Ben, A Bed Frame, and Seven Stitches

A few weekends ago, we went to the town of Crivitz, Wis., about an hour north of Green Bay, for a college reunion. There were eight girls (we drove from St. Paul, Blaine, Chippewa Falls, Green Bay, Mequon (near Milwaukee) and Spring Grove, Ill.), five guys, and 15 kids under the age of 10. We drank, we swam at the beach, we sat by the campfire, we laughed, we cried along with one of our friends when she got the call that her 68-year-old mom had died (all together now: we hate cancer), just the girls kayaked 13 miles, we ate too much, we drank some more. The kids caught frogs, played on the swing set, argued in the sandbox, chased one another, laughed, acted goofy, cried (at times), swam, fished, and had a blast just doing what kids do on hot summer days when other kids are around and regular rules don't apply. (Cupcakes for breakfast? ok. Bedtime at 11 p.m.? ok. Wear your swimsuit and nothing else all day and night? ok. Play outside barefoot until your feet turn black? ok.)

Nothing says summer like a popsicle! This was just three of the families in Crivitz (minus the two youngest: Ben and Nathan). The following day, three more families arrived. Lots 'o kids!

The college gang decided that—from here on out—we're going to get together with just the girls once every winter and get together once every summer with our families. My only complaint is that another friend in Minneapolis (Leah), and friends in Colorado (Webs), Idaho (Tonya), California (Amy K., honorary UWEC alum), and Indiana (Schmidty) weren't there, too. I can't even remember the last time we were all together. Maybe in April of 2005 at my wedding? And even then Holly was gone, having a baby. (Legitimate excuse)
Anyhow, after a fun four-day trip and a long five-hour car ride home, we unpacked, ate dinner, gave the boys much-needed baths, and told them to pick out their bedtime stories. I knew I still had work (writing) to do and all I wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep for 24 hours. I was wiped out. The kids were wiped out. Aaron was wiped out.
As I was putting clothes away in Adam's room, I heard Ben suddenly cry from our room where he was trying to climb up onto the "big bed." I usually wait a second to see if his cry is a "I hurt myself again but I'm alright" cry or one of those all-too-common for a 2-year-old "I'm frustrated!" cries or an "I'm-overtired-and-everything-right-now-makes-me-cry" cry. When no sound came out for a few seconds between his first and second cry, I knew it was the dreaded "HOLY $#@%! I'M IN PAIN!" cry. I hate that cry. It usually means blood is involved.
I was right. When I picked him up, there was a pool of blood forming on the top of his right foot. How did he cut it? I grabbed him, took him into the bathroom, and ran his foot under cold water. As soon as the water washed the blood away, I saw the gash. OMG. Was that the bone? That wasn't the bone, was it? (It wasn't, but it was still disturbingly deep.)
I yelled, "Aaron! Come here! Ben sliced his foot open and it looks really bad!"
Adam was nearly hysterical, Ben was crying, and I was trying not to lose my shit. Aaron came bounding up the stairs, took a look at Ben's foot, and we made the joint decision that it was bad enough to bring him to urgent care. I even called Tonya to ask for a second opinion since, ya know, she works in the ICU and probably sees more open wounds than anyone else I know. (She agreed that we should bring him in.)

                                                                 The injury.

Aaron jumped online and found a nearby urgent care clinic that was open until 10 p.m.
At this point, Adam was in full-on freak-out mode. An example of his dialogue: "I have a cut on my forehead, do I need stitches, too?!? I have to change out of my pajamas?!?! What??? I just put them on! Where are we going!?!? What did Ben do?!?! What are stitches!?!?! How long will we be gone?!?! What do they have to do to him!??!! Are we staying there all night?!?!"
I wanted to yell, "ADAM, CALM DOWN! Why are YOU freaking out?! Ben is the one whose foot looks like the Grand Canyon!" but by now I understand that Adam worries, and stresses, and over-reacts — that is who he is. I try to be sensitive to the fact that he is our worrier, our scaredy cat, our give-me-all-the-information-so-I-can-process-this-situation-in-my-own-way child. He is always thinking. Always.
Ben is our reckless, fearless, "So what? I cut my foot open. What's it to ya? Let's get ice cream" child. Ben reacts, then thinks ... which is probably why we've had to take him to urgent care twice now.
As we headed to Woodbury's Urgency Room, I sat in the backseat and held Ben's foot up so that it was elevated. He didn't cry once in the car, just stared at the blood-soaked towel wrapped around his foot.
"Ben, what happened?" I asked.
"I got an owie," he shrugged.
[You might think I'm exaggerating, but I swear I'm not.]
At the clinic, the boys were eerily well-behaved. I think it was because they were half-asleep, still recovering from an action-packed weekend in Crivitz. The nurse complimented us on our kids' behavior and complained about some parents who let their little ones "run all over." I know those kids ... those kids have been ours, too. It can be a challenge trying to keep active kids entertained when you're cooped up in a doctor's office. I have done my fair share of kid-bouncing, jiggling, reading, and singing before swearing to myself, "Damn you, Doctor XYZ! Where are you? And damn you too, nurse So-and-So, for sticking us in this holding cell before the doc was ready to see us! There were toys in the lobby. There are no toys in this room!"
But this was urgent care—with, I'm sure, a big, fat urgent care bill to go along with it—and we had a TV to entertain the kids until the doc came in. We were also offered juiceboxes and bottled water. And lobster and filet mignon. And a bottle of pinot gris. (wouldn't that be nice?)
The doctor came in, gently held Ben's foot in his hand, said the cut was "superficial" but that we made the right decision to bring him in (I'm always worried that we're over-reacting), determined that Ben needed stitches, asked the nurse to put the numbing agent around the wound (Ben cried a little at this point - protesting "It's cold! It's cold!"). He also cried/protested when I had to get off the bed, where Ben had been leaning back against me, and leave Ben on there without me so the doctor could do his thing. I think he cried more about this than he did the actual injury. After the numbing agent kicked in (30 minutes or so), the doctor returned to sew my little boy's foot back together. Adam had to turn his head away while the doctor was closing the wound, but Ben wanted to watch every last stitch (there were seven). He loudly yelled "It HURTS!" at the very end, when the doctor admitted the numbing agent probably hadn't kicked in all over and "he might feel this part."Usually, though, I was able to distract him with questions. Thank God, too, for his blankie. That thing has come in handy so many times when Ben has needed comforting.

 Ben upset that I had to leave him all alone on that big, scary hospital bed. "Get up here, Mom!"

The nurse commented that Ben was very brave and abnormally calm for a 2-year-old. I agreed. I was expecting him to thrash or scream or try to run away. He didn't do any of those things. I mean, the kid watched the doctor put in the stitches. How can he belong to me? I am the girl who has to put her head between her legs when she gets her finger pricked. I am a class-A wuss.
The nurse brought the boys each a freezie, we filled out some paperwork, and we were on our way. It was a very slick process. 
We later figured out that Ben caught a sharp part of our bed frame when trying to hoist himself onto our bed. It's the only sharp part under our bed, and if you lined up 1,000 kids and had them do the exact same thing, I bet the other 999 would come away unscathed. If he can hurt himself, odds are, he will.
For a week, Ben had to stay out of swimming pools and bathtubs (no fun when the temps were hovering near 100 degrees and the daycare kids were all outside splashing in the little pool). He was good at daycare, though, and understood that he couldn't swim and he couldn't run around barefoot. That Sunday I returned to The Urgency Room so he could get the stitches removed, since they told us it was a free service. Aaron was golfing so I was on my own with the kids. 
So ... we went. And the cut had not fully healed. The paramedic who carefully took out each of the seven stitches had to call in a (very, very good-looking) doctor, who said, "Well, I won't go ahead and put in more stitches" [WHAT?! You just took them out!] "but, in order for Ben not to bust his foot open again, we need to put on these steri-strips and keep him out of the water for another few days."
Ben stayed out of the pool for another week and — knock on wood — looks like his wound has finally healed. 
Please-please-please let this be the only urgent care/ER visit of the year. Is that really too much to ask?

Maybe, if we kept him in a box, he wouldn't keep hurting himself?

Two

It's mind-blowing, really, how much a baby changes in the span of his/her first year, and equally amazing how much he/she changes from years one to two. What a fun (and exhausting!) year this has been, even with Ben losing a tooth in October and needing surgery at Children's Hospital.
He is such an energetic, smart, stubborn, opinionated, sassy, sweet, serious, skeptical, funny little guy. They call him the class clown at daycare.
He talks a lot, but here are a few key expressions that come to mind: "STOP COPYING ME!" "Adam's NAUGHTY!" "Ben's the boss!" (Aaron is quick to correct him) "Hold you me" (hold me) "Pip killed the bunny" (Ben never saw this, just overheard my parents talking about their cat, Pip, and how a certain bunny met his untimely demise. I don't even think Ben knows what "killed" means (at least, I hope not) I think he says it for the shock factor. He'll bring it up at the most random times), "Grandma Cake can't run anymore" (Grandma Cake is my grandma, Kate, and she now walks with a cane. Ben is fixated on this, and like the Pip story, he'll bring it up randomly — even when my grandma is nowhere nearby) "Can't get me!" (he loves playing tag) "Cool dude!" (whenever he's wearing his sunglasses) "Tiko-tiko" (as he's attempting to tickle someone) "May-wee" (Mary, our daycare provider) "Apro" (his 19-year-old cousin April), "Kay-wah (his 11-year-old cousin Kayla) "Moe-gan" (his 4-year-old cousin Morgan), "Mox" (his 5-year-old cousin Max), "Gwamma" and "Gwampa" (my parents). He likes playing with his cousins, and when he's naming off his daycare friends (Sammy, Zander, Taylor) he includes his uncle Josh (his godfather) among them. His aunties Amy, April, and Trish spoil him with hugs and kisses, as do his uncles Shawn, Josh, Nick, and Jake (I have a feeling he'll develop a bond with Jake someday). He calls my MIL by her first name — Patti — not "Grandma Patti" and he adores her. He knows that I am Chrissy, Daddy is Aaron, and Adam is his brother. He knows all about Auntie Tonya (his godmother) and Baby Evan out in Idaho (I'll blog about that trip at some point!). He also knows that he's 2 and Adam "is going to be five."
Like most 2-year-olds, he likes playing at the park, playing with cars and trucks (dump trucks, diggers, anything with flashing lights and annoying sounds), climbing, swinging, going down slides, swimming, waterparks (he still talks about the Kalahari — and we went there in April), throwing, kicking, or hitting balls, chasing his friends (or being chased), playdates with Greta, Aliza, Sadie, Jacob, Broder, Jack, Reese and Sofia, books and shows about Thomas the Train, Elmo, Mickey Mouse, Caillou, Super Why (and the Super Readers), Fireman Sam, and Curious George.
He is still very attached to his blankets — one blue, one green. They comfort him when he's anxious, soothe him when he's tired, and pacify him when he's bored. It's kind of ironic that we tried so hard to avoid giving him a Nuk (Aaron would let Ben suck on his finger for ever when he was a baby rather than stick a pacifier in his mouth), and now Ben's just as attached to "blankies" as Adam was to "Nukies." I hope he's not one of those college kids who sleeps with a piece of ratty old baby blanket under his pillow.
He is an excellent eater and will eat almost anything we put in front of him. At his 3-year checkup, he was 3 feet tall and weighed 33 pounds, putting him in the 95th percentile. I did the Baby Center estimate to see how tall he'd be at 18, and the estimate was 6'2". I'll take it. (Adam's was 5'6". I hope his is wrong.) His favorite foods are similar to Adam's favorites: pesto noodles, French fries, hamburgers, Morning Star chickpea nuggets, Chipotle burrito bowls, rotisserie chicken without the skin, blueberries, apples, oranges, pineapple, bananas, pickles, gold fish crackers, Cheetos (he would eat a whole bag if we let him), juice and milk. He won't drink chocolate milk but drinks white milk like it's goin' out of style. He also likes water — something Adam doesn't like. (I admit we have to work on this.)
He can be tough at times. I've seen him tackle Adam and reduce him to tears, I've seen him wrestle toys away from Adam, I've seen him pick up large toys and hold them over his head like a mini Hulk. He plays a lot more rough-and-tumble than his big brother ever did (who, at 35 pounds, won't be the big brother for much longer). When Ben was a chubby newborn, our pediatric doctor was astounded that he didn't cry after his circumcision (a first in her experience), and a nurse recently was surprised when she pricked his finger to check his blood for lead (which came back normal, thankfully. Last year it came back high and he had to be re-tested) and he didn't flinch, and then didn't cry when she gave him a shot. I don't know if he has a high tolerance for pain or if he's in shock. I just know I feel a lot less guilty when he's not howling hysterically after a trip to the doctor's office.
One of his favorite toys is his lawn mower. Sometimes we bring it to our softball games so he can "lawn the grass" (as Adam would say) while one of the grandmas is babysitting. He loves animals and any time we pass a dog (at the park, at softball, on a walk), he announces "I wanna pet it!" I'm trying to teach him that he MUST ask the owner first if it's ok. He's been knocked over by little dogs and licked like crazy by big ones, and so far he isn't traumatized. I wish we a) lived in a bigger house or b) weren't gone from 7 a.m. to 5 p.m. so we could get either a cat or a dog. I bring the boys to PetSmart sometimes because it's on our way home from daycare and it's free entertainment. It can be heartbreaking, though, seeing those beautiful kitties in their cages, patiently waiting to be chosen. Adam knows that we will get a dog "some day, when we live in a different house."
Ben is a jumper. He jumps ALL THE TIME. His favorite thing to do is jump off the last step of any staircase or flight of steps, no matter where we are. I know this is coming, so make sure to hold his hand. (We don't need any more trips to the ER.)
He likes to ride his bike (or, more accurately, sit on the bike while we push him around) and never argues when we put on his helmet. He has a tendency to argue about a lot of other things, so I'm thankful that he just wears the helmet without protesting.
He's a natural athlete, or at least he seems to be so far. There are some kids on Adam's t-ball team who are at Ben's skill level (and height!). A few of the 4 and 5-year-olds had never thrown a ball before joining t-ball, which is hard to believe, but maybe their parents just don't have an interest in sports? And maybe, on the flip side, some parents would think it's nuts that Ben and Adam don't play an instrument or know how to read (yet) or tie their own shoes or eat sushi. Anyhow, Ben thinks he's on Adam's team, and I have to regularly chase him when he tries to run out on the field during the games. Since Aaron is the coach, we let Ben hit balls off the tee after the other kids go home, and that way he feels like he's also playing. When he gets a good hit, he announces "I SMACKED that ball!" and then proceeds to run to the pitcher's mound, or left field, or over to the bench. (He's too young to understand the base-running concept.)
He likes taking naps and going to bed, and he will ask you to bring him to bed if he's overtired. He still sleeps in a crib in our room, but we're talking about moving him in with Adam this summer. Fingers crossed that the transition works out well for all four of us.
He can be charming and witty and so full of life, and when he laughs with delight "Do it AGAIN, Mama!" "AGAIN, Daddy!" "Watch me! I'm FUNNY!" my heart feels full to the point of overflowing, so filled up I can hardly stand it, and justlikethat he'll bring me down to earth with a 2-year-old temper tantrum as he whips his sippy cup across the room in frustration, crosses his arms defiantly over his chest, and shouts "NO! I NO WANT TO!" but man oh man am I in love with him. Ben's first birthday party. He REALLY liked the cake. A lot. Little buddy Jack. Summer, summer, summer time ... Ryder visits from Cali. Happy Halloween! Relaxing at the retreat. First snowfall of the season. A different point of view. Cutting down our Christmas tree. December 2011. Ben with his big cousin "Apro". Look! He's sitting still! I love this kid so much. Pure joy. Little ham. Checking out cousin Lily. Future Lunds shoppers. We pretend he's on the team. Mr. Sunshine with Uncle Shawny. Cupcake celebration at home. I did it! Hooray! I'm TWO!!!

Friends, some day

I know a lot of parents say this, possibly to the point of it sounding cliché, but it’s so, so true … so I’m going to repeat it. When you fall deeply in love with your firstborn, you wonder if you’ll be able to love another child with that same intensity.

I wondered if my relationship, my bond, my connection with Ben would be totally different than how I feel about Adam.

I wondered, “Will there be enough of me to go around?”
I wondered if Adam would resent Ben (he did), if he would be jealous (he was), if he would understand why he had to "share" me (he didn't). 

It was hard, at first, feeling like I wasn’t paying enough attention to the little boy who taught me how to be a mom, feeling like I was choosing Ben over Adam when I had to feed Ben, change him, suddenly drop whatever I was doing to save him from sudden disaster (I have done my fair share of "saving" over these past two years, that's for sure!). I felt like I was somehow abandoning my beautiful little blond-eyed buddy. I worried that he’d think I was “replacing” him. I wondered if he would ever begin to see his little brother as a playmate, a friend, a constant companion rather than a nuisance and a burden. 

Gradually (definitely not all at once), we have become a tight-knit family of four. My heart swells when I see those rare moments when the boys play together, laugh together, even fight (is it bad to laugh when they're both so upset?) … I hope these moments are the start of a life-long bond, the kind of bond you can only share with a sibling. I hope Ben is the best man in Adam’s wedding one day; and vice versa. 

They’re as different as night and day, yet they both wholeheartedly have my love. And some day I hope they wholeheartedly have each other's love, too.

Winter Recap + Lucky Seven

Annual friends/family ice fishing contest on Forest Lake (organized by my big brother Shawn). It was freeeeezing cold outside, yet somehow still fun to get outside on a winter day.


Aaron and I went snowboarding at Trollhaugen Jan. 22 through the Media Ski Series. Benefits = discounted lift tickets and riding with work buddies!


GMG represent! Coworkers/friends Alex, Katie and I boarded (not pictured = Jeremy, who was preparing to race when we took this shot, and my boss Sara, who was in the chalet); Kelly skied. Super fun day.


The hosts of Rem's baby shower at Karla's house in Stillwater Jan. 29 - Katie, Megan, Karla, me, Rem, and Amy (aka Money). I love these girls! Remme had two beautiful baby girls March 7, Reese and Sofia. And life forever changed in their household ...


Birthday tradition - snowtubing at Green Acres! Lots of people missing from this pic (my sis-in-law Amy, Jake, and nieces Kayla and Morgan; my friend Amy, husband Andy, her sister Carla and Carla's friend; my sis-in-law April and nephew Lane; friends Tara & Jeremy).


Getting ready to do a whip chain! Wheeeeeee!


Happy third birthday to me!


My niece April and Ben, hanging out in Forest Lake. It's hard to get a good pic of Ben smiling, but you can really see his gap in this one.


We went out to support Aaron's dad Rick and his girlfriend Tami as they participated with the Lexington Fire Department in the Fight for Air Stair Climb Feb. 25 at the Accenture Tower downtown Minneapolis. They climbed 660 stairs (!) and helped raise funds for the American Lung Association.


Grandma Patti's Annual Sleepover March 3. Adam is trying to teach his cousin Logan how to spell a new word! Poop! Yes, I'm a proud parent. (ha ha)


Beautiful niece Morgan at the sleepover. I never did get a pic of cousins Max or Lane; cousin Kayla was at her dad's. Group shot next year!


My family came out to our company's Food & Wine Experience March 4 at Target Field. I had to work the show, but was able to walk around with them for about 20 minutes. So much to eat! So much to drink! So little time!


Last day of swimming lessons at Como Elementary, March 10. Another good season.


Our Water Baby and Tiny Tot.


The grandkids sure do love Grandma Patti. She's pretty amazing.


On the way to our friend Shane's 40th birthday bash in Rochester. (We only rode this way for a few miles.)


Some of Aaron's friends from high school (minus Rem, Russ and Chad) ... such a fun group. We try to get together once a year without the kids; once every year or two with the kids. I think there were 17 kids at the last get-together.


Garage in the suburbs of Rochester is transformed into Wild Dance Party ... crazy night.


Who says it's easy being green? Life ain't easy, sister.



Cousin Lane's birthday party in St. Francis.


I love that my dad and Aaron are friends. My dad loves that Aaron is always willing to help in any way. Aaron loves that my dad teaches him as they go.


Perfect spring day at a park in Roseville.


Daycare buddies preparing for the Easter egg hunt. Can we go now? Can we go now? Can we go now? How about now?


Visiting Rem and the twins. Adorable babies!


I used to ride kiddy tractors just like these on my grandparents' farm in New Richmond. Good memories.


I love this guy so much. Sometimes I have to pinch myself — it's not a dream! Life isn't perfect, but we are a pretty solid team. I know it sounds cheesy, but Aaron completes me.
Today is our seventh wedding anniversary.