Bravest 4-year-old girl EVER! Enough said...
(more later)
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Monday, July 25, 2011
Holy Hornets!
So, as promised...here is why Evie was holding her arm in the pics from the previous post.We were given the option of scenery for Liam's photos. Woodsy/barnsy or downtown walls. Having never done pictures downtown before, we chose the latter. You'd think the more rural option would pose more of a hazard with wildlife and bugs. Not in South Georgia. That evening at 6:30pm, it was still a balmy 95 degrees. And of course, the gnats (and other critters) were out in full force.
We pulled up behind some downtown businesses for Liam's first pictures. Kim (the photographer) has a great eye for backdrops. She set up quickly and started snapping shots of Liam. The excitement flowed. Behind this building was a staircase that led to a dropped-down patio that the older two couldn't resist a climb down. When Evie came up to me a few minutes later, tugging on my pants leg, I could only fend her off for so long before I had to acknowledge her attempts to grab my attention.
With tears welling up in her eyes, she was trying to tell me her arm hurt. But she didn't know why. Finally seeing the tiny red dot I instinctively knew she'd been stung...by a bee. Not wanting to stop the shoot (you only get so long with a one year old before they become completely unravelled), I told Ryan and Kim to keep going as I ran off toward the car. Kim had generously offered to let us steal some ice out of the cup in her car. Thank goodness, because I had nothing to thwart the pain.
Evie and I sat in the car, me holding a cube of frozen water to her arm, for a few minute before the ice cube moved and I saw another, much larger, red dot. My poor baby had been stung twice! She didn't quite know what to think of all this pain and what had just happened to her. She begged me to tell her teacher when she returned to school Monday. She told me she didn't want this to happen to any of her friends...they might not know this could happen to them too! I was frantically searching the Internet on my phone, trying to find a quick fix that would get rid of all her pain...something I might have in my Mommy mobile. But I soon found the ice was my best, and only, option.
Once her forearm was thoroughly numb, we emerged from the car and went back to see how things were going. In our absence, Ryan had looked down the stairs and saw it...a big, nasty nest with 4 wasps lingering close by.
Wasps! Not only was she stung by a bee...it was a wasp! I quickly remembered how, when Evie was just a baby, I was stung by a wasp. It hurt! Bad! And Ryan was all too kind enough to tell me how much better Evie had handle twice the amount of pain I had experienced.
We stayed a little longer behind that downtown building (far away from that staircase) and then drove over to Albany's very first brick house for a change of scenery. Wanting to get a couple pictures of the kids together to make the most of the shoot, we gathered them along the white picket fence. By this point, the thought of being a supermodel for a few moments was no longer appealing to Evie. The promise of a new toy and ice cream could only do so much. She did her best to throw on a smile, and even uncovered her new boo boo for a couple snaps. But it hurt. And she was done. She was tired and we didn't have the heart to push her any harder.
After Liam quite quickly gobbled down his tasty cupcake, we called it a day. Evie had been so brave and really had handled the ugly situation much better than Mommy ever could have. We went off to eat dinner and then went and got our princess a new toy and a cup of Watermelon Taffy ice cream and marshmallows (not as good as it sounds!). And I must say, I think it did the trick.
As much as it broke our heart to see her cry while trying to be such a big girl, and as much as I wish she'd never had to go through that...when we look at those photos, we'll always have a story to tell.
The 3rd Child
So, when people tell you you get lazier with your third child...it's completely true. You don't love them any less. You don't care less about their achievements. I don't know if it's the fact that you are just so much busier (because if anyone ever tells you it's no big deal going from 2 to 3 kids - they're a giant liar), or if it's the fact that you've already been there, done that.
When Evie was born, we had pictures taken every single month for the first 12 months of her life. Some were beautiful studio pictures from a very nice photographer (see her gorgeous 1st birthday pic in the previous post), and some were just plain old Sears or Olan Mills. But regardless, we never missed a portrait session. Although I wasn't as dedicated with baby Chase, even he had several shoots before he celebrated his #1.
So when Liam turned 1 a couple weeks ago, I started to feel pretty guilty that I had never had a photo session for Liam. Sure, he was in our family Christmas pictures. He had Easter pictures with his big brother and sister and a couple fluffy ducklings. He even had a mini shoot at his daycare this Spring. But we had never scheduled his own full-blown Liam modeling session. We love our Liam, but we just hadn't had the time and energy it takes to pull off such a feat as baby pictures.
So, my guilt eventually drove me to schedule a session (with the best photographer I could think of - she's AWESOME!...check out kandrphotograhy.net). And my scheduled session drove me to buy a couple really cute outfits for wardrobe changes. And 1 hour before we had to leave, panic drove me to call Ryan and have him stop to pick up a couple balloons and a cupcake on the way home. I suddenly felt like I had to make these the best pictures ever to make up for my whole year of slacking off.
But in the end our Liam, with his beautiful big blue eyes, was the one to pull it all off. You can't see the money we spent on the session, the clothes or even the cupcake. You can't see the last year worth of lost opportunities to capture precious moments. All you see is that sweet little boy made from love as his smile melts your heart.
But while we were at it...we did decide to throw his brother in sister in there with him for a couple sweet shots, too. Maybe tomorrow I will find time to sit down and tell you why Evie was holding her arm in every picture...
Sunday, July 17, 2011
Little Boy, BIG Attitude!
Liam had his 1-year checkup with Dr. Smith on Wednesday.
You'd think the scariest part of a little boy's checkup would be the shots. You'd never think the real battle would be over a piece of cotton and a Daffy Duck band aid. I thought the reason they have those cute little character band aids is to add a little excitement to a scary situation. But Liam did not appreciate the gesture...not one bit.
Our visit started with the usual...a trip to the lab in the back for a finger prick to check his hemoglobin. In there they always have a couple of those silly singing stuffed animals to entertain the kids; the kind you'd find at Valentine's or Easter in the holiday section at a department store. I always promptly take him over to the counter and show him the new toys while the nurse preps for the stick. I wait until right before they stick to press the button that starts the song. This time, Liam started getting pretty worked up just during the prep. So I pressed the ducks foot and she started swaying and singing. I can't even remember the song because, reacting to Liam's reaction, I was too flustered by this point to hear anything but the wimpers of what I knew was about to be a knock-down, drag-out wrestling match. The nurse stuck Liam's finger, and he took it pretty well. Just a little fussing...until she started to put the band aid on. He didn't like that she was holding his finger so tightly, as she fumbled to get a band aid around the boo-boo with cotton still underneath. When it was finally secure and Liam was able to retrive his appendage, that's when he realize he was crippled. Crippled by an adhesive piece of a cartoon duck.
Worried that he was still in some way bothered by being in the presence of the nurse who had just violated him, I made a beeline for the exam room to quiet him down. I thought surely when he was away from the scene of the crime that he would regain some of his composure. Boy, was I wrong. The fit lasted a good 5 minutes as Liam tried to fling and pry the restraint from body. I wish I had known what his mindset was. I couldn't figure out for the life of me why he had just whimpered as she jabbed a needle into his finger tip but was now wailing at his new decoration. Removing it wasn't an option. He was still bleeding, more profusely than he would be if he hadn't been in the middle of a full-blown hissy-fit. The nurse had sent me back to the room with a backup band aid, somehow keenly aware that the first wouldn't last very long. So when Liam was finally able to wrangle the band aid from his finger, there was a mad rush to apply the second one before he got his blood all over Mommy's white top.
There was lots of dancing and singing, pointing and distracting that never really helped until he finally decided on his own to give in. Finally we were able to get him somewhat calmed down...right before Dr. Smith walked in. Now, my other children love old Dr. Smith. As goofy as he might seem, he has an incredible rapport with my older kids. They've loved him from the beginning. He always talks on there level and includes them in his exam. He asks them questions, tells silly stories, and never fails to have a neat little knick knack in his pocket for them to ogle. If I am taking one of the boys to see Dr. Smith, Evie is always profoundly jealous and suddenly so sick she needs a checkup too. This is why she accompanied us to the office today...just so she could see her beloved Dr. Smith.
Liam has not yet become a huge Dr. Smith fan. It doesn't help that he is really heading into that stranger anxiety phase. But he did pretty good this time. He let Dr. Smith listen to his chest without a hiccup. He didn't scream his usual cries when he took a peak at his ears, because Dr. Smith was kind enough to let him rest his head on my shoulders when he did so. And, without fail, out came a toy which showed Liam puppies running around in a plastic egg trying to catch a football. I think Evie was more interested in the toy than Liam, as she almost fell out of the chair she was standing on trying to see it; but it helped some, nonetheless.
We had a nice, long conversation with Dr. Smith about Liam's big attitude. We told him about how Liam does what Liam wants to, and there's not much wiggle room to work with. I can scream at the top of my lungs (which I have done on many occasions) and if Liam doesn't want to turn around, he doesn't. Dr. Smith gave us a few pointers and ideas on how to help curve his behavior in the right direction. This is all new to us. Chase and Evie were fairly well-behaved toddlers. Heck, they were absolute angels compared to our little horned Liam.
And off went Dr. Smith. And in came the two nurses we knew were up to no good. With them they brought a couple more of those trusty band aids along with 4 syringes and 4 shiny needles. I had to help hold him down as they poked him again, this time in his thighs. I think the worst part for him was being held down...Liam does not take kindly to being restrained. It was all over in a matter of seconds, and so were the tears. I don't think he even noticed the band aids this time.
Our visit concluded with the usual statistics. His weight was 20lbs, 13oz; his height 29 1/2in. He ranks just below the 50th percentile for height and 25th for weight. He is definitely the tiniest of my children. If I remember correctly, Chase was probably off the charts at that age...a total chunk. Evie was 21 1/2lbs, 30 1/2in (60th, 90th respectively). I have attached some pictures of the kids at 1 year for comparison. Enjoy their chubby faces!
Liam
Chase
Evie
You'd think the scariest part of a little boy's checkup would be the shots. You'd never think the real battle would be over a piece of cotton and a Daffy Duck band aid. I thought the reason they have those cute little character band aids is to add a little excitement to a scary situation. But Liam did not appreciate the gesture...not one bit.
Our visit started with the usual...a trip to the lab in the back for a finger prick to check his hemoglobin. In there they always have a couple of those silly singing stuffed animals to entertain the kids; the kind you'd find at Valentine's or Easter in the holiday section at a department store. I always promptly take him over to the counter and show him the new toys while the nurse preps for the stick. I wait until right before they stick to press the button that starts the song. This time, Liam started getting pretty worked up just during the prep. So I pressed the ducks foot and she started swaying and singing. I can't even remember the song because, reacting to Liam's reaction, I was too flustered by this point to hear anything but the wimpers of what I knew was about to be a knock-down, drag-out wrestling match. The nurse stuck Liam's finger, and he took it pretty well. Just a little fussing...until she started to put the band aid on. He didn't like that she was holding his finger so tightly, as she fumbled to get a band aid around the boo-boo with cotton still underneath. When it was finally secure and Liam was able to retrive his appendage, that's when he realize he was crippled. Crippled by an adhesive piece of a cartoon duck.
Worried that he was still in some way bothered by being in the presence of the nurse who had just violated him, I made a beeline for the exam room to quiet him down. I thought surely when he was away from the scene of the crime that he would regain some of his composure. Boy, was I wrong. The fit lasted a good 5 minutes as Liam tried to fling and pry the restraint from body. I wish I had known what his mindset was. I couldn't figure out for the life of me why he had just whimpered as she jabbed a needle into his finger tip but was now wailing at his new decoration. Removing it wasn't an option. He was still bleeding, more profusely than he would be if he hadn't been in the middle of a full-blown hissy-fit. The nurse had sent me back to the room with a backup band aid, somehow keenly aware that the first wouldn't last very long. So when Liam was finally able to wrangle the band aid from his finger, there was a mad rush to apply the second one before he got his blood all over Mommy's white top.
There was lots of dancing and singing, pointing and distracting that never really helped until he finally decided on his own to give in. Finally we were able to get him somewhat calmed down...right before Dr. Smith walked in. Now, my other children love old Dr. Smith. As goofy as he might seem, he has an incredible rapport with my older kids. They've loved him from the beginning. He always talks on there level and includes them in his exam. He asks them questions, tells silly stories, and never fails to have a neat little knick knack in his pocket for them to ogle. If I am taking one of the boys to see Dr. Smith, Evie is always profoundly jealous and suddenly so sick she needs a checkup too. This is why she accompanied us to the office today...just so she could see her beloved Dr. Smith.
Liam has not yet become a huge Dr. Smith fan. It doesn't help that he is really heading into that stranger anxiety phase. But he did pretty good this time. He let Dr. Smith listen to his chest without a hiccup. He didn't scream his usual cries when he took a peak at his ears, because Dr. Smith was kind enough to let him rest his head on my shoulders when he did so. And, without fail, out came a toy which showed Liam puppies running around in a plastic egg trying to catch a football. I think Evie was more interested in the toy than Liam, as she almost fell out of the chair she was standing on trying to see it; but it helped some, nonetheless.
We had a nice, long conversation with Dr. Smith about Liam's big attitude. We told him about how Liam does what Liam wants to, and there's not much wiggle room to work with. I can scream at the top of my lungs (which I have done on many occasions) and if Liam doesn't want to turn around, he doesn't. Dr. Smith gave us a few pointers and ideas on how to help curve his behavior in the right direction. This is all new to us. Chase and Evie were fairly well-behaved toddlers. Heck, they were absolute angels compared to our little horned Liam.
And off went Dr. Smith. And in came the two nurses we knew were up to no good. With them they brought a couple more of those trusty band aids along with 4 syringes and 4 shiny needles. I had to help hold him down as they poked him again, this time in his thighs. I think the worst part for him was being held down...Liam does not take kindly to being restrained. It was all over in a matter of seconds, and so were the tears. I don't think he even noticed the band aids this time.
Our visit concluded with the usual statistics. His weight was 20lbs, 13oz; his height 29 1/2in. He ranks just below the 50th percentile for height and 25th for weight. He is definitely the tiniest of my children. If I remember correctly, Chase was probably off the charts at that age...a total chunk. Evie was 21 1/2lbs, 30 1/2in (60th, 90th respectively). I have attached some pictures of the kids at 1 year for comparison. Enjoy their chubby faces!
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