new shoes!

duplex update and more

so after two and a half weeks of painting, painting and more painting, along with all sorts of cleaning... there is finally a big red check mark in the "complete duplex" category!  i met with a young lady on wednesday and gave her the keys this afternoon.  she has a 5 year old boy and a 2 year old girl.  i think they'll fit right in with all the other kiddos playing in the cul-de-sac.

the other exciting news to share is talk of baby #2.  no, you are not finding out in our blog that i'm pregnant.  i merely said talk of.  i wouldn't do that to ya!  we have decided to push back our "trying" until june/july (before we were thinking april/may).  ben expressed concern of me being holed up in the house feeling lousy, not enjoying the summer months.  i hadn't even thought of that.  last summer, we didn't do much because i felt unsure about taking a 7-8 month old out on the river, camping.  it's such a weird concept this trying stuff.  back in december, ever since we decided that we needed another bubba of sorts, the anticipation has been eating away at me; i've got the fever, if you will!  before, we had a week to decided, whereas now we've had months to ponder the idea.  anyway, jack does need a buddy (or a nemesis), and we'll be happy to oblige him.  

ben is back home and will be for a while.  he quit "company #1" on monday and was working with "company #2" on wednesday.  when you're a good hand, you can find work anywhere!  whatta good man!  he is now working on base at fort richardson.  he came home yesterday to report we have enough work for me to retire on!  that's always a good thing.  this also went together with the o'jay's hit "for the love of money."  can you picture ben singing that in our kitchen, dirty carhartts, face scruff and all?  he's hilarious, and i love him to pieces.

i guess we need a jack update as well... his latest non-cute thing is what he does with his crackers.  i was cooking the other night and had to pacify him with the nilla wafers.  only i noticed he wasn't eating them right away, rather dragging them along the cracks in between the cupboards.  i'm watching pieces flake and break off... wonderful.  then he'd take a soggy bite and go back to grating the wafers on the cabinets.  he's also into launching disapproving food and any crumbs, morsels from his high chair.  and sometimes, he doesn't even need to try the foods, just by looking at it he can tell "nope, you must leave now" or "bombs away!" or "here, bella!"  rascal.  he still has a few reminder pimples on his back from our joyous week.  the first of many nightmarish events, i'm sure.  oooh, this is a big one:  he has finally started to recognize items around him and is able to bring them to me!  i think this is a huge milestone.  he knows his sippy, blankie, bouncy ball, puppy (a super-soft yellow life is good stuffed animal from karen), people (as ben calls it, this playmobile guy that he carries around) and at one bedtime, he even brought me his pj bottoms.  i would like to think this is a step closer to talking.  maybe?  and, he's also been pulling at his diaper a lot so i might have to break out the potty soon.  i can't even imagine life without diapers.  wow.  how handy would that have been a few weeks ago...

well, i have been preoccupied by the duplex fiasco but now that it's taken care of, i can get back on track with blogging, taking pictures and enjoying this beautiful spring weather we've been having!  big hugs to you all!

oh, the pictures included are from easter at the jenkins.  jackie is clapping for his new rain boots!  now we just need some puddles...

zipper fascination

these pictures were taken before jack's friend ella came for a visit.  i meant to post them earlier.  apparently, i had never had jack in this outfit...  he was just enamored by the zipper!  i must have taken a good twenty pictures and in every one, he's holding on to it.  the side-profile is my favorite - those cheeks, those lips!  he's too much!

the prequel to "i spoke too soon"

so as if the latter part of my week wasn't horrific enough... allow me to share how my tuesday unfolded.

i've made a few comments pertaining to our duplex and how much it sucks to be a landlord.  we had to end the lease agreement with our previous renters because they weren't paying. (rent not negotiable? whaaa?)  oh, the horror when i was finally able to start cleaning up the place.  so, i have had to perform lots of patch work to the walls, replace the locks, repaint every room because of the smoking which wasn't allowed, the list just goes on and on. and with ben gone, i didn't have my usual bat-my-eyes-you-do-it-better / get out jail free card to use.  just something that needed to be done.  i had a few helpers watching jackie for me, so i could knock things out and not have to worry about entertaining him.  well, i exhausted those resources, so little mr. miebs came on a take your 17-month old to work day with mama.

last monday was great: finished the last of the touch up painting; jack stayed busy with his matchbox cars; changed out some outlet covers; did the last of the painting in the kitchen - again, all in all i felt i made some headway.  tuesday rolls around, i decide to tackle the ceiling in the master bedroom.  they either did some serious smoking after, well, you know, or they had candles burning while, well, you know or maybe i don't know, but whatever the case was, the ceiling was in desperate need of paint.  i'm 95% done with it when i hear jack has gone into the bathroom (roughly 5 feet from where i am) and shut the door behind him.  as long as it took me to walk the 5 feet, he had already managed to pull out a drawer from the cabinet and perfectly lock himself in the bathroom.  i laugh.  jack LOVES to pull out drawers, open cupboards and as much as he likes to open them, he also LOVES to slam them closed.  so i think, no biggie, i tell him to push the drawers closed at least 30 times a day... "jackie, PUSH."  "hey, bud, can you PUSH it closed?"  "PUSH, bubba."  nothing.  but, i do hear him slamming the toilet seat lid repeatedly.  i slide my fingers underneath the door thinking i can entice him over and then maybe he'll understand my instructions for push more clearly.  ha.

i get down on my hands and knees and peek under the door.  ok.  not only has he pulled the drawer out, he's pulled it far enough out that it is half on the floor, half in the cabinet.  [expletive!]  there's no way he's picking it up and pushing it back in. so, i kinda start to panic.  lots.  i kinda start to feel this rather large lump in my throat.  i call sean.  i call josh.  i call rob.  i call my pops.  no one answers.  apparently the rest of the world are locked in their bathrooms without cell phones.  finally, sean calls and says he's on his way over.  then i call the jenkins and they run down the list of things i've already thought of but won't work (push the door harder. i am!  take the door off the hinges.  they're on the inside!)  i consider the ol' 911 call and decide against having my son swept away by social services.  "really, i'm a GOOD mother!"  finally, dad comes through with "is it a hollow door, just take a hammer to it!"  so, i quickly take down the baby gate that has been protecting jackie from the 13 laminate steps of doom.  i run downstairs, grab my wonderful, glorious hammer and go to town on the door.

within 20 seconds, my son is in my arms, completely terrified from the hammering.  20 seconds prior, he was completely content with splashing in this weird but rather large water bowl.  ew.  with my dad still on the phone, i stand up to put the hammer on the shelf and turn back around in time to see my dear sweet son take a step off the stairs. 

i scream.  i throw my phone.  or maybe i threw my phone and then screamed.  i race down and grab my son who is now blue in the lips because he's screaming so hard but has yet to take a breath or make a sound.  i'm hysterical.  jack's hysterical.  sean shows up with arm loads of tools to possibly fix a 747.  he's relieved that jack's out and thought i was merely crying because i was so happy to have him in my arms.  partly true, but i hadn't been able to share my horrible mother moment #2 in less than a 20 minute period.

we all get calmed down.  jack is back to his cars, back to making laps in his *new* empty arena, jack seems perfectly normal. meanwhile, i'm having thoughts of natasha richardson-like brain injuries.  no messing around, jackie and i load up to check out the emergency room of mat-su regional.  we spend the next 3.5 hours chillin at the er.  the nurses loved him; giving him stickers, 4 different ones took turns holding him, cooing with him, tickling his belly.  the doc checked him out, consoled me, informed me that accidents happen and that this will be one of many er visits (thanks) with a busy-body like him. 

so that was tuesday.  did God really think i needed to be tested more?  especially in the bowel department?  does anyone?  i guess it is all a learning experience.  just when i feel like i'm so careful with him, i get that double whammy.  it just shows that it can happen to anyone.  i really struggle with this because i think of all the times he's cut his lip from falling or he's tripped over his own feet, whacked himself with a toy or he's walked straight into the couch when he's trying to look behind himself (my fav)... these are the sort of accidents i can feel ok about.  i can comfort him and wipe his tears away, give him a cookie and send him on his way, but to think i was the one to cause his pain... it's too much to stomach.  i have to just trust all the stories that others have shared about similar situations ("this stuff will happen"), learn from it (but never forget it) and let it go. jackie is fine and that's all i need to think about. 

so please don't judge.  oh, and i haven't stepped foot in the duplex since.  ben can do the rest.

i spoke too soon

on wednesday evening, massive ickiness resulted in a bath.  this was also after a 3 hour nap so i'm not sure how long he was wallowing in his filth.  thursday morning, about 4 am, i'm pulled awake by his screams from across the house.  i step into our living room, and i can immediately smell what jack is cooking from back in his bedroom.  lovely.  once again, we find ourselves in the bathroom, only this time i discover an even soupier diaper with a rash that has spread to his thighs.  scrub-a-dub-dub, a quick change of the biohazard sheets, a little snuggle time and he's snoozing again.  meanwhile, i'm off to the laundry room.

again, we meet around 7 am thursday morning, another bath, another bed change, another load of laundry, another freaked out-not-eating-annie.  who could eat with so much liquid poo flying around?  we have one more episode thursday evening, the whole routine again.

friday begins, and i practically awake while rolling up my sleeves.  two more of the previous situations.  i should back up and say that while all this has been going on, jack has been his usual run around, hyper self.  he doesn't have a fever, he's not whiney or clingy, and he has an appetite.  i called our doctor on thursday, and he recommended not to do pedilyte ('cause most kids won't drink it), feed him how i normally would as this bug just needs to run its course (heavy on the "run").  so back to friday.  by now, jack has learned that farts are bad.  he comes up to me with a look of terror, "sharts" and off we go.

i have an appointment friday afternoon at 1:30.  by 12:45, he's still not up from his nap, so i quietly roust the bubba.  we change a non-explosive diaper, get all dressed and are about to step foot in the garage, until...  bubba farts.  i pause.  his teeny stomach gurgles.  i set him down and wait.  because i know how fun it is to change him at home, i'm running through the scenario in my head of being at the state farm office with my own little claim.  i decide to cancel my appointment and wait out the storm brewing.  my intuition proves right as 30 minutes later, we're tubbin' it, and i notice his diaper rash not only has spread to his thighs, but to his tiny weiner, the bottom of his belly and around to his back.  it's warm to the touch and redder than those monkey's arse at the mn zoo.  he goes back to bed.  he sleeps for 5 hours.  (this proves to me that he's not feeling the greatest.  obviously.)

once he wakes, i realize we need to grab some things at the store.  i'm feeling somewhat ok about leaving the house as he hasn't had anything to eat for several hours.  as we're walking around fred meyer, he stops his clapping (he loves being in the shopping cart) and gives me a look.  a very familiar look.  then come the farts.  not one series, but three separate series of multiple farts.  i pick up my pace, grab my last few items and head to the check out.  i carefully pull up his sweatshirt and notice he has butt-pee running down the leg of his pants.  i ask for an extra plastic bag as we exit.  i line his car seat, flop him into it, and we're driving home; the bathtub is our only destination.

ohhh, the redness.  not only is he sitting in a tub of that soothing-wash-time-vapor-rub shtuff, but i also break out the epsom salt.  can't hurt.  he soaks for 20 minutes, and i think he can prune no more.  i should mention that on my way home, i called mr. jack's nana for some ideas.  she suggested bananas, which he consumed while soaking.  she also said it'd be a good idea to let him air dry for a bit before i slap on another diaper.  so against my better judgment, i do.  we're in the laundry room (thank the good Lord), i've got my back to him, but i hear a very familiar sound, again.  a sound that is not quite as loud as if it were echoed in a toilet but all the less, a familiar sound.  i turn around and jack is standing there, wide-legged, naked, with a half smile, gosh-that-feels-better-look.  back to the tub, back to the changing table, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.

i checked on him through the night; no poopies and he woke up clean.  so that banana definitely did the trick.  nanas know best.  he had plain toast and applesauce for breakfast and still no business.  i also did some heavy praying last night for a little relief for the bubba.  so that combination should carry me to safety.  i hope. 

jack is back

thank goodness!  like i said before, he rarely gets sick so when he does, it's a little alarming.  he woke this morning, bright and early, around 6 am.  he went back down with some consoling but was up again shortly after at 7... the boy was hungry!  we shared an english muffin, gulped some orange juice and both slept for another 3 hours.  life is good.

he's enjoying his afternoon snooze at the moment and when he wakes, we're headed back over to the duplex.  still a lot of work to do, and i'm fortunate that jackie can keep himself entertained.

  

so sad

man, nothing can make you feel worse than when you have a sick child.  i remember way back when - i would be snuggled up to my mother, battling a headache or a fever, likely moaning, and she would whisper to me, "if i could, i would be sick so you wouldn't have to."  at those moments, i always thought she was nuts, but now i understand.  i wish i could take away jackie's fever and have it myself.  

he started out the day pretty pathetic.  sleeping in until 11:30, i decided to check on him.  when i walked in his room, he was awake but just laying there.  (he usually greets me, standing up, sometimes clapping as i turn the corner to his room.)  i picked him up and could tell he was feverish with the warmth of his cheek to mine.  changing his diaper was torture, the bath that followed wasn't much better, breakfast was practically non-existent, and within 45 minutes, he was sleeping again.  

jackie woke from his nap around 3, i took his temperature again, and it was down to 98.9 from 101.7.  he played briefly but got fussy within the hour.  he had some toast with a side of tylenol and a sippy of water and back down for a snooze.  100.3 was the temp. recorded.

he woke around 6:30 still looking rather glassy-eyed.  he sat in my lap for 15 minutes, munching on ritz crackers while i read a new easter book from grandma d.  i got a few laughs out of him when i got to the "tickle bug" part of the book.  (good pick, grandma!)  he ate 5 bites of his mac-n-cheese, had another dose of tylenol and was sleep before 8:30.  his temp. was up to 100.7 when i put him down.  i usually check on him [once] before i go to sleep, but this evening, i've probably checked on him every 40 minutes!  

i pray a good night's rest brings him peace and relief from mean ol' mr. fever!  i know how much i hate having a fever, and i can only imagine how much of a struggle it is for him.  :(  dada would make it all better, i'm sure.

jack's friend ella

anders and hannah's little one made an appearance at our home a few days ago.  there is about 9 months between these two cuties.  jack was very excited to have a friend to play with - although i think he was a little overwhelming...