A Bump in the Road

Today was a big day at the Harper house. The administrators at Spencer's day care decided that they weren't comfortable caring for him any longer.

We're disappointed, a little angry and a little anxious. The frustrating part is that they just aren't willing to be part of our team during the recent short term setbacks we've been experiencing. Namely, challenges with table food due to a narrowing of his esophagus at the original surgical site. It's been two weeks. 10 day care days. Evidently it spooked them enough to turn their backs on us, most likely because his morning caregiver escalating the situation.

But it's done. And hopefully there is a silver lining to the situation, one that results in an even better situation for our sweet, happy and thriving little man.

This was the first time we've had to truly defend Spencer -- justifiably so -- when someone else was trying to single him out and not include him. It won't be the last time, for sure, but it was a big step.

So, a message to anyone who tries to unjustifiably make our son feel "different" in the future. Go ahead- I dare you. But you answering to not only emotional, protective Mama but also logical, fiercely dedicated Dada.

Oh yea, beware. These Harpers are tough as nails.

Parental Instincts

It's amazing how fiercely protective, loyal and devoted parenthood makes you feel.

I'd do just about anything for Spencer to ensure his well-being. Brandon would too. It's such a surprisingly intense feeling that boils over at critical times. It reminds me of a bear, protecting a den of cubs. Hopefully I keep my claws to myself ... unless absolutely necessary, right? But who wouldn't do whatever it takes for this kid? Such a beacon on sunshine.

A Great Night

Tonight was such a great night, despite having to go to the grocery with a hungry toddler ... at least we now have groceries! Whoo hoo!

Spencer really seemed into eating tonight, perhaps because he didn't have dinner until 7 p.m. He even ate some green beans and kept most of them down, so I was beaming with joy given our recent feeding trouble. Baby steps!

After dinner, Spencer danced all over the house, fed the dog her treats says "daaaw" over and over again, got in some quality wrestling time with dad (and dad got a few scrapes of his face from the cast), play time running up and down our sidewalks, bubble time, flower sniffing time ... phew ... I'm worn out just recounting it all.

So, right now I'm pretty high on life. Spencer is sleeping soundly and Mama and Dada need to eat dinner.

Happy almost weekend!

My Second Home

Sometimes, when end up walking the halls of Cincinnati Children's Hospital Medical Center it feels like home. Today was one of those days.

We had an early post-op follow up with orthopaedics and Spencer was raring to go, running up and down the cooridors smiling and laughing at everyone he saw. As I chased him around, I watched the various employees walk by I realized -once again - that I recognized many of them. Some, we had had direct interaction with, others I've just passed many times in the hallways. It was disturbing and comforting all at once.

Then I saw Karla Hicks walking toward me, her eyes on Spencer with a look of questioning familiarity. I called out "you treated him" and she got this look of recognition in her face and said, "is that Spencer?"

Karla - or Dr. Hicks - was the resident who called us every morning from the RCNIC to give us a report on Spencer during those hard 19 days he spent in the hospital recovering after his initial surgeries. She became a comfort to us, a steady source of information and understanding in the dark and blurry whir that was the first month of our life with Spencer. I am forever grateful to her and the RCNIC staff. Karla, the nurses, the general surgery fellow (whose face I will never forget but whose name was never fully clear to me) ... they pulled us through.

So, as I walk through Cincinnati Children's, it feels like home. I am comforted by the hospital's bustling corridors, its staff who smile as your son scurries by them. In the thick of medical tests and procedures, it still feels like home ... just a scary version of it.

Tomorrow we head back to Children's for our regular kidney testing and follow-up. This is always a scary day filled with anxiety for me. Please be thinking about our family.

Through the Eyes of Babes

...the world is much more beautiful.

Who knew weeds were so wonderful, except when looking at them through the eyes of a child? Spencer adores dandelions and loves picking them. During a recent jaunt to Ault Park, he was entertained for a long time by holding them up for us to sniff. (this is his his sniffing face ... too funny!)

Last night, I followed him around the yard for a long time as he casually at a homemade fruit pop and watched the ants crawl all over our firepit patio. He then scurried over to Mary and Ken’s yard to admire their cool flower pinwheels as the wind made them whirl. It was the perfect summer night.

This morning, he jumped on Brandon and me to give us a big hug. Then while Brandon was showering we went out on the porch and watch the garbage truck – yet another fascinating activity! Ah, what a great way to start the day. Team that with the sweet smell of honeysuckle that wisped into my nose on the walk from my parking lot at work …

Exercise ... ah how I've missed you

Pre-baby, exercise was an unquestioning part of my day-to-day life. I felt so much more alive, energized and happy after a good workout. That has been put to the side for almost two years now, first with the limitations imposed on me during pregnancy and then with the demands of balancing work, home and medical appointments.

Tonight, I went to a group mat class at Pendelton Pilates. It was AWESOME. It reminded me how much I thrive on regular exercise. So, as part of my ever evolving self-therapy I'm going to try to get back into the gym at least two times a week. The zoo walks just aren't proving to be enough.

An Uphill Battle

Sometimes, my life feels like it's turned into a constant uphill trek, never ceasing to allow me to catch my breath and take in the scenery. It is exhausting and frustrating all at once ... because I really, really, really want to take the time to enjoy the scenery.

The past few weeks we've been struggling with table food choking/barfing incidents with Spencer and borderline constipation. Things just haven't been completely normal ever since surgery. It is very hard to watch Spencer nibbling on something new, seeming to enjoy the experience then gag and violently throw up. The same goes for when he is getting constipated - random crying that something is hurting, but not being able to express what it is to us ends up in him crying. So very, very frustrating when I know all he'd really rather do is run around the living room jabbering, marching and spinning in circles giggling.

So, in an effort to embrace my self-enforced mantra (grant me the courage to change what can be changed ... the serenity to accept what cannot be changed ... and the wisdom to know the difference), I've placed numerous calls to Spencer's medical team to help alleviate problems, knowing full well it will most likely result in more tests or re-instating reflux meds and possible dilations on the esophagus front and a radical diet change on the constipation front.

Spencer's new thing: spinning in circles and walking backwards. He also really enjoys hugging our neighbor, Caroline.