Playing catch up

Time to catch up on Hudson's G&D and the rest of the goings-on around these parts.

Hudson is now 21 months. Soon he will hit age two and possibly develop a case of the "terribles" - but I cannot stress about something I haven't ever experienced, so I will enjoy this stage and take it as it comes! And actually, as he gets older, he is becoming more...enjoyable. Is that a terrible thing for a mom to say? I guess what I mean is that he is getting easier to entertain for more than 30 seconds at a time, his brain is starting to comprehend a few more things (action=consequence for example!), and his personality is really starting to come through.

Hudson in his (my) new favorite shirt.

He is a personable little guy. When we go out somewhere, he says, "Hi," to just about everyone we pass and will even compliment women on their jewelry at times by pointing to their earrings or necklace and saying, "Pretty...pretty." We have had to enlist the help of different people at different times to watch him for a few hours when myself and Ty's work schedules conflict, and so far Hudson seems to enjoy the change of face/scenery and will even ask for them days after! My mom watched Hudson while Ty and I were away in Mexico, and just yesterday he asked for "Gayle" ("Gayo? Gayo?" he says).

He is a boy through and through. Rocks, sticks, digging in the dirt, and throwing things are his absolute favorite things to do. He explores his world with complete unrestraint, and I just love watching him. He reminds me of everything I want to be!

Out digging in the backyard.

Chucking a monster rock.

"DIG!"

 This curious creature can get himself into some trouble sometimes. A couple of weeks ago I was busy sewing at the kitchen table and Hudson was playing on the couch just a few feet away, when all of a sudden he started crying and ran towards me, holding out his hand. At first, I didn't see anything wrong, but upon seeing my sewing scissors left abandoned on the floor, I put two and two together and looked a little closer at his hand. That's when I saw the blood, the gash, and the two flaps of skin that were once joined together at the knuckle. I quickly covered it with a paper towel just to put a little pressure on it, all the while fighting with a shrieking toddler who did NOT want his owie to be pressed on (I mean, with good reason). I held it like this for a minute or two, but when I released the pressure slightly, I realized that it was bleeding even more than I initially thought. I called to Ty who was upstairs to give me hand holding the boy down, and when he came down and saw the deep cut, we both agreed that we should take him to the Morris hospital, seeing as Hudson was still thrashing and fighting with us to even put a little pressure on his wound. Maybe if we had a decent bandage at home we would have just dealt with it ourselves, but as it was, we only had little teeny bandaids that would have lasted all of ten seconds with how it was bleeding. So off we went, and were back within an hour and a half, with Hudson's hand properly bandaged, and my "mommy guilt" (as the ER nurse called it) assuaged. Note to self: If having chest pain or anything serious, DO NOT go to the Morris Emergency. It took almost five minutes of us waiting at the entrance to be buzzed in, not to mention the long walk up a slanty hallway and a bunch of stairs to get there. As my brother in law Erik (jokingly) said, "Your best bet would be to call 911 and wait at the local Subway for them to pick you up." Funny guy. But true.

One of the bigger changes in the past while is completely getting rid of nursing. Feel free to skip this paragraph if nursing-talk isn't your thing - I completely understand! I didn't really get why new moms were always discussing their boobs with eachother, but all of a sudden when you have a newborn and become completely consumed with getting that little baby fed (and allll the issues that come with it), then you all of a sudden get it. ANYWAY. By the time my little guy's first birthday rolled around, I could already tell that weaning was going to be a bit of a challenge. But July 15th was my back to work date, and Hudson actually accepted the fact that I wasn't always going to be around to nurse him at bedtime pretty well. So the months went on - I still nursed him a little bit every day, but only really before naps and at bedtime. Then in October I went away for 4 nights, and I hoped that by the time I got back, he would mysteriously forget about it. Well, he didn't. But the thing is, I wasn't really pushing for him to stop anyway. There's alot of research that shows the benefit of breast milk all the way up to age two, so I thought if he still "asked" for it (and by that, I mean shouting out, "Boo boo! Boo boo!" and yanking open my shirt in front of anyone and everyone - some smartie pants, namely me, called breastfeeding "Boobie time" once and Hudson seemed to catch on to it rather quickly), then I would comply. I mean, not every time he asked, but if it was while he was winding down for some rest, then yes. I have tried to keep this more or less to myself, because I know how opinionated people can be on this issue (and every other issue regarding rearing children). I was told when Hudson was newborn that even breastfeeding him up to a year would be "weird".Everyone will make their own choices based on what they think is right, so let's stop the judgments! ANYWAY. The whole thing took a different turn in the past month or so. Hudson would throw a fit if I didn't nurse him when he asked for it, and he was starting to have night wakings again where the only thing that he wanted was to nurse. That was when I decided that I had had enough. So Sunday, a week and a half ago, I let Hudson scream at me for a good half an hour at 11:00pm when I refused him. Then he woke up at 3:30am and I let my guilty conscience get the best of me, and nursed him for a few minutes. But that, my friends, was the last time he nursed, and will hopefully stay that way. Since then, he magically has had NO night wakings, and has been generally alot happier. He still asks for "boo boo" once or twice a day, but seems to accept my answer of, "No, you're a big boy now", and goes on his way. I am very confident that this was the right time to stop, and now we can tackle other issues. Such as potty training. Grr. Don't remind me.

In other news, we are still plugging away at getting things in line for our cross-country move in (eek) less than three months. I am still more on the trepidation side of things than the excited side, due to the many loose ends we have floating around here, but once I start getting things in boxes next month (right now I'm concentrating on sewing sewing sewing), I think it will start feeling more real. Of all people, my manager kind of summed things up for me when I told her about our plans to move, which brought on a conversation about the different places I've lived over the past years. She said, "If God gave you roots, you would have settled somewhere by now." Hmm. A thought to grow on (hee hee, pardon the pun). We still don't know what this move means for our future, but that part of it I am becoming less and less worried about.

We also had a rough weekend two weekends ago. Not so much rough for us, but for the people around us. It started out on that Thursday with Hudson gashing up his poor little finger. Then the next day our littlest niece, Eden, had to go in for surgery to remove a growth on her tongue that she was born with. She is still in "recovery mode", as feeding her after experiencing all that pain on the inside of her mouth has been a huge challenge for Amber, and Eden. Prayers for them would be appreciated! As well, on that same weekend Ty's grandpa was back in the hospital for a few days. We visited him the same night we visited Eden in the hospital, and while it was good to see everyone with our own eyes and know that God was looking out for them, it was still not the ideal place that we would have liked to be seeing them. Ty's grandpa was diagnosed with multiple myeloma (cancer of the blood) four years ago - and was given a four year prognosis. He has done remarkably well over the past years, going in for dialysis three times a week (with an hour drive each way), but lately has been having more health issues. Prayers for him and Ty's grandma would also be appreciated.

Ty's grandparents and Hudson at his 1st birthday.

In the midst of all this other stuff, Hudson woke up on Saturday morning pale, listless and feverish. I took his temperature, and the thermometer read 39.3 C. As a nurse, I immediately get on the nervous side when an adult spikes a temp of 38.0 or higher, so it took me a couple of self-reminders that toddlers are allowed to have higher temperatures without anything being seriously wrong, and not to panic! I did give him some tylenol and a lukewarm bath though, and we went downstairs to watch a movie together. His temperature fluctuated throughout the day, even going up to 39.6 at one point. His other symptoms weren't incredibly worrisome though (despite his very uncharacteristic lack of spunk), so we gave tylenol every four hours and let him rest when he needed. It was a rough night with him crying every couple of hours, but by Sunday morning the temp was down, and he was partially full of beans again. Random virus I guess? And then later that night was when I cut out nursing, as I mentioned before. So, rough weekend indeed.

Barely peeking open his eyes to watch Lighting McQueen.

We knew he was not feeling well when he curled up with his blankie on the living room floor and fell asleep for an hour.

Anyways, that's enough chatter for now! I've got an oven full of supper to tend to and a little boy begging for "donkey" (the movie, Shrek, in other words). Here are a couple more pictures of Hudson to finish things off:

Apparently one rock wasn't good enough...

Look how handsome!!