Surrendering normal and finding celebration....

Somewhere, amidst the now daily chaos that is trying to keep an extremely close eye on an ever increasingly mobile smurf while scheduling and confirming details for his upcoming surgery (Oh My! That reminds me - I haven't forwarded the authorisation numbers through yet!) and not forgetting the "normal" mundane tasks of housekeeping and taking care of kids, I vaguely recall a different time...what seems like just a distant memory now...of a friend, confidante, lifter-of-my-spirits. I can't always conjure up her image in my mind - it's just been far too long, but I'll never forget the joy of our times together. While rushing to catch a falling-off-the-couch smurf this morning, something caught the corner of my eye. My heart fluttered...could it be? My heart willed me - go ahead, look. It has to be her. My heart cautioned - but what if it isn't? Why put yourself through the disappointment?

My heart always overpowers my mind - and so I turned...the overwhelming emotion of laying my eyes on her created a lump in my throat as I stumbled over words, trying to utter her name as she stood there in all her glory -

BLOG POST CREATOR!

Or BPC as I lovingly refer to her. And what do you know - there on her screen, in equal radiance and beauty, was a picture of the lovely little being solely (well, almost) responsible for the lack of blog posting. Awwwhhhhh...but can you blame me? Isn't he just the most adorable little treasure? (Okay, so I am just a little biased...but indulge me, okay?)

Our little smurf is all over the place, crawling at the speed of lightening (which speed is daily honed by his unrelentless desire to catch the kitties) and THIS statement is made with little bias as, while standing in the paed's office last week, Sam covered the entire distance of the waiting room floor in a split second to get to the little girl standing on the other side, making her mom exclaim how fast he crawls. He has a habit of pulling his peers down to the floor, not out of nastiness but purely to bring to them down to his level. So when he saw this blonde hair, blue-eyed little beauty standing with her blankie on the far side of the room his little hands and knees motored across that floor with amusing "shimmying" and speed. Not only has he mastered crawling, he is now pulling himself up on everything and then quite confidently pulls himself along the length of whatever he's holding onto. As if all of that is not enough, Sam now crawls up the stairs and then tries to turn himself around to crawl back down again - this he has not yet mastered though and usually starts whimpering when he realises he's stuck.

The smurfskiing is going well and Sam is experimenting with all different kinds of equipment, from stacking cups to his Barney bus! His view is - if I can fit it under my hand, I can smurfskii with it! I bet if he could keep either one of the kitties still for half a second he'd try using them as a smurfskii-board. I am sure we'll have more pics on this topic soon....

Sam clapping for himself when I exclaimed how well he was balancing. He never misses an opportunity to applaude his own achievements, just in case we're a little too slow.

Almost daily I spend a good few instances in awe at just how intelligent this little boy is. Do you know that if you surrender all pre-conceived notions of "normal", you can find something to celebrate and appreciate in almost every aspect of your life? A perfect example - for months now I have been posting about (and, honestly) sometimes complaining about the fact that Sam is quite severely attached to me...which means he struggles to take a bottle or food from anyone else and plain and simply bursts into tears if either I leave the room or if, say, my Dad is holding him and leaves the room with Sam. Two of the more challenging issues are that he cannot be consoled by anyone else if he is upset and, perhaps the most trying, cannot be put to sleep by anyone else.Somehow that night that I stayed in hospital a couple of weeks ago, Sam knew that I was not there - that he had to be okay with being taken care of by someone else. But since then, even if we try and "wean" him off me in the evening by me trying to "fade off into the background" about half an hour before his bedtime, so that Chris can get Sam off to sleep, he just somehow knows that I am there and will cry and, ultimately, v-word until I come and take-over.

What is there to celebrate in this? Well, up until a couple of days ago, I thought it more a task than anything else. And then, on the RTS listserv, started reading mails from several RTS moms about
the heartbreaking emotions they endure when their own little RTS sweeties either fail to or have taken considerably longer to "recognise" them as their mamma's. I started e-mailing the listserv to share how super attached Sam is and also how affectionate he can be (when he's not giving me attitude). I decided not to send my thoughts though because I can only imagine how I would feel if the tables were turned and it would probably break my heart just a little bit more. So instead, I will cherish and savour each moment that Sam protests against him and I being separated and thank the Lord for how truly blessed we are.

Kindly Note : The author hereof reserves the right to amend this post/statement at any time, without notice, should exhaustion and severe backpain begin to cloud her judgement. Thank you.

Talking about attitude - on Tuesday Sam, Chris and I were lying on the bed and Sam was trying to get Chris and I to knock on the headboard for him. It being the end of a rather long day with me trying to do a painkiller-free day since the op, I was not particularly up to lying and knocking on the headboard (horror of horrors!) so instead folded my arms underneath me so that Sam would hopefully stop trying to pull them over to knock. Sam stopped, looked at Chris (knocking frantically to keep Sam happy), looked at me...took a step forwarded and bashed me straight on the nose! My warped idea of how to find something to celebrate in this? That this little mite of a human being is prepared to stand up and fight for what he believes he truly deserves....which in this case was plain and simple obedience.Okay, it took a couple of tears (mine, not Sam's), some tissues to stop my bleeding nose and a couple of days to work through the whole process to get to this point, but at least I'm here :)

So, Sam's surgery is scheduled for 12 August at 8:00am...beginning first with his annual glaucoma examination, then the removing of his adenoids and lastly the process to rectify his undescended testes. It looks like we might get away with coming home the same day but will probably discuss this further closer to the time or, rather, on the day.

In closing : I captured THE most awesome video of Sam jamming to Bruno Mars, but with Sam's ever exploring fingers of anything remotely technical (cellphones, remotes, keyboards, etc) he has somehow deactived my phone's facility to download pics/video's to the pc. I am devastated - to the point that I am going to take my phone in to my service provider tomorrow to ask them how to remedy this, so here's hoping there'll be a post on Sam's blog tomorrow, headed : Sam Luvin' Bruno Mars

A Merry Martyr

Don't you love how "casual" dads are about taking care of the kids? How they shrug off our, seemingly, feigned exhaustion at the end of each day because when THEY take care of the kids it's just no fuss at all? Well of course it ain't, because if I could spend the entire day just playing with Sam without having to constantly ensure it's constructive, stimulated play, without having to tidy the house, make the beds, wash bottles, make up a day's formula, drop and fetch the other kids from school, do the washing, etc etc....I would also end each day with a smile and a load of energy to boot!

Still, it was a huge relief to hear that Monday night had gone smoothly with none of the usual hysteria that has become synonymous with Chris putting Sam to bed. Such a relief in fact that I decided to take full advantage of Chris' eagerness to see to Sam for the next couple of days and, in anticipation, had pvr'd a good couple of movies I'd been wanting to watch over the past month or twelve, as well as stocking up on some mags to keep me occupied in between my intended movie marathon while seeing my recovery out in bed! Aaaahhh....the joy of disillusionment. I got home from the hospital just past 11am on Tuesday, made my way to the bedroom...do not look in the kitchen...do not look in the bathroom...do not pass Begin, go straight to jail...uhm, I mean, bed! Do not be THAT Mom, I told myself. The kind of mom that is desperate for some rest but when eventually presented with the opportunity to take it (even if it takes a surgery to get to that point), lets guilt and imagined (hopefully) expectations get the better of her. You know the kind, I think they also go by the name of merry martyr...LOL! By Tuesday evening I had washed Sam's bottles, made his formula, put on the dirty laundry and fed Sam. Do I regret it? Of course! I have now either contracted flu or something similar as I have a sore throat, headache, temp, earache and possibly the most entertaining - continuous sneezing which in turn means continuous nosebleeds. Oh Joy! I am sure at least one full day's rest would have made the world of difference but as I, defeated, removed my pvr'd movies from the playlist and placed my unread mags on the bookshelf I had to admit that I have only myself to blame. Sigh! (Although having Papa Smurf demand that I stay in bed might have done the trick - just a thought for when my tonsils come, C).

As for the procedure itself - all went well or as well as it can go with 10cm+ plugs stuck in your nose and sinus cavity and equally long splints sewn into your nostrils. Thankfully the last sinus plug came out on Thursday and the splints on Monday evening. Those first few breaths of air were AMAZING! I even told Chris it felt like I was breathing in too much oxygen at a time for my lungs to cope with...LOL! (Of course that was over a week ago before I got sick) My post-op nose is still a bit tender and raw but the overall experience was not unpleasant, largely thanks to having a truly compassionate and caring ENT!

Daddy Daycare

So what was all the fuss about. ON Monday Morning, Nicky said goodbye, I wanted to take her but we were not sure how Sam would take the goodbye at the hospital.Soooo, Sam slept till 8am, woke up with a smile and spent 10 mins talking to me, uuugh cooo aaaa etc and then it hit me, the bottle is not going to walk into the room by itself.

I put Sam in his cot and made sure the sides were up, and ran to the Kitchen, had a quick look at the thesis on the fridge door left there during the night by the Sam fairy,distant cousin of the tooth fairy. REALISED that I'm running 45mins late with Sam's Day plan,but hey Sam's not complaining. The list did help, Sam had every bottle and meal on his menu. Sam even managed to give me not on but two dirty nappies, and they were more than just wet, they had stuff in it.

Sam was just great, he ate and drank everything that was given to him (as per the list). He played, watched TV and did not cry once. OK he cried once, but it was not my fault, I told him not to ride his bike on top of the dining room table.......

Then Brampa and Mommy happened, when visiting Mom in hospital, I got all the suggestions, Maybe Brampa must sleep on a mattress in the room, just in case I don't wake up. We settled on Brampa sleeping in Luke's room and Luke slept in front of the TV. Bramps got up every 45 mins to check on us, but we were just great. I made use of my Dad SuperPowers and was aware of almost ever move Sam made. Sam made sure of it, I had a hand/head/feet in/on/bumped/slapped/kicked my face/ribs/arm the whole night. knew exactly what Sam was doing and were he was. So much for Nicky thinking that I will not wake up for him.

Day 2..... repeat most of Day 1. added we went to fetch Nicky from the hospital and to her surprise Sam was fine, still not sure why she was worried.

But on a Sad note... Nicky does look very sore or as they say in my world "vrek eina" , so I will have some more time to spend with SAM, bring it on, I had fun spending so much time with my little guy.

Sound like a plan?

Do you know where we were this time, two years ago? We were struggling the most wicked frustrations as Sam's "real" due date, the 8th July, came and went and we were still sitting in hospital after eight weeks with the last week being ventilator-free and the only thing keeping us there being Sam's inability to drink. I remember losing my cool with the nursing staff almost every single day towards the end, when they would do things which I thought were delaying our progress with trying to get Sam to drink, things like giving him a bath just before I arrived to try and breastfeed which of course meant a super sleepy smurf (funny how now a bath seems to re-energise him instead) or when I arrived one morning to find a temp nurse had moved his NG tube from his nose to his mouth!!! Yip - that's sure going to encourage him to swallow! Poor old Dr A...I phoned him every day with one complaint or another. The following Monday I went into his office to complain that, yet again, the NG tube had been put in his mouth. He said "Do you know what Sam the Man needs? He needs to go home!" (He always called Sam, "Sam the Man"). He asked if I was confident enough to go home with the NG tube...I said OF COURSE (have been asked this sort of question a number of times by now). I am not really sure if he was acting in Sam's best interests or his own, in an attempt to avoid any further whining on my part, but does it really matter? Sam was scheduled for an eye examination on the Tuesday and he said that if all went well we could go home within a day or two after that. That very Wednesday as I walked into NICU the nurses met me with huge smiles and asked if I would like to take Sam home...THAT day! The usual protocol was that the night before taking a preemie home the mom had to do a sleep-in, which I obviously hadn't done. I was too scared to ask about it in case this step had been overlooked and by asking I in turn delayed our leaving by another day. Eventually good sense prevailed but I was overjoyed to hear that Dr A had said he was confident I would cope with Sam and needn't do the sleep-in. I quickly phoned Chris and asked if he could leave work, rushed home to get Sam's never-yet-been-used carseat and rushed back to the hospital...just in case Sam's paed changed his mind. Did a couple of really quick practice rounds in front of the nurses for inserting NG tubes and we were off! It was the 15th July, exactly two months since Sam's birth.

WOW! I remember every minute of that day...what Sam was wearing, what I was wearing (okay, this one isn't too difficult because I only had two outfits I could fit into in my post-pregnancy state)...what a thoroughly glorious day! Our little smurf has accomplished so much in these past two years, he has such an incredible personality, so many gorgeous little smurf-erisms, the most enchanting charm...I love him with all my being. Oh, please don't misunderstand, I love all three of my children so and cherish each and every one of them for their own unique characters and spirits. But, as I am sure all SN parents can relate - seeing such a fragile little being struggle so hard to simply stay alive and then struggle to achieve and master abilities and accomplishments we generally take for granted, twinges that love with just a little extra admiration, a little extra awareness and a whole lotta AWE!

One of the blessings so often taken for granted is communication. Although I would absolutely love for Sam to be able to speak to us "normally", especially at times when he is ill and we are struggling to pinpoint the problem, I have always quite appreciated his ability to largely communicate to us what he wants by using different tones with his Sam-glish, his own hand gestures or, more commonly now, taking our hands and deliberately placing it on something he wants or wants us to manipulate, eg. the tv remote control, a book he wants us to read, etc. The past week or so I have really felt, unhappily so, the blatant absence of proper communication with Sam. You see, as mentioned previously, Sam is going through a particular bad case of separation anxiety. If there is enough distraction, it is occasionally overcome, but mostly not. Also mentioned previously, I am going in on Monday morning for procedures on my sinuses and nose. I have been incredibly stressed about this operation, purely out of worrying about Sam and how he is going to be, particularly because I have to stay overnight. (I asked my ENT if we could postpone the tonsillectomy for another time because I can't possibly manage a five/six day "downtime" and was sort of hoping it would mean that I could then come home on Monday afternoon already...but alas not). I am not sure if Sam has picked up on my being extra anxious the past few days but his separation issues have reached newly aggressive heights...the kind which calls for antics such as leopard-crawling through rooms, behind couches, so that he doesn't see me when Chris has managed to momentarily distract him, or doing amusing monkey-like acrobatics over beds in an effort to sneak past him by trying to silently scale the bed as opposed to having him spot me walking by. As humourous as what it is recalling these episodes now (probably some of those you-had-to-be-there moments), it is heart-breaking not being able to explain to him why I am not going to be there when he wakes up on Monday morning or when he goes to sleep on Monday evening and for the twelve/thirteen hours in between. Because of how hysterical he becomes when, for instance, Chris takes him from me just so I can quickly eat a plate of food or something equally trivial, means that we have had to reconsider Chris bringing Sam to see me at all on Monday.  I know that perhaps this all might seem a fairly silly challenge to some, especially as I am only going to be away for one night...but you need to personally know our Sam to know how upset and inconsoleable he can become.

We've tried to concoct all sort of plans to remedy Monday's overnight stay, ie. Chris brings Sam to the morning visiting hours, Sam screams hysterically when leaving, resulting in huge amounts of v-wording all over the ward, etc. At the afternoon visit : repeat above procedure (perhaps more elaborately) but add that Chris loudly announces when leaving "Sam and I will see you tonight then!". With any luck all the patients and nurses witness to these episodes will plead my case on my behalf by telling Dr N that I DESPERATELY need to go home! Think it'll work? Nah, me neither. The only thing I can hope for now, other than a miraculous healing of my URT by Sunday, is that I am in so much pain after the op that it completely distracts me from worrying about Sam. A bit warped, I know...but desperate times folks...desperate times!

Time for a subject change before I manage to think up something even more absurd en lieu of a cancellation rather. (Oh please - don't let anything GENUINELY happen to cause me to cancel, in case everyone thinks it's something I planned).

On Wednesday Sam had a Prevenar booster shot which will hopefully strengthen his immune system throughout the remainder of Winter (Hugs & Kisses and a great big THANK YOU to Aunty 'Laine). Yesterday we had a follow up with Dr dT - OP for back, hips, knees, etc. Sam's hip x-rays came back beautiful, even though Dr dT gave us a bit of a startle when he started the conversation with :

Dr dT :  So...do you want the GOOD news or the.....

Me & Brampies : Huh?
{Brampies and I look at each other in despair} 
There's a choice? Why's there a choice? What could possibly be wrong? Oh No! What do I ask for first? Good or Bad?

Dr dT :  ...the GOOD news!

Me & Brampies : Okay, what'll it be? Good news or bad news? {Cogs start shifting the gears of our     minds into action....Dr dT's last statement slowly replays in our minds}
Ahaaaaaaaa! The light finally goes on!

Sam's little left foot, however, is still cause for relative concern as a result of the hallux varus (mentioned before I think) and metatarsus adductus. The plan for now is basically to wait until Sam is about five years old, giving the metatarsus adductus time to remedy itself, failing which a procedure will be carried out at the same time the osteotomy is carried out to rectify the hallux varus. Dr dT is pretty hopeful though that the MA will not require surgical intervention and concluded by saying that he is super-pleased with how smurf is doing - his spine looks wonderful, no indications of scoliosis or hyperkhyposis at this point, knees and elbows look great (although Dr dT had to spend a relative amount of time reassuring Brampies that Sam's hyperextending elbows are more frightening for us than what they are for Sam). Dr dT had a look at Sam's little fingers, five of which are unable to straighten/flatten (excluding his two little thumbs, of course). He appeared a little concerned and is going to put a call through to hand-OP to request that our next appointment gets moved up from September.

This morning we were back at Dr B to re-examine Sam's ears. The right ear seems to be progressively on the mend, however his nose is still very inflamed and irritated. We are going to do another seven days with Betnesol, hoping for complete healing, failing which we'll head off to the ENT for a nasal scope. Thankfully, for now though, grommets seem to have been taken off the table. We have Sam's urology appointment coming up the week after next, as well as opthalmology. With regards to the operation to bring his testes down, I was kind of hoping we could couple it with the original plan of just correcting his hallux varus at three years old, but Dr B strongly recommended it gets sorted out ASAP, which is just as well seeing as his little left foot will only be operated on in another three years time now.

OMW - what a long post. I blame it on a busy little smurf, too many doc appointments and shocking energy levels at the end of the day which prevent me from posting shorter, more regular updates. More than likely our next post will have been published by a rather bruised and swollen-faced Mamma!

A sticky situation...

Okey Dokey...so we've gone from croup, to ear infection, to RSV and now, as officially diagnosed this morning, we also have Glue Ear in Sam's right ear thanks to all the muck provided by the one illness after the other. If anyone ever hears me speak/sign/whisper/mime/appear-to-be thinking these words again "I CANNOT WAIT FOR WINTER" I, personally, give the bearer hereof permission to instantly knock me upside the head without any prior warning or notice of intention to do so.

But it's okay, we've only got like another sixty odd days left until Spring.....H.E.L.P!!!

So, moving swiftly along, the new course of action is another few days on oral cortisone with a cortisone nasal drop as well, whereafter we have a follow up next Friday to reassess the ear pressure and, if there is no or little improvement, we are going the grommet route. I cannot say that I am particularly opposed to Sam having grommets after dealing with Meghan's recurring ear infections basically from birth up until a couple of years ago, specifically the pain she went through when her right eardrum ruptured. The only thing that ever brought her relief were the grommets and we even settled on semi-perm grommets the last time which can stay in for up to three years. But, here's hoping by this time next week we'll have a healthy and completely recovered Smurf crawling around.

Sam's struggle to regain his health over the past two months has led him to seek guidance from not one...not two...but three different Bibles - just to be sure, you undersand!

ET phone home....

...from Stilbaai :)

We decided a couple of weeks ago to make another short trip to Stilbaai this passed weekend and I, in turn, decided to stay mum about it because of the uncanny twist of irony that always seems to occur every time I blog about something. I was certain that had I mentioned our intentions, by Friday morning Sam's health would deteriorate and we would not be able to go. Well blog post or no blog post, sure enough on Thursday morning Sam woke up screaming...not crying...screaming and carried on like that for a good half an hour. After a very short morning nap, he woke up screaming again so I thought another ear infection for sure and warned Chris that if we had one more such incident, we'd have to change our plans. But Friday morning he woke up full of smiles and beans so off we headed early Saturday morning. Sam tolerated the four hour drive like an angel, even though he only managed a twenty minute nap the entire trip. He drank his way through two bottles along the road and the half a muffin he ate seemed to keep him content as an alternative to trying to make cereal while driving.

I had checked the weather predictions during the course of the week which, as accurate as always, predicted a 60% chance of rain in Stilbaai so we didn't bother taking Sam's stroller with, thinking it would be too miserable to venture outside. Granted, Saturday was a little miserable with occasional bouts of rain or drizzle but Sunday morning dawned relatively pleasant albeit still quite chilly despite the sunshine. Meghan had been begging to go "fishing" for klipvissies so just before 10:00am we headed down to the beach but with Sam so smothered in fleece tops, hoodies and even a towel for extra warmth, that you could hardly make out the little bundle perched on my lap.

Meghan and Uncle & Cousin Hendrik trying to scare the klipvissie out of it's pool as opposed to actually catching it....

...and it actually worked!

But with the klipvissies trying to avoid the cold water and remaining scarce we took a short walk along the beach...

...gaped in disbelief at the crazy folks trying to surf in the f-f-f-r-r-r-e-eeeezing cold water and then headed home for the awesome brunch Oupa had waiting :)

 

Sam tolerated the drive home again quite well too, with the exception of the last forty or so minutes when he became a little whiny and agitated but nowhere near uncontrollable. In fact, he spent over an hour entertaining himself with the lid of the flask and my barette. He would put the barette into the lid, shake it till it fell out, search for it and then repeat the process over...and over...and over...you get the picture!



Towards the end of last week Sam had begun showing very slight signs of improvement. Even though he was still snoring-choking-apnoeaing his way through every night, it seemed to be easing off just a little but I think we've finally realised the full extent of how weak his immune system is and how important it is to avoid potential triggers regardless of how short or seemingly harmless the exposure is because by this morning he was coughing and vomiting up slime and not only snoring and snorking while asleep or lying down, but even while he's awake and upright.

So it's really quite disheartening that we seem to be going backwards again, with regards to Sam's health. This has been going on now for like five/six weeks and we just don't seem to make any substantial progress. The other problem of course is that with my little procedure coming up on the 11th July (I say "little" with quivering knees and a lump in my throat - a lump not caused by infected tonsils for once) we are leaning more and more heavily towards a postponement. I sometimes wish I could just WILL Sam back to health...don't we all sometimes wish that?

We are still therapy-deprived at the moment. I actually did confirm Sam's PT session for this morning, on Friday, seeing as he seemed to be doing okay but had to phone in at 7:43am this morning...while covered in puke and with a screaming background accompaniant...to cancel. What a totally awesome vision of motherly tranquility and confidence I must have created for our PT :) Although after the number of times Sam's showered our PT and all equipment/accessories within a 2 metre radius with the contents of his tummy, I think they pretty much "get it" by now.

In an attempt to distract you from the rather sorry image I have now created in your minds, I am proud to share that Meghan brought home another great report card achieving 4's for every subject. Why is my tone a little less jubilant that what you'd expect? Because with each evening during the exams ending with Meghan in tears and me sometimes close to it due to utter exasperation at how she could have spent hours upon hours studying but without being able to answer even half of my questions, I asked her to consider how upset she would be if she failed even just one subject or, worse yet, the term and would stress over and over the importance of being properly prepared as the only way to avoid this. Aaahhhmmmm....great theory there, Mom! There's that argument blown out the water! Thank goodness I've a good couple of months to come up with something new...

Welcome Back, Smurf!

We're still doing the congested nose and occasional coughing fits but for the most part of it, Sam The Conqueror is back in full swing, which means untidying whichever room he happens to be in, playing, watching tv and unrelentlessly terrorising poor Biebie (Meg's kitten). Who could have imagined that such a tiny little smidge of person could wreak so much havoc even though still limited to all fours. Drinking and eating is still a little tricky, what with his blocked nose - I've given up on suctioning him for now because it inevitably ends in the v-word.  We have both a Nosefrida and Benny Vac which we use to suction Sam. The Nosefrida is obviously a little more "gentle" but the fact that I am literally sucking Sam's germs into my lungs freaks me out a little. When Sam's mucous levels reach epic proportions, we revert to the Benny Vac, but Brampies is convinced that it is painful for Sam due to all the screaming that always accompanies me using it. So painful that the second you turn the vacuum on Sam starts gagging? Me thinks not. But, just to reassure Brampies I had to do a bit of a weird experiment - yes, you guessed it, I suctioned myself! While it certainly is a really unsettling sensation, I can say firsthand that it is not painful. But with an already low tolerance for unsettling sensations, I decided to limit the Benny Vac-ing as much as possible, so we're relying now on good old Sterimar. If only I could get Sam to blow his nose.

Well, this little smurf motors all over the house on his hands and knees. I think his crawling skills are being super-tuned by his continuously trying to catch both Belle and Biebie...and don't ask me how he manages, but at least thirty/forty times a day he actually does get a hold of them and tries to de-fur them. How he has not ended up with severe teeth or claw marks is beyond me. Belle (being the elder, terribly cantankerous of the two) eventually gets fed up and moves out of reach but Biebie! Poor Biebie! She is so desperate for someone to play with while Meghan is at school that she just keeps coming back for more...and more...and more. Luckily Sam and Biebie hold no grudges against each other and still enjoy playing games together :

Sam manipulating his plastic balls through the bars of the gate for Biebie to chase.

(Never a missed opportunity for therapy, folks.)

Taking a breather :)

(Although Biebie watches Sam's hands carefully so she knows when to make a run for it)

 

I am slightly wary that my little smurf is fact becoming a tv addict. He is doing great balancing on his knees at the moment (although almost refuses to be in a "walking" position anymore) and will

sit like this and watch Brainy Baby for ages.

Completely zoned out!

Another one bites the dust - aaarrrgggghhhh!

I have tried actually sitting with him and working through the colour, number, alphabet, etc games they demonstrate in the dvd, but Sam just won't have it. First of all, if the tv is on you can forget diverting his attention. And when it is off? He continuously points at it and the remote!

A friend asked yesterday how Sam was doing with OT. I said that unfortunately with his being ill we've basically been therapy-deprived over the past few weeks and that although he's definitely feeling a little more confident venturing out and about the house,  he is still refusing to do things like hold his bottle or handle his food, chips, etc. Barely an hour later I was trying to cut a packet of Niknaks off a strip to give to him but at the same time Sam was trying to push close the drawer I was working in. In my haste to free the chips quickly in order to avoid Sam banging his fingers in the drawer, I cut incorrectly and the entire packet of chips went flying all over Sam and the floor. I giggled to myself and thought "Now if Sam was any normal child, he'd be picking the Niknaks up and eating them right off the floor before I could clean them up!"

Sam gingerly picked up a Niknak, studied it for a second....and promptly put it in his mouth!

Believing - We Receive

Life's resources have been a little on the low side lately...physical resources are low because fighting a particularly aggressive bout of sinusitis/tonsilitis makes caring for a really sick little smurf fairly tricky, financial resources are low because dealing with ongoing illnesses which in turn call for ongoing doctors' appointments and medication with a medical aid which funds were exhausted about two months ago is also fairly tricky (especially when looking at Sam's scheduled follow-ups with specialists for the next couple of months, not to mention his intervention therapies) and spiritual resources are low as well as a result of not being able to regularly attend services or even find a gap during the day for some "alone" time for prayers or Bible reading. I've tried leaving it till I go to bed, but this hasn't proven too successful :) The danger in this is that the longer you're without spiritual influence, the more often thoughts of "Well, what's the point anyway?" come sneaking their nasty little way in.

So, on Wednesday, I decided it was time to put a stop to this downward spiral and set myself a goal, to somehow manage at least two prayer sessions during the course of the day and to have read at least one Bible passage. The prayer sessions were a little easier than anticipated and the Bible reading took place at the kitchen counter while simultaneously trying to gulp down a sarmie and make Sam a bottle, while Brampies battled with a particulary clingy Sam for a few minutes. Seeing as I have missed a good few daily readings, I decided to start on 15 June and work my way back (it made sense at the time) and I managed to work through the 14 June as well.

A quick side-step : It is important to note at this point that part of my petitions earlier that morning was a request for Him to at least acknowledge that He hears our prayers and hasn't completely forsaken us.

As I was about to head out of the kitchen, I glimpsed the devotional for 13 June. It said :

"Believing - We Receive

If anyone is thirsty, he should come to Me and drink (Jn 7:37)

Are you thirsty? Then drink. "Now this is the confidence we have before Him: whenever we ask anything according to His will, He hears us. And if we know that He hears whatever we ask, we know that we have what we have asked Him or" (Jn 5:14-15). Here are the principles:

Confidence - "the confidence we have before Him:"
Conversing - "we ask anything"
Condition - "according to His will"
Conviction- "we know that He hears whatever we ask."
Consequence- "we know that we have."

I thought - here's the acknowledgement I was asking for.

A short while later I received a text message from Sammy's great-aunty Anthea. She said that she'd put in a request for us to be considered by two of our local radio stations for their respective "random acts of kindness" programs.

I thought - here's the acknowledgement I was asking for.

A couple of hours later our minister showed up for an impromptu visit to see how Sam was doing and to pray for us.

I knew - He hears us.

Now, there's been no miraculous healing going on overnight, no huge lump sum of money anonymously dumped into our bank accounts...what there has been is a slow but steady improvement of Sam's health over the past two days and the comforting knowledge that, despite the saying that when times are hard friends/family are few, we still have family who care enough about us to put themselves out there in an attempt to ease our burdens.

So, Sam is still coughing terribly and his nose may as well have been glued shut with cement, but he's been wanting to play more as opposed to just lying on my lap for hours on end and he's even been rewarding us with that good ol' smurf charm and laughter. I am not expecting much relief for myself until 11 July, when I will be going under for the ENT procedures mentioned previously but as long as Sam is doing better, it's all good. I know my insistance at trying to treat Sam at home may have seemed incredibly unreasonable...not to mention the inconvenience of the "please help" emails I had to send Sam's paed when it looked like we were losing the battle (Dr B's inconvenience, not mine) but that's why I keep stressing the importance of surrounding ourselves with specialists/doctors who can relate to your circumstances on an emotional level, as well as a professional level. Let me give you a prime example : at Dr B's office on Friday, when about to examine Sam, I asked him if he wanted me to remove Sam's shirt and vest. He said it's best to keep both on because Sam will probably moan. I thought - Nah, it's warm in here and Sam seems pretty calm and settled, let me take the shirt off so that Dr B can examine him more comfortably. What do you think happened? Sam started squirming and whining in protest! The lesson? When your doc knows your child as well (and very occasionally better) than you do, you're in good hands :)

 In the midst of all our chaos, Sam has had a haircut...well - half a haircut at least (the reason why there's only a front view..hee hee).

BEFORE :

and AFTER

Okay, so I was wrong!

So, there's a whole new ailment bugging Smurf...in the form of a little RSV with a touch of pneumonia thrown in for that "Aaawwwhhhh" effect. Firstly, I'd like to say a hearty THANK YOU to our medical aid service provider (for fear of some kind of legal action I will refrain from outrightly revealing their name, but will tell you that there is a channel on DSTV with the same name - now I know our South African readers will follow) who, even though born with lung membrane disease and having a congenital disorder which makes him susceptible to respiratory disease, do not feel that Samuel is a candidate for another course of Synergis,which course consists of five/six injections costing approximately R10,000.00 EACH!!! So affordable for the average family off the street.

Secondly, I would like to thank whoever it is that is responsible for instilling the "Oh Woe Is Me" virus within Luke's system, which virus somehow interpreted me asking him to try and limit his presence in the living areas of the house in order to prevent him contaminating the rest of us with his RSV and bronchopneumonia, as a personal attack on his character and a completey unjustified attempt to punish him for some unknown reason and, thereore, rendered my request as completely invalid. So loving life with a teenager at the moment...thankfully we've only sixteen months left until we're done with this stage. Oh No! Hang on, he's male...better add another five years on to that! LOL! Only kidding - just a bit of tongue-in-cheek there, guys!

All jokes aside, Sammy is one sick little smurf. Dr B advised, with written instruction I might add (gotta love the guy) that should there be no improvement by Saturday afternoon we should rather take Sam through to be admitted. However, even though it appeared at numerous times as though Sam was actually getting worse, we decided to push through at home because with a little man whose sensory defensiveness is so severe that it effects even his gut, the trauma of a hospital stay can sometimes completely obliterate the benefits. I have resigned myself to a decision that, should there be no improvement by this evening, we should take him in to be admitted.

Oh, and have I mentioned the fun we'll be having in a couple of weeks time? Not? Well, here it goes....I am, so far, undergoing a tonsillectomy and a little procedure to re-shape the cartilage in my nose in the hope of trying to overcome what has effectively been an uninterrupted, sixteen-month-old battle with sinusitis and tonsilitis. I underwent a CAT scan this morning to determine whether I have something funky going on in my sinus cavities as well, which remedies will be added to the procedure. My ENT feels that having my tonsils out though is a must as they are making my whole system toxic. I was advised years ago (like about twelve or so, but whose counting) to have them taken out, but after hearing from a friend how extremely painful it was to have it done as an adult decided that a twenty-five year old woman having a tonsillectomy seemed far more inconvenient than a prolonged relationship with antibiotics. Now I am thirty-seven year old woman having a tonsillectomy and thinking what a jack@** I was!

Hi-Ho, Hi-Ho.......it's off to the paed we go!

With a temp too high,
And a mournful cry!
Hi-Ho, Hi-Ho, Hi-Ho,Hi-Ho!

Four doctor's visits in four weeks and one day?
For what appears to be the same ailment?
Gotta be some kinda record, right?

You'll never guess......

...what I had for supper last night, guys!

Cottage Pie!

No, Gerber has not added (unfortunately) a tasty new flavour to their range. And, NO, Mom did not try one of her previous stunts by sticking a normal meal through a blender...YUCK! (Have you ever had liquidised mac and cheese? Not pretty!) This was normal....here, let me say it again...NORMAL...cottage pie! With normal ground beef, normal pieces of carrots and peas and,  yes, even rice. And I loved it! What I loved even more though was that at like thirty second intervals at least one member of the family would come and stare at me eating and exclaim in delight that I was actually eating the cottage pie. Now, I know Mom's not the best cook in town, but really guys...her food's not THAT bad that you need such intense moral support. Mmmm...okay, maybe it wasn't really the cottage pie that was the issue coz I kinda remember the same reaction when sharing Mom's banana (un-pureed of course) with her earlier in the day. I am so loving LOVING food right now!

I am also quite thrilled that I could bring a bit of awesome-ness into the house though because everyone's really worried that, even though I've finished my antibiotics and Celastamine already, I am not only not 100% healthy yet but seem to be getting sick again. But what can a kid do, right? Almost everyone else in the house is still ill so my little antibodies are fighting their socks off trying to get me healthy with all the germs floating around in here. It does, at least, make for interesting snoring competitions at night with Pappa Smurf!

Hugs & Kisses from your friend, Sam
xox

WORDLESS WEDNESDAY!

The lengths we go to, to coax a smile from our Smurf!

(or would that be "the lengths we get grandparents to go to, to coax a smile")

Still trying to catch up!

Sam completed his course of antbiotics and Celastamine last night. We almost didn't make it with the Celastamine after the number of times Sam threw up his medicine on the first day, but thankfully our local pharmacist (who knows us so well by now that as soon as they notice us walking in, they already start going to the shelves to collect Sam's meds) quite happily gave us a "top up" to complete the course.

So, our smurf appears to be feeling a little better but still, something seems to be bugging him. He is extremely clingy and his laughter and smiles come a little more seldom now. It could well be his teeth (Yes! Those molars and eye-teeth are still NOT completely through, almost six months down the line) as he is constantly mining in his mouth. It's really quite frustrating not being able to have him tell us what's wrong, although this isn't always the case. When Sam got really ill, I started putting him in our bed at night so that I could try and keep him propped up on his pillows to allow for some sort of less-laboured breathing and also to monitor his apnoea's. Now that he's been feeling a little better, we have been putting him down in his cot again at night (after walking him to sleep first, of course) but without fail, every night, he wakes up roughly at about 10:00pm. I told Chris I am sure it's because he suddenly realises that he's not in our bed, so promptly put him in with me. I could see Chris was a little sceptical about my theory and so when he woke up last Thursday evening, Chris went instead to pick up and then tried to walk him back to sleep. Little Conqueror Smurf was having none of it though and firmly pointed with his little crooked finger to the bed!!! (Yay Me!) As soon as Chris put Sam in the bed, he rolled onto his tummy and went off back to sleep.

By the way, I don't refer to his little fingers as "crooked" without good reason. Apart from Sam's angulated thumbs, we've noticed that (with the exception of three of his fingers) all of Sam's fingers seem to be slightly "different".  His two index fingers curve outwards (almost as if they also want to angulate) while the others seem unable to lay flat. In other words, if you put his hand on a flat surface you cannot press down on five of the fingers as even the knuckles seem to be "humped". I keep meaning to Facebook our RTS family to ask if any other RTS sweeties have this problem, but you know the story by now about my mind-like-a-sieve problem! Anyway, I have to....HAVE to....remember to ask hand-orthopaed about this at Sam's next appointmet, which is in July....uhhmmmm....or is that December? Hee Hee!

We are still trying to catch up on Sam's weight, which dropped from 10.6kg to 10.1kg with his being ill, but his appetite has definitely improved and he is still doing well with tolerating mixed-textured food. He even ate a bowl of freshly cooked veggies last night.

Sam and Ouma, when they came to visit last week (Ouma and Oupa, that is) 

The SUPER cool gate Uncle Hendrik and Oupa built and installed for us, which creates an awesome little play area for Sam while I can do what I need to do in the kitchen.

And an equally SUPER cool tractor, which Oupa made for Sam.

Note the name on the side!

Oh-so Handsome cousins, Hendrik and Dirk, came to visit yesterday. Sam was a little miz, as mentioned, and wasn't too keen to pose for a pic!

(I don't have a clue what that little circle of light is by Sam's head,

only came up on this one photo - weird)

But we eventually managed something remotely resembling a smile!

Now if only we could get all three boys looking in the same direction :)

Third time lucky!

After Sam's croup diagnosis last Thursday and with a little help from some of the prescribed treatments, Sam's symptoms seemed to ease off a tiny bit...with "tiny" being an understatement. I am not sure about Sam, but I am pretty much experiencing a decent dose of cabin fever having being basically restricted to the house with Sam being so sick, with the exception of the occasional trip to fetch Meg from school (although Brampies has pretty much taken on both Meg's and Luke's to-ing and fro-ing to school/college for now) and our doctors' appointments. Thankfully Meg's hockey tournament was cancelled on Saturday (Did I say "thankfully"? At least it would have meant some contact with the outside world) but we unfortunately also missed out on Rian Smurf's birthday party on Sunday, as well as having to subject Ouma and Oupa to a pretty dismal visit consisting of few outings and a house full of patients.

Yesterday was Chris' birthday and how did we celebrate? With a trip to the paediatrician after yet another difficult night with Sam, which ended with him waking before 5am screaming in pain. The remainder of the day was spent with endless v-word cleanups thanks to Sam seeming completely incapable of keeping any food or liquid in his stomach, including his meds! Aaaarrrgggghhhhh!

The upside (and yes, surprisingly enough, there was one) was the paediatrician's appointment. For more than two weeks now (and two GP visits) I have insisted that there was something more serious going on with Sam, other than a cold and even the croup. But there has been a slightly confusing piece to the puzzle which has managed to throw the other docs off - being that not once during this period did Sam have a fever. Admittedly this is rather strange seeing that Sam's core body temp is fairly high and always, without fail, the first sign of serious infection is that he gets a fever...sometimes as early on as two weeks before the onset of any other symptoms. Only once over the past two weeks has his temp even managed to reach over 37ºc (with his "norm" being about 37.2ºc) and that was yesterday morning, otherwise it's been hovering between 35.5ºc and 36.6ºc, believe it or not.

Now, I am pretty sure that Sam has in fact been suffering with some cabin fever himself, because he LOVED having to hang around in the waiting room at Dr S's office and was as bubbly and joyful as always...pretty remarkable when we found out what's been bugging him. When looking into Sam's ears Dr S started saying things like "Ouch" and "Shame" which we figured either meant Dr S's little light examining-thingy was causing him some sort of pain...or he was reacting in sympathy to what he saw. It turned out to be the latter. He said on a scale of 1-10 with 10 being a burst eardrum, Sam's left ear was an 8 and Sam's right ear a 9.5!!! A-ha! F.I.N.A.L.L.Y! By yesterday morning I was really starting to feel quite despondent and hopelessly frustrated because I could see that there was something serious ailing Sam but after two pretty "wasted" doc appointments, wondered if maybe I was really becoming as unnecessarily pedantic as what, I am certain, some people have started believing I am.

Unfortunatley, the high of finally knowing what was wrong wore of soon enough after two failed attempts of trying to get the antibiotic (non-penicillen for now, until we've confirmed Sam's allergy) and celestamine to stay in Sam's tummy, not to mention anything remotely similar to food or liquid. No matter how little we administered at a time, regardless of any amount of dancing and singing to try and distract him from the urge to throw up....everything came spewing out anyway. Eventually though just after 7pm we managed to get half a dose of both the antibiotic and celestamine in, which might have been due to an effectively administered pain suppository by Pappa Smurf which had Sam back to his babbly, joyful self. Sam even managed to take in a little Cera-lyte before bed and for the first time in more than two weeks had the closest thing vaguely resembling a decent night's sleep.

Some random pics taken sometime over the last couple of weeks.....

Sam is never as happy and content as when there is some sort of chocolate treat melting in his mouth! Of course, with his being ill we've had to avoid the chocolate for now but I can almost hear him giggling in delight when next he is allowed to indulge!

Aunty Diane and her Sunday school class made this crown for Sam a couple of weeks ago! It just so happened to perfectly match his little top!

About a year ago, at the very least, we found a dvd at a local factory toy shop called Brainy Baby. Now, from an adult's perspective, the dvd is pretty amateurish (hope I can't get into trouble by saying that) but, with all of the little games/songs/counting, etc being carried out by children (mostly between the ages of 1 and 4) Samuel adores....as in A.D.O.R.E.S the dvd and watches it at least three or four times EVERY day! Sometimes non-stop! He waves when the children wave (the pic above), smiles when they smile, does a little squirmey-jiggy type thing when the dizzy bird puppets dance and grabs my hand to either sign the alphabet next to the screen when it comes on or quickly display his foam set of numbers next to the screen when the counting comes on!

 

Relaxing on Pappa Smurf while watching!

Completely and totally mesmerised!

The best R29.00 we ever spent!!!!

The V-Word Slump

Over the past couple of weeks I cannot tell you how many times I have mentioned my surprise that Sam has been so healthy for so long (TSC surgery not included under "unhealthy"), especially as everyone in our house has done a fair round with flu/bronchitis, etc. I even literally touched wood a couple of times when saying it...because my experiences tell me this works? As posted recently, I had Sam at the doc last Thursday because, after all his difficulty breathing, etc at night, I was pretty convinced there HAD to be something brewing somewhere, be it nose, ears, throat, lungs! I was wrong...well, at that point in time at least. Sam's mucous build-up progressively worsened, albeit remaining clear, and without a fever. By yesterday, after several sleepless nights, he also developed an ominous croup-sounding cough but still no fever. Now, what could be more trying than taking care of a sick and miserable little smurf? Taking care of him while YOU are also sick and miserable!! There has been very little actual sleeping taking place in our home at night, both Meg and, especially, Luke cough through a large part of the night and in our bedroom Chris' sleep is alternately disrupted by first Sam's coughing-cum-choking episodes and then my own coughing and spluttering. Add a whole lot of assignments and tests in prep for next week's exams to that and you've got yourself a surefire recipe for AAAAaaaaaarrrrrrrggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhh! [Rolls eyes and lashes tongue out in fake suffocating-motion for emphasis]
 
I have this really annoying tendency to rush Sam off to the doc the split second I notice something which might be a potential illness and always with the same result - that there is little they can do besides some occasional symptomatic relief, unless it becomes a full-blown infection, in which case they will only then prescribe an antibiotic. I really do know and believe this is always the right course of action, yet cannot seem to break this premature behaviour even though I know there is little the docs can do and even find myself starting off the consultations by confessing that I have perhaps rushed in a little too soon. The result? Inevitably we will land up back at the doctor a few days later with a full-blown pneumonia or viral infection which can then finally be treated. So, after yet another "wasted" appt last Thursday I was not sure when Sam's symptoms changed yesterday, whether I should make another appointment or wait it out until there was a devastating fever or at least some green mucous to work with. The thing is Sam's fevers tend to come flying in suddenly at ridiculous temperatures instead of building up slowly and usually results in a hospital stay and with Meg having a hockey tournament on Saturday morning, Sam's Ouma and Oupa coming to visit and Chris' birthday on Tuesday I thought, perhaps....just perhaps.....this time we can catch whatever-it-is before we're already on our way to the hospital's emergency unit in the middle of the night.

Well, would you believe that we got it right this time? (Well, for now at least) I gingerly made another doctor's appointment this morning where we discovered that the whatever-it-is happens to be another bout of croup, but still in the fairly early stages which is why there is no fever yet. With the help of an antibiotic nasal ointment to clear the irritation there, an eye drop for Sam's slightly gooey eyes and, most importantly, some cortisone to neb Sam with we should, with loads of luck, be able to avoid the hospital this time. Or so you'd think, right? Another touch-that-wood bit of thankfulness was Sam's scarce v-wording. Note I say "was". What with the coughing and Victoria-Falls-like post nasal drip happening at the back of Sam's throat the gag reflex and, hence, v-wording are back with a vengeance, savouring its most dramatic appearances for when I have to try and neb him so, so far today I have been vomitted on three times (I can say the word "vomit" now because I know I can't jinx something that is still happening) with one particularly pleasant throw-up taking place in the car again, while waiting for Meg outside school. Almost as delightful as the throw-up that took place about five minutes after taking Sam out of the bath to clean him from the first throw-up.

You know, we have been through a lot with Sam...the surgeries, pneumonia's, kidney and bladder infection, seizures, developmental delays...yet nothing destroys my spirit like the vomitting. I can't explain it, it's like I see it as a personal attack on me...my ultimate enemy! Of course, as I type this I realise how silly that sounds but I guarantee you when it happens again tomorrow and I sit there, not only covered in vomit but also in frustration at the nutrition and medication painfully administered but which Sam would have just expelled from his tummy, in resignation at losing another battle to the vomtting and, the real issue at hand I dare suggest, the fear that I cannot do this and  that I am failing Sam, then it doesn't feel so silly anymore...just really sad.

On a high-note, particularly high in actual fact, Chris underwent a rigorous appointment with the cardiologist on Monday and although Chris' cholesterol levels are dangerously high at the moment (but not nearly as high as what the cost of appointment did to Chris' blood pressure) there seems no need for any major medical intervention at this point, provided Chris is prepared to make a drastic change to the amount of exercise he gets at the moment (so easy to say for someone not living with our feisty and endlessly demanding little smurf) and, more importantly, Chris' diet. Poor Chris! We are not particularly healthy-eaters in our home and love decadent treats but still, for Chris' sake, are all going to make a conscious effort to adapt our diets in order to make it easier (well, most of us that is - thanks for the jam donuts, apple crumble & cream and potato crisps so far this week Brampies). The scary thing is that, when I really sit and consider it, my diet is shocking. Mostly during the day I tend to grab whatever is quick and easy to shove into my mouth, usually consisting of cereal bars, rusks, biscuits, etc and I've never bothered to even have my cholesterol checked purely because of classic stereotype misconception that it's usually the more mature males that are afflicted by dangerous cholesterol. I'm surprised I haven't been slapped in the face with a heart-attack yet? Oh no! Quick.....TOUCH WOOD!

Aaaannnndddd....a few steps forward again :)

Remember me whinging roughly about fourteen months ago about our pc crashing and losing not only most of the pics we’d taken over the last four years, but also all my emails and email addy’s due to a teeny weeny oversight on my hubby’s part? Well, if you don’t remember, I certainly do. So you can imagine my horror when, on Tuesday morning, I put on the fourteen-month-old pc we’d subsequently purchased only to see it get caught up in the same restart loop the previous one went through when it crashed! Oh my fragile heart! Meghan and I mourned the loss of our respective Sim-families we were sure we’d lose through the pc’s breakdown. On Wednesday was a national voting day here in SA, so after going and making our mark (or marks to be exact) we quickly drove by the computer place and, luckily, it turns out it was just the pc’s power supply which died. I say luckily, but it cost a pretty penny to have the power supply replaced and I am so hoping that this one manages to exist longer than fourteen months.


On the subject of voting, our little Conqueror Smurf has started becoming extremely strong-willed and often tests our boundaries with regards to who’s actually in control…and of course it’s him. At the voting station on Wed, he refused to offer up my ID document for scanning in order for me to vote, so we had to perform acrobatics to have the lady scan my ID without Sam letting go. At the shops a couple of days ago I bought him a packet of marshmallows to entertain himself with while I quickly gathered my purchases together and again he refused to release the packet of sweets for the cashier to ring up and when I eventually wrestled them out of his hand, he started screaming blue murder. He is extremely adamant about what he wants and, non-verbal or not, makes his feelings inexplicably known. We take the bad along with some good though because, even though it makes handling him in public places, in particular, pretty challenging, the fact that he so clearly expresses what he wants using only hand-gestures and singing/grunting/Sam-glish with the occasional tantrum thrown in when additional emphasis is required, is fairly encouraging…in a stressful, zany kinda way.

Other than his unique way of communicating, Sam seems to be daily acquiring new skills again, in addition to having regained his sitting ability. He is still displaying quite severe bouts of startling when I first put him down on the floor to, for instance, play…but the attraction of whatever toy is lying nearby soon overpowers his feeling threatened and we’ve had no additional bumps on the head since my last post about this. He loves…as in ADORES…books and every mealtime, at the least, is an opportunity to go through a few books and look at pictures, point items out, clearly say words, etc. Of course, these books all involve animals mostly, or children at the very least…two things which he eagerly interacts with. So for a few days I concentrated on one particular thing, ie. Pointing out the dogs’ eye in his Dog Peek-a-boo book, and every day I would try and ask him to show mommy the dog’s eyes and by last week he was able to point out the dogs’ eyes. So we remained on that newly learnt skill for a few days and then I asked him if he could point out Mommy’s eyes…which to our delight he did…and then had him point out Barney’s eyes, Daddy’s eyes, etc so that he definitely understand the concept of “eyes” now and also understands that they are something not only unique to dogs  We are now concentrating on “nose” and for the first time this morning he clearly pointed out my nose. He recognizes several items in his Baby’s First Word Book and when you ask him to, can point them out, for eg. Baby, dog, cat, cow. Sometimes he has such an amazing awareness of what is going on around him that it temporarily stuns me because firstly, he sometimes seems more “present” than what Luke and Meg were at his age and secondly, because it is just so unexpected. He has such an incredible understanding of what he is doing like when he is going to do something “naughty” like throw whatever’s lying on the bed onto the floor, he’ll choose an item, look straight into your eyes, shake his head, throw the item and then look at you and laugh that mischievous, shoulder-hugging giggle. Chris and I were sitting with him on the bed this evening, after a multi-handed struggle to dress him after his bath, which bath also ended in wailing protest, while he amused himself with throwing all of our things “overboard” and, with loving tears in our eyes said that, we could not imagine our lives without him. Even though there are so many rough and challenging moments, his remarkable little personality just kinda makes it all worthwhile. Even after that, while I tried unsuccessfully to walk him to sleep for half an hour while he physically fought me to avoid his dreaded slumber, he eventually caved in and moments before falling asleep blessed me with some “ooohhhiinggg” and “aaahhhiiingggg” and a little giggle and then promptly fell fast asleep. Well, at least I think it was aimed at me because by that time his 10.6kg body is dangling at an unimaginable angle from my arms, at great detriment to my poor back, while he strains to keep sight of the ceiling fan…so his pre-slumber serenade could well have been meant for the fan. Nope, we’re being positive right now, so conclude that it was meant for me.

On the health-front, as mentioned previously, we’ve all been battling to fight off the flu or whatever other respiratory ailment has been trying to infiltrate our systems. At this present moment, both Luke, Chris’s and Meghan’s systems have caved, particularly Meghan’s, who has spent the last two nights coughing her way through the most of it. I was convinced that Samuel was well on his way down this path as for the past couple of weeks his OSA is back in full force and effect and he seems quite severely congested at night. Chris, for far more serious reasons, had a doctor’s appointment this morning so I took Sam with and asked him to check Sam out, convinced that he was going to confirm some tonsillitis or a viral infection at the very least, but surprisingly he reported that all Sam’s usually compromised areas (lungs, throat, nose, etc) all look good. So the only conclusion we could come up with is the same reason for the last particularly severe bout of OSA, being the reflux, with the now thinner consistency milk causing excess mucous as he refluxes during the night. Sam’s reflux is still pretty severe and at least twice a day you will hear him refluxing – it makes quite a distinct, inwardly-hiccupping kinda sound…just thankfully without the v-wording for now. He also has actual hiccups countless times during the day so it appears that, although many of Sam’s RTS brothers and sisters outgrow their reflux by the age of one or two, Sam is not going to follow this trend. He has been extremely adventurous lately though with trying out differently textured foods and has, over the past couple of days, eaten some pork sausage (not pureed, obviously), toast, digestive biscuit, skinned orange, French fry/chip and some Milo cereal (although I left this soaking in the milk for quite some time to make the cereal pretty soggy).

The main reason why Sam piggy-backed on Chris’s appointment at the doctor"s was that Chris has been experiencing some pretty distressing chest pains over the past few weeks, which pains worsened to a pretty scary level yesterday afternoon when, while taking Sam for a walk, he and Meg decided to have an impromptu race. The doc had Chris do some cycling for him so that he could monitor his heart rate, etc and after noticing an unusual pattern has referred Chris to a cardiologist with whom we could only get an appointment on Monday. So we wait anxiously for Monday’s appointment and pray that whatever is causing the problem, is not too serious (although are any heart problems “not too serious”?)

Happy 2nd Birthday Sam and way....WAY....too many pics!

And when I say "way too many", I mean like in W.A.Y. too many. And I've only posted about a fraction of them.


So our little Conqueror Smurf is officially (as at 5:24pm today) Two Years old and One Day. We toyed with the idea of throwing him a proper party but thought it best to leave that until a time when he can really grasp the whole "it's my birthday" concept. So instead, celebrated with a little get-together with our extended family, which was just as lovely. And without any further ado....the pics.

 Ooohhhh...look, Mom! An envelope!

 Ooohhh...look Mom, a card!

 Okay, now as much as I love birthday cards, the rest of these goodies are starting to look so much more interesting. Here Mom, you hold this while I dig in!

 Yay, a xylophone from Aunty Cammy & Uncle Damian. Two of my favourite things wrapped up in one...banging and music, although these stick things look far more complicated than my plastic boats/cups.

Seriously Uncle D? This is what I gotta use to hit it with?

 Mmmm...okay, lets try one stick-thing and one toy guitar.

 I say phooey to the stick-thing, lets go with the guitar.

 Oh my goodness folks, I cannot tell you how many of these pics us kids had to pose for.

There were more flashes than at a fashion shoot. Well, it all started out kinda fun.....

 But could ya blame a guy for getting a little distracted?

 Chrisna, Meg and Meg!

 Our two Meg's!

 The "naughty corner"

It took longer to get this bunch to sit still than the kids!

 At long last, the moment I was waiting for!

No, not the blowing out of the candles...yes, all two of them.

Quick guys, help me get rid of this flame...

...so that Brampies/Oom Oupa can cut the cake....

...so that I can eat it!!!! Yay, delish!

This would've been a great family pic save for the teenager who was making like a bat

(and hiding in his cave)

Now you KNOW you've thrown an epic party when it's been attended by none other than Frikkie Bellville!

And what's even better than a xylophone?

Why, a floating xylophone of course!

Once Luke felt safe from the uncool, photo-taking adults he ventured out into the light for a little guitar instruction from the Birthday Boy!

(Boy, aren't teenagers loads of fun?)

And some random pics we took of our little smurf recently!

Happy Birthday Samuel!

You are such an amazing inspiration to us,

Through each illness, surgery, challenge and trial,

your spirit remains strong and passionate.

We cannot imagine a world without your giggling and uncontrollable laughter,

Without your sweet voice,

Without your love,

Without your wisdom,

Without your joy,

Without your many Sam-erisms,

Without the lessons you teach us daily,

We cannot imagine a world without YOU!