Vaccinated

Amid all the H1N1 flurry, I kept going back and forth between vaccinating and not vaccinating. It made me nervous that the vaccine had been creating so quickly. Had there been time to adequately test it? On the other hand, I'm terrified at the possibility of the girls getting that particular strain of flu. One of two theories is true when it comes to the girls' immune systems. Either their immune systems are weaker due to their prematurity and overall sickness at birth or their immune systems are stronger due to the duress under which they were born and the following months of ailment after ailment their systems were forced to fend off. I'd like to think their little bodies are stronger after what they've been through, but who's to say for sure? In the end, it was a conversation with the girls' neonatologist, Dr. Lawson, that clenched it for me. When I asked what he recommended, he responded, without a second's hesitation, "Get it." That's all I needed to hear. Dr. Lawson got us through the girls' hospital stays; we trusted him with their lives, so his opinion carries a lot of weight.


Once the decision to get the vaccine was made, it became a matter of where to get it. Despite watching their pediatrician's website, we missed securing some of the initial delivery of the vaccine. When I called to make an appointment, it was all spoken for. We considered taking the girls to one of the various clinics that have been offered all over town by the city on the weekends, but Jeff argued that the girls would likely be exposed to more in line waiting for the vaccine than if we carried on as usual and waited for more to arrive at Dr. Mayberry's office. I agreed.

Tuesday of last week, I called Dr. Mayberry's office for a completely unrelated reason, but decided to ask about getting on a waiting list for the vaccine while I was at it. It just so happened that they had received a new shipment that morning. After finding out there was a lack of afternoon appointments, I picked the girls up from school and took them to finally get their vaccines. The fear of them becoming sick, and God forbid, something horrible happening to one of them after everything they (and we) have already been through had been gnawing at me for too long. Inaction isn't something I handle well, so I can't explain adequately the relief I felt at finally doing something. The girls are old enough and healthy enough to get the mist version of the vaccine, so our visit was quick and painless. They took their squirts up the nose like pros and delighted in the Dora stickers they were able to proudly sport when they returned to school. And I delighted in the fact that I could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Rise and Shine...

...and go back to bed! Before Daylight Savings, Cadie woke –like clockwork—every morning at 7:30. I'm fine with 7:30. Since Daylight Savings, though, Cadie has woken every morning promptly at 6:45. Really? 6:45? I had a hard enough time getting up that early when I was teaching; why would I get up that early now that I don't have to? Mind you, my bedtime is often well past midnight, so don't look on me as a whiner just yet. I'm a night owl; always have been, likely always will be. Cadie will come around, eventually. Until then, she'll just have to settle for cuddling up with me first thing in the morning, and finding a way to drift back to sleep for at least another 45 minutes...or more.

The Nebulizer

A couple of weeks ago, after what had seemed like days and days of coughing, my worried mother brain couldn't take it anymore, so we took the girls in for a check-up with Dr. Mayberry. Fears of H1N1 swarmed my brain. I was more concerned for Maddie, who'd been hacking and rattling for at least a week despite daily doses of doctor prescribed Benadryl. After the exam, though, it turned out Maddie was perfectly fine, just fighting off some little bug. Cadie, on the other hand, having just begun some slight wheezing that morning, would need to be checked to make sure there wasn't an infection in her lungs.

So, we headed off to x-ray. Distracted by stickers depicting various beloved characters like Hannah Montana, Mr. Incredible, and Spongebob, Cadie stood dutifully still as the tech took a couple of pictures of her lungs. Dr. Mayberry reported that all was well and her lungs were clear, but she wanted to get rid of the wheeze, so she prescribed some breathing treatments. She asked if we still had the nebulizer we'd gotten when Cadie had had pneumonia last winter. Turns out, that nebulizer was meant to permanently be ours after a 10-month period of rent-to-own with our insurance company. I'd misunderstood and returned it as soon as Cadie had recovered, no one from the medical supply company finding the need to correct me. Dr. Mayberry sent us home with a brand new one and with instructions not to give it back this time.

Cadie responded to the breathing treatments beautifully, as she always has. Though it's been years since I've felt the fear of one of the girls being in mortal danger, it's been such a comfort to know that nebulizer rests comfortably in the girls' bathroom cabinet, a generous supply of albuterol nestled just one shelf above. This evening, after a day of raking leaves and playing in the unseasonably warm weather, I noticed Cadie had an "almost wheeze". How convenient it was to pull the nebulizer from its perch and treat the condition right away. Cadie has become so comfortable with the treatments (though she's only received a handful), that she fell asleep just a couple of minutes into tonight's treatment, curled up on my lap in the rocking chair. I'll always be so grateful that out of all the things she suffered during her hospital stay and since, we can always count on the amazing response she has to the nebulizer and the medicine it provides.

The Hair Girls

Yesterday was quite the day.

The girls spent the better part of the morning playing "beauty shop". At one point, Maddie even announced that they would now be known as "the hair girls". They ran around the house with my eyelash curler, pretending to cut one another's hair and giggling as they huddled up in the corner of our bathroom, grooming one another.

Later, that afternoon, as I cleaned up in the kitchen, I could hear the girls in our bedroom chattering and playing. At one point, Maddie announced, "Mommy, we're cutting our hair!" Of course, I immediately assumed they had once again taken up with my eyelash curler. A little voice in my head questioned that assumption, though, so I headed back to our room, just to be sure. This is what I found:

The carnage was unbearable. There, on the floor, laid the remains of Maddie's beautiful blond curls and Cadie's pretty brown locks. They froze at my gasp, scissors still in hand. They were caught in the act, although it was immediately obvious they had no idea they were doing something wrong. I truly believe they thought they were pretending, though the snippets of hair should have been a good clue to them that they weren't. I couldn't do anything but laugh. There was no undoing what they'd done, and there was no sense in punishing them because the tears and uncontrollable sobs that followed after I explained to and showed them what they had done to their hair were punishment enough. They each spent the rest of the day randomly stating, "I'm not going to play with scissors anymore because I'll get in trouble."

When Jeff got home, he didn't immediately notice their hair, but the pile of their locks on our bedroom floor must have clued him into the fact that something had gone down. His response? Uproarious laughter. Maddie later explained to him that she now had hair just like his.

Cadence

Madeline (clearly the worse of the two)

After the initial shock, I was able to survey the damage and realized it wasn't all that bad. Because they were cutting one another's hair and not their own, they'd limited the carnage to the backs of their heads, not the front or tops. Bangs and roots were left intact, thank goodness. Although I've been trimming the girls' hair since they were born, there was no way I was going to even attempt to salvage what was left, so first thing this morning, I made an appointment for them with my hairstylist, explaining that I wasn't expecting a miracle, just improvement as much as possible.

So, this afternoon, we headed out to Owasso on a recovery mission. The girls were a little hesitant after yesterday's debacle, but luckily, they have gone with me to get my haircut for months now, so it wasn't completely foreign to them. Laura was able to do more than just salvage what was left. By some miracle, she was able to make both of them look pretty darn cute, a feat especially impressive with Maddie's hair as she definitely suffered the worse of the two.

And, proving that I'm just about the most awesome mom ever, because the girls did so well getting their hair "fixed", I even took them for an ice cream afterwards!

What do you think of the new do's?

Madarazzi

Maddie has the photography bug. A couple months back, she managed to get a hold of Grana's point and shoot, and she just hasn't been able to get enough of it since. She even tries to handle my monster cameras (to which I respond, "Ahh! No! Put that down!")

Check out some of her "work" below.

Bookworms

For those of you who know me well, you know my love for literature. I love it all; young adult, children's, classics, fantasy. So, my literary heart just swells with pride when I see the girls cuddle up with a book, reading in their own little ways, seeming to love something just as much as I do. And, just like me, the girls don't seem to discriminate. Their tastes vary, but they definitely have their favorites:

Where's Waldo? – We spent a good three weeks "reading" this book every night (and sometimes earlier during that same day). We've gotten to the point where the girls don't even have to think about where Waldo is hiding. They simply take turns, "Cadie's turn" then "Maddie's turn", pointing straight to Waldo without a second's hesitation. What's neat about this book, though, is that it's one of the first printings circa 1989, a copy that I grew up with.

The Napping House – We went through a phase of reading this book every night before bed. The girls grew so accustomed to reading it, they began reciting the pages while I read, occasionally helping me with the self-imposed sound effects.

The Goodnight Train – Another book that rotates through our bedtime routine. This one always took longer than it should have because the girls insisted on pointing out various pictures, including the mermaid perched on a rock, applying her night cream. This book will always be special to me because it combines Cadie's love for trains and the moon.

Olivia & Madeline – Ages ago, the girls' godparents, Mollie and Scuba, bought a book for the girls in which the title included their name. In Cadence's case, there aren't many books with "Cadence" in the title, so her middle name sufficed. These books are fun and entertaining, with great artwork and easy to follow stories. Now, after reading through them several times, the girls sit down and "read" them by themselves, often relating exact lines and parts of the stories.

There Was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly – We actually have two variations of this book. I'm quite fond of the second one because it includes the line, "popped open her throat and swallowed a goat!" The girls and I have a great time "reading" this one, using silly voices and embracing our lower registers.

I Love You, Stinky Face – Quite possibly my favorite one out of the bunch, I love this book because it essentially tells of a mother's unconditional love for her child.

"But Mama, but Mama, what if I were a super smelly skunk, and I smelled so bad that my name was Stinky Face?"

"Then I'd plunk you in a bubble bath! But if you still smelled stinky, I wouldn't mind. I'd whisper in your ear, 'I love you, Stinky Face.'"

Candle's Bible for Toddlers & The One Year Devotions for Preschoolers – The girls tote these books around just about everywhere. As part of our bedtime routine, we read a bible story or two, then the day's devotional. Now, as a rule, we have to allow for at least five minutes or so for the girls to "read" from both books. I smile every time I watch Cadie, her nose in the Bible book, "reading" about Damuel (Samuel) and Noah. And Maddie is always very serious about making sure she reads from the correct page of the daily devotional. I love that the girls don't feel threatened by the word of God, but rather they embrace it. What makes these books even better? They were a gift for their 3rd birthdays from their good friend, Grace.

I know we have years and years of good books ahead of us. I couldn't have been more proud the other day, when standing in the middle of one of the toy aisles at Target, Madeline said, "Mom, why don't we go look at the books for our prize instead? I think that would be better." Wise, choice, Madeline. Wise choice.

Room to Love

Last Wednesday, Jeff and I were extended the privilege of attending the dedication and grand opening of the new NICU in the Children's Hospital at Saint Francis. We had every intention of taking the girls with us, but had to leave them at home when they woke that morning with fever and a cough. Earlier in October, we were honored to be invited for a private tour of the new unit (girls in tow that time) while being interviewed by the Tulsa World. At a loss for any other description, I call the new unit "NICU heaven". There really aren't words. I know from a medical professional's perspective, the new unit, spread over 30,000 square feet on the top floor of the new Children's Hospital, poses a myriad of obstacles and adjustments, but from a parent's perspective, the new unit is a dream. This unit boasts private rooms, with several big enough to accommodate multiples. For us, that would have meant Cadence and Madeline being together for the entire duration of their stay, rather than jumping around the old unit when beds/isolettes were available. There are windows in well over half of the rooms, allowing the comfort of natural light to creep in, something we saw only when we left the old unit. Each room has a couch of its very own, and even a rocking chair. In the old unit, parents had to "fight" over rockers for Kangaroo Care, while dodging bulky equipment like ventilators and portable X-ray machines. In the new unit, rooms are equipped with small fridges, cabinets, a sink, and mirror. I imagine what it would have been like to store breast milk for the girls in the fridge, their home-washed clothes in the cabinets, and having a sink and mirror to freshen up on occasion. There is even a curtain that can be pulled to close out the rest of the world in times of privacy like breastfeeding for the first time, which I did behind a make-shift screen in the middle of a very busy EOPC unit. The sheer amount of privacy possible is incomprehensible to me, when we spent 105 days doing our best to respect the privacy of other babies and their families around us.

I don't regret any moment or experience we had in the EOPC, good or bad. Those moments led us to where we are today and I wouldn't change that for the world. But, I can't help but think of how much different our experience would have been had we been visitors to the new, beautiful unit that rests five floors above the Saint Francis grounds. We certainly have no plans to be parents of patients in the new facility, but as strange as it sounds, I can't stop myself from being thrilled and optimistic for the families of the tiny patients that now inhabit the new EOPC. I can't ever say enough how impactful the staff at Saint Francis was and has been on our lives; the quality of the facility finally matches the quality of the staff. And, in an ideal world, no hospital would have need for a NICU, but if there are fragile and sick babies that come into this world, I can't think of a better place for them to be.

Escape Plan

I'm never sure of what is going through Madeline's head. What I wouldn't give to spend a few minutes in her thoughts. I'm sure it's fascinating. Lately, she's taken to asking one particular question over and over: "How are we going to get out of here?" The strangest thing is she isn't scared or concerned; there's no worry or anxiety behind the question. She just wants to know. When we went to Disney on Ice during the fair, the first thing she asked was, "Mommy, how are we all going to get out of here?" She didn't comment on the ice, the balloons and cotton candy. She didn't admire the enormous banner painted with the faces of Disney characters she loves and adores. Instead, she wanted to know our escape plan. The only thing I can figure is that they have recently talked about firemen in school. Maybe the talk of firemen led to a discussion of getting out of the house in case of fire? We were always taught in school that every family should have an escape plan in place in case of a house fire. And if Maddie does anything, she pays attention. It may not seem like she is, but I am telling you now, that girl hears everything! Every time she asks, I try and give her a calm and logical answer. So far, that seems to be good enough for her.

The Secret

Every night, when we put the girls to bed, I ask them if they want to hear a secret. Without fail, of course, they say, "Yes!" So, I lean down and whisper in their ear, "Did you know you're my favoritest Madde/Cadie in the whole world?" They always smile. Yesterday, after I had been gone most of the day for photo shoots, Maddie came up to me and said, "Mommy, do you wanna know a secret?" I replied, "Of course!" Then, she leaned in and whispered in my ear, "You're the greatest Mommy in the whole world." I looked at her sweet face, said "thank you", and tried my darnedest not to cry.