The babies were safely in their high chairs, so I turned back to the stove to whisk our cream of wheat.
honk
The neighbor must be locking her car.
honk...........honk. honk....honk.... honk.honk.honk.....honk
Slightly annoyed, I opened the door to find the source of the noise. Nothing. Back to the kitchen.
honk....honk...honk..honk......honk. honk.....honk
At this point, I was thoroughly annoyed.
honk....honk..honk..honk
Imagining this going on for the rest of the morning (and the dog barking at the noise the enire morning), I started to consider calling the police to complain.
honk...honk....honk...honk
ARGH!
honk..honk
I turned to look at the babies and noticed.... hey, Veda is holding my keys.
And pushing the buttons.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Sunday, October 16, 2011
21 Months Weigh-In
This week Veda and Linus went back to the pediatrician to get an official 21 months weight on the books. (A 21 months appointment is not part of the typical pediatric protocol, but our pediatrician requested that we make one. So no, you didn't forget to schedule one, winky face.)
The results?
Mr. Linus is up to 23 pounds. The nurse didn't do a length measurement, but according to our growth chart, he's at 32.75 inches. No concerns about Linus. His weight is in the 3rd percentile, but being that that's still within the range of normal and he's maintained his approximate position on the curve for a while, no big deal.
Veda was up to 18 pounds, 13 ounces. I was feeling pretty good about it while we waited to speak to the pediatrician. But then here's an overview of how that conversation went:
Dr. B: (same practice we usually go to, but not the ped. we see most of the time) Hi, I'm the third pediatrician out of the last three pediatricians you've seen who are worried about Veda's failure to thrive.
(insert boring conversation about Pediasure/Pediasmart here)
Me: I'm all for addressing something that's a reasonable concern, but is it possible that she's just small? I didn't crack 100 pounds until I was in college.
Dr. B: It isn't just that Veda isn't on the chart, it's that she's so far below the chart and so far below the curve she was on when she was an infant. I want to send her to a gastroenterologist to run some tests. I'm concerned that she may have malabsorption issues.
Me: How invasive is this testing going to be?
Dr. B: I think they'll start with some bloodwork. If she tests positive for celiac disease, they'll want to do a biopsy through a colonoscopy.
Me: When you say malabsorption, what exactly are we talking about?
Dr. B: There's a wide range....
At this point he suggested cystic fibrosis, which he also benignly suggested as a condition that would require treatment for the rest of her life. Well, uh, yeah. FORTUNATELY, I'm not having a big 'ol freak out about that one because *phew* one of the many, many, many tests that were part of the IVF process was testing to see if either the husband or I are carriers. WE ARE NOT. I like this doctor, and I think he's a good doctor. But I do think that was pretty insensitive to suggest. He's human, though, and I guess everybody has verbal missteps sometimes.
So we're going to see a pediatric GI specialist for testing. Dr. B got me to agree to it with the dangly carrot of seeing a dietition while we're there. I like the idea of seeing a dietician because it checks something else off the list of BUT WE'VE DONE ALL OF THIS STUFF TO ADDRESS THE PROBLEM, and between the anemia and failure to thrive, my confidence in my ability to meet my children's nutritional needs is a little on the sorta shakey side.
Future Veda, when you read this, I want you to know that I'm really, really sorry to be putting you through all of this poking and prodding. It just kills me to see the puckered look you give me when you get stuck - the look that says, "Why are you letting this happen? I trust you." We're doing this because we need to be sure. It would be awful, terrible, horrible to get years down the road and find out that you had some untreated condition that affected your development.
You should also know that you are getting to eat lots and lots of ice cream.
The results?
Mr. Linus is up to 23 pounds. The nurse didn't do a length measurement, but according to our growth chart, he's at 32.75 inches. No concerns about Linus. His weight is in the 3rd percentile, but being that that's still within the range of normal and he's maintained his approximate position on the curve for a while, no big deal.
Veda was up to 18 pounds, 13 ounces. I was feeling pretty good about it while we waited to speak to the pediatrician. But then here's an overview of how that conversation went:
Dr. B: (same practice we usually go to, but not the ped. we see most of the time) Hi, I'm the third pediatrician out of the last three pediatricians you've seen who are worried about Veda's failure to thrive.
(insert boring conversation about Pediasure/Pediasmart here)
Me: I'm all for addressing something that's a reasonable concern, but is it possible that she's just small? I didn't crack 100 pounds until I was in college.
Dr. B: It isn't just that Veda isn't on the chart, it's that she's so far below the chart and so far below the curve she was on when she was an infant. I want to send her to a gastroenterologist to run some tests. I'm concerned that she may have malabsorption issues.
Me: How invasive is this testing going to be?
Dr. B: I think they'll start with some bloodwork. If she tests positive for celiac disease, they'll want to do a biopsy through a colonoscopy.
Me: When you say malabsorption, what exactly are we talking about?
Dr. B: There's a wide range....
At this point he suggested cystic fibrosis, which he also benignly suggested as a condition that would require treatment for the rest of her life. Well, uh, yeah. FORTUNATELY, I'm not having a big 'ol freak out about that one because *phew* one of the many, many, many tests that were part of the IVF process was testing to see if either the husband or I are carriers. WE ARE NOT. I like this doctor, and I think he's a good doctor. But I do think that was pretty insensitive to suggest. He's human, though, and I guess everybody has verbal missteps sometimes.
So we're going to see a pediatric GI specialist for testing. Dr. B got me to agree to it with the dangly carrot of seeing a dietition while we're there. I like the idea of seeing a dietician because it checks something else off the list of BUT WE'VE DONE ALL OF THIS STUFF TO ADDRESS THE PROBLEM, and between the anemia and failure to thrive, my confidence in my ability to meet my children's nutritional needs is a little on the sorta shakey side.
Future Veda, when you read this, I want you to know that I'm really, really sorry to be putting you through all of this poking and prodding. It just kills me to see the puckered look you give me when you get stuck - the look that says, "Why are you letting this happen? I trust you." We're doing this because we need to be sure. It would be awful, terrible, horrible to get years down the road and find out that you had some untreated condition that affected your development.
You should also know that you are getting to eat lots and lots of ice cream.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Things You Did Today
This morning while I was getting Linus dressed, Veda discovered the small box of doughnuts the husband had left on the back of the couch when he went to bed. I found her with two doughnuts in her lap, exactly one bite out of each one. She was savoring a piece of glaze left on her lip, her expression tied up in the way pretentious people do when talking about wine. The best part is that as I approached, she actually picked up the doughnuts and handed them to me.
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