Could you Speak up? I can't hear myself think

Ehh? What was that? What did you say? I keep thinking that I'm going deaf. I will probably learn, when my kids are all grow up and gone, that I was never really having problems hearing. It has always been *To Dang Loud* that's all. I wonder if I would be able to understand what is being said better, if it were quieter. I look at my (almost)2, 3 and 4 year-olds, and I see their mouths moving, I hear what I think are words but it makes NO sense. "I wha any" "eese?" "awcorn, oney Oneeeyy!" That is mostly Jacob(almost 3) he is still trying to master the language, he really does pretty well, most of the time. It seems his mouth/brain combo gets tired every once in a while and I feel like I've been bad and I'm being punished and our family's language is being confounded just like at the Tower of Babel. I feel so confused. Caleb(4) would be far more understandable if he would get his thumb out of his mouth while he talked. And Joey, he communicates mostly by facial expression and signs. This is by choice, I'm almost positive. I can just imagine him and Jacob, after we've put them to bed, having the following conversation.(add British accent here) "Oh , I do say, what a day we had," says Jacob. " I quite agree old chap," says Joey "nice work with Mother today. It was marvelous watching the old girl dancing around the kitchen, like a monkey, trying to figure out what we wanted. Don't you think?" "Oh yes, just fabulous." replies Jacob "Tomorrow will be just as fun. I plan on trying another of those screaming tantrums that drives her nutty. Well, goodnight then." "Goodnight, Gove'nor"
OK it's a stretch but, do you ever wonder?

There are times of quiet. You can tell; when everyone has fallen asleep, and the dishwasher isn't running, or the clothes washer or dryer is off and the TV is silent, and mom and dad are too tired to talk, that quiet still exists. I hear those times of quiet and I listen with grateful yet cautioned rest. I have heard, with tired ears the advice of Grandparents and empty-nesters alike, the chaos needs to be enjoyed while it's there, because all too soon it will be gone. So BRING ON THE NOISE !!! BUT COULD SOMEONE GET ME SOME EAR PLUGS?

Good day to ya.
Brother Hugs
Jacob and Joey in April 2007, just before Joey went to TexasChildrens to have his adenoids out.

Porcelain Throne

Houston is typically very humid. We had over 50 inches of rain last year. 50! I guess you can't really call it rain... It buckets. It's not a nice drizzle, shower or sprinkle. It's like standing under a bucket, or a being a sports coach and winning the big game and having a never ending Gatorade thing dumped on your head. That is what rain is like in Texas. However, lately we have had some drier air come through, thanks to the winter cold fronts y'all up North are having to endure (thanks by the way, they give us really nice weather.) So the trampoline likes to conduct electrical experiments with the kids' hair. Here's Joey





Ellie is doing so much better. I still panic every time she coughs, or sleeps quietly. I am constantly watching her. She gives a new definition to "Pretty in Pink" and trust me after waiting so long for her, she has A LOT of pink. And as far as her hair...no she hasn't been on the trampoline. It's all natural.



Three peas in a pod. Jacob, Caleb and Joey, are the three boys I have at home. Caleb will be in Kindergarten next school year. Then I'll just have the two and Ellie at home. What will I do with all that extra time?

POPCORN ROCKS!

So I would like to thank the public school system for re-potty training my kids. I've spent months (which probably calculates to a year or two total with 4 out of 7 successfully potty trained kids) teaching my kids that it's OK to go to the bathroom whenever they need to. During the summer we don't have a problem, but the minute school starts it's "Mom I need to go to the restroom." It was cute at first. Their hands would shoot up in the air and wave around "Mom, mom, can I use the restroom?" My responses have varied throughout each incident. From "OK go" to "Do you need directions?" "I know, you know where the bathroom is, please don't pee on the floor." "We have three of them, you don't need to ask."
Tonight my answer caught me off guard. I had just put Joey in bed and Sariah ran into the little boys room doing the potty dance with the typical "I need to go to the restroom." I was a little irritated because she had to pass the bathroom to get there, and I needed her to be quiet so she didn't wake any of the boys. And what should pop out of my mouth? "I am not a toilet" That was funny to me. I've been a lot of things as a mother: Kleenex, paper towel, burp rag, puke bowl...and you bet I've been peed and pooped on, but I do not believe I'll be adding toilet to the list anytime soon. It's not very flattering.
Good day to ya.

I'm not crazy...Well, maybe just a little

My husband is snoring and so is the baby. So this means that I have a few minutes to dump some things that have been swimming around in my murky watered head. Actually my head contains an office. Not a bright, well lit cheerful office with windows, it's more like a spacious gray broom closet. There are filing cabinets all around; a desk in the middle, with a Rolodex on it; some in-out file shelves and one little trash can, oh and a broom, leaning against one of the really, really tall filing cabinets. The only thing of color, in this space in my head, is the lady that runs this office. She's a fairly short, stout woman with firey red-orange hair, which she always wears up, kinda like Lucy... but not. Some of you may be saying that it's just me, but I'm not that short, and when I lose my baby fat, I'm not that stout, and although my hair does tend to get a little redder each time I dye it (Husband said as he looked at the top of my head "good heaven's Lady look at all those grays" it's time for some color. I'm only 32) The lady is just not me. She does her best to keep me entertained and stay on top of "things to remember" all at the same time. She tries her best to help me remember names and faces-together, we really need to work on that one. Those are the items in the Rolodex. I keep thinking to her that we need to update and go with a more advanced way of doing things, but you know what they say about old dogs. (Now I must pause for a moment and tell y'all that I'm not really crazy. My mother came up with this idea, when I was little, that she had a lady running around in her head trying to recover forgotten information. It was very interesting to me and a few years later I had my own little lady running around in my head. Maybe we're both crazy...crap) There was a TV show on in the late 80's that starred Jason Bateman and others, Sandy Somebody(stupid Rolodex, spin faster lady) I don't remember the name of The lady or the show. BUT the next door neighbor was Mrs. Poole. That's right "the Hogan Family" Edie McClurg...Mrs. Poole. Thank you Google, no thank you Rolodex. Point: the lady in my head reminds me a little of Mrs. Poole. She (in my head) does her best and she must do a fairly decent job because I'm still functioning with 7 kids: three in diapers, under the age of 3, one in potty training, one nursing . "Linus" syndrome (thumb & blanket) -he's the middle child, but more of the oldest of the 4 youngest. "Define yourself. I'm happy or I'm not" He's not the middle-child by one, but he fits that description best, the youngest of the oldest 3 I guess. The Perfect Princess on the verge of hormones(please give me at least 3 more years before it all hits the fan) and the almost TEENAGER, "I'll stare at you because you told me to look at you, but it doesn't mean anything you say will be retained." Oh and don't forget the 2 cats, 1 dog, hamster, and I think there are still live fish somewhere in the house. And my husband, who does a good job taking care of himself, for the most part. When he's home for his three weeks off work, he really does help a lot, but that is a story for a different day. So back to this lady in my head. She balances things quite nicely I suppose. She has taken some things of the "priority" list that I wish she hadn't. Like spelling, and English grammer. Do you see? Grammar. Good heack. And typing has gone out the window. And as far as daily rememberings...( she makes up some really fun words though.) She likes to blame these things on the fact that I'm nursing and my theory stands that breast milk is 50% brain cells, but that can't be the excuse for everything forever? Or can it? I can see it now at my youngest daughter's wedding in another 20 years..."Excuse me, you forgot to: pay the florist, send the invitations, zip up your dress... Oh I did? Silly me, so forgetful. I'm nursing... you know how it is." Think it will work? Yeah, me neither. BUT for now... what was I talking about? Silly me...I'm nursing. 50% brain cells...The lady in my head. nice gal. She does her best to keep things clean, that's why there's a broom and a little trash can. I think we need to get a bigger trash can. I'm not sure what good that would do...once something gets in there it is really hard to throw away. Most of everything gets filed away in those big cabinets. Above all she's really good at taking the blame when things get off course a little. So I appreciate this little character for being a scapegoat and for making the best of whats left of my brain cells. Well, that was fun thanks for tagging along.
Good day to ya.

Hugs and babies

Here is gorgeous Jacob with his kissy lips and killer baby blues. He is known to us as "the Love bug"
So I hope you're not bored and disappointed that I haven't written in a day or two. I (We) have decided to limit my blogging time when my husband is home, so as not to make him feel neglected. We actually got to go on a date last night. My mom-in-law, in spite of being sick, spent her last night here watching our 7 monkeys, who were actually very good for her. Thank you sweet monkeys. My children hate monkeys. I have no idea why. It is old habit for me to refer to them as monkeys, or chickens. Rug-rats and boogers, too. I assure you, they are all terms of endearment. It is actually these monkeys that I would like to talk about.
I have been very fortunate and blessed to have had as many children as I have had pregnancies. While I was pregnant with Monkey #4, I had five friends have miscarriages. I felt guilty because I was still pregnant while these beautiful women around me were experiencing the pain and loss of their much wanted children. My best friend has lost at least 7 of these potential earthly family members, in the 6 years I've known her. It breaks my heart every time.
I have also known people who have lost children who have already made it here. Some have been here for a short stay, some for longer.
And so to these women and others that I do not know... I have this to say...
As I grow older... wiser, and as I listen to my own advice, I have learned from your experiences, your sorrow, your grief, your desire, aching desire to have children. I do not take advantage of your loss. I do not dismiss it, write it off or forget it. I take it to heart. I no longer feel guilty. I feel grateful. Grateful that I have been given charge of these children.Grateful that I have been so fortunate to have had so many. Your lessons have taught me to hug them more...longer and tighter. I stopped grumbling about "being pregnant again" and I have learned to say "thank you" and "Thy will be done."

I have had 2 experiences that may be similar to some of these women. One was with Joey the other was when I was pregnant with Jacob. I was 12 weeks along with Jacob. We had only lived in Texas for 12 weeks. Ironic isn't it? We'll discuss that later. I was at church when I started to bleed. Jason and I grabbed the kids and went to the hospital. We were new and didn't know who to feel comfortable about calling to keep the kids. So he sat in the ER waiting room with monkeys #1-#4, while I went back to see if there was going to be a Durrant baby #5. As I sat alone in that little room, I pleaded with God for the life of that child. I begged to hear a heartbeat. No one was planning on hearing it. But it was there. And I cried. The nurse asked if they were tears of joy. Oh yes, joy and gratitude. I always cry when God answers my prayers in such a miraculous way.
I have a good friend who didn't hear the heartbeat of her, very long awaited, baby boy this week. And all I can do is cry and say I'm sorry...and hug my babies all that much tighter and not take for granted that they are here and healthy.

I thank Heavenly Father everyday for all my babies, be they 3 months or 12 years. I now plead daily for all their lives to be long and happy. (even, and especially, when they drive me crazy.)
I love you all
Good day to ya.

Need a spare key

So today mom(as in me, myself and I all alone)got a little break and went to lunch with my new friend. It was very nice. It doesn't happen very often and I appreciate my husband and mother-in-law for holding the fort down while I was gone. Christmas break has come and gone and school started again today for the three oldest. So when they came home it was back to the same old paper trail game. I get more junk mail from the schools than I do in the actual USPS. And is it common for a 1st and 3rd grader to have more homework than the 7th grader? I didn't think so. Strange. But if Spencer can keep bringing home 100%'s on his finals then I guess I don't care too much about the homework. I decided that pizza would be a good for dinner tonight, considering my great effort I have made in the kitchen for the last few days. OK it hasn't been like huge 6 course meals or anything but I have cooked. So Pizza it was. I asked Jason to call and order. Now before I finish this part of the story I need to explain the relationship between our youngest son, Joseph Hyrum, and his Daddy. When Joey was born at a gestational age of 35 weeks 6 days. He was taken by c-section due to a complete placenta previa, which makes me glad, once again, that I was not a pioneer because I would have died and Joey would have died and my poor husband would have had to cross the plains all alone with 5 kids, then he'd have to find a wife who probably lost her husband and had kids of her own and then they would have had some more and I don't think Jason could handle 20 kids. I just don't. 7 is pushing it. What was I saying? Oh yeah, Joey. So he came a little early. Which wouldn't typically be to huge of an issue but his lungs weren't done cooking and he was, what the hospital staff kept referring to as, a Whimpy White Boy. No racial slams intended, white male babies are not as hearty and strong, as say a female, when it comes to dealing with stress and health problems at the beginning of life. He had TTN which is short for the fancy medical term that basically means fast breathing in preemies. He also had a partially collapsed left lung. So Joey got to spend 8 days in the hospital breathing O2 and having an IV(all over, including his poor little head) and proving that he really wasn't a W.W.B. and that he could hold his own and come home. Which he did. (this whole experience helped with Ellie's little hospital stay)
Now I don't really remember when the bond between father and 5th son became so strong, I suppose it could have started in those times that Daddy watched that little baby in the NICU. Or maybe even before when daddy would yell "Hello baby" as he buried his face in mommy's tummy, or it could have even been before that. But nobody has been as adoring of a daddy as Joey is of his Daddy. This became more and more clear when Jason would be gone for periods of time, like training in the local office for work, and then even more when he started to go offshore for three weeks at a time. When Daddy comes home there is no other. No other person in the world that compares to Daddy. No other that can hold as well as Daddy, hug as well, play as well, fill a bottle as well, feed as well, change a diaper as well...etc. No one is more fun to follow or bother while they are using the potty. Daddy is the end all to Joey. And Mommy doesn't hold a candle to Daddy according to Joey. And Mommy cannot hug Daddy or kiss Daddy or have any contact with Daddy while Joey is watching. He will push and scowl and point that "no,no" finger at Mommy for even looking at Daddy. We have learned that Jason belongs to Joey and no one else. He becomes 'just one of the others' when Daddy is gone. He is very sweet and not clingy at all. The saddest thing is when it is time to take Jason to the airport to fly to work. Joey knows that the airport means Daddy is leaving. When the car door opens, the tears start falling, it breaks my heart. But when Daddy comes home it's time for some serious "follow daddy wherever he goes." It all sounds very sweet, but imagine the other side. Jason has a constant shadow... that isn't always quiet, and sometimes can be quite demanding. And sometimes you need some quiet, for example when you are trying to order pizza for dinner. So Jason, in a rather irritated, "I'm tired of being followed" fashion, retreated to the closest place where he could shut the door and have some quiet to make the order, this happened to be the garage. Joey was shut out and away from Daddy. You can see his little mind saying "This will not do!" (he doesn't actually talk much yet. I'm waiting for him to pull a 'Caleb' any day now) he proceeded to bang the door and cry and yell. I know he wished he were a little bigger so he could get that dang doorknob mastered. He settled down after fiddling for a while and walked away. I continued to feed the baby and talk to my mom-in-law. A little while later the cell phone rang. I asked Spencer to answer it. He had a strange little conversation that consisted of a few "yeahs" and "uh huhs" and an "OK." Then he hung up the cell phone, walked over to the garage door and unlocked it. Jason came in and didn't say a word, he just quietly went and picked Joey up. They had a quiet little conversation. I don't know what was said. I was laughing too hard, I couldn't hear anything if I tried.
Good day to ya!

Nothing but spit

Well Hell-o
Not much has happened in my life since bringing that beautiful baby home. My mother-in-law has come to visit and make sure for herself that everyone is OK now. It's nice to have her. I have good in-laws. Not the traditional annoying in-laws. I guess that's a very fortunate thing considering the fact that I met my mother-in-law the day before Jason and I got married. Crazy huh? Now my father in-law...that's a different story. I didn't meet him for at least two months after the wedding. This was probably a good thing... He's a sailor. No, really. In every sense of the word. He has a big heart, which is often over shadowed by his bigger personality. I really do appreciate him. He loves his family. This is good...He licked me on the top of my head once. Enough said.
So life really has been quiet. Ellie is doing very well. Jason took her to the Doc on Friday. He said unless things get worse, he won't need to see her until her well child 4month check-up. Hooray! ...Hooray is a good word. It's one of my favorites right now. It can be used in so many venues, with so many different emphasis...esises (Sorry for the spit). ie. HooRay, hooRAY, HOOray, my favorite HOORAY, and the ever sarcastic hooray. That last one must be accompanied by the proper teenage rolling of the eyes. According to my mother, I was really good at that. I'm learning as a parent of an almost teenager that it comes with the territory. I think the art of eye rolling comes more naturally to some teenagers than others. I have known people that have had to practice in the mirror. You think I'm kidding. It wasn't just eye rolling. It was face making and hair flipping. (Sigh) those were the days. I didn't need to practice. I was a natural. I am grateful for all of those crazy things I remember about growing up. It really helps me relate to my kids. I can empathize not just sympathize.
Well I know things won't be quiet for long so I will be hitting the hay. More adventures to come...they always do...HOORAY!
Good day to ya!

Hospital

So Christmas came and went. It was fabulous. The following Thursday baby Ellie had a gurglie cough(apparently gurglie isn't a real word, but that's OK. How boring would our language be if we didn't get to make up our own words? I have also learned that nurses make up words too, like guncky and thingy when they chart). I wasn't terribly concerned at first having just gone through a cold with Caleb, Jacob and Joey. I have a nebulizer at home and I'm not afraid to use it. So on Friday and Saturday I spent a lot of time watching Ellie cough and sleep, a lot of sleeping. Saturday around noonish(again not a real word) I had Sariah, Caleb and Ellie at the store. Her cough just sounded icky. It wasn't happening very frequently, but when it did it was juicy gross. She didn't have a runny nose or a fever, just that cough. My 'mommy senses' kicked in and said that we ''needed to go home now." So we did. And I watched that baby breathe all through the night. I kept debating whether or not it was time to go to the hospital. It's not an easy task with 6 other kids and dad working offshore to just up and take someone to the ER. Luckily I have a 12-year-old who could handle things until the cavalry could arrive. I was still swishing this around in my head at 4:30am, when I actually got dressed to take her. I was still hesitant though. The coughing was so intermittent, and I hate the ER. So I gave her another breathing treatment and it worked for three hours. At 8am I called the Dr.'s answering services (it was Sunday) The Dr. on call said to bring her in. That's all I needed to hear. So Spencer held down the fort until my sister got to my house to lend a hand.

At the ER it wasn't a terrible rush rush thing like it has been before when I have taken in other kids with breathing problems. Then again there was only one other person in at that time. And the baby seemed to be fairly OK. So we got in the back and these were her symptoms: a gurglie cough, not eating well, sleeping tons, rib retractions(where the ribs suck in when she breathes) and grunting(making a vocal sound with every breath) these last two symptoms are, what we later learned , signs of respiratory distress. This also goes along with nostril flaring, which we saw a lot of later. The ER team did a breathing treatment, gave her a shot of steroids(I know the baseball players would be jealous, just kidding) and took a chest X-ray and sucked some snot to do an RSV test, which came back positive. A 2 1/2 month old with RSV is not a good thing. After all this and a second breathing treatment the retractions didn't subside enough to appease the ER doc. So he called the on-call pediatrician and they both agreed that baby Ellie should be admitted to the hospital. When I entered that building the last thing I expected was to not leave a hospital room for 58 straight hours. My only rest came when Jason came home from work early(he wasn't supposed to be home till Friday) and stayed the night with her Tuesday.

The first thing that had to happen was to get an IV in. They tried her poor little hand first and then actually got it in her foot. The whole time her little cry sounded like she was saying "Ow Ow" sad, isn't it. This followed with lots and lots of time in her cold mist oxygen tent, breathing treatments every four hours, and snot sucking which, at first, she didn't seem to have much of, snot that is, and of course the IV fluid to keep her hydrated because she wasn't eating.

Since it was Sunday(December 30th) I had to wait until church got out for people to respond to my messages for help. But as soon as it was over we had an influx of help like no other. It was awesome to have felt very alone for one minute and in the next have five people crammed into our hospital room. And that was just for a blessing and to see what I needed. There were more people working on the outside to get some of my kids to one place to stay, and the rest to others. Everything was taken care of so that my focus could now be on taking care of that baby.
I had kept in contact with my husband that entire day. He works at night, and so to wake him as little as possible, I did my best to only call him when I had a complete picture of what was going on. This whole thing was difficult for him because he really wanted to be there for us and to give her a blessing and all the daddy love. The Captain and Tool Pusher on the rig told him that there was a spot on the helicopter the next morning if he needed to come home. After a very stressful night for both of us, we decided that it would be best for daddy to come home.

Later that day her regular Dr. came in and told me the results of the X-ray. Along with RSV she had pneumonia. Unhappy news. But it just meant that we would have antibiotics via the IV for the next 24-48 hours. And some blood would be drawn. My Relief Society President came in while they were attempting to get the blood and got to witness the vampire-ism. They were actually very nice and it was nice to have Sister Stephens there for support.

During the first 48 hours there was a lot of waiting and watching. I did fine during the days, it was at night around 8pm when everything was quiet that I would stand there and cry...just a little, I didn't want anyone to see... a mommy must be brave. I literally slept with one eye open and one ear tuned in. I kept watching the pulse oximeter constantly, making sure that every time the alarm went off it was just because she was moving her foot and not because her oxygen saturation went too low. This happened all night long, Sunday and Monday.
Monday night was New Years Eve. My celebration looked something like this:
















YUP that's it.










Ellie's sat.'s seemed to be maintaining well so the nurse an I decided that we could turn the monitor off for a little while so I could get some sleep. After she had a breathing treatment at 4:00am(which I napped through) I looked at her, she looked very pale and I got a little panicked. I reached up under the tent and picked up her very cold little hand to see if I could get a startle reaction out of her. I dropped her hand and it fell, there was no startle. I jumped up, sat her up and started rubbing her chest, she was fine, just in a very deep sleep... I guess. Needless to say I turned that monitor back on and didn't stop watching it until I left the hospital.

Jason came to relieve me Tuesday night. I was extremely grateful. I needed to get some 'normal' sleep which consisted of Jacob coming in to sleep with me and then waking up at 7am to "watch the dinosaurs. Jason had a good night with Ellie. I don't know if he has impeccable timing or if it's the fact that he has the daddy touch that makes things better but she had amazing improvement over night. Not to mention the other breathing treatment medication that was used to really get the crap in her lungs moving. Maybe it was all three. But things improved so much that after a trial off the O2 and keeping her saturation levels up, with four different prescriptions, Elizabeth got to come home Wednesday, January 2.


This is what mom looks like after not sleeping for 5 days

Thank you to all who helped. And thank you to all who prayed. Heavenly Father was listening.