"Did It Hurt Me To Be Born?"

Yesterday Catherine looked through her baby scrapbooks.  In it we have a few pictures of her birth, which was by c-section.  All of the shots are somewhat vague and you have to know what is happening to understand the pictures.  But they got Catherine's little mind working.

She asked me if I was asleep or awake during the surgery (she has had surgeries herself when she was awake, sedated, or completely anesthetized - so she knows that surgery can be performed in a number of ways).  I told her I was awake but the doctors had given me some strong "pain go-away medicine."

She asked me what I did during the surgery.  I told her that I listened to the doctors and nurses talking to each other.  Then, I listened to her (Catherine) cry as soon as she was born.

When I told her she cried when she was born, she gasped and asked "Did it hurt me to be born?  Why did I cry?  Did I get a boo-boo coming out of your tummy?"

I had never thought that my answer would have elicited that kind of a reaction.  Fortunately, I was able to think on my feet and reassure her that all was well.  I said "No you were not hurt.  You just didn't know any words yet because you had just been born.  But, you wanted to let all of us know you were there.  It was your way of saying "Hi!" 

This seemed like a logical explanation to her, so I was relieved.  I wasn't ready to tell her that less than half of the children with her condition survive to birth and that her cries were joyous sounds.  I wasn't ready to tell her that I knew that she would be taken immediately across town via ambulance to a children's hospital, leaving me in the birthing hospital for 48 hours by myself (Robby went with her in the ambulance).  I wasn't ready to tell her that another half of the babies with her condition do not survive the removal of the tumor.  I wasn't ready to tell her of my very real fear that "motherhood" to me would consist merely of hearing my baby cry and then lying in a bed across town while my child was cared for my nurses and then died. 

Instead I was able to pacify her curiosity with the explanation that she simply didn't know any words yet, being only 10 seconds old.

Will She Come Back?

We went to my father's house for Easter dinner.  For several days that week, we had been talking about the Easter story with the girls.  We explained Palm Sunday, the Last Supper, the washing of the feet, the crown of thorns, the nailing on the cross, Jesus' death, and the empty tomb. 

During dinner, Catherine asked where my mother was.  I told her that she died. 

Catherine asked "Why?"  I didn't want to say that my mother had died of cancer, because I don't want Catherine to think that cancer equals death.  I want her to believe that she will be fine even though she had cancer.

So I had to think of an answer on the fly, at the dinner table.  I said "It was her time."

Catherine said "OK."  Than she paused for a moment and said "Will she come back like Jesus did?"

Wow.  I guess she was paying attention to our Easter lessons.  I answered her question with "No, sweetie.  Only Jesus can come back to life after dying."

With a child-like faith, Catherine said "OK."  And our Easter dinner resumed.

Did It Hurt?

Last week Catherine and I sat on the couch, looking at her baby book.  She saw the first picture (except for ultrasounds) which was ever taken of her.  It is the traditional picture of a gowned doctor holding a naked, slimy baby up in the air.  Underneath Catherine's naked body you can see in the picture some of my torso, opened for the c-section.

Catherine pointed to my torso and asked what that was.  I said it was my tummy.  She asked "How did they get me out of your tummy?"  It is so precious when you just know her little mind is working! 

I was really glad at this point that I had had a c-section.  I think a vaginal delivery would have been much harder to explain to a five year old.  Thinking honesty was the best policy, I said "Well, the doctors cut a big hole in my tummy and took you out.  Then they sewed the hole back up."

Catherine looked at the picture of my torso again.  She looked at my tummy.  She put her hand on her own tummy.  Then she looked at me and asked "Did it hurt, Mommy?"

Should I tell her the truth?  That the doctors had stuck a needle in my spine and temporarily deadened my whole body?  That I could barely move for the next few days?  That I popped Percocet for two weeks? 

I figured that would be too much information for her right now.  Plus, I didn't want her to think she caused me any pain or feel guilty about being born.  So, I said "It hurt a tiny little bit, sweetie.  But it was totally worth it, because now I have you." 

Catherine smiled at me, leaned her cheek against my arm and quietly said "Thank you, Mommy."  How sweet is that?  There are certain conversations I have with my children which I want to remember forever.  This is one of them.

Swinging

I remember Catherine's two year old check-up very well, even though it was over three years ago.  The pediatrician asked me if Catherine could pump herself on a swing.  I was shocked and saddened because Catherine was no where close at that time to pumping herself on a swing.  At that time I didn't think she even knew she should try to pump.

It was a humbling moment for me, when I was confronted with the reality that my child had developmental delays.  Since that time we have dealt with so much I no longer thought about her swinging.  She loves to swing and I just walk out to our swingset and push her.

Yesterday I sent the girls out on the deck to play with our sand table and the water tub.  I stayed in and cleaned the kitchen.  When I was done, I went out to check on them.  I was shocked to see Catherine was not on the deck.  She was down on our playground, swinging.  She had managed to get herself up in the bucket swing, get it buckled, and had pumped herself to swinging.  All by herself.  I almost started crying.  I was so impressed.

I said "Catherine, look at you!"   She said "Mommy, you should clap for me!  I am swinging all by myself!"  Of course, I clapped. 

Now I can stay on the deck while Catherine plays on the swing all by herself.  It is so awesome. If only Sabrina can figure out how to pump a swing by herself ...

Toddler Humor

Recently Catherine has become a comedian. Well, an aspiring comedian. I assume her classmates tell each other jokes at school and that is where she has learned the "art" of joke-telling. What is interesting is that she knows the technicalities of telling a joke but has not developed a sense of humor yet. Her favorite joke-type is the knock-knock joke. Here are some examples:

Catherine: Knock knock!
Me: Who's there?
Catherine: Snow!
Me: Snow who?
Catherine: Snow White! (followed by uproarious laughter from her)

Catherine: Knock knock!
Me: Who's there?
Catherine: Pepperoni!
Me: Pepperoni who?
Catherine: Pepperoni pizza!! (followed by massive giggles)

These jokes are so "funny" Catherine will tell them 5-10 times every day, cracking herself and her sister up every time.

Wow! She Said That!

I am still a young mother, with only a little over 5 years under my belt. But, I tend to feel overconfident and think I am ready for anything. Then my confidence is shattered when something happens which shocks me and completely catches me off guard.

The other day while we were driving, Catherine asked me "Where is God?"

I knew there is no way I could explain the concept of omnipresence to a five year old, so I said "He lives in heaven, sweetie."

Catherine's response was a dramatic "Oh man!," showing complete disappointment as only a small child can. I thought she was going to start crying.

I asked her why it bothered her that God lived in heaven.

Still with a disappointed tone of voice, she said "I want Him to live in my heart!"

Remember that I was driving a car at the time. I mistakenly thought we had several more years before she would have any chance at understanding the plan of salvation. So, I had so far put zero effort into trying to figure out how we would talk with her about these issues. I was completely unprepared.

I was shocked that she even knew the phrase "live in my heart." I assume they taught her this in church, because I don't think we have talked about this with her. We pray to God with her, but I have always doubted that she knew who God was. We have taught her some of the concrete Bible stories, but have not gotten deep with her.

She still seemed upset, so I told her that when she was ready God could come live in her heart.

That night Robby and I told her that we need to start talking with Catherine about her salvation. A friend of ours evangelizes to children, so we asked her to speak with Catherine. Unfortunately, the afternoon when we were able to meet with our friend didn't work well because Catherine was completely unfocused. She wanted to play more than listen to a theological discussion. But, at least we laid some groundwork.

We described Jesus taking the penalty for us as concretely as possible. I said "What if Sabrina disobeys Mommy. Instead of Sabrina getting spanked, you get spanked instead." Catherine's eyes bugged out, then teared up, said "no," and started rubbing her bottom with her hand. So I think she got the concept.

We tried to explain what faith and belief are, but I don't think she got it. I need to figure out better ways to teach her those concepts.

We'll keep trying!

Pledging to Publix

Yesterday as we were walking in the parking lot, Catherine asked me where we were going. I pointed toward the big sign on the store and said "Publix - see the sign."

What happened next made me chuckle.

Catherine stopped walking and said "Oh wait." She then put her hand on her heart and said "I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America. And to Publix, for which we stand ..."

I guess that is a reasonable mistake for a kindergartner to make ...

A Post Worth Reposting

A dear 6 year old friend of ours has been in ICU fighting her her life and today is the second anniversary of Sophia's death at age 4. Brain tumors suck. So, I have been emotional this week and have spent a lot of time reading past blog posts and scrapbooks.

One of my all time favorite posts is when Catherine had a fit over something. She was sitting at our coffee table and Robby was on the couch with his camera. The fit only lasted a minute or two, but Robby took a series of shots. Oh, the drama of a toddler!! The expressions!

Here and here are the original posts. The progression through her fit is hysterical ...

Mommy!! Come Here Quick!!

Tonight while the girls were brushing their teeth in the bathroom, I went down the hall to our office to file some stuff. I heard Catherine screaming her head off for me with the tone of voice that indicated her need was urgent: "Mommy!! Come Here Quick!"

So I ran down the hall into the bathroom. She was standing on her stool, toothbrush in hand, pointing to the floor. With a huge grin on her face she shouted "Look, Mommy! My milk tube and bag looks like Mickey Mouse!"

I looked at the floor, and found this:

What an awesome moment. While we were in Disney World, we told the girls that there would be Mickey Mouse face & ears everywhere. The girls made a game out of pointing them out to us everywhere they saw them. We heard "I see Mickey Mouse" several times a day.

But this "appearance" of Mickey Mouse was completely random. Catherine had fallen asleep downstairs at about 6 pm, so I went ahead and started her overnight feeds while she slept on the couch. This was one of those nights when I was reminded that even though we are in remission and all seems well now, Catherine is still a sick little girl.

Sabrina was full of energy: making me a 27 course Play-doh dinner, talking up a storm, and running back and forth between the Play-Doh table and me on the couch. Sabrina needed no speech therapy, physical therapy, or other such interventions. She just thrived on her own.

Catherine, with all the interventions, is still fatigued and weak. Awesome and wonderful, but physically delayed. I do treasure laying on the couch with her, even while she is sleeping.

When it was time to actually go to bed, I carried her upstairs, with her feeding tube, bag, and pump attached. This woke her up, so I stood her on the stool in the bathroom so she could brush her teeth. I just casually, without even looking, placed the feeding stuff on the floor and walked out.

It was completely unintentional that the tube would loop in two symmetrical circles evenly spaced above the bag. Some may consider it a completely random event, meaning nothing. I think it was God's way of providing a moment of joy in Catherine's evening. It reminded me of how observant Catherine is and the value of seemingly minuscule details in life. Wow!

Midnight!!

My kids love pretend play. I assume that is normal at this age. They change into princess costumes every day as soon as they get home. We have been successful at leveraging this for behavior modification (we threaten to take away a costume if they disobey).

They hold tea parties all the time, where they set up tables and pour each other pretend tea and eat pretend cookies. They also hold pretend dances: curtsying and spinning around the house.

Lately they have started a new game which they have either gotten from a friend or made up on their own. One of them will yell “It’s midnight!” Both of them will run to their bedroom and hop in their beds.

I am considering leveraging this game in some way for behavior modification.

My Favorite ...

As long as I have been a mother, I have always been very concerned that my children know without a shadow of a doubt that I love them. So, I would tell Catherine all the time "I love you" and "You're my favorite daughter."

When Sabrina came along, I had to amend what I said. I couldn't say that Catherine was my "favorite daughter" and Sabrina was just "my daughter." So I started calling them by their ages: Catherine is my favorite five year old, Sabrina is my favorite two year old.

The other day Catherine asked "When I turn six will I be your favorite six-year-old?" I said "Yes, of course." She replied "And when Sabrina turns three she will be your favorite three-year-old?"

I had to chuckle because she is on to me ... she has figured out my system!

The Bible

We take Catherine to church twice a week, almost every week. On Sundays she attends an hour of Sunday School and an hour of "Noise," which is a worship service for kindergarten through second graders. On Wednesday evenings she attends an hour of choir and an hour of Mission Friends, where they supposedly teach her about missionaries throughout the world.

I never know if she is learning anything or not. Catherine rarely tells me what she does while at church. She does do some semblance of a craft almost every time.

However, recently I have come to believe that Catherine is really learning stuff at church. I assume all small children are like this, but when Catherine gets a song in her head, she sings it out loud for two or three hours.

Last week she sang the following: "I stand alone on the Word of God, the B-I-B-L-E, yes that's the book for me." (Or something like that)

Yesterday she sang "What a friend we have in Jesus, all our sins and griefs to bear. What a privilege to carry every thing to God in prayer." She wanted to sing more of the song, but neither Robby nor I could remember the rest of it. Still, it was precious to hear her sing an old hymn!

I think it is also interesting that Catherine seems to think that the Bible is not a book. A few weeks ago she asked me what the sign for Bible is and I showed her the sign for book (which she already knew). She said "No, that is the sign for book. I want the sign for Bible." I tried to explain that the Bible is a book, a special book. She still seemed unsatisfied, so I promised to look up the sign for Bible for her. (I have to confess that I have become distracted and have forgotten to do that so far.)

Last night when we put her to bed Catherine asked for a book to read. I walked over to the book case and, without looking, just grabbed a book and handed it to her. She gave it back to me and said "That is not a book Mommy, that's the Bible!"

It is neat to me that at such a tender young age Catherine already seems to hold the Bible in esteem. I am also humbled because we have really not spent a lot of time teaching her Bible stories and spiritual concepts. I need to get moving on that!

Crisis Averted

Every Wednesday we go to church for a fellowship dinner and bible study. The girls go to choir and "mission friends" class. They love it and we love it. We always try to sit at our favorite table - which is right near the bathroom. That way, the girls can go by themselves to the bathroom while we eat.

Last week while we were there Sabrina was in the bathroom for a few minutes by herself. I went in to check on her. She was in the middle stall and there were two adult women in there too, waiting for the other stalls to become available.

I asked Sabrina if she needed any help. She said yes, so I said "OK, let me in and I will help you." I watched through the crack between the door and the stall frame as Sabrina hopped off the toilet, with her jeans and panties around her ankles, and walked (well, waddled) over to the door.

Sabrina reached up and tried to unlock the door. She struggled and was unable to reach it. As she became more frustrated, she started to ask for help: "Can't reach! Help me! It's too high!!"

I tried to calm her down, through the door, and told her that it can't be too high for her because she was able to get the door locked when she entered the stall. I told her to stretch her arm up, that I knew she could reach it. She started to cry.

The two women in the bathroom were trying to contain their laughter, but were unsuccessful. I told the ladies that it would not be funny if I had to crawl onto this tile floor under the stall door. I was dressed for court and not wearing the kind of clothes I wanted to lie on the floor of a public bathroom in.

Sabrina's fussing and fear intensified as she still could not get the door open. I really did not want to crawl under that door, but was running out of options. I debated having Sabrina crawl under the door to me, but that would have left the door locked from the inside and then no one could use that stall. I thought that would be wrong to do.

Just then fate intervened and Catherine walked into the bathroom. She, as you know, is tiny and is just the perfect size to crawl under the door of a bathroom stall. So I asked her to crawl under the stall and unlock the door for Sabrina.

Catherine had no qualms about the dirtiness of a public bathroom floor, so she immediately said OK, laid on the floor and began to shimmy across the dirty tile. Even I had to laugh at the sight of Catherine belly crawling into the bathroom stall. She looked like the guys you see in military training scenes on television shows: crawling under barbed wire through an obstacle course. Of course once she was in there she was easily able to unlock the door for me. Crisis averted!

"I Can Hold an Umbrella"

This morning when I woke up Catherine, she asked me what we were doing today. I told her we were going to church, then lunch, then soccer. We dressed for church and packed her clothes for soccer. She has only been to soccer twice before and seemed marginally interested, but we are keeping at it so she can learn some skills, strength and balance.

Unfortunately, when we got out of church it was pouring down rain. So, I told Catherine she could not play soccer because of the rain. Part of me thought she would be happy, because I am not sure if she really likes soccer or not.

I was pleasantly surprised when Catherine said to me "I can hold an umbrella in one hand and kick the ball with my other leg." (I know that is not a completely logical statement, but I admired her creativity and problem solving.) I chuckled and said that she could not play soccer in pouring down rain. I told her we would go next week, which seemed to satisfy her.

Where did THAT come from?

I am sure this will be a silly story to people with older children. We have had almost complete control over and awareness of Catherine's environment for the past five years. Not so, anymore.

Last weekend we taught both girls how to play dominoes with a cute Disney princess set we got her.

It is a fairly simple game and they can even play it by themselves (yeah!!). They play it almost every day and love matching the princesses up and making interesting shapes with the board.

Yesterday the girls got the game out to play with it on the floor of our living room. Robby and I were sitting on the chairs. Catherine picked up two of the dominoes, stood up and said the following:

"Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, this is a matching game. Let me teach you how to play."

It was so cute! Robby and I were shocked. Who was she talking to (Sabrina just sat there)?Where did she learn to say such a thing? "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls?" Seriously?

We are also thrilled that she is talking so much without prompting. It is fabulous to hear what is going on in her mind. For so long she was so silent and we had to wonder what she was thinking. Not anymore!

Thanks for the Help

My daughters like to help with housework, especially laundry. Here is what happens when they hang clothes:

Sabrina Gets an A+ for Listening

Just over a week ago we potty trained Sabrina. She is doing great, but we still have to remind her to go and we have an accident every few days. And, I still have to wash her sheets every third day or so. But, she is getting very good at telling us when she needs to go.

Yesterday while we were driving in the car, she said "I need to tee-tee." We were just a few minutes from the restaurant, so I said "Hold it, Sabrina. We are almost there, so just hold it."

I was actually sitting in the back seat with the girls because my father was in the car with us, making it 5 people in the car. So, I got to see Sabrina's reaction when I told her to "hold it" - IT WAS PRICELESS!

Sabrina took both her hands and immediately grabbed her crotch. Then she said "I holding it!"

I was so amused by her literal interpretation of my directions. I am not sure if she understood me when I tried to explain that what I meant was for her to squeeze her inner parts. There are so many things we do that are actually very hard to explain, especially to a two-year-old.

"It's My Nose"

Today we took the girls to a local ballet school and watched their ballet recital. The girls have recently become interested in ballet and I am always looking for opportunities for the girls to practice their "sitting still and watching something quietly" skills. They still need a lot more practice with that skill!

During the recital, Sabrina stood next to me on the pews (this ballet school is part of a church). She started to pick her nose with her finger. I moved her finger away from her nose and quietly, but firmly, said "Do not pick your nose, Sabrina."

She turned to me with that grimace on her face which means that she is about to start wailing and said "It's my nose." Her finger immediately returned to her nostril for more picking. I grabbed her hand again and said "NO, Sabrina, you cannot pick your nose. If you start screaming, we will have to go outside and you will go into time out."

Thank God Sabrina still dislikes time out. She calmed down immediately. I fear the day when time out loses its sting with Sabrina!

My thoughts returned to a common theme: my girls are so different. Almost every day my kids do something which reminds me of this truism. I have no memory of Catherine ever picking her nose. She had a runny nose most of the time because she had so much nausea, and maybe that had something to do with it. But Catherine is also a much cleaner person than Sabrina. Catherine washes her hands all the time and will not walk past a wall-mounted container of hand sanitizer without getting some. When I pick Sabrina up from school at the end of the day, I can determine her daily agenda by looking at the stains on her clothes, arms and hands: dirt and grass if they went outside, paint if they did crafts, lunch. I no longer dress Sabrina up for school. Instead, she just wears shorts or pants and a t-shirt.

Also, I don't think Catherine would have challenged my authority like that at the age of 28 months. We have had to push independence and self-sufficiency on Catherine. I think we may have babied Catherine because of her medical issues and given Sabrina less coddling. But Sabrina is pushing her independence on us. She frequently says "I do it" to us. Catherine still complains that she needs help and whines that she "can't do it."

Catherine Visits the Atlanta Ballet

We had a fabulous evening yesterday, thanks to a new organization called From Thin Air. Bill Ruck, who runs From Thin Air, pulls all kinds of tricks out of his (silly) hat and makes one evening of magic for children suffering from cancer or other medical challenges.

Catherine's magical night began when a "really long car" arrived at our house. The girls loved their first ride in a limo - the lights in the ceiling kept changing colors and the girls were allowed to walk around in the car (only at stop lights) - forget car seats!

After a fun dinner of pizza at Mellow Mushroom, the limo took us to the Atlanta Ballet. The girls got a tour of the stage and joined the real dancers in the dressing room to change into their leotards. We got to watch the ballet's dress rehearsal from the front row. We knew Catherine would be enthralled, but were thoroughly shocked at how mesmerized Sabrina was. As soon as the curtain would come down after each dance, Sabrina would scream out "Again!" She sat on our laps and stared at the dancers for two hours.

11 Alive news covered the evening:

Catherine's health is improving every day, which lets her personality and energy shine. She talked during the entire ballet with a steady stream of questions and comments: "They are wearing blue. How many are there? Where did they go? She is on her tiptoes. He is a boy dancer. Why are they wearing white? Her hair is in a tight ponytail. That man is taking pictures. There is the man with the silly hat. Her skirt is pretty. The dancers are spinning around. Can we put make up on now? She is dancing by herself. The other dancers came back."

We cannot say THANK YOU enough to "the man in the silly hat," Bill Ruck. He has turned the loss of his son to leukemia into a mission to provide magical nights to other children fighting cancer. One of his mantras is "I choose to live in a world where people help each other." He is right. Last night was a fabulous, magical example of several people and organizations coming together to help Catherine. I am so grateful for people who choose to help other people.

"You're In My Line"

Recently we went to Camp Sunshine's family camp. One of the activities we tried was putt-putt. The girls are still only 2 and 4 and have never done this before, so their skills were pretty rough. We didn't even attempt to teach them rules or technique, just letting them play.

Catherine understood that she was supposed to hit the ball with the club, but it would take her about 20 hits to get the ball anywhere near the hole. Sabrina seemed to think it was more effective to just pick her ball up and carry it around, sometimes to the hole. Sometimes not.

Anyway, Robby was trying to actually play a real game of putt-putt during this. I am not sure if Sabrina had any idea what the "goal" of the activity was, so she frequently just stood in the middle of course, ball and club in hand.

Robby would practice proper golf etiquette and say "Sabrina, you're standing in my line." As if she would have any idea what he meant! Sabrina, being 2, simply remained in Robby's line, watching the rest of us. We would physically have to move her off the course to get her out of his way.

We all need to frequently be reminded of how much our children are listening to us, of how often they repeat what we say, even when they have no idea what we meant.

So, we were tickled when Catherine, having placed her ball in the start location and preparing to swing her club, said "You're standing in my line, Sabrina." Then Catherine swung her club and hit the ball one second later, before Sabrina even had a chance to move (not that she would have moved anyway).

Then this past weekend we putt-putted again, this time in Gatlinburg. Catherine reminded us of the fishbowl parents are in when she placed her ball down and stated "You're standing in my line, Sabrina." At the time that Catherine made the statement, Sabrina was playing a different hole, proving that toddlers just repeat what they hear, whatever it means.