Photo Catch Up Time!

I've been quite lax, lately, about blogging and posting pictures. Bad Teresa, no biscuit. So, over the next week, please enjoy my pictures catch up days. Let's start with these, take last month at the storybook exhibit at our local museum.

Malcolm never pulled the sword from the stone . . . but you gotta admire his sincere efforts!

I Love My Job

It's been a while since I've written anything about my job as a Child Life Specialist. Or, per my last post on the subject, I should rightly say Certified Child Life Specialist (CCLS). I have had an amazing few weeks, culminating in my reflection this evening: I love my job.

I would love to blog all about some of my amazing patients, and how child life services have made a difference for them, but can't without violating their trust and privacy -- which I value far above and beyond the HIPPA laws.

Instead, let me share with you the impact my work is having on me . . . I wake up in the morning, think about my upcoming day, and this completely genuine smile slow melts across my face, as I think I get to go to work today. There have been so many days this month, where driving home from work, I think to myself, I really made a difference today in the life of a child. I helped that family through a terrible and painful ordeal. I made the hard stuff a little bit easier. Sure, there are some days when I feel like I've worked 8 hours straight and accomplished nothing but answering a bunch of emails, handing out a bunch of crayons, and attending a bunch of meetings. But I know those things are part of the foundation that a quality child life practice is built upon. And I truly don't mind days like that.

But what I love most, is days like today. Days when I see tears of gratitude in a father's eyes. I feel so lucky to wake up each day, and go to my job where I do meaningful and gratifying work.

And at the end of the day, I get to come home and snuggle my sweet son, and amazing husband, and know that I am so lucky to have them, and their support. Driving home I think, I love my job and I am so glad I got to go to work today. And now I'm going home to my family, I love that even more!

Lellow Sullery

It's Beatlemania hear in the Schoell household. My brother, Darin, gifted our family with Beatles Rock Band for Christmas -- a gift we've all enjoyed greatly! Please enjoy this lovely home movie . . . Be sure to note in the very beginning of the video the quality high score in the upper right hand corner. For the Rock Band fans out there, you can also follow the skill with which which he plays!

A Small Piece of Creation

I have no pictures to post with this story . . . though the memories that go with it will remain vivid in my mind and heart throughout my whole life.

As many of my blog readers all ready know, Michelle, Malcolm's birthmom is expecting again, due New Year's Eve. This will be her fourth child (Malcolm being #2 of the 4) and the last she plans to have for a while. Mike, her boyfriend, is very excited to welcome his first-born, and eager to parent alongside Michelle. I asked if he was excited to become a father. "I'm already a Dad," Mike told me, referring to Nahlo and Noah, Michelle's other 2 boys, who he and Michelle are raising together. "This is just my first child that I'll be related to by blood."

Earlier this week, Michelle's doctor sent her to the hospital for bedrest until the baby arrived. When I arrived yesterday to visit her at the hospital, she was well into the first stages of labor! Just before my arrival, the doctor had pronounced her to be at 3 centimeters, and likely to have the baby sometime that night!

Much to my overwhelming delight, Michelle invited me to stay for the birth! Mike and Michelle both assured me (a couple times!) that I was well and truly welcome to stay, and that I would not at all be intruding on their family moment.

Just under an hour later, the doctor said she was at 9.5 centimeters and "here's we go!" Next thing I know, the midwife has positioned me at Michelle's side, holding her leg to help her brace for pushing. Let me tell you . . . we're talking front row seats! It was absolutely amazing to see this baby come into the world. I have never before had the honor of witnessing the birth of a baby. It absolutely took my breath away. By the time the baby's first cry filled the room, tears of sheer awe were streaming down my cheeks! I wish I had Michelle's talents as a poet, to find the words to express my sense of wonder and astonishment. What a beautiful, sacred moment. And what an honor to be there to witness it!

Michelle made it look easy. I know it's not, but she really made it seem so. Three quick sets of pushes, and there he was! Baby Michael, welcome to the world! 5 pounds, 15 ounces, 19.5 inches long, and two weeks early.

He came out with the cord wrapped around his neck, which I hear is very common. But seeing his little face come out, turn blue, then purple in a matter of heartbeats was . . . startling. I didn't even have time to feel any fear, as the midwife resolved the issue before my brain could scarcely begin to register it. She held the baby in place, so it wouldn't pull any tighter, slipped the clamps in place, snipped the cord, and had him loose in less time than it took me to draw a single breath. By my next breath, he was rosy pink and screaming his lungs out! Hooray!

More than a day later, and my heart is still full with the wonder of it all. I am especially amazed at the strength, composure, and courage that Michelle showed. I remember watching Michelle draw a deep breath and push, in time to the commands of her body, and thinking "She is so powerful, so resolute, so strong. This is the power of women, passed from one generation to the next, in tears and sweat and blood. The power to bring life into this world. The power to form a small part of Creation: a new life." This amazing young woman is so many things to me: my son's firstmother, my friend, the little sister of my heart, and my hero. Congratulations, Michelle! And welcome, Michael!

I Need My Mouse!

Read the story before you peek ahead to the pictures!

The other night, I was putting Malcolm to bed, and we did all the usual. We brushed his teeth, put on his jammies, read some stories, laid out the blanket from Grammy. . . you know, the usual. But when it came time to say good night, Malcolm suddenly looked up at me with

this panic-stricken look, and gasped, "Mommy, I need my mouse!"

"Do you mean your dog?" I asked, pointing to his stuffed dog, Elly Bean, tucked neatly beside

him in bed.

"No, no, no. Not that. My mouse!"

I mentally searched through the list of new toys he received for his birthday . . . no mouse. I searched my memory for any mouse toy of any kind . . . . Ah! Got it!

"Do you mean Nova's dog toy? The little grey mouse ball?"

"No, no, no. Not that. My mouse!"

Having exhausted everything I could think of, I went for a simpler solution. "Okay, Malcolm.

Go get it. Then come right back to bed." Off he ran to the living room, and I could hear him digging through his toy box. With a cry of triumph, he came running back into the bed room, holding up a blue lego with a look of great delight. "My mouse, Mommy!" he told me,

presenting his prize.

Hunh. Okay, why not? So I took the lego, and proceeded to make it crawl across his bed,

squeaking and searching for cheese.

Malcolm looked at me, giggling, and shook his head. "No, no, no, Mommy. Not that."

Then he climbed up into bed, pulling his largest story book into his lap, and twisting it sideways. He then held out his hand for the lego, and began to slide it back and forth along the book, saying "Click! Click! Click!"

And every night since, bedtime is incomplete without his "mouse" and "laptop."

Parenting Help, Please!

We're having a problem with Malcolm getting up at night ('round 3am to 4am) and coming out to the living room, booting up rock band, hauling out toys, turning on the computer. Just happy as a clam, playing as if it were 8am, and he were doing us the favor of playing peacefully so we can lay in. Except, of course, it's freakin four in the morning!!!!!? i've booby trapped the hall (think laundry basket full of spoons balanced on a box blocking the hallway, and he still makes it out without waking us up. Unplugging the TV kept him off rock band. But he climbed my desk to get my laptop down from where I hid it. I hid the laptop in our bedroom, and he went for the toy box. Grrrr. I was thinking of trying a baby gate across the hallway . . . with jingle bells attached.

I think tonight i'm going to put the dog crate sideways blocking the whole hall, then cover the top with . . . . with . . . . um . . . . tacks? No, wait, bad parenting! Not tacks . . . . glue?

Any suggestions?

Eeeeehhhh.