For the Folks in Mexico...

This blog was created to keep family and friends (near and far) updated on our lives. With my mom and dad in Mexico, I hope to do just that with this post. Mom, Dad ... while you're soaking up the sun, we're freezing out butts off in Michigan and missing you like crazy.

On with the post...

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All is well in Zoe's world. Most days, she's happy to be a 'big girl' and help with little tasks around the house, like making dinner ...

... or pulling Mitchell on the sled on a rare above-freezing day.

On those days that it isn't above freezing, we try to find things to do that are a) inside and b) cheap! The Chelsea Library fits both criteria. They have this great little playroom that the kids love.

Currently, one of Zoe's favorite activities is practicing writing her letters. She says she wants to do it perfectly. She's also convinced she can read. Granted, she's doing pretty well with letter sounds and is beginning to sound out simple words, but it'll be a while before she's occupying Mitchell and Alyse with board books. I can't wait for that day!

Speaking of Mitchell and Alyse, they recently had their nine-month check ups. All is well and only one shot! I also learned something: I used to think Zoe's slight build was due to one too many respiratory illnesses in a row when she was an infant, but now I attribute it to genes (and not mine). Rich always says he had to fight to keep weight on until he discovered beer and nachos. I guess the kids take after him.

Mitchell weighed in at 17 lbs., 15 oz. and is 29 inches. That's the 20th percentile for weight and the 75th for height.

Alyse weighs 16 lbs., 10 oz and is 28 inches. That's the 10th percentile for weight and the 75th for height.

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Zoe was 16 lbs. 3 oz. and 28 1/2 inches at her nine-month check up. See a pattern here?

Mitchell's favorite activity is trying to stand up using anything as a prop, including his sister's head. He's still content to zoom around on his belly, combat-crawl style. When he's on the hardwood, he drags his legs and reminds me of a penguin sliding on the ice. I'm convinced he's going to have massive shoulders by the time he's walking. He also has a mouth full of teeth (four on top, two on bottom) that he's discovered are great for biting into things, like mama's shoulder and sister's foot. Luckily, he also has become such a love and gives slobbery open-mouth kisses whenever asked.

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Alyse finally became mobile (not counting the rolling) and actually beat Mitchell to hands-and-knees crawling. She's slow, but effective. She's more focused on communication than her brother. For quite a while now she been clapping and waving and is working on expanding her vocabulary, which currently contains one more word than Mitchell's. It is this word that she utters about a hundred times, from the moment she wakes to about two minutes before she drifts off to sleep. That word is "YEP!" She will demonstrate her formidable 'yepping' skills in a video at the end of this entry.

Now a couple more recent photos.

The kids like crawling through this tunnel. Here's Mitchell after spotting the camera.

Dziadzia stopped by for a visit before taking Zoe to a U of M women's basketball game on Sunday. He and Alyse played with her toy ... until she spotted the camera.

Zoe after the game, which she kept referring to as the football game (her sports-writing daddy loved that).

And now, some video for no other reason than I finally downloaded them to our computer and thought I'd share a couple. I have the hardest time getting candid photos of the kids and capturing anything spontaneous on video. They stop what they're doing and grin like The Cheshire Cat as soon as either appears.

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Here's a time I was acutally able to capture something as it happened, thanks to Busia. It's from the beginning of January at the exact moment Mitchell figured out how to clap when Busia sang Pat-a-Cake to him.



And here is Alyse doing what she does best ... yepping!

Take care,
ZMA's mama

Speaking of Bubblewrap...

Zoe must have lost her mind when Rich opened the package. I wish I was home to see it. The replacement mini-fridge I ordered was packaged in (you guessed it) bubblewrap. Yards and yards of the stuff. So much that once completely unpacked, she piled it in the empty box and spent half the day sitting on it (pop, pop, pop). She called it her bubble rocking chair. When I arrived home, bubblewrap was spread across the garage floor like a popping red carpet.

Unfortunately, her giddiness faded upon my arrival because she knew it was time to head to the doctor for her flu shot. We scheduled it along with Mitchell and Alyse's six-month check-up to get all the shots out of the way at once.

Everything went fine with the check-ups. Mitchell is 27 inches and 14 lbs. 15 1/2 oz. putting him in the 75th percentile for height and the 10th for weight. Teething, a double-ear infection and strep throat took a tole on the little guy's eating habits for the past few weeks, but his middle of the night feedings should catch him back up pretty quickly (lucky us).

Alyse was also 27 inches and tipped the scales at 13 lbs. 12 1/2 oz. putting her in the 90th percentile for height and the 25th for weight. Looks like her love of any kind of solid food we put in front of her is adding more length than girth. If only it worked out that way for the rest of us.

Now it was time for the shot portion of our visit. Hey, anyone seen Zoe? Once the doctor left the room and Zoe knew the nurse would return with sharp things, she disappeared under a bench. Rich had to get down on the ground and pull her out, kicking and screaming (Zoe, not Rich). Lucky for us and Zoe, the nurse administering the misery was a seasoned pro and distracted Zoe with the ol', you-tell-me-when-you're-ready-for-your-shot trick and it was over before Zoe realized it was then that she was supposed to scream ... though more wails came later when Rich took away her graham cracker for refusing to say thank you.

One down, two to go. Mitchell and Alyse had six vaccinations this time around. Thank goodness some chemist had the foresight to combine three of them into one shot, so that meant only three shots and one viscous drink later (two times over) and we were finished.

The best part...we get to repeat this (though abbreviated) in a month. All three kids need a second flu shot. Fun stuff!

The one immediate benefit to all of this...

Three sleeping kids and time to write a quick blog.

Take Care,
ZMA's mama

Just The Facts, Ma'am

Mitchell and Alyse are 5 weeks old today. We headed to their their 1 month check-up this morning, so I have a good excuse to post some pictures and a few new statistics on our little ones. First, here's a picture from playtime last week.


All went well today (even the shot). They are healthy, alert and growing fast.

First up, Brother. Being the voracious eater he is, he's pulling quite a bit ahead of Sister on the scales. He was 6 lbs. 12 oz. at his last weight check on April 28th. He now tips the scales at 9 lbs. 14 oz., which puts him in the 50th percentile for weight. Not bad! He's also 21 inches long now.

Alyse is also right on track. She was 6 lbs. 7 oz. at her last check and she is now 9 lbs. 1 oz. (also 50th percentile) and 20.75 inches long. Both kids are in the 25th percentile for height, but should catch up as they mature.

Not much else to report. Rich and I have survived this first month with lots of help from family and we can't thank everyone enough.

Take care,

ZMA's mama

Two Year Check-Up

What a difference a year makes.

Here's a picture of Zoe a year ago and today, at her two year check-up.

She's now 34.5 inches tall (55th percentile) and back on the charts for weight at 24 lbs., 8 oz. (27th percentile). She's grown 4.5 inches and gained 7 lbs., 5 oz. since her one year check-up. Good job, Noodle!

After hearing her current height, I was hoping it was true that doubling a child's height at age two will predict their height in adulthood... sadly, it is not believed to be accurate at all. Darn! I was so excited at the prospect of my child not having to wear pants with an S or P after the size (that means short or petite for all you giants). After a little searching on the Web, I found a site that gives a couple methods for predicting height. By most calculations, it looks like Zoe could be 5'5 1/2". That'd be tall for my family. Of course, they have to add the disclaimer: While this method is fairly accurate, the child's ultimate height can vary by as much as five inches above or below this calculation. Really? Well that's about as accurate as me throwing a dart. Still, if she's in the 55th percentile now and continues on the curve, the calculation seems realistic.

She actually seemed to enjoy her visit with Dr. Turke this time. She walked confidently into the office and greeted the nurse with, "Yo-yo wants docta tacky!" (translation: "Zoe wants a doctor cracker"). Our doctor gives the kids graham crackers when they finish with their examinations. For some reason, this is a big treat... though she will usually turn her nose up if offered one at home.

She must remember that the nurse administers the 'ouches' because as soon as she started taking her weight and height, Zoe was in tears. When she left, the waterworks stopped and she happily explored the room and, for some reason, proceeded to name every body part.

When Dr. Turke came in to begin her check-up, she reminded him that he owed her a cracker (several times) and then, surprisingly, let him do the whole check-up without a single objection. She even laid down on the crinkly paper and did not object when he poked around her tummy and stuck the light in her ears and nose.

Then came the 'developmental' part of the check-up. All the usual questions regarding language skills, motor skills, etc. He was especially impressed that she's counting and knows a few colors consistently. Of course, she refused to demonstrate any of her abilities until he left the room and she began to loudly count the wolves painted on the wall (one, two, tee, pfour, pfive, seeeex...). Dr. Turke heard the whole thing from his adjacent office, popped his head back into the room and said, "I heard that!" Zoe buried her head and acted embarrassed. He told her she was a smart little girl and she seemed to be proud after the compliment. After that, as he ran through a couple checks of her motor skills, she would yell, "YEAH, ZOE" after accomplishing each simple task.

Once the doctor left I set about preparing both of us for the first shot without daddy present. The nurse came in with her little tray and Zoe looked at me like, "This is why I don't like that woman!" I told Zoe that she was going to get some medicine in her leg that would keep her healthy and strong. Then came the crappy part, having to brace your kid. Believe it or not, no tears... from me. Zoe cried for about a minute and then immediately stopped when she got the bunny "ticky" (band-aid) on her leg and Dr. Turke re-appeared with her 'tacky.'

So, all is well with our little toddler. She got her 'tacky' and mumbled a quiet 'tankyou' (all one mashed-up word).

Take Care,
Zoe's mama

18 MONTH UPDATE

Tuesday was Zoe's year-and-a-half birthday. We bought one-and-a-half cakes and sang "Happy Birthday" one-and-a-half times. Not really.

Zoe did, however, hang out with her Honeygram over the weekend. She delighted in having someone new to boss around. She loves telling people where to sit. And her new favorite utterance is "Oh, man!" It's very funny.

We haven't been taking as many pictures lately. Probably because it's harder to get her to sit still long enough to capture anything! Here's a few recent, blurry pictures of Zoe and Honey in the mall... shortly after Zoe got herself a new pair of shoes.

Here they come...

... and there they go.

Sonja keeps saying that Zoe either A) Needs a haircut, or, B) Needs to start allowing cute little ribbons or bows to stay on her head for more than six minutes.

They've been playing slumber party at night:

Anyway... the whole reason for this post was the 18-month update. We went for a checkup on Wednesday, and Zoe is doing wonderfully. She's finally bulked up and is on the growth charts for weight (17th percentile... still small, but better than not on the chart at all) and seems to be leveling off at about 50th percentile in height. Doctor Turke says she's right on track in all other developmental areas, which makes us happy and thankful.

Finally, we'd like to welcome Jackson Elijah Lozen to the world. Family will remember Phil Lozen, one of my groomsmen. He and his wife, Amy, had their first child at 3:30 Thursday morning. Jack won't have trouble registering on the growth charts. He's reportedly a big boy... with big, "Phil-like" feet. (Phil's words.)

We can't wait to meet him. Congrats!

AN APPROPRIATE MONIKER

Just a quick update. The Noodle had her one year check-up last week and, once again, is living up to her nickname. She's 30 inches (a little over the 75th percentile) and 17 lbs., 13 oz. (under the 5th percentile). A wiry little thing.

The doc had told us she was just under the 10th percentile but, after looking at the chart 100 times myself, I think his maturing eyes may have deceived him a bit. At any rate, she's exactly 10 pounds and 9.5 inches more than she was a birth. Hopefully, with summer will come a long, illness-free stretch of time where she can concentrate on packing on some pounds. If only we were all lucky enough to have her problem!

Here's a pic of Zoe before the poking and prodding began.

A big thanks to Rich for doing shot duty while I cowered in the waiting room. I fully intended to suck-it-up (as Rich would say) and stay in the room while the shots were administered. But the nurse, knowing my background, warned me that these shots were particularly "sting-y" (is that a medical term?) and it would probably be best if I "stepped out."

Judging from Zoe's high-pitched wail heard in the waiting room and the furthest regions of the county... "sting-y" must have been an understatement.

Still, she mustered a smile for the receptionist on the way out. Gotta love that kid.

So, all is well here. Hope it is there, too.

Take care,
Zoe's mama

IT'S A LONG ONE, BUT YOU MAY HAVE BEEN WAITING

Some of the collections that have inadvertently popped up in Zoe's room are downright fun. Shelves lined with plush stuffed bunnies and dozens of books, for example. Another collection that's started in a small bin above her changing table isn't so fun: Hospital wristbands. We have the ones from her birth, another from a visit after a bout with vomitting and diarrhea, another after breathing problems caused by her first run-in with pneumonia, and now her latest set... from U-M's Mott Children's Hospital.

It was a crazy weekend around here. And it was experienced drastically differently by Sonja and myself. So differently, in fact, that I thought it was necessary to tell the tale in two voices:

RICH: I left home at 7 p.m. Saturday evening, destination Rochester, Minn., to visit my friend Jerome at The Gift of Life House next to the Mayo Clinic. Earlier that morning, a visit to our pediatrician seemed to indicate (in my mind, at least) that Zoe was recovering well from what was diagnosed as another round of pneumonia. So I headed to Minnesota to see Jerome, my lifelong friend, who had days earlier donated a kidney to his mother. After driving through most of the night, inadvertently going nearly two hours out of my way on the wrong highway and three different unsuccessful stints trying to sleep at highway rest areas, I was an hour from Rochester when I got a disturbing call from Sonja.

SONJA: My friend Dani arrived at 6 p.m. Saturday to spend the night. Since her husband was also out of town, we figured it was a rare chance for some girl time. We ordered food and rented movies. Unfortunately girl time was postponed by a rough night (and well into early morning) with Zoe. Party over. By morning, she was back to being lethargic and launched into a coughing fit (along with the accompanying phlegm-filled vomitting). After a previously-prescribed breathing treatment didn't help, Dani (who happens to be three months pregnant) convinced me that our pediatrician is paid well enough to be bothered with an early Sunday morning phone call. He agreed a visit to the emergency room was in order, called ahead for us and we headed for Mott. At about 11 a.m., the hospital staff told us Zoe should be admitted. That's when I called Rich.

RICH: Because I was so close to Rochester, I proceeded to the Gift of Life House and visited with Jerome for about an hour (the original plan was to watch the Super Bowl with him, but I instead listened to it on the radio on my return home). For those keeping score at home, that means I was basically sitting in the front seat of my truck from 7 p.m. Saturday until I arrived at Mott at approximately 12:45 a.m. Monday morning. But don't feel sorry for me... that was probably easier than where Sonja was sitting.

SONJA: A recent switch in medical insurance meant we switched to the University of Michigan system. While we certainly feel fortunate to live in a community near such fine medical options (Mott Children's Hospital is rated one of the top 10 children's hospitals in the world), it can also be a bit frustrating. Let's just say that our generation's best doctors aren't being taught a whole lot of bedside manner. And it never helps that no matter how sick Zoe is, she can always muster a smile for every doctor and nurse that walks in the room. If we had a dollar for every time we heard "babies don't act like that when they're sick," we'd have a nice start on that college fund. Basically, we're often left feeling like we have to lobby to get practitioners to believe she is sick. And even we're struck by how odd phrases like "she's not smiling as often as she usually does," or "her color isn't as nice as it usually is," can sound. Then came a most unpleasant x-ray that left me asking why, with modern technology, they can't come up with a better process. They strapped Zoe into an electric chair-looking contraption, legs dangling, bottom balanced on a peg, and strapped in with velcro straps around each arm, her head, her torso and a plastic strap pulling up her chin. With a look of terror and tears streaming down her face (and mine), they got the x-rays that confirmed she had fluid in her lungs. The doctor described it as "fluffy." Later, with Zoe re-hooked to a pulse-ox machine (measuring the amount of oxygen in her bloodstream), nurses still wouldn't believe the low reading was correct because -- once again -- "babies don't act like that" when they're having trouble breathing. Finally, Dani piped up with (and I thank her for this paraphrased question): "Why is it that when the reading is low, the machine isn't working but when it says what you want it to say, it's working fine?" Posed with that question, the attending doctor asked us to keep Zoe still and he'd monitor her. While she slept and I nursed her, the pulse-ox reading fell to 85 (below 92 is too low). Finally, they were convinced.

Friends and family kicked in from there. In Michigan, Busia headed for U-M to take over Dani's role as Sonja's support system. (Sonja can't thank either enough for their much-needed help.) Honey desparately wanted to be there, too, but thanks to an earlier visit with Zoe she was experiencing her own respiratory issues.... and the doctors suggested she keep her distance. As Rich high-tailed it back home, he was kept awake by a steady stream of phone calls from Dziadzia and Uncle Norman, intended to serve mainly as one of those alarms truckers wear that beep when your head slumps.

The night was spent with Zoe receiving oxygen and being awoken frequently by nurses and doctors coming in to listen to her chest. Finally, early Monday morning, after Sonja and Rich each curled up on a tremendously uncomfortable (and half-sized) couch for short stretches of sleep -- and after Busia pulled an amazing (and greatly appreciated) all-nighter on an even-more-uncomfortable rocking chair -- nurses and doctors started showing up again.

This is a good time to get this thought out of the way. Walking down the U-M hospital hallway, you're struck with the magnitude of their work. One bulletin board included thumb tacks scattered across a map of the world, showing where patients had travelled from for their expert care. We heard tales of a 15-year-old girl a couple rooms down who was recovering from a heart transplant. I don't know what the tiny infant in the room next to Zoe was suffering from, but judging from the constant care and somber family vigil... it was serious. So maybe our dilemma paled in comparison. But when Zoe launched into a coughing fit so severe and constant that it caused Busia to yell into the hallway for help, you'd think we'd get a more compassionate response. OK... that point is made. I guess faced with the alternative of having to visit some inadequately staffed facility, we'll take the poor bedside manner.

The procedure that eventually helped things along was the suctioning of phlegm from her chest. Again, thanks to Busia for being there because faced with the prospect of sitting through the process (which is as barbaric as it sounds... think ShopVac), Sonja high-tailed it into the hallway and Rich pretended to remain sleeping on the awkwardly-sized couch.

After more observation and a chat with the head of pediatrics at the hospital, we were home by 1 p.m. Monday. Zoe is still recovering from the flu-like symptoms that plaqued her previously but is considerably less congested and not working so hard to breathe. That translates to much better sleeping and eating, which was becoming a problem. The hospital diagnosis was bronchiolitis likely caused by RSV, basically a viral version of pneumonia... one not helped by the antibiotics our pediatrician prescribed when he assumed it was pneumonia.

We're moving forward with some tests U-M doctors called strictly precautionary, but are still a little intimidating by their nature. Our pediatrician doesn't agree with the theory she has any existing condition causing her frequent respiratory problems... rather just the typical string of bad luck any daycare child has in his/her first year exposed to so much bacteria and viruses. (Something he ultimately says will be a positive because it will help her build immunity as she gets older). He still agreed to grant us the recommendations necessary for insurance to cover a visit to a specialist, if only to ease our minds of the worst-case scenarios we're now carrying around thanks to those U-M doctors' comments.

Now it's 10:44 p.m. Tuesday night, Zoe is sleeping soundly and we're about to do something we haven't had the chance to do in nearly a week... cuddle on the couch and chill out in front of some bad TV. We'll likely be asleep by 11, so don't call!

Much love.

MOMMY FINALLY SPEAKS...

Rich recently informed me that blog is supposed to be a team effort, so here it goes:

Today was Zoe's two month check-up (she's actually ten and a half weeks... that's a most-recent photo above). Those of you with kids know that this means major shots! Four to be exact. Once again, Rich managed to dodge this bullet... but I received it right in the heart. My mommy wasn't even there to shield me.

Zoe actually loves the doctor's office. Each room has a brightly painted mural and those nifty lights she finds so fascinating. She even loves the cold, crinkly paper on the examination table. The sound it makes when she kicks her legs always makes her smile.

The first part of the check-up was fun: Trying to get her length while she craned her neck to look at the tape measure and putting her on the scale while hoping she doesn't pee on the doctor like at her first appointment. She's now 11 pounds and 24 1/2 inches. The doctor says she's still considered tall and thin (certainly not traits she gets from me)!

Next, the doctor checked her development. Does she track objects around the room? Does she babble, coo and smile? Is she lifting her head, etc? Check. Check. Check. No problems here. She was demonstrating them all as we spoke.

I always come to the doctor with a sticky note full of questions, so I threw these out as the doctor scribbled notes in Zoe's chart. With all of Zoe's stats logged in her chart and my questions answered, there was only one thing left to do. It was time for Zoe's shots. The doctor excused herself and said a nurse would be in to do the dirty work.

Fortunately, the nurse at this small practice is a seasoned professional and fully expected what came next. She explained what shots she was going to administer and how Zoe would probably react. She then asked me to hold Zoe's arms and legs. Gulp! The first shot caused Zoe's eyes to widen in terror as she let out a scream so loud it startled me. The next caused her eyes to tear up and her whole body to tense as she looked at me with pleading eyes. By the fourth shot, Zoe and I were both crying harder than we ever had and the nurse was handing me the whole box of tissues, hugging me rather than comforting the poor little infant on the table and asking if I was going to be okay.

Here's the part that really got me. Immediately after the shots, the nurse suggested I let Zoe nurse to help calm her. As I sat with Zoe alone in the doctor's office, still crying so hard my tears were falling on her head, she looked up at me and smiled. My two-and-a-half month old comforted me! Man, I really need to toughen up if I'm going to make it through this whole parenting thing.

ps. Rich, you're not getting out of the next appointment. September 7th, 1:30 p.m. Four more shots. I'm going to start mentally preparing now!

AN APPLE A DAY

Like all of you, I've had my share of kick-in-the-gut moments.

A 64-yard Hail Mary somehow landing in Michael Westrbook's arms, for instance. Hearing "Mountain Song" by Jane's Addiction on a Coors Light commercial was hard to take. Then there's the hours spent staring incredulously at Tom Brokaw early in the morning of Wednesday Nov. 3, as Ohio officially accepted its transfer from the Rust Belt to the Bible Belt.

Today, I sidestepped one of those moments. Sonja did, too.

Zoe had her second doctor visit this afternoon, which included her second immunization shot. (The nurses covertly slipped her the first when she was whisked away for a bath at the hospital.) Watching someone poke our unsuspecting child with a needle was not high on our list of anticipated parental moments. My friend Brian prepared me: "She's going to look at you like she can't believe you let it happen, then she'll scream like a banshee." Super.

I got out of it. Never have I been so happy to be swamped at work. Then Sonja got out of it. Never has she been so happy to have her mom visit. Honey was a champ.

After Sonja excused herself from the examination room, Honey held Zoe through the poke and then consoled her near the window. Nothing captures Zoe's attention quite like sunlight dancing through the leaves of a maple tree.

The vitals: Zoe weighed in at 9 1/2 pounds and measured 23 3/4 inches. The doctor said that's 90th-percentile in height and 75th-percentile in weight. Tall and skinny. Hmmm. Has she met us?

Sonja had a doctor's appointment of her own the previous day (thanks to Busia for babysitting!) and was given a clean bill of health. She didn't get a shot.

Both my girls are happy and healthy. It's a great day.