Two appointments, one day.  I know, you mothers with multiple children are rolling your eyes at me.  But that’s a big deal around here. 

This morning Samuel went to his very first dentist’s appointment.  It’s been on the to-do list since he turned one, and then got officially moved to the to-do-before-baby-comes list.  Sam has a sixth sense about doctors or something, because as soon as I said the word dentist (super excited, in the same sentence as submarine boat and whales on the walls) he just flat out said, “No.”  Tough luck, kiddo.  Sam did have fun playing on the Game Cube with the big kids, climbing in the submarine, playing on the huge train table, but he also knew enough to grab onto my leg in desperation and whine, “Ok mommy, time go home” when the nice lady in scrubs came out and called his name.  Samuel did cry and whine when I had to lie him down, but he didn’t fight it.  The flat screen mounted on the ceiling playing Nemo helped.  I was very proud of him.  He chose his own toothbrush and handed it to the nice lady who brushed his teeth, and he helped the dentist count Monkey’s teeth before counting his own.  Samuel checked out in excellent condition, which as a mommy, gave me a small amount of satisfaction.  When we were all done,  Sam clapped “Yea, I did it!” and received a token for the toy machine on his way out.  You would not believe how excited this little boy was to go home with “Oh!!  A new bouncy ball!!”  {These are my unsuccessful attempts to get a picture of Samuel showing it to me.}

Second appointment was this afternoon for Big Mama.  It was late enough in the day that my darling Erik let me drop off Samuel at his work and the two went to the park so I could go alone.  Once again, all stats and measurements were perfect.  At this point, I could even say I have 3 1/2 weeks left.  But if I did that, I would be tempting an anxiety attack.  Seriously, what am I going to do with two kids?  Aaaaack.  {Yep, totally my fake smile.}

But who the heck is counting . . . just MEEEE!  Another doctor’s visit today.  Sam was actually almost excited to “See da baby” and he didn’t freak out at all when the OB came in.  So Doc looked over my chart and said, “Now I’m going to tell you something you husband already knows very well, but you are perfect.”  {Ha, I don’t think my husband does know that, and I also think Doc was sensing my long time grudge against him ever since he told me to stop eating candy bars and drinking soda when I was preggs with Sam, and then made Erik choose between the singing of God Bless America or Come Come Ye Saints when Sam was born . . . so he made up a few points in my book by saying that, but my word, ANYWAY!}  

So, according to Doc, I’m perfect.  Everything is right on track.  I know how blessed I am to have such easy and good pregnancies . . . all 2 of them, but still.  Doc also assured me that most times labor for number 2 is much easier, and commented that you don’t get much better than my 6 hour labor the first time around anyway.  Another fun part was when he was telling me where the baby was and how he was positioned, and I KNEW that already.  Maybe that sounds dumb, but I’ve always wondered how women could be like “Oh, that’s his little this, and here’s his that.”  But just today I was sitting and feeling Little Brother move around and I totally knew, so it was fun to hear the doctor confirm exactly when I’d thought a few hours earlier.  So I left the appointment feeling great, and almost excited and feeling like maybe I’m going to survive this afterall.

Oh, but you want to hear the BEST part . . . HA!  I surely did reach the big TWO.OH.OH. today.  That’s right.  I just barely missed it with Sam, but here I am 5 more weeks to go and already topping 200 whoppers.  Can you tell?!

Things in this picture to note: 1) I have maybe 2 shirts that still fit, and clearly this is not one of them.  2) No one’s going to convince me I don’t have preggo face now!  3) As positive as I try to be, my pregnancy enthusiasm is waning.  Compare this half-hearted smile to the beaming grin 9 weeks ago.  And 4) I’m actually not trying to do the precious little caressing-my-baby-belly pose.  I am, in fact, just attempting to separate my boobs from my stomach.

Samuel and I had a follow-up visit with the ENT today.  Everything checked out fantastic.  We are so glad we went ahead with the surgery; it has been nothing but successful.  Sam still wanted nothing to do with the doctor.  He couldn’t decide whether to be fascinated or mad that we got the see on TV the pictures the ENT was taking on his special camera of Sam’s shoes, his monkey, and his finger, before going into his ears.  It was actually pretty cool to see the ends of the tubes coming out of Samuel’s eardrums.  We were done in 5 minutes tops, and Samuel all of a sudden loved the doctor and skipped down the hall after him at the suggestion of a balloon.

We will be back in 6 months for another check-up.  I had a really strange moment as I made that appointment.  I’ll be coming with {TWO}  boys next time.  Crazy.

Two thirds is almost promising . . . that’s how far along I am with this forever long pregnancy.  Well, today it’s forever long, other days I can’t believe how fast it’s going by.  2/3, 66%, 28 weeks.  The end just may be in sight.

Another regular and normal check up today.  Erik was kind enough to watch Sam here at home so I could go by myself without the 2 year old in tow.  I wasn’t about to take him to a doctor’s office again, even if it was just for me.  Plus I had to get blood drawn for my glucose test, and knew that would freak him out.  (He can’t even stand it when they take my blood pressure, whether the nurse has already given him smarties or not.)  So, HA, I thought last check up was a substantial weight gain.  Moreso this time.  Doc even mentioned it, but said it wasn’t worth worrying about yet. . . and niether was the fact that I’m measuring 31 weeks instead of 28!!!  He assured me that baby wouldn’t be more than 12 to 15 pounds.  Good good!

And here I am again, pretty as can be.  {See, Julie, I totally have preggo face!}  Just for fun, let’s compare this picture of me at 28 weeks to me 30 weeks pregnant with Sam.  I hate to think that Samuel’s little brother is going to beat him up, but if things continue on this track, that just might happen.

Two funny Sam and baby stories.  One night after bath and before bed, Sam and I were snuggling on the sofa.  I was so hot and uncomfortable, and without really thinking about it, was showing off the big belly.  Sam noticed and thought it a little strange.  “Mommy’s tummy??”  So I said, “Yeah, and remember who’s in mommy’s tummy?”  “Yes, baby.”  Little brother happened to be moving around big time, so I continued by asking, “Do you want to feel the baby move in my tummy?”  Without hesistation Sam snapped, “No!  Fix shirt!”  And he pulled my shirt right back over my stomach.

Another day Samuel and I were rough housing and wrestling.  He came straight at me full sprint and head butted me in the stomach.  I of course flinched big time, and reminded Sam he needed to be so careful with Mommy’s tummy because that’s where Little Brother is.  Sam must be sick of hearing that and isn’t quite as easily convinced as he used to be because his response was to yank my shirt and look straight down.  After a careful study he looked me square in the eyes,  “No, Mommy.  Baby not in here!”

Not that I expected anything else . . . Samuel is an amazing trooper, and everything went wonderfully and exactly as it should. 

I woke Sam up at 6 this morning, he was alert right away, and was smiling and singing on the way to the hospital.  Once there, though, it didn’t take him long to start in on the usual chorus of “Back car, go home.”  And not one bit of surprise, the waiting was the hardest part.  Sam had way too long to realize he was in a place that involved him and doctors, and he didn’t like it one bit.  I’ve had my share of dealing with this, but I think it was a bit newer to Erik.  Sam and I tried to go for a walk while we waited to get called back to the nurses station, and he did calm down a bit . . . just in time for us to get the call to head on back. 

At this point, Sam started wigging out pretty dang good!  The nurses couldn’t get his baseline because he wouldn’t calm down and sit still.  They tried his arm, his foot, and his fingers.  Little Stink finally held still enough with 3 of us trying to soothe him and something distracting on the TV.  We managed to catch the last 3 minutes of a Curious George episode, which may have been a bad thing.  All it did was add one more thing to Sam’s crying chant, “Back car, go home, watch George.”  {The hospital pjs?  Too cute!  Hehe.}

The surgical nurses and anethesiologist came back for a quick chat, and it didn’t take them long to decide Samuel needed a sedative before they took him to surgery.  I am actually really glad we did that, it made things much much easier, and even a  bit comical.  I was holding Sam, so I wasn’t really looking at his face, but after a few minutes Erik said, “Oh yeah, he’s doped up now.”  Samuel was so loopy it was pretty dang funny.  He couldn’t really hold himself up, he was playing with his hands, slurring his words, and randomly giggling.  I didn’t get the best of it on video, and had to cut it short when the nurses came back in, but you’ll get the idea!

So next was the hard part, the part I was dreading most.  Time to say goodbye.  One of the nurses picked him up, and Samuel whimpered and whined but that was about all he had in him.  It couldn’t have been 7 minutes later when our surgeon came back in and said he was done.  The first thing he told us was, “I am glad we did that.  He really needed it.”  There was still tons of fluid in both of Samuel’s ears, and he had been suffering at least 25 decibels of hearing loss for who knows how long.  We had to wait a bit longer to get our little Samarama back, but soon enough we heard his cough and a familiar voice down the hall calling, “Daddy.  Daaaaaddy.” 

Samuel was still pretty loopy {cranky loopy this time, not funny loopy} but we were all glad to be back together.  We knew Sam was back to normal when he started crying for his own clothes, his shoes back on, and, you guessed it, ”Back car, go home, watch George.”  The nurse was just about to let us go when . . . BARF!  Up came all of the juice Sam drank since waking up.  Ugh.  More waiting.  More very unhappy Sam.  A lady across the hall with her son came over and handed Sam a Matchbox car, which we thought was so sweet.  Finally finally, we got the go ahead to leave.  We were done!  Finished!  Out of there!  Well, almost.  Walking past the cafeteria on the way out, Sam quickly remembered what he had spied on the way in . . . a doughnut!  Like we could say no!!

So we got home right around 9:30.   Sam ran over to his spot in the window behind the sofa, and began playing with his new car.  The morning was a super success, and I would certainly say at this point, Sam is 100%. 

Phew.  So what’s next?!  Ha. 

It’s 10:00 pm.  Erik is still at work.  Samuel is still awake in his bed.  I still have dishes to do. 

We report to the hospital at 6:30 am for a 7:30 surgery.  Erik thinks it’s ridiculous we have to be there an hour early for a 15 minute surgery.  I’m think it’s good I won’t have all day to worry.  I am dreading walking away from Samuel, and picturing the nurses holding him down while he screams for Mommy and Daddy.

Myringotomy for tubes is the simplest most commonly performed surgery on children, both our pediatrician and ENT highly recommend it for Samule, the “recovery” is pretty much non-existent unless Sam gets a bit sick from the laughing gas, the results are immediate, and of course Erik and I would never make a decision like this without prayer.  I feel really confident that everything will go well and that this is what will be best for the Samster.

My two year old is having surgery.  Scheduled March 19.  Just one more exciting adventure!

Lots of people will argue there is no such thing as normal.  If there is, then Sam’s “normal” is that he is always finding something to throw our way and keep us on our toes.  Since Sam’s last cold, about a month ago, he’s had a cough and congestion that has not gone away.  He has also had the craziest sleep “schedule,” waking up at least twice a night and erratic naps.  But most of all, he’s just been off.  I finally got Sam into the doctor today.  Guess what?!  Oh yes, EAR INFECTIONS!!!  So here we go again . . .

I hate how familiar Samuel is with the whole doctor routine.  But I love what an amazing trooper he is.  Sam was more than happy chilling in the waiting room watching the fish and getting sidetracked by Toy Story on the tv.  At one point he did grab my bag and try to walk out, “Back car.”  When I told him we still had to see the doctor, he headed the other way towards the patient rooms and motioned me with his arm, ”Ok, let’s go see doctor!”

Of course there were some tears, but all reasonable and not one bit of fighting what was going on.  After a long wait (that is seriously the worst part!) the doctor finally came in and found fluid in one ear and a full infection in the other.  Skip the amoxicillin {allergic}, skip the $100 omnicef {doesn’t take}, time for Rocefin {yep, the shot.}  I whispered to Sam that he was going to have to get a poke in his leg afterall and my heart just about broke as Sam whispered back, “Poke?!”  His little lip slowly stuck out, his eyes welled up with tears, he quietly started whimpering, and he buried his head in my chest.  “No poke, Mommy.  Back car, get Daddy, go home.”

After that, I would do anything for my little boy . . . including snatching an extra sticker on our way out, picking up Daddy, getting lunch on the way home, and snuggling in bed watching George until Sam was ready for his nap.

Next step is a re-check on Thursday, and a follow-up with the ENT.  Tubes are once again looming in our future.  We will see what happens!

*note* i wrote this the week after the ultrasound.  had some problems scanning pics.  more posts to come, including our fun fun trip to california.

I have not taken a single picture in FOR-EV-ER!  I don’t know what my deal is.  I try, and Samuel just does not cooperate.  Whatever I wanted to capture is gone the moment Sam spies the camera.  So, forget Sam.  Here are so pictures of his little brother instead.  Isn’t he so cute?!

Samuel, surprise, does NOT love the doctor.  So, despite all my prepping that we were going to Mommy’s doctor, Sam still had a bit of a freak out when we went in for my ultrasound.  He did not enjoy watching me lie down, and he definitely didn’t like it when the lights turned off.  After a few minutes, he did calm down and watched the blinking lights in the utility closet.  He could have cared less about the baby on tv.  When all was done, though, Samuel knew enough to be proud of me.  As the lights turned on and I sat back up, Sam clapped and exclaimed, “Woohoo.  Good job, Mommy.”

Now Samuel likes to look at these pictures and say, “Oooh, dats baby!”  Or, a bit more alarming, sometimes he’ll say, “Uh oh, baby hurts.”  I don’t have a clue why he says that, but thankfully we know how accurate Samuel is with any “predictions” and since doctor says everything is wonderfully perfect, that’s who I’ll  believe.

In 6 weeks we had 7 visits to the pediatrician, 3 different antibiotics, 1 allergic reaction, 4 shots, 2 very infected ears, and 1 trip to a specialist.

Boy, Samuel had me going.  I guess he just wants to make sure I’m on my toes.  Today at the ENT, Sam and I got to watch on a monitor as the doctor put the camera otoscope into his ears.  Perfect.  Crystal clear.  Not one drop of fluid.  WHAT?!  That fourth shot of Rocefin finally did the trick.  And you know what else?  The ENT did not want to put tubes in Sam’s ears!  He said for now we would watch and see what the rest of the winter brings.

Ha, with Sam, I’m sure it’ll be something!  But we’re up for it.  Bring it on Utah winter.  Next year we will be in California.  You can’t get an ear infection in the Promised Land.