Happy Birthday, Daddy!!!

Sending out some huge birthday wishes to my sweet husband! You are an amazing man, a devoted husband, and a brilliant father! We love you so much!

(If you liked this video, check out last year's post!)

Summer Sillies!

I'm a few weeks late it getting these pictures up, but here they are. Summer is a time for silly and light hearted things . . . . Like Malcolm's new haircut!

Ankle Update & a Cute Malcolm Story

First an update . . . officially the doc has diagnosed Malcolm with "a stress injury" which means he probably twisted his ankle, or pulled a muscle, or some such while playing as three year olds are wont to do. He gets to wear his "boot" for 7 to 10 days, then I call the doctor back and we'll go from there. Along the way, the doctor ordered X-rays (to check for fractures) and blood work (to check for infection, sickle cell, etc.) All tests came back clean, so no worries there.

But, this order for blood work meant that Malcolm had to get a needle! His first in a very long time. The last "poke" he got, he was too young to remember, so in many important ways, this was a first for him. Of course, as a child life specialist, the first thing I asked for was Emla, LMX, cold spray, buzzy, j-tip, or any sort of dermal anesthesia at all! Sadly, the lab had none. So, with no help on that front, I was left with preparation, medical play, modeling, positioning for comfort and distraction as my tools to get him thru the blood draw with minimal negative effect.

The lady who did the draw was fantastic! Super professional, cheerfully agreed to my requests for positioning and such, and hit the vein on the first try! Malcolm sat in my lap, with his legs tucked securely between mine, and my arms wrapped around his tummy and left arm, in a big "bear hug." The nurse showed him the "big blue rubber band" which he seemed a little unsure of, so I held my arm out, and she tied it around my arm, to show him what it was for. At my request, when she put it on him, she did it over his shirt sleeve (hurts less than on the skin!) Next came the alcohol swab "cold and wet!" then the poke. I told him that "it's going to poke your skin. It might hurt a little, but it will be over very quick. Your job is to hold your arm still." Then . . . . . poke!

Would you believe it? Three years old . . . and he held perfectly still. He didn't cry, yell, scream, or pull away. He didn't even flinch! He just sat there and watched. I thought for a moment that it might be one of those super rare pokes, where the nurse manages to miraculously slide the needle between nerve endings, but no. As she started to fill the second tube, Malcolm calmly announced "Oh, well . . . that kind of just hurts a little bit." That was it. Then we sang ABCs together while she finished filling the various tubes with blood. I couldn't be more proud of him! What an amazing young man. Needless to say, I showered him in exuberant praise, telling him what an amazing job he did holding still. The nurse was amazed, and showered him in stickers, and asked me if he was really only three. The tech who had the role of holding his arm still felt entirely superfluous, I think.

I'm interested to see what his response will be if he needs to get another needle anytime in the next few months. Whether he'll remember this, and if he does whether the remembered pain makes him anxious, or the remembered success and mastery makes him confident. I'm guessing the latter. In the car ride home, he told me "She took my blood, Mommy. It really hurt a lot, but it was over really fast, and I held so very very still!"

And now for a completely unrelated story . . . .

When I arrived home sick from my trip to Phoenix last week (head cold), I didn't want to spread it to my sweet son. So when he tried to kiss my face, I told him that I was sick, and would only kiss his belly, so that I didn't give him my germs. Malcolm took this in stride, and gleefully accepted many belly kisses. Later in the day, he asked me how I got sick. I told him that someone in the airport didn't cover their cough, so I caught their germs. In retrospect, I can see exactly how a three year old would process this information, and confabulate the two separate discussions. Nonetheless, I was completely caught off guard when, later in the evening, he told Matthew, "Daddy! Mommy kissed someone at the airport, and now she's sick!" Gotta love the way preschooler's think!

Re: The Boot and the Boy

OK, so T's post there was a little cryptic. The likely scenario here is that Mal sprained his ankle over the weekend. He was limping for a few days, but it didn't seem to slow him down all that much, and when it did, I suspect he was reading my concern about his movements more than he was having any physical troubles.

We took him for x-rays yesterday, and are waiting to hear back but we can manipulate the foot and leg without any pain really so they are very confident it's a sprain. He's in the boot for a week and a half at the max, and it's just a brace to keep pressure of the ankle. I know they did some blood work on him to rule out any unlikely but still plausible diagnoses, but we haven't heard back yet so nothing to report. Really, it is likely that we are dealing with a sprain, but I thought I would flesh out T's blog post a bit to alleviate any concerns.

Wee Walker

Friends, let me introduce the Wee Walker -- a device I never wanted to know anything about. I'll post more soon, but click on this link to find out why I have my hands full right now.

Why Does It Sound So Different When He Says It?

This afternoon, we hosted a small gathering at our home, Baha'i Feast (this is a once-a-Baha'i-month (aka every 19 days) event, that is comprised of three parts: the spiritual portion for saying prayers and such, the administrative portion to talk about events in the community, and the social portion). Most Baha'i Feasts in our community tend to take place in the evening (past bedtime for Malcolm), so it is a rare treat when Feast falls on a weekend. It did this month, so we offered to host the event in the afternoon. It was great fun, with a wonderful turn out, including the other Baha'i family in our community with young children -- twin girls about a year and a half younger than Malcolm.

Malcolm has been very excited to host Feast, helping to clean the apartment, helping me to decorate a cake to serve, practicing reciting a prayer from memory, even picking out all his musical toys to share with the guests to sing songs together (a common part of the spiritual portion). Often, when the administrative portion starts, the kids will go off to play, returning for the closing prayer and joining in on the social portion. So when we got to that part, I told Malcolm that he was welcome to stay, or that he could invite the other children to go to his room and play with toys.

For the record, my exact words to my son were "Malcolm, you may invite your friends to see your room and share in your toys." See how I model good behavior? How I use words of courtesy and welcome, like "invite" and "share"?

Does he say "Friends, please be welcome"? No. How about "Would you like to play with my toys?" No. Heck, I'd even settle for "Let's go to my room!"

Instead, he goes running by the other kids, and as he reaches the start of the hallway, he turns around and yells at the kids "Keep up!"