The last week

The last week has been hard! Will's recovery from his tonsillectomy has been complication-free but it's still been rough on patient and parents. We've had little sleep as he often gets up a couple times for another round of pain medicine and the days are spent trying to keep him entertained with every Pixar movie in existence. Tempers are short and nights are looooong. But, he went back to preschool for the morning today and I'm hopeful that he's back to his regular schedule tomorrow. I'm glad that we had the surgery, but it definitely was harder than I thought it would be.

Since I don't have enough going on right now (ha ha), I decided to do an art project with the kids before dinner tonight. Some of us took the coloring assignment pretty seriously .... And some of us tried to eat the glitter glue immediately after this picture was taken. It's non-toxic, right?

Here's hoping the next week is easier than the last. Happy December!

Tonsils, part 2

Will tonsillectomy went well yesterday and we're all home and trying to keep him comfortable. There's not a sleep going on for anybody except Reina but our little trooper is hanging in there. Except for the 30-minute negotiations* that take place every time it's time for another round of pain medicine, he's been a model patient.

As I predicted and feared, Will was not a big fan of being at the surgical center. He caught on pretty quickly that we were there for more than just a regular doctor's visit. When it came time to put on the little surgical gown, we had to bring out the big guns (The Mack semi-truck from the Cars Movie and the Lightning McQueen with whitewall tires, not to be confused with the 2 other Lightning cars that he already has - one with fake mud and the other one from the beginning of the movie.) and that kept him busy until it was time for the nurse to take him back. At that point, he really freaked out and one of the hardest things I've had to do as a mom was to unwind his little arms from around my neck and hand him to the nurse. The doctor told us later that Will just screamed "No shots! No shots" until he mercifully went under the anesthetic. Luckily, he doesn't seem to remember any of it.

The surgery only lasted about 45 minutes and the doctor came out to let us know that everything went well. Will was supposed to spend some time in recovery but the nurses had to come get us because he would not settle down long enough for them to check his vital signs. When we went back there, he was standing on the recovery table and yelling so loudly that there was no doubt his lungs worked. Some people get nauseous from anesthetic, Will apparently just gets really, REALLY mad. It took all three of us (me, Glenn and Pop-pop) to get him calmed down enough for the nurses to take the monitors off and remove the IV. Not surprisingly, we were discharged a few minutes later. I think a screaming 3 1/2 year old sort of impacts their ability to make it a peaceful recovery room for all of the other patients.

So now we're home, trying to keep him hydrated and pain-free and watching every movie made by Pixar and Disney in the last decade.

Will and his beloved "Lightning Truck." He really wanted this for Christmas and he was pretty excited when it showed up early.

File this one under, "anything you can do, I can do better." Reina's having trouble understanding why Will gets popsicles and pudding for dinner. At least she gets a spot on the couch too. She's being a pretty helpful little nurse though. This morning when she woke up, Will was crying pretty hard and we were trying to help him get the pain under control. Reina came trotting over, took her chupee out of her mouth, and offered it to Will. His response to her generous gesture? "But I'm not a baby!" Thanks anyway, little sister.

*The negotiations go a little like this: Offer, cajole, plead, beg, remind how it makes the pain inside his head go away, offer again, cajole, plead, raise voices, threaten, threaten again and then FINALLY medicine taken. Much enthusiastic "what a good boy!, yeah Will!, you are so brave!, etc.

A facial hair extravaganza

The following is a very special blog post brought to you by co-authors, Glenn and Lucy. A few months ago, Glenn came back from a 10-day trip to Alaska looking like this: He decided to try to grow a beard and Lucy didn't object, although she did feel like she was sneaking around with her boyfriend Jake, a lumberjack. That was an especially odd feeling to have while standing next to Glenn at church. The beard started to fill in pretty quickly. Before we knew it, we had reached Full Beard status. Here's Glenn's interpretation of Full Beard: Rugged but sophisticated. Looks equally good at a logging camp or a poetry gathering. It adds a bit of earthiness. Commonly worn by prophets and the homeless.

Lucy's interpretation of Full Beard: We won't have to hire anyone to dress up as Santa Clause this year.

So after a few weeks of Full Beard, Glenn decided to scale back to the Goatee, or Goat as it's commonly referred to around here. Glenn's interpretation on the Goatee: Has a sporty look but a level of unpredictability to it. It's tough yet approachable. I may be interested in what you have to say or I may punch you. Commonly worn by athletes and bouncers.

Lucy's interpretation: In order to adequately immortalize the Autumn of Facial Hair, we had several photo shoots in the front yard (as you can tell). In this photo, the goatee is relaxed yet serious. Or wait, maybe this one is friendly and frisky. I can't tell. The goatee is very complicated. Well, nothing lasts forever and so it goes for goatees. I woke up last Monday to this guy:

Yep, that's Glenn with a handlebar mustache. He asked me if I wanted to go ride motorcycles after work. I said no, but that I would be interested in helping him rob a stagecoach.

Glenn's interpretation of the handlebar mustache: Few things better say, "I have no idea what the opposite sex finds attractive." Wearer is extremely self-confident or dim-witted. Most commonly worn by bikers or cowboys.

Well, our journey with Facial Hair must come to an end. But not before we unveil the final stop on this wild ride. Beware, this last look is not for the faint of heart. Glenn's interpretation of the Hitler Mustache: Either a die hard Charlie Chaplin fan or deranged, with a potential cannibalistic streak. Either way it is not recommended to approach this person. Or wear this look to work.

Lucy's interpretation: Please, just shave it off as fast as you can and don't you dare leave the house looking like that.

Well, it's a few days before Thanksgiving and Glenn is back to his clean-shaven self. I'm happy to have his face back and the money we are now spending on shaving cream and the various accessories is at least not being spent on therapy for our children. Besides, there's always next hunting season. Civil war beard? Fu man chu? Neck hair? Stay tuned!

Birthday parties and bouncy houses

Last weekend, we traveled down to Fort Collins for a birthday party. The party was at one of those bouncy houses/inflatable stuff places. Long story short, the kids had a BLAST! They ran around until they were both ragged and Will told me at the end of the party, "I just want to go home." I should clarify that he told me this while lying face down on the floor. Reina even enjoyed herself. She's not as adventurous, or maybe fool-hardy, as her brother but she definitely displayed some adrenaline-junky-like tendencies by enlisting the birthday girl's 10-year-old cousin to carry her up the giant inflatable slide about 1400 times. Here she is in one of the bouncy houses. Hmmm, I wonder which side of the family she inherited her sense of balance from? At the end of the party, the grown-ups attempted to take a group photo. The phrase "herding cats" comes to mind when you undertake a project of this magnitude. (Mostly) Everyone is sitting facing forward. Some kids are even smiling. Some look happy, some look tired. Let's zoom in on the Bronco Babies okay? Little Miss Oral Fixation is missing her chupee. Will's wondering if it's time for cake. Awww, well things are looking up when the cake and ice cream arrives. You can see in the background that everyone else is gathering around to sing "happy birthday." Not my two. It's ice cream time! After the birthday party, Aunt Vicky joined us and gamely drove around Fort Collins so that I could run some errands while the kids dozed in the backseat. After a while, we met up with Grandma Hansen and two of my aunts who endured a rather wild dinner with sleep-deprived kids in a sit-down restaurant. The kids were so tired that they didn't even wake up when we arrived back home and I changed them into the jammies. A very fun day was had by all!

File this one under, 'anything Will can do, I can do better.' Plastic Buzz wings designed for a 6-yr old? No problem! Strap those puppies on and let's around the house bouncing off of the furniture! I don't know what's going on in this picture but I like it.

We have a very special post coming soon so stay tuned. No, no one's pregnant again.

Tonsils

(Keeping Will entertained in the ENT's office by asking him to demonstrate various 'feelings.' I think this one is scary or mad or he could just be pretending to be a dragon which is a recurring theme around here.)

Will's going to be getting his tonsils out the week of Thanksgiving. I mentioned last month that the doctor had commented that his tonsils were pretty large for his age and the time of year. We spent one long weekend trying to keep an oxygen monitor on his finger all night and the tests came back indicating he has some signs of sleep apnea. It's not critical but there are times where his oxygen level drops pretty low. Both his doctor and the ENT specialist think that taking his tonsils out is the answer. I feel very torn about putting him through the procedure and the pain afterwards but I know it's better to get them out now rather than later. I had my tonsils removed when I was 30 and I missed three weeks of work and lost about 30 pounds. It ranks right up there with labor for sheer pain and you don't even get a cute baby at the end of it. So, we'll be stocking up on popsicles, buying a copy of Toy Story 3 and sending up a few prayers.

It's actually been a pretty quiet week. Glenn and I celebrated our fifth anniversary yesterday - that's right, it's been five loooooong years since we tied the knot. We're postponing our date night until after elk season ends but I did receive some pretty flowers at work and we shared a pecan pie with the kids. Turns out Reina's a big fan of the pecan pie. She's so me.

We had Veteran's Day off so I got to spend a mellow day at home with the kids. We got our first significant snowfall of the winter too and Will celebrated by wearing his snow boots all day. Both kids have school pictures next week so we braved the roads for a quick haircut.

Reina's potty training savant-ness continues. Stop here if you don't want to read anymore about human waste removel, but she did go #2 at school this week. It will be weird if we can get through this whole thing without a single m&m for bribery. She may not be able to climb up on to the toiley by herself, but Miss Independent is going to do it her way!

Remember when I was worried that she wouldn't talk?

Reina is so full of quippy one-liners lately that I can't even keep track of all of them. Her language keeps improving and now even a few people outside of Will, Glenn and I can understand her. Yesterday, she took a longer nap than usual and to wake her up, I brought her downstairs and turned on the horse race. All I had to say was "Look Reina, there are some horses" and her eyes popped open and for the next 27 minutes, all I heard was "horse, horse horse," insert kissing noises here, "horse, horse, horse," possible whinny-ing noise and repeat. If I had the audacity to switch channels, I'd hear "more horses! horses bye-bye? horse horse horse!" Someone buy this girl a pony already. Or a racehorse, either one will be fine.

It was All Saints Day at church and the handbell choir was in performance. When Reina heard the first handbell note, she immediately started waving her hands back and forth and yelling "bells! bells!" Unfortunately for everyone sitting in our immediate vicinity, the handbell choir does not play the entire service and for the rest of the hour, we had to listen to "I want more bells!" Of course in Reina-speak, it sounds more like "Iwanmobeh" but I think everyone knew what she was saying. It reminds me of the "more cowbell" skit from Saturday Night Live...

When I got her dressed one morning this week, I plopped the underpants on her head instead of putting them in their normal location. She did have leggings on so I wasn't being entirely weird. Well, she loved it and she squealed when I wouldn't let her wear it to school. Doesn't she look like she's getting ready to scrub in for surgery? I have about 50 pictures on my camera with the following pose. Reina's obsessed with seeing her picture and so you have to snap it quickly because she's usually racing towards the camera when she sees it in your hand. I love her curiosity (and slight narcissism?), even if it means I never get a decent picture.
Will and Reina are playing more and more together. Most of the time, he's pretty patient with her and he doesn't mind if she tags along. They definitely fight over the same toys but every once in a while, they can sit down in the same space for more than 30 seconds and hang out. I know this won't last forever so I have to get the pictures when I can.

One last note on language development, courtesy of Reina's big brother. When we driving home from school the other day, I was playing a game with Will and I said that I would be the boy and he could be the mommy. I said, "I don't want to eat dinner. Dinner's yucky!" Will's reply? "Okay, that's fine." That was his response when I said that I didn't want to take a bath, eat broccoli, or go to bed. So much for my feeble attempt at psychological torture, or ummm training.

A savant of sorts

Reina will probably excel at many things in her life. Maybe she'll be really good at math, or maybe she'll shoot a Boone and Crockett mule deer before her dad does. Maybe she'll get a scholarship to study nuclearphysicalmechanicalengineering science or something really fancy. But right now? She's really REALLY good at going potty. In the toilet. That's right, our little 20-month old loves to pee in the toilet like a big kid. She's been going at daycare for a few months and I chalked it up to peer pressure and much-more-patient-than-me childcare staff. However, lately at home, she'll point to her rear end and say "I go potty" so I'll take her upstairs and she does her thing. (How much is she going to love this post in 10-12 years, by the way? Sooooo much!) This weekend, she announced loudly and clearly in the middle of church "I GO POTTY!" so I whisked her off to the bathroom and lo and behold, she knew what to do, even though it was the big, scary church potty. I don't know many other kids her age who exhibit such a natural prowess for the toilet. Well, except maybe one, her Pop-pop. My dad claims that he was completely toilet-trained by his first birthday. Yes, you read that correctly. I'm skeptical too, but go ahead and ask him, he loves to talk about it.

A cowboy, a ghost, a garden gnome, and a guy with a beard

Happy day after Halloween! We survived the holiday and no one is currently in a sugar-induced coma so that's good news. It was beautiful weather for a Wyoming Halloween night and that's not always the case. My mom came over to man our door so Glenn and I took both kids trick-or-treating for a few minutes. Reina was skeptical at first but she quickly warmed up to the idea when she realized how much candy was involved. Will was fighting a little cold over the weekend so he was not as enthusiastic as he usually is. You know your kid isn't feeling well when he tells you that he just wants to go home after you hit just a few houses. Before we left, I managed to snap a few quick pictures of the trick-or-treaters. Why can't they both smile at the same time? Earlier in the day, we all woke up, had some breakfast and got dressed for church. Reina's so fashionable, that even her chupee matches her dress. Here, she expresses her displeasure in the fact that I took "chew" away. In fact, she very well may be chanting "chew, chew, CHEW!" in this picture. On Sunday, Will is always less than thrilled to wear non-elastic-waist pants and shirts with no cartoon characters on them. We're such mean parents. Back to Halloween, (man, I'm really skipping around on this post, hang in there with me!) Aunt Vicky volunteered to make snacks for Will's school party and boy oh boy, did she set the bar high. We don't just send brownies, we send EYEBALL BROWNIES! Aren't these freakishly-real looking? Yum! As you can imagine, they were a pretty big hit among the 3 and 4-yr old set.
Speaking of Halloween, our house has lately been haunted by the ghost of LL Bean. He's a friendly little ghost, runs around the living room moaning in ghostly way and occasionally bounces off of the sideboard. He also proudly announces, "Look mom, I'm a ghost!"

Speaking of other excruciatingly cute things, it's a smiling Reina. In a cat hat! Can you stand it?! Hey, it's the elusive parents again. And this time one of them is sporting a goatee. The saga of the facial hair continues. Stay tuned for future developments...