Happy Hallowe'en

 

1 point for Handwashing

This morning at 6am I laid in bed exhausted. One or both of the boys had been up with colds all night. Now that they were finally settled, Rio was coughing up a lung down the hall. I realized how lucky we had been, almost 2 months into the school year, including 2 long plane rides, that no one had been sick sooner.

"At least Rio's a hand washer", I thought.

Essentially since week 1 of school I have seen someone in her class snotty or coughing and I have been amazed at how germ free Rio has stayed. But that little girl washes her hands - all the time. She comes in from school and washes, before she eats she washes, she does something dirty she washes - all without being told.

Those 5 months in the NICU, followed by the boys' first year at home, we needed to stay clean - VERY clean. The fewest germs possibly could come near the boys, and so the only way that could happen is if we all stayed healthy. So we washed our hands all the time. Not in an OCD kind of way, just in the kind of way everyone should, but very few people do. (We are not antibacterial freaks by any way - in fact we try to avoid it - we just have clean hands!)

So in a world where the score for a normal, full term birth for the boys has about 423, 679, 845, 015 points to premature birth and all its consequences' bit fat ZERO, I think the fact that it has kept us all so healthy may have just earned itself a point.

Hallowe'en Preview

2 farmers, a black cat, a witch and a nun. I'll let you guess who's who.

Photos will come after Rio's school hallowe'en dance on Friday night - her first dance! I didn't have a dance until grade 7...although I did go to Catholic school so that could explain things. Our teacher gave us dance lessons to The Beatles 'Strawberry Fields Forever' and I remember it like it was 24 years ago yesterday.

Could you imagine if her dance played Strawberry Fields forever (what are the chances)?! FULL CIRCLE! I'm pretty sure I'll be settling for something more along the lines of Monster Mash. Can't wait to see our little cutie and her buddies dancing up a storm!

Good Hair

These children of ours having been sporting some pretty amazing hair these days - too cute not to share.

Post corn rows afro

Tousled cool guy

Ivy leaguer

Not This Again

Right around this time last year, I started a series of posts - "A Year Ago Today" - referencing back to the weeks and days before the boys' birth and the roller coaster ride we were on. That was a seriously difficult time, and re-living it last year, a year since it all went down, was very hard.

Now two years have passed, and while the memories aren't as painful or fresh, it's still hard to think of what we were up against. I HATE that when I think back to the time before, during and after the boys' birth, it makes me physically ill. I wonder every day what life would have been like with no prematurity and no CP, and the anniversaries just make that worse.

So here we go again. I can only hope that as every year passes, remembering this time gets easier. I would love to think that maybe one day, the only emotion surrounding the boys' birthday will be happiness?

News This Week

It's been a busy week since we've been home. Lots of catching up to do! Here's a quick summary on what the kids are up to:

Rio

• Back to school NO PROBLEM. Couldn't get me out of there fast enough on Monday morning. Phew. Somebody's officially settled!
• Tackled a dentist appointment with ease for the first time ever. In the past they have either been completely unsuccessful (like we leave without her opening her mouth), or like last time, when there were literally three of us holding her down and the dentist prying her mouth open. Not pretty! But proud to say this time she opened up all on her own and was a real champ.

Asher

• He's having some success sitting up. Not completely on his own, but with less support. Exciting!
• Because Asher's almost 2 years old and lives with CP, the fact that he's not sitting is stressful - incredibly stressful in fact. A year ago, we all, including his PT, thought he'd sit no problem, but these days I haven't been so sure and I have been scared to ask his PT what she thinks now. Today it came up when I told her how positive I am feeling about how well he is sitting with support, and unprovoked she said "Oh he'll learn to sit". Now of course she can't predict the future and no one knows for sure what Asher will do, but coming from a PT with years of experience, that made me really happy. Happy enough to cry - duh, of course, what about Asher doesn't make me cry?
• He has waaaay looser leg muscles since we've been back. Not sure what that's about - we think all the swimming he did - but it has made things easier for him. That said, I can feel them tightening by the minute, so doing lots of stretching.
• We had a good chat with PT and OT today about plans for more gear for him. Lots of stuff to look at and talk about next time we go to the gym at their centre. More stuff for the house, but really exciting any time we can get him more involved with all of us, especially Nolan.
• He's sleeping horribly. Up every night for hours at a time. Needless to say mom and dad aren't happy.

Nolan

• He's still not walking! Lots of independent standing but refusing to take a step. In Mexico he came so close a few times, but instead dropped down and decided to crawl.
• Hmm. Not much else. Evidently a boring week for Nolan!

Both Boys

• Starting to talk up a storm. Tons of mimicking and beginning more and more words at the appropriate time - for example "all done" when they don't want to eat anything else, "bye" when they are ready for bed, and often "bum" when they need a diaper change. Brilliant! 

Rio's on a professional day tomorrow so the whole family is going to a group therapy session for the boys. It is our first group setting so we're interested to see how that goes. I think I am getting sick, so hopefully the rest of the family doesn't follow suit. Either way, we're looking forward to a quiet weekend and some Canucks...I'm finally warming to the thought of them.

The Trip

The trip was amazing. Too much to sum up in a blog post, but everything we needed. Of course, parts of it weren't easy - traveling with 3 kids probably never is, especially when two of them are non-walking twins, and one has special needs. BUT, the difficulties paled in comparison to how wonderful it was overall. This definitely showed us that we can and will make traveling with the kids a priority, but wow are we ever glad we'll never have babies on our laps on a plane again!

Just a teaser - to see more pics, check out my facebook album (should work even if you're not on facebook).

The Letter

Drumroll please....

My contest winning (almost) piece. Check it out here on the Momoir Project and again here on ParentsCanada magazine's site. Full text below:

The Letter

Holding my twin boys at their bedside, I've been rocking back and forth so long that my legs are numb. I look down at their tiny faces, amazed at what they've been through. I can barely see their pale skin under a mass of wires and tubes and I am sharply reminded of the multitude of obstacles they still need to overcome before we can bring them home. I close my eyes, focus on the warmth of their bodies against my chest. The familiar sound of the cardiac monitors around us becomes nothing more than white noise. I am lulled into a trance.

Asher and Nolan have been in the neonatal intensive care unit for three months. Since their birth at twenty-six weeks gestation, weighing only two pounds each, my husband, Jordan, and I have spent every day coming and going from the hospital while trying to keep life as normal as possible for our three-year-old daughter, Rio.

Knowing it must be late now, I look up to check the clock and see my mom walking in. She hadn't told me she was coming today, and as she moves towards me, I sense that something isn't right. She gives me a reassuring smile and my posture loosens in relief.

I open my mouth to say hello and instead, I'm startled by the sound of a ringing monitor. I see Nolan's skin begin to turn a familiar shade of bluish-grey. I glance at the screen to see the numbers plummeting. As my own pulse quickens, he pinks up and his heart rate and breathing stabilize, just as quickly as they fell. His nurse watches closely. I give her a nod letting her know we're both fine and take a deep breath. These scares never get any easier.

I look around for my mom and she's no longer there. I am momentarily confused. Then, reality sets in.

How could I have been so silly? Of course, she's gone. She was never here. She died when I was nineteen and I am left with only fantasizing about her presence when I need her. I shake my head, wishing that, for once, it had not been a dream.

There have been countless times over the years when I could have used my mom's guidance at all the important moments, like when I got married or when I was pregnant with Rio or when I was buried in grief after the loss of another daughter. But I could also have used the little things I missed out on learning from her, like how to tie your husband's tie in a perfect double windsor or how to make a turkey dinner for twelve.

So like when I read through her recipes, trying to guess at the correct cooking time that was kept only in her head, I muddle my way through motherhood without her here to counsel me. I desperately want her advice, so I go looking for it.

*****

"Where could it be?" I mutter to myself with increasing urgency.

I pull every book off the shelf, leaving a pile scattered across the floor. I grab a box from the top shelf of the closet, wipe the dust off and open the lid: nothing. I run frantically downstairs and begin rifling through drawers, even though I'm sure it's not there. As a last ditch effort, I brave our cold, musty garage to see if my box of mementos is tucked up in a far corner. I balance on a dirty ten-gallon bucket I've turned upside down, reaching in without seeing. I can't feel it and exhale in dismay.

The letter that my mother had written to me on her deathbed is gone. My last tie to her has vanished to a hidden nook of my house.

I had last pulled it out while the boys were still in hospital, trying to find some sage words of advice that would help me get through the exhausting, and often hopeless, journey we were on. I didn't find them.

What I did find was the scrawling, nearly unrecognizable handwriting – a sign of the cancer that was ravaging her. In it, she told me what a surprise it was to find out she was pregnant with me, the fourth child, when she was forty. She advised me to choose my husband wisely, although she knew I would. She made jokes about how many grandchildren she would have. She reminded me that everything happens for a reason, even if it's hard to understand. And then, with a "Love Mom," it was over. That was it. No answers to all of motherhood's great questions, just a dying mother saying her final goodbyes.

Now, months later, after Asher has been diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy as a result of the brain injury he suffered at birth, I am trying to find that letter again. I'm hoping that maybe this time, I'll uncover some jewel that I had previously missed, to help me to deal with this life-altering news. But if I can't find the letter, I can't find my answers. After searching every plausible hiding spot, I fall into Jordan's chest in frustration.

"We'll find it," he assures me as he smoothes my hair.

"And what if we don't?" I ask dejectedly.

*****

There's flour all over the kitchen floor and sprinkled down the front of Rio. We're making sugar cookies and while I roll out the dough, she carefully imprints the butterfly cookie cutter. I resist my urge to do it for her, trying to speed up the process and minimize the mess, reminding myself that she's having fun. She laughs with abandon as I catch her sneaking yet another mouthful of dough. She is the image of me at her age, wearing the blue Bambi apron I once wore, a little worse for wear, but still intact.

I think back to baking with my mom. Standing on tiptoes to see fresh cookies on cooling racks is one of my fondest childhood memories. I look over at those very same racks on my own counter – another of the many things I pilfered from home after my mom died and I moved away.

As I observe this interaction with Rio, I reflect on the many parallels between my mom and me. Sure, there's our love of baking, our ability to be a great hostess and our penchant for making a good list. More importantly though I realize that it's the bigger things. I may do things differently than she did: she was strict and old-fashioned, while I am much more liberal and communicative. But the fundamental morals and values remain the same. My mom gave life lessons by example and she taught me how to be a mother long before I became one: to be a good person, to fiercely love your family and friends and to believe in your own strength.

I now strive to bestow this upon my own kids.

*****

I'm back in the bedroom, tearing the bookshelf apart one last time.

"It has to be here," I tell myself as I pull out all of the same books, hoping the letter will fall out from between them.

It doesn't.

I resign myself to the fact that, at least for now, it's lost. As I begin to load the books back on the shelf, I see a glimpse of white. I take a closer look, and sure enough, there it is, an envelope tucked along the back wall of the shelf.

I quickly grab it and clutch it tightly to my chest for only a moment before putting it back safely where I know I'll find it next time. Strangely, I don't need to read it. I just need to know it's there. I know the answers to motherhood that I've been looking for have been inside me all along, waiting for life to show them to me. My mom may only be here in spirit, but with the foundation she provided, I am becoming the mother my children deserve and one I hope that she would be proud of.

Homeward Bound

In less than 24 hours we're headed home. What a fantastic vacation.

This week we've gone from a hurricane zone to hot hot hot again! The sun is so gorgeous and I am not looking forward to braving the grey Victoria fall when we get back.

Wish both us and our fellow passengers luck that the kids behave as well on the way home as they did on the way down. Missing naps tomorrow and not arriving home till 10:30 pm (12:30 am Mexico time) so not counting on it!

Details and photos to follow next week. Hasta luego!

The Same, But Different

Not very often that the boys match, but this is my favourite way to dress them - coordinating. You bet that black and red, red and black? Cuteness times a million! Needless to say they got a few ooohs and ahhs that day!

But of course!

We've had a good couple of days since my last update. Lots more time at the pool and beach, a couple of bus trips into downtown PV, Rio's got herself some corn rows, and we even took a trip to the zoo yesterday - sketchy, dirty, and most likely inhumane. That said, the drive through the mountains/along the coast to get there, along with the fun of feeding various animals was pretty cool.

But of course, no Trousdell adventure comes without complications...

When we got home from our long, hot day yesterday, we thought Nolan had heat exhaustion. He was boiling hot and cranky, so we laid low and treated his fever. He remained hot all night and this morning cried off and on. Luckily, our resort has a doctor on site. I am thankful for this because if we would have had to leave the resort, or even if we were home in Canada we probably would not have taken him to a doctor just 12 hours after a fever began. But knowing it was just steps away made it very easy. And good thing we did - poor little guy has 2 ear infections and tonsilitis :(  So now he's on antibiotics, we treat the pain and fever, and keep his ears above the water (when he's ready to swim - he's in no state for that today). Hopefully it clears up quickly and he's back to his happy go lucky self.

We're now half way through the trip, and so thankful we have another week. This week will probably be a bit more quiet, although we do have a trip planned for up the coast to Bucerias. We've found some great restaurants and will continue to explore on that front. It is just soooo hot here (weather says it's 33 but feels like 48!) so we need to take it easy for the kids - and me - I'm a bit of a wimp in the heat!

Happy Canadian Thanksiving to our friends and family - wish we were there for some turkey action!  

I Have a Confession

I have a confession and I'm not proud of it. I've wondered whether I should keep it to myself or share it with the world. But often times when you feel guilty about something there is a strange part of you that thinks you'll find relief by spilling the beans. So here goes.

I am NOT looking forward to the upcoming Canucks season. AT ALL.  In fact I feel a sense of dread.

There I said it. And I feel sick about it.

Did you think I was going to admit to something shocking and meaningful?! Well if you don't find this shocking and meaningful for me, then you haven't gotten to know me very well have you?*

Here's the thing. Last season was rough on me. I gave my heart and soul to that team. I watched every single regular season game, plus every playoff game. That's 107 games people! My children ate dinner at intermission and went to bed late. I logged more hours in front of the TV than I ever have in my entire life. I loved these boys like they were my second husbands brothers. And in the end, the disappointment was heartbreaking.

Let me use a little relationship analogy here...

I loved someone very, very much. I put everything into our relationship. There were times when I got angry and bitter, but more often than not I was loving and supportive. When times were tough, when others would have run, or jumped off the proverbial bandwagon, I stayed.

But then they hurt me. BADLY. I shouldn't have been surprised - they hurt me like this 17 years ago too. But I was young then - more eager to bounce back and forgive. But this time I had so much more invested. Should I take comfort that many others were hurt at the same time and I am not alone in my despair? Maybe. But instead I find myself envious that they can forgive more easily and are ready to wipe the slate clean looking forward to the future.

I even find myself with wandering eyes, checking out the Winnipeg Jets others. They are new and shiny and exciting, offering so much promise - an evil temptress.

In the end, I know I will forgive, of that I am certain. But to say "I'm over it" would be a lie. I need time and space to work through things.

So tonight, when the puck drops for the first regular season game, I will not be in attendance (ok, maybe I will, I'm pretty sure JT will drag us to a restaurant that's showing the game). But even if I'm physically watching, my heart won't be there. I'm trying. I'm catching snippets of the pre-season and attempting to let them woo me, but the attraction, at this point, is still not there.

Come April I know I'll be ready. At least that's what I'm working towards. But now, the pain is too fresh.

*I know this is the single most idiotic post I have ever written. But as I wrote every word I laughed. Not because I'm silly (ok I am) but because the amount of drama I portrayed is actually true. If you're not a Canucks fan, I hope this post at least made you smile at my ridiculousness. 

Quick Update

First things first - there is not left shift key. Therefore, if i need to capitalize a letter using my left pinky, it's not happening. So forgive the typing. now onwards....

We're here in mexico. The flight went about as well as could be expected. Although it was awkward and uncomfortable sitting 5 of us in 3 seats, the kids were great.

our resort, in the marina area, is absolutely amazing. our room has an incredible ocean view where we spend the evening on the deck, enjoying the sunset. our deck even has a hot tub on it, although who knows when that ever gets used in this heat! the rooms (we have a 1 br suite) are huge and luxurious and we could not want for anything else in terms of accommodation.

the pool has been a huge hit with all three kids. it stays shady pretty much all morning which is perfect for the kids and it is really quiet in terms of other guests. The property has a lovely sandy beach, but the water is a little rough, so the kids can only sit and let the tide wash over them. The water is as warm as a bath though, so it's a very different ocean that what Rio is used to.

The entire resort is quite small - in a good way. Both the pool and the beach are steps away which makes it pretty easy with all the kids and the gear we take with us everywhere. The bus stop is literally out front of the resort and there is a small grocery store directly across the street. We did venture by bus to Walmart though - quite the adventure. i hate Walmart enough in Canada much less in another country! We will try at all costs to get anything we need at the smaller stores.

We've spent most of the trip so far at the pool or beach, or wandering around the marina looking for food and being hounded by time share presenters! it is very quiet at this time of year in puerto vallarta, so it seems we have the place to ourselves - great when you are traveling with the amount of people and stuff we are, but an easy target for people trying to sell you stuff when you are the only ones on the street!

Tomorrow we take our first adventure into the centre of town to check out the markets, shops and restaurants, along with a walk along the malecon. The kids have been so easy going anywhere we've taken them so far, so we envision a really nice day tomorrow.

At the moment the kids are all asleep in the two cool a/c rooms, while jordan reads on the deck. outside is a bit warm for me at this time of day, hence why i decided now would be a good time to hit up the a/c business centre before i brave the deck with jordan. 

will update more in a few days!       

When Blackberries Attack

First attempt at auto-publishing while we're in Mexico. If you see this, it worked! A bit boring I know, but a pretty cute way to occupy the blog while I'm not doing many real-time updates.

Our neighbourhood (and our yard in particular) have been over run with blackberries this fall. That makes for some very happy, and messy boys - as you can tell by how much of it Asher is wearing.

 That smile. Seriously.