Germ warfare

Spring is sprung around here this week! After one of the oddest, mildest, Michigan winters I can recall, I expected to get hit with a hard, cold spring. Instead, plants are shooting up, and John and I dug out sandals to go to his swim lesson this morning. (Okay, so at 50 degrees, sandals may be pushing it a bit, but it felt great.)

Unfortunately, I have heard that we may suffer this summer from our mild winter. Predictions are for a nasty allergy season, because things didn't get killed. Time will tell - John has already started an allergic cough, and he doesn't usually get one. Fortunately, our asthmatic Maggie is doing fine - the maintenance inhaler she takes now seems to help a lot.

CAUTION: the rest of the post contains graphic descriptions of bodily functions. Read at your own risk.

We suffered this week from what felt very much like winter - the stomach flu hit our house. In a break from tradition, this one started with Mom. I woke up feeling a bit "off" on Monday morning, and after a coupld of hours I was headed back home to bed. Actually, the couch, which was my first mistake. Jeremy was able to cover my lectures for the day, but that left me in charge on the home front. I was vomiting regularly, including every time I rolled over. So, how to keep a busy 13-month-old safe? (And incidentally, why is it, again, that there aren't substitute moms that we can call in, like substitute teachers, to take over when mom is sick?)

I hauled up our play yard-fence from the lower-level playroom. It is a hexagonal-shaped structure, similar to a series of baby-gates, that is free-standing, and can be squashed into different shapes. Seems like a great plan. We keep it in the playroom to put Helen inside of, because she likes to be near the kids when they are down there, but try as I might, I can't keep them from dropping marbles, legos, and other choking hazards about the room. So, the yard is supposed to be her "safe place," with only baby toys inside. The only problem is, she hates it. If someone else gets in first, then puts her in with them later, she will sometimes tolerate it, for a short time. Otherwise, she clearly understands that it is jail. She is generally a very quiet, content baby - but not when we put her in jail.

So, I had this brilliant idea, born of desperation. I set myself up on the couch with a phone, vomit bowl, mug of water (hoping that I might be able to drink it eventually) and blanket. I hauled up the play yard with one hand, holding the vomit bowl in the other as I went. I put the yard right next to the couch, so I could reach over the edge to her. I had originally planned to open up one side of it, so it would be like I (on the couch) was inside with her. But then I realized that she would climb over me to the end table by my head, and spill the mug and drop the phone in the vomit bowl.  So, plan B. I closed up the yard into a hexagon, then I put in some toys she hasn't seen in a while, smiled encouragingly, and plopped her in. She screamed instantly.

Fortunately, I was sick enough that this didn't actually bother me. I dozed on and off through her screaming, knowing that she was at least safe, if mad. Until I opened my eyes to find that she was learning how to climb out. At this moment, I confess I was less excited than usual that God has gifted us with a gross-motor-skills-precocious child. She had her feet up the grid to about 18 inches off the floor, and was leaning over the top of the gate from her waist down. To be honest, I was too sick to worry about her simply falling out - I was sure she would survive. But if she got out while I was dozing, then there could be a safety issue. I was sleeping in fits and starts, but like the dead when I was out.

So I did what any good nursing mom does - I tried knocking her out with breastmilk. Thanks be to God, it worked this time. She snuggled in next to me on the couch, and nursed and napped with me for quite some time. I thought I had made it. I slept blissfully in short stretches. During one of the times I woke up to vomit (right over her sweet little head, poor sleeping thing), I phoned Jeremy and he agreed to get John from preschool over his lunch break between teaching his classes and mine. While not recommended as great all-the-time parenting, I knew John could happily survive one afternoon glued to computer games, so he would be fine at home.

Then, the problem. My hips were starting to ache from lying on the couch in the same position for so long. And then, I threw out my back during some violent projectile vomiting, while twisted at a funny angle trying to keep the bowl above the sleeping baby's head. [This is something nobody ever warned me about getting older - I could throw out my back by vomiting? This is truly an indignity of aging.]

My whole body was screaming - there would be no sleeping now. I had to move. Gingerly, I flipped my head to the other end of the couch. No dice. Helen popped awake, and after her long nap with me, was more than ready to be awake. Back in the play yard? Well, I couldn't sleep anyway (screaming back) and so I let her out to play for a while. I was doing okay, just lying still. And then, of course, she pooped. It was inevitable. I knew it would happen. But I confess, I honestly calculated how many HOURS until Jeremy would be home again, before I summoned the courage to go change her. Thankfully, she followed me upstairs, so I only had to lift her to the changing table. This effort, of course, led to vomiting, so I held her with one hand while neatly hitting the bag in the diaper pail. I am sure I didn't imagine that she wiggled even more than usual for that diaper change, but I eventually got her clean and down on the floor. I went to wash my hands, which was a convenient place for some projectile vomiting into the toilet. Unfortunately, I wasn't expecting the force, and made a mess that would have to be cleaned up. Now, I have Helen running around somewhere, an open (dirty) toilet - which is a siren's call to Helen to play in it - and I have to get across the hall to where we keep the bleach wipes. All without any more vomiting.  I am not really sure how that all happened, but somehow, I got the toilet sterilized, my hands washed, the dirty diaper in the garage, and found Helen before she played with anything dirty or dangerous.

After that, it was all kind of a blur. But I did call on Jeremy again - I begged him to come get Helen and take her along to pick up the older kids at school. From that point on, I slept like the dead for many hours. This was helped along by moving to my bed, where my aching hips, at least, felt much better than they had on our 17-year-old couch. By late that evening, I could keep down enough water to take motrin for the wrenched lower back, and all was good.

So really, reading back over this story, I have to give a shout-out to my awesome husband. I can't have a substitute mom for the day, but he pulled through as dad and mom and professor, as well as any one superhero could manage.

And, spring is in the air. Winter germs should be gone soon. Except, James woke up today with stomach flu.


Postscript. Jeremy just read this post and reports that I didn't do quite as well as I had thought. Apparently, when he got home at lunchtime with John, and I was sleeping on the couch thinking she was safe (or perhaps sleeping on the couch thinking I was awake and watching her), he found a scene of mild mayhem. He reports: Helen had climbed up to the table and found an open bag of Cheerios. (It was just the bag liner from the cereal box - we don't know if she got it out of the box or she found it that way.) She was walking around feeding herself happily. When Jeremy walked in, she squealed and ran away, swinging the bag over her head and scattering Cheerios to the four winds and every part of the house. (He says it was her "playful" squeal - the one that means, "I know I am not supposed to be doing this, but it is fun. It is even more fun if you catch me doing it, so I will let you notice and then giggle and run away fast.")

Competitive Family Building

I get some of the most interesting comments from the kids while we are in the car together. Today, out of the blue, John remarked, "Hey, mom? You know our friends, the G____? Well, they have a lot of children in their family."

"Yes, you're right, John" (They have eight.)

Then, all was silent in the car for several minutes, but John was apparently still thinking on this topic. He soon piped in with, "Mom, you should grow more babies in your tummy, until we have more kids than the G____."

"Oh, really? You think we should have a bigger family? Well, how many kids would be enough, do you think?"

"Umm...eighty-one."

"Hmm. That is more than we can manage, I think."

"Well, then, how about just nine?"

What a difference a year makes!

Here is Helen in her tub as a newborn (2 weeks old), lying on the newborn sling attachment to hold her up. The, on her first birthday, when she sits up and fills the tub all by herself. She is actually a smallish one-year-old, but she has certainly come a long way!

Birthday video

Helen likes to dance. We couldn't capture that here - she was both tired and a bit overwhelmed. But we tried.

And here she sings a bit, too.

Helen's Birthday, In Pictures

Good Morning, Sunshine! I'm ONE today!

The first present of the day was a big, white, stuffed valentine's dog, from Grandpa Tom. Helen found it on the floor and helped herself to it. She did love the dog, but the "happy birthday" paper was nothing to sneeze at, either. She loved that she could carry paper around with her, and rip it, and no one came to stop her. Until she ate it, of course.

Feeling mellow.

Feeling like big stuff today, so she thought she should sit in a "big" chair like the big people do.

Helen with Mom and Grandma Di

Opening the ABC Dinosaur from Great Aunt Sue and Great Grandma Helen. Again, the paper was a big hit, but she liked the toy, too. Especially when she learned that it could play music. She really, really likes music - she always dances, as if under a compulsion, when music plays in her hearing.

I hadn't planned to get her a gift - after all, she is only one. But James and Maggie were at the store with me this week and wanted her to have this book. It is another "peek-a-boo" style book from the same series as the "Baby Baa Baa" book that she got for Christmas from Grandma Di and loves so much. And Helen, more than any 12-month-old I have yet known of, really does appreciate a book. If for no other reason, than because they are so tasty.

Helen looked mostly scared when we all sang Happy Birthday to her. Given her aforementioned love of all things musical, could this be her commentary on the family singing abilities? This grin might be due to her relief that we were all done singing. Blowing out the candle was not even remotely on her radar, but the rest of us helped. And she did looked startled when it suddenly went out!

Happy baby.
I am ot sure if that grin is from the banana cake, or because she got her own spoon and fork and we turned her loose. Because I hate the mess, I really don't let her feed herself. So, that was her birthday treat.

What do Grandpas do?

Me: Hey John, Grandpa invited you to come overnight and see the MSU basketball game with him...but he only has one extra ticket, so you would be there all by yourself, without James or Maggie. Do you want to go?

John: Umm...No. [Long Pause; a sly look creeps into his eyes] Actually, Yes!

Me: Really? Are you sure?

John: Yup! 'Cause I could eat lots of junk food and watch lots of awesome TV!

Me: Ah. Well what if I told Grandpa not to let you watch any TV? Would you still want to go?

John: [In a dismissive, almost scornful tone] Yeah! 'Cause he'd still let me watch awesome TV anyway. 'Cause that is what Grandpas do.

Happy Birthday, Baby Girl!

Helen is 1 this week! It seems hard to believe that the little baby is so old already. Even the big kids have said so, and this isn't a kid-like observation, in my experience. ("I can't believe Helen is turning one already. It seems like she just got here!" remarks the 4-year-old, 7-year-old, and 10-year-old on separate occasions.) I thought it would be nice to mark the milestone with a few reflections on what she is like.

January 21, 2012 (11.5 months)

Helen at Age One

Helen loves to walk. All walking, all the time. She refuses to sink to any other form of locomotion, in fact, even to her own detriment. In the mornings, when I hear her calling from the bedroom, I dash upstairs to help her out of bed. If she possibly can, she won't crawl across our queen-size mattress to get off; instead, she stands up where she is, right in the middle, and tries to walk across to me at the edge. If any of you have tried to walk on one of the newer styles of mattress lately, you might realize that the thick, squishy, memory foam top is not good for this. She stumbles and trips all the way across. Still, after each fall, she steadies herself and pushes back to standing and walking; she is not going to suffer the indignity of crawling across the bed like a baby! Then, when she finally gets to the edge of the bed, she has to call for help to get down. Since we don't use a bed frame or box springs, our kids have always learned fairly early to slide down to the floor by themselves. Not Helen, though. She tried going off head-first a few times, then tried walking off feet-first. She quickly gave up and now just calls for help.

Helen the walking baby shows off her new Christmas present dress from Aunt Sue (1-15-12; 11 months old)

She has the same sort of problem with stairs. We have showed all the kids how to crawl down the stairs backwards as soon as they learned to climb up them, to give them a safe way down. James and Maggie both caught on to this very quickly. For John, of course, he tried it about once before deciding that sliding on his belly like an otter was much better than crawling - but he always got down safely on his own, at least. So Helen is a bit of a mystery to us. She absolutely refuses to learn how to do this. She crawls up steps with great enthusiasm, but when she is done exploring the upper worlds, she has to resort to standing at the top and again calling piteously for someone to bring her back down. Her problem with the steps seems to be just pure stubbornness. She won't drop to all fours, and she won't go backwards, both of which are required to safely navigate steps that are a quarter of one's total body height.

So, no going down. Other than that, she is highly mobile after nearly 2 months of walking practice.

Helen's first Christmas (2011).

Which is not to say that she is completely graceful. This week, in particular, has been hard on her. She has been bleeding from her mouth at least 4 times in the last 5 days. The combination of having 7 teeth (4 up; 3 down), a tottering gait, and a rambunctious 4-year-old brother has led to some unfortunate  and bloody face plants. Her cheeks are bruised just enough to look perpetually dirty. I am so glad that I have a distinct memory from the other kids that this is at least marginally normal. I recall thinking for several of the older ones that I would have to work hard to convince the pediatrician at the 12-month check-up that I wasn't an abusive parent despite all the bumps and scrapes. I must say that the bleeding every day is a new one for me - which is saying something with a fourth child, I think.

Helen loves to play in cupboards. Our kitchen is a jerry-rigged with every kind of contrivance to keep her out, most to no avail. (It was a source of great entertainment to our senior engineering students when they came for an evening, finding all the improvised anti-Helen devices.) Of course, part of the problem is that we have given up on purchased safety devices after John overcame or broke them all at this age. I thought I was on to something when we visited our friends the Greers and they had a fancy-looking new kind of cabinet latch - but alas. Helen figured those out almost instantly. So instead, we have rubber bands around knobs, yardsticks through drawer pulls, and other fun gadgets. She appears to have a very analytic, mechanical, inquisitive mind. She loves to study how contraptions work, and take them apart bit by bit. I am quite sure she understands how the rubber bands work; she just isn't quite strong to pull them off.

So the end result is that whenever she finds an opening, she unpacks the cupboards. She especially likes the snack cupboard, because once she is in then there are boxes inside to unpack even further. Packets of hot cocoa mix, sleeves of crackers, granola bars, plastic cups ... endless fun. We were at church a few weeks ago and I set her down for a moment. She took off like a shot, straight down the long hall and into the church kitchen. I know she has never been in this room before, but somehow she could just smell it. First thing she did in there? Of course - open the cupboards.

I have gotten used to the contents of my kitchen cabinets being strewn about all of the time. I can learn to just overlook that, I guess. It was a bit more distressing, however, when she managed to not only empty out, but somehow dismantle, the large bottom drawer. She was sitting in it, pleased as could be. The drawer was off the track and on the floor, and there were some random screws on the floor. I honestly don't know how she managed that in the few moments while I was in the next room.

Her favorite place to play is the drawer under the oven. She opens it, pulls out the items we store there, and climbs in. Then she just beams at us, as if sitting in this drawer is the core purpose of her days on earth.

"Who, me? I wasn't doing anything." - Helen at almost 10 months (12-1-11).

Helen is not much of a talker. Sometime over the past month, her first word emerged: BOOK. Actually, when she says it, there is no "k," so it sounds more like "buuh." But she does use it consistently for her board books, which she loves. Granted, she loves to eat them at least as much as she loves to read them, but she will also sit with her book for some time, just studying the pictures. At the moment, she is particularly fond of a new one she got for Christmas, with farm animals, called "Baby Baa Baa." She loves to hear the animal sounds. In fact, when she first started asking for her book, I think she was saying "baa baa" rather than "book," although she quickly dropped that.

I have heard just a few other possible words emerging from her. She says "buuh" (the same sound) in ways that sometimes seem to mean "brother." She definitely makes a sound like "Maa" or "mom" now, although it is rarely clear if she actually is asking for her mother. Her first babble-sound was "da-da-da" but I haven't heard that lately, either as a word or a babble.

Other things Helen loves to do:

• Have a bath. 
• Use the toilet (Really! - she will often go if we put her on at the right time, and she grins all over when she does). 
• Sneak into Maggie's room (just because it makes Maggie mad, I think). 
• Dance (if there is any sort of music, or even just rhythmic clapping, she will start to sway and bounce). 
• Climb onto James's bed (the lower bunk). Once there, she typically just twists the bed spindles to enjoy the hideous squeaking sound, but the other night, she hit the jackpot because James had left the laptop on his bed after doing some homework. I found Helen sitting on the bed in front of it, enthusiastically typing away in James's document.
• Look out the window. Any window.
• Be near the big kids.
• Play the piano. (She can't see the keys, but on tip-toe she can just reach up and plunk them. She is rather melodious at times.)

Helen enjoys food. It seems to me that she eats more than the others did at this age, but that could be my poor memory. She certainly is the smallest of any of them for the age, so it seems unlikely. She mostly still eats baby food, since she has no molars. She does seem to enjoy anything we try to offer her, though, if she can possibly mash it down. She is particularly fond of bananas (she can eat nearly a whole one in a sitting) and pancakes (ate two good-sized ones for lunch the other day). If she sees something that she wants to eat, she looks at it intently and laughs. Just a very deliberate, focused, "Heh." Then she looks at the person whom she is expecting will deliver it to her, to be sure they got the message. Quiet, polite, but insistent.

Helen with Dad, 12-10-11 (10 months)

Helen with Grandpa Tom, 12-24-11 (10 months)

Helen is a cheerful, good-natured baby. She really just rolls with anything. Often literally. She screams now and then when put in her car seat, but usually only if she is tired or hungry already when we try to buckle her in. She clings a bit when she is hungry and fusses unconvincingly when tired. Otherwise, she just goes happily about her business.