Pobrecita

It all started that Monday with a high fever. Then a doctor's visit determined that an ear infection was the culprit. As instructed, I began alternating Children's Tylenol and Motrin for her fever and discomfort, and force-feeding her the dreaded Amoxicillin three times daily. My friends warned me about this seemingly sugary panacea and the disdain it summons in even the mildest-tempered of kids. And it's true, I've never seen Willa put up such a fight. The moment I squirted a little bit of it in her mouth, she thrusted her tongue forward, determined to push all of it right back out. When I did finally manage to get it past her tongue, she threw her head back and screamed. An awful gurgle ensued, a last ditch effort to block it from going down. And then she choked on it. This happened with each dose.

As a kid, I also hated to take my medicine. I'm a little embarrassed to admit this, but because a good blogger is an honest blogger, here it goes. I can remember throwing myself onto the floor in a kicking, arm-flailing tantrum over a single dose of antibiotic, probably Amoxicillin. My mom is a softy, so she didn't really fight me too much. But my dad, on the other hand, devised a clever plan to scare me into submission. He told me that if I refused to take my medicine (orally,) he would drive me to the hospital and have a doctor give it to me in the form of a shot. I took him up on his threat, and he drove me to the hospital. From there, however, he was stumped. We sat in the parking lot for a while as my bewildered father wondered how on earth he managed to get duped by a five year old. After composing himself, he drove me back home, defeated.

So back to my little pobrecita...The antibiotic caused diarrhea and diaper rash (pretty common) and an allover body rash (not so common.) It was not an allergic reaction, the doctor assured us, unless her lips and tongue swelled. So we were to continue the antibiotic for the full ten days. Her appetite had virtually vanished. (All she would eat were Cheerios.) And her once chubby thighs were growing visibly thinner. She even developed a little congestion in her chest. But by day seven, it looked as if the worst of it was behind us. The fever, congestion, and rash had all but disappeared. Then, yesterday, the rash came back with a vengeance. A bigger, redder, hotter version of it. And it was covering her, from her sweet, plump cheeks to her precious, tiny toes. It was a penicillin allergy, after all. And I, her mother and protector, had been feeding it for eight miserable days. We were prescribed a second antibiotic, Azithromycin, which will continue to fight the infection. But the rash, we will just have to wait out. There's lots of good news, though. The rash doesn't seem to bother Willa near as much as it does me. The new medicine must not taste as bad and is only administered once a day. And her appetite has returned, so we're working on filling back out those thighs.

Hence, I've reached another conclusion on my maternal journey. I will not always be able to protect her. I will be faced with many decisions along the way in which the answers are not clear. I will make some wrong choices. And it will never get any easier. Motherhood is a tough job, but somebody's gotta do it. And I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Mom-jeans and Minivans

I made an observation this morning. As I looked at myself in the mirror, wearing the saggy Old Navy shorts and tank that has become my uniform, I realized what I've done. I have become the mom that has let herself go. With comfy rubber flip-flops I proudly display the professional pedicure I got for Melissa's wedding on August 8th. (It's September 20th.) I don't know when I'll get back to the spa, so I'm keeping this one until every last speck wears off. My once chic, new haircut is a tad grown out. It's definitely more "slob," than "bob." But my ponytail is stylishly carefree, loosely secured by a plastic chip clip (circa 1990?) and I am sure it nicely accentuates my overdue root job. If I let it go a little longer, I think it just might pass for cutting edge style. One that even Traci and Rebekah couldn't top! How has this happened? I mean, the toenails and hairdo are one thing, but I have no excuse for running around in these sloppy duds. (That's what they are...duds.) I own a clothing store! What am I advertising? It's just that getting dressed is not the same fun as it used to be. It is actually quite daunting. My mom-attire has all sorts of requirements: Must be loose and lightweight (to combat the heat generated by toting around another human.) Must provide enough coverage for easy bending and picking up (because this is my only exercise.) Must lend ample support and convenient access to the food source (still breastfeeding.) So many requirements - is it really worth the trouble? And then there's the time limitations. Willa has become very fond of my arms, and if she isn't perched in them, she is on the floor looking for trouble. So I must dress with lightning speed. In case you're wondering how I have found time to write this post, well, I have traded bathing for blogging. Blogging has become much more crucial to my sanity than bathing. (Yes, I have considered Sean's feelings on this. And Sean is welcome to post about it and how it affects his sanity on his own blog.) So I ask my mom-friends and wide-spread Sprouting Daisies devotees (none of whom appear to be suffering from this affliction,) should I let this run it's course? Will it pass on it's own, or must I put forth some effort and reclaim what I have lost? And what will come next, mom-jeans and a minivan?

The Greatest Gift

I've been suffering from writer's block for the past 3 days, leaving this post about the transplant to sit, half-finished and well, un-posted. Each day I've tweaked it, but I haven't been able to get it just right. I finally realized this morning that no matter what I write, there are no words that will do justice to such a profound and moving event. So here it goes...

As they say, a sibling relationship is the longest relationship one can have. Lately, this truth has weighed heavy on my thoughts. Chris is my only sibling. And his life-threatening diagnosis has been a difficult thing for me. I have spent a lot of time, recently, thinking back to our childhood and remembering the ups and downs that Chris and I have shared.


Chris is 4 years older than me, which seemed to prove just the right amount of years to abundantly outsmart, overpower, and embarrass the shy little sister that I was. Chris showered me with brotherly love in all of the typical ways, through ruthless antics (like placing a dead tarantula on my pillow) and rough games (like catapulting me from a trampoline) and life lessons (like teaching me to use a stick shift.) Those stories are fun to remember, but it is the sweeter moments that have had the deeper impact on my life. As long ago as it was, I can still vividly recall Chris's caring efforts to shelter me from the hardship of our parent's divorce. And from everything from boyfriend trouble and the loss of pets to infertility and the loss of our grandparents, Chris has been there for me. As we've grown up, our relationship has evolved, but an unwavering companionship remains.


Having said all of that, I will do my best to tell the story. But if you want to see some great photos and a more entertaining account, I suggest you visit Jordan's blog.


Chris was diagnosed with kidney disease several years ago. The disease progressed, treatments failed, and Chris eventually became too sick to work. Everything seemed to be falling apart around him. He would need a transplant. And I wanted so badly to be the donor. It was never about being a savior or the grand gesture of it, it was just about a sister getting a chance to repay a brother for all he has brought to her life. However, my hopes were crushed from the start. During the phone screening, I learned that because I had recently had a baby, I was physically unfit for organ donation. But thankfully, countless other family members and friends volunteered.


Wanda was the first to be tested, and she made it through the first of several rounds. Chris's friends, Sean, Derrek, Jeff, and Tony, went in as a group for testing. It quickly became a competition between them. I never realized how much trash one could talk about another's kidney and/or blood type. The more redundant and ridiculous the jokes became, the funnier it got. Chris enjoyed it. It was refreshing to see him loosen up and laugh. He was the center of attention as his best friends fought over the chance to give up their kidneys and save his life. It was truly awesome.


Jeff was eliminated from the donor pool because of blood type. Which really isn't humorous at all, but the others still managed to make fun of him for it. It was eventually determined, based on the test results, that Derrek was a slightly better match than the others. He moved forward with a grueling day of testing. The results came back and it turned out that he was "exactly what they were looking for." I was glad it would be Derrek. He wanted it so badly and for the same reasons I had. He and Chris have a special bond that spans their lifetimes.


The transplant was scheduled for September 17th. Time passed very quickly as family and friends pulled together to finish Chris's and Wanda's house so that he could recover in the comfort of his own home.


The morning of the surgery was fraught with anxiety. Mom, Dad, Paula, Patsy, Michael, Destiny, Adam, Lea, Wanda, Jordan, Sean, Willa and I all stood by as Chris and Derrek waited, donning backless gowns, lying side by side in hospital beds. They passed the time and eased the tension with their typical juvenile humor. Chris stretched a latex glove down over his head and blew it up with his nose. They joked about their nakedness, the pretty nurses and how Wanda and Jordan had better watch them. And of course, they discussed plans of transplanting other bodily organs, with one in particular. If you can imagine.


The jovial mood immediately changed as soon as the nurse came to wheel Derrek off to his surgery. In that moment, everyone was reminded of Derrek's paramount gesture. And we were all overcome with gratitude, especially Chris.


Toward the end of Derrek's surgery, Chris's nurse came for him. As he passed the waiting room, where we all anxiously stood by, he asked the nurse to stop and let him kiss Willa goodbye. With all of the anti-rejection drugs he will be taking post-surgery, he will have to keep his distance from small children (and other germ risks.) He loves her so much, it will not be easy.


The first sigh of relief came when we got word that Derrek's surgery was complete and all had gone smoothly. The surgeon brought Jordan a video of the entire thing, and we watched it while we waited out Chris's surgery. Once Derrek was moved to his own room, the Penicks went to see him and the Kaisers moved to the ICU to await Chris's arrival. Apparently Derrek was still pretty high on pain meds and making everybody laugh. As the call came in to let them know that Chris was out of surgery, Derrek was once again overcome with emotion, and tearfully asked "Is it working yet?" And everybody cried with him, happy to hear the good news.

Back in ICU, Chris's face was full of color and he was making lots of urine, which was a great sign that the new kidney was doing it's job. Still pretty sleepy and loopy, he was also telling stories, making jokes, and entertaining. He told his new ICU doctor that his surgeon had grown too tired during the surgery and that he, himself, had to finish it up. (But, of course, it wasn't any big thing for Chris.) And when poor, anxious Wanda first came in to see him, he greeted his new bride with, "And who are you?" (The doctor mentioned that he might have gotten a little too much pain medication.) By the time I got in to see him, Chris was mostly asleep. Wanda and I were talking and he opened his eyes for just a minute, told us to "carry on" and then drifted back to sleep. Even though he was out of sorts, it was good to see a few glimpses of our old Chris.

Sean and I went up to Derrek's room to check on him before we headed home. He was wearing his ratty old baseball cap, his eyes were barely slit open, (hand firmly gripping his morphine drip,) and he was watching the video of his surgery. It was hilarious, yet almost painful, to watch him fight sleep. Every couple of minutes, he would start to nod off, but he never gave into it. He just kept smiling, enjoying the company and attention, and entertaining all of us with stories about the surgery (stuff we already knew.) As we turned to leave, Derrek called out to Sean (the non-donor,) gestured the loser sign and said, "It's official." Game over.


As I hope I've been able to convey, it was a very emotional day (and week.) I have so much love for both Derrek and Chris. I am eager to see Chris bounce back and use this gift to do great things with his life. And I am eternally grateful to Derrek, not only for the gift he has given my brother, but for what he has given a sister.

Product Plug

Every once in a while, I come across a product so surprisingly impressive, I can't wait to share it with my friends. A couple of years ago, after spending the weekend at our house, my friend, Lori, left me some Mrs. Meyer's All Purpose Cleaner as a "Thank You." I had noticed it before, but foolishly assumed that the product, itself, could never measure up to it's clever and cutesy packaging. But once I tried it, I was amazed by it's cleaning power and forever hooked. Not only is it safe for use around pets and babies, I think it works better than the stuff made with harsh chemicals. I use it regularly, around the house and shop, on cabinets, countertops, floors, walls, baseboards, toilets, shower doors, and more. The best part is the fragrance! My guests always compliment on how great my house smells. Lemon Verbena, Geranium, Basil, or Lavender...They are all so delightfully aromatic, I can't pick a favorite. So, I stock them all in my cleaning supply closet and switch it up according to my mood. It's important to note that a little goes a long way. Just dilute a small amount in a big bucket of warm water and get busy. Finally, Lori should be happy to know that whenever possible, I pay it forward, and give Mrs. Meyer's All Purpose Cleaner as a housewarming or hostess gift. Great idea!

Oh, Happy Day!

Chris and Wanda showed up at the house this afternoon as Husband and Wife. Yes, they tied the knot in a romantic, secret ceremony. It took place beside the pool at Jeff's house. Alli was there, of course, as well as Jeff and the officiant. We are so glad they finally did it, and think it's fantastic that they kept it simple - no frill, no fluff, only the important stuff. The honeymooners (with Derrek and Jordan) are heading to San Antonio tonight, to stay in a motel near the hospital where the donor and donee are to report early in the morning for a final round of pre-transplant testing. Congratulations! And welcome to the family!

Breakfast with the Girls

This morning, Tara, Rebekah, and I met for breakfast with our girls at Rather Sweet. We enjoyed each other's company over omelettes and pancakes. Everybody noticed that Willa wasn't quite herself, though. I attributed her fussiness to her missed morning nap. But by the time we got home, she was running a temperature of 104 degrees. Dr. Stafford diagnosed her with a mild ear infection and prescribed her very first antibiotic. (Milestone!) Even Rather Sweet Pancakes couldn't pep her up...

Rebekah with Camden (15 months)...

All of the girls...

We can't all be picture-perfect, all of the time...

Gracie Jolie-Pitt (8 weeks)...

Harlie Lyn (3)...

Harlie and Camden...

Big-girl fascination...

Thankfully, the infected one did not partake in the love-fest...

Smiling Down

The whole family got together tonight to celebrate the wonderful exchange that is about to take place. On Wednesday, Derrek and Chris will undergo the greatly anticipated kidney transplant. For Derrek, it is about giving the gift of all gifts, the gift of life, to his oldest, dearest friend and cousin. And for Chris, it means a life-saving, life-changing act of selflessness and love from his oldest, dearest friend and cousin. Jimmy toasted the two of them on behalf of the family. It was very heartfelt and touching, and left everyone speechless. Except for Chris, who stood up and graciously expressed his gratitude. The whole evening was amazing. This is what family is about. Vernon and Zola would be so proud.