Shah said yes. I think he had already started the process of bringing Reilly into the world. Dave came right in and sat right up by my head. It wasn't to much longer that Dr. Shah told us that Rei's head was out, but I was nervous because there was no crying. Dr. Brady then told me there would be some pressure and my son was born. Again, no crying. I was getting worried, but the nurses and Dave assured me that everything was okay, and at last, we heard a whimper. Not a cry, but a whimper.


During this time, there was a rockin' 80's station on the radio, which started a whole new conversation about good vs. bad 80's music and a small game of "Name that tune", in which Dave participated, but I just listened.


It was about 10-15 minutes later that the nurses finally gave Reilly to Dave and he was able to bring him over to my side of the sheet so that I could get the first glimpse of my son. I was instantly in love.


The Doctors finished their business and we were wheeled into recovery. In recovery, they did what they needed to do, I was finally given some ice chips and then I got to hold my son for the first time! We spent about 25 minutes skin to skin before Dave was able to go tell my family that Reilly had arrived. They came into see us right away.


I didn't get to leave recovery until I was able to move my legs, and my nausea had passed. It wasn't to long before we were wheeled up to room 434, which was to be our home for the next 3 days.


I can't believe it's only been a week that Reilly has been in our lives. I've learned so many lessons in the past 7 days. Just since last Tuesday, I've learned that:

• It's true what they say, you feel a whole different kind of love when you look at your child for the first time.


• Boys tend to pee when cold air hits them...even if it's 4:00 am and you are trying to be tricky and change their diaper while laying in bed.


• Right after cold air makes boys pee, sometimes they poop and it shoots like a fountain, and then you get to change your sheets in the middle of the night.


• It's just a good idea to get yourself out of bed and change diapers on the changing table to avoid situations as stated above.


• Housework can wait. Snuggling MUST come first.


• Doctors can be wrong on predicted weight so you really should have some newborn size clothes around so your son doesn't look like a gangster in every outfit in his closet.


• My family and friends are the best in the world.


• Spending the first night in the hospital after a C-section stinks. The nurses are only doing their jobs, but ugh, why can't they just let people sleep?


• A 7lb being can completely take over your life.


• Epidurals make your ENTIRE body itch....so much so that running through a car wash and being hit by those coarse brushes seems like paradise.


• Your entire attitude towards most things changes...as long as your baby is okay, you're okay.


• I didn't know my heart could expand to love anyone this much.

It's 8:38-and my baby is ONE WEEK OLD! Happy 1 week birthday, Reilly Alexander!

What Does Family Mean?

What exactly does family mean? I've had some time to reflect on that question the past week. As everyone knows by now, Reilly Alexander joined our family last Tuesday morning. Life changed and I wouldn't go back to the way things were for a million dollars. My family became bigger, a teeny tiny person joined my family that changed my life.
My family has changed in other ways. My two sisters became Aunts (one for the first time, one for the second.) My two brother in laws became Uncles (again, one for the first time, the other one for the second.) My dad became a grandpa again, my stepmom-a grandma. My grandparents became great grandparents...my family has changed.
My family has always been close. My sisters are two of my best friends. They are both people that I know I can count on for ANYTHING, they don't ask questions, they don't hesitate, they just help. This has never been more true then the past 7 days.
It all started last Monday, my last without being a mommy, when they both cleared their schedules to take me to lunch. It continued on Tuesday when they both came to the hospital to be with us before I went in for the C-section (and that was at 7:00 am!). It went on when both of them came to the hospital everyday to sit with Reilly and I when Dave was at work, they helped me learn how to be a mommy, they assured me I was doing the right thing, they supported me when I was unsure about what I was doing. They are always there.
I don't know what I would do without Kim and Keely. They have both been priceless in this process of welcoming my son into the world. They've been there with me from the beginning, taking pictures, holding Reilly, changing diapers, soothing cries, and supporting me. They've brought food, love and care everyday since we've been home.
I can't wait for Reilly to get older and realize what special Aunties he has in his life. I know I count my blessings each day for having such amazing sisters in my life. Thanks for always being there, Kim and Keely. I love you.