Colton Is One!

I truly cannot believe that it's been a year since I had our little Colton Blake. And I know everyone says that. But really, how does it happen in the blink of an eye? I thought time went by fast with Landon, but wow! I feel like I was in labor just yesterday. (Sort of. I totally don't remember the pain... purposefully.) I can only imagine what number three will feel like. Not that I'm planning to figure that out anytime soon.

Less than 24 hours old. Read Colton's birth story here.

I love every stage for different reasons, but this age is one of my favorites. I adore watching their little personalities develop. Colton is curious, into everything, a little ham, oh-so-snuggly, and my, oh my, so very stubborn. I have NO idea where he got that from. (My family might.) He loves trucks and balls and I always finding him stashing stuff in containers. He is loud when he wants attention, sleeps wonderfully, grins at everyone, eats all day (no, really), loves to climb, and is constantly giggling. I love it! 

We had a little party with some friends here in Texas. I didn't really plan anything - I threw stuff together a couple hours before the party (Colton will never know!). But we had fun and ended up playing multiple games of Monopoly Deal. I mean, what else do you do at a one-year-old's birthday party when he's already in bed? 

We had pizza, M&M Chex Mix (I will post the recipe later this week because it's to die for), veggies, chips, and of course, cake. I made Colton a mini smash cake and Landon got into it at least four times. What can I say? Buttercream icing is a life-changer.

He was so frustrated that Randy wouldn't let him have it immediately. What did I tell you, impatient!

He sure smashed his smash cake. I think he enjoyed smashing more than eating.

Mmm... maybe not.

"Dat ish guuuuud. Berry guuuud."

Finally my mother is being kind and letting me eat my brother's cake and OD on sugar.

Love that smile - he was so proud!

Right before we took the cake away, he decided he hadn't had quite enough.

What can I say? He also inherited my love of sugar.

We are so thankful for this sweet, stubborn, giggly, messy, loud, independent, silly, chubby, blue-eyed, blond-haired, absolutely lovable little guy. Can't imagine our lives without him.

Happy birthday, Colton Blake. You are a gift from a kind God, and we are so grateful He chose us to be your parents.

If Only I Had Known

Since finding out about Landon's genetic deletion, I have often gone back through his baby pictures and cried. "If only I had known," I've thought. "Maybe things would be different. Maybe I could have helped him." I have felt that I've failed him, and in a sense, I've felt that I lost the baby I thought was perfect and perfectly normal.

If I had known about his syndrome, I could have had him in therapy from a few months old. We would have seen all those specialists we're just now seeing way back in those early days and taken care of any issues then. It would have explained all his breastfeeding problems and why it took him longer to walk. And holy cow, the speech issues! 

But there are two sides to every coin, and Landon's story is no exception. If I had known he had all those palate/low tone issues, perhaps Landon and I wouldn't have fought so hard for him to breastfeed. But we did, and after several weeks, that fighter of a baby got it. Hospital stays and visits to specialists would have taken away his time with me, probably stressed both of us out, and perhaps even delayed his development. And I never even expected him to develop differently. Truth is, other than his speech, he developed pretty normally. [By the way, I've gotten the whole "Is Colton any different than Landon was?" question a lot. Colton is actually less vocal and a whole lot more feisty. Goes to show you that there are hyperactive children without a syndrome. Shocker. ;)] If I'd known there was something wrong, I probably would have expected less from Landon. But I didn't. And guess what? He has thrived - even without therapy! And although I don't know every one of God's reasons, I do think a big reason He kept us from knowing about Landon's syndrome for so long was so that we had that time to bond and fall in love with a joy-filled, giggly, crazy, hilarious, darlin' little boy who has rocked our world in the best way possible.

And then there's me. God knew where He needed to take me, how he needed to grow me, stretch me, and push me before He sent this testing of my faith. This does not mean I've arrived. Oh boy, does it NOT.

You see how a little perspective changes everything?

I had over two years with Landon before I even realized something was wrong. And now that I know about his diagnosis, I don't love him any less or see him differently. In fact, I love him more. To me, he's just a crazy 3-year-old with an incredible amount of energy and a sweetness that melts my heart every day. [This does not mean he is sweet all day every day, and I most definitely do not walk around melting all day every day. Trust me on this one.] I rejoice in every milestone, whether that's saying "hippo" correctly (don't ask), knowing his alphabet and colors (I'm excited about those, not gonna lie), or learning how to put his shoes on (patiently, without attitude... ahem). Landon has a different timetable than what is considered "normal," and that's okay. It's his timetable. His daddy and I will cheer him on every step of the way.

See, the truth is, if I could go back in time and change things, I wouldn't. God, in His goodness, gave me a gift, let me enjoy it, appreciate it, learn from it - and then He did something really great. He made that gift even more precious to me. If only I had known from the beginning, perhaps I wouldn't treasure Landon the way that I do.

Most of the days after I had Landon are a sleepless blur, but there is a moment that keeps coming back to me. I can't help but wonder if it's God's sweet reminder that Landon is the same person he was three years ago. After I had Landon, I called my mom to tell her the happy news. She was so excited. "What's he like?" she asked. I looked at his tiny button nose, sweet little lips, and dark head of hair (oh, that hair!). "Perfect," I said. "Absolutely perfect."

Sleep Props (for the win)

My children are crazy. They whine, they destroy, they conquer (things they shouldn't), they cry, they drive me completely nuts (which I think is already apparent), but there is one thing my children do right. They SLEEP. (Well, they are also really cute and sweet, but that's not my point.) So if we have a day where everything goes wrong, I can count on the fact that they will go to bed and sleep for a long time. I have two secrets. Well, okay, they're not really secrets. They're things that work for us. And I will be the first to say that what works for me does not work for everyone else. I hate when a book title reads "How To Get Your Child to Sleep in Six Weeks and How I Did it in Five," and if your baby fails to do that, you also think you've failed as a parent. Dumb.

I did read a couple books, took the helpful information, and threw out the rest. But here, my friends, is how I get my children to sleep and stay asleep.

Sound machine. Rain. As loud as possible. In a mini metal red wagon so it sounds even louder.

(Note: I've tried a couple different brands, but so far, this one is my favorite. It's Homedics brand and I have invested in three).

No, we are not trying to hide drugs. That is a blanket over blinds, an actual blackout curtain, towels hanging over the top to cover the light coming in through there, AND a black comforter to get even more light out. And wait, in case you missed it, have a closer look...

Yep, you saw that correctly. His blackout curtains are pinned to the wall. 

Now, before you tell me I'm ghetto, yo... remember, I don't care. My children sleep for 12-14 hours every night. And they nap (well, Landon is getting around to losing his nap, but he still rests if he doesn't sleep - aka whines). 

[I did find Colton dying giggling in his crib around 8:30 this morning because he'd torn down the blankets and window coverings. LOL I'M SO FUNNY MOM.]

Do they sleep when we're out of town? Nope. We're not really big fans of those things they call "vacations." But since that's approximately .00005 percent of my year, that's okay. Sleep props, baby. All the way!

One more thing. My kiddos started sleeping through the night at around 2 months, but they had regressions. I promise that there will always and forever and ever be regressions (and usually there's this awesome one right before you have your second kid). You will feel like you are dying, you will wonder if you will ever sleep again, you will Google every possible reason as to why "my 6 month old is not sleeping," you will finally figure out it's teething, but then it's not, you will cry, and then, suddenly, they'll go back to sleeping normally. Usually, there is no rhyme or reason to it. Isn't that all of motherhood?

So... there you have it. My name is Becca, and I'm a sleep prop parent!

It Takes Two

So, I just want to be the first person to say that it did not snow here in Florida. It iced. A lot. In fact, there was so much ice that it actually looked like it snowed. Grocery stores closed, Firehouse Subs closed (and I'm pretty bitter about that), schools closed.  I really, really, really hate cold. But the ice was kind of pretty.

See? Dead grass, ugly bush, pretty ice. But this post isn't about the weather. I've been meaning to (my famous four words in blogging) write about having two kiddos for while. Just a little snapshot in our lives for the fun of it.

After I had Colton, my midwife said, All right! Now you've done the hardest work of parenting! I'm sorry, what? Although my memory of the pain is a bit (a lot) hazy, I do know this: I would take my 7 hours of contractions with Landon and my 3.5 hours of contractions with Colton instead of taking both of them to Walmart. True story.

[I mean, Walmart is bad enough without children. Truly, I'm convinced they only make broken carts. And no matter how well I wipe them down with Wet Ones, I get the heebie-jeebies when my boys put their hands on the bars. Gross.]

But anyway. I think my midwife must have kind of forgotten how crazy these young years are. Either that, or she was trying to make me feel awesome after giving birth. And the only awesome part about giving birth is holding that baby. End of story. Now, truth be told, I am one of those strange mamas who found the transition from one to two ridiculously easy. It actually kind of scared me. Now that Colton is older and mobile, however, things are getting trickier. Like, for instance, I totally forgot how awesome a 10-month-old finds the toilet. And how they eat everything they see - flip-flops, dirt, plastic wrap......scissors. When they're infants, you stick them in the swing and they don't move. It's awesome. And then they grow up and start crawling at 6 months (really, kid?) and then your life is basically over. In a good, crazy, non-stop sort of way. Also, there's this whole new "possessive" thing Landon has going on. He's never acted jealous of Colton, but holy cow, if Colton gets near a toy that he's playing with - stop.the.music. He asks me to put Colton in his room so they can play together, but then a few minutes later I hear a scream and a "bye baby, bye baby, BYEEEE BABYYYYYYY!!!!" It gets louder and louder and more and more desperate. I find it hilarious in a non-funny way. However, Landon has this innate desire to please. So we're working on sharing, and it's getting better. For the time being.

There's also this scenario that happens before we walk out the door. Without fail. Which is why, in part, I'm not a fan of going to Walmart with them. "Landon, go get your shoes so I can put them on." Okay, cool. Shoes on. "Wait. Did you seriously POOP AGAIN??" Shoes off. Diaper change. Shoes back on. Now let's get Colton up from his nap since he just fell asleep 7.3 minutes ago. Now Colton is mad. And then he also remembers that he's hungry for yogurt. Then he starts crying louder and is hyperventilating while I change his now-poopy diaper. Oh wait, no, it's a blow-out. Okay. New outfit. LANDON WHY ARE YOU EATING CANDY? Colton is now screaming. Can't find the paci because it's somewhere under his crib with all the other pacis that he's thrown under there. LANDON PUT YOUR SHOES BACK ON. (even though he hasn't mastered that skill yet, I feel like saying it will somehow teach him to perfect it.) Sorry, Colton, no time to eat. Landon asks for a drink. Can't find his sippy cup. Run around the house and finally find it in the bathtub. Also find five pacis along the way. Landon, which toy do you want to take with you? Okay, your car? Cool. Oh, look, yay, Colton spit up on his outfit. Oh well. Finally make it in the car. Two minutes down the road, "Mee Mow?" (Mickey) "You chose the car, baby, though... remember?" "MeeeeeeeMowwwwww!" "Mickey is taking a nap. Do you want to take a nap?" Yeah... that one works exceptionally well. And don't worry, I do eventually feed Colton. I have to say, I think the hardest part about having two, hands down, is taking them out places. Thank goodness for baby carriers.

The last couple weeks, I have felt like I was going a bit cray cray. I mean, why do these children even need to eat? Can't they find food on the floor? I mean, like, nutritious food? Randy was insanely busy with flight school, Colton had the sickies, and I was exhausted. You know, like so tired that when you go to do the dishes, you start crying. However, I feel like a tiny bit of sanity is returning because Randy has finally finished intermediate training (woohoo!). It's supposed to take six-ish months, but it took him nearly two years. And this, my friends is the way of the military. Hurry up and wait. But that's for another post. Anyway, now that he's not studying/flying around the clock, I feel a bit more relaxed. And we actually got to go on a date for the first time since before Christmas. We went to see a movie and ate dinner without refereeing. That felt... weird. But nice weird.

this is how we feel when we're out by ourselves.

I know, I know - those of you who aren't mothers are probably thinking, and why on earth would I ever want to be a mom? But in reality, all those crazy mama moments don't mean a hill of beans when I go in to kiss those sweet boys good night, or when I watch them playing peekaboo and dissolving into a puddle of giggles together, or when I get sweet, spontaneous hugs from Landon, or when he says a new word (clearly!), or when I see them playing with their daddy, or when I'm rocking Colton before he goes to sleep and he gently pats me on the back (I guess I need soothing too), or when I get to see them do all their "firsts," or when I get to hear "mama" for the first time.

Yes, of course this thing called mommyhood is hard. It is exhausting, it is overwhelming, and there are days I call my mom and say, "How on earth did you do this with seven?" [She's totally my hero.] But it is absolutely worth it, and I have no doubt that this is what I'm supposed to be doing. And honestly? I wouldn't have it any other way. I am so thankful for sticky, chubby fingers, for little voices calling, "Mama!", and for babies who need me. (I'm not so super thankful for the diaper changes. Is that okay?) These moments will be gone all too soon, and I'm going to cherish them while I can.

[Okay, so I might not cherish the moments in Walmart, but that's why we avoid it at all costs.]

Update on Landon

Back when I was the perfect parent - you know, before I had kids - I had a lot of fabulous ideas about how this whole thing would go. And they really were fabulous. Candy would not be kept in the house. Keeping children quiet while shopping or eating out would never include bribing. I would make all my baby food from scratch. Sleep props simply wouldn't be allowed. I would be patient, calm, and handle all parenting issues with quiet grace (after all, my mama did, and wasn't I so much like her?). And when I saw special needs kids, I always knew God would only give me "normal" children. After all, He only gives those types of kids to parents who can handle them.

I am convinced that God has a sense of humor.

Not only do I keep candy (hidden) in my house, I stash M&M's in my purse - for bribes. Yup. I do not have time to make baby food. I make sure I have a fully charged cell phone before entering a restaurant with a child. Sleep props - pacifiers, sleep machines, blackout curtains - yes, please. Give me more. I've learned that I'm nothing like my mama and a whole lot like this thing called Impatience. That's a bummer. And, funny enough, God gave me a child with a bunch of special needs.

I wanted to give an update on our little Landon after my last post. We've had a lot of doctor's appointments since I blogged last, so things were a bit chaotic for a while. Side note: I am so thankful for my friend Kierra and my grandma here in Pensacola who sacrificed their time (and energy) to watch Colton while I took Landon to his appointments. Randy has been busy with flight school, and there's no way I could have done it without their help!

I wish I could fully express my thankfulness to each one of you who has reached out to us during what was a very dark time. Randy and I are so, so grateful for all your love, support, and prayer for Landon and for our little family. I read through your comments, messages, and texts, and I cried. How good God is to give us a community of believers to surround us in trials.

So, our little Lando (so dubbed by his Uncle Ricky). He's still the same happy ball of energy he always has been! Still gelling Colton's hair with Desitin, brushing his own hair with mascara, and consuming an entire tube of Elmo toothpaste in one mischievous sitting. It gets a whole lot worse than that, but I'll leave it there. Many of you have asked about Landon's specific symptoms. The range of complications with the 22q deletion/DiGeorge Syndrome is huge, and we feel extremely blessed that Landon is only mildly affected so far. What we know of at this point is that he has low muscle tone and a speech delay/articulation problems. And if you've read the list of possible symptoms - that's pretty amazing. [He did have feeding problems as a baby because of his palate/low tone, and he got a lot of upper respiratory infections as a baby, but those have resolved as he's gotten older.]

His low muscle tone is very mild - it makes him really clumsy, but he's come a long way in occupational and physical therapy, so we are thankful for that. I will forever remember (and love) his drunken little run. His speech is also affected by the low tone, but his speech pathologist also thinks it may be a bit of motor planning/lack of awareness and his high, narrow palate. At this point, there's nothing we can really do for any of those things except lots of therapy. He had his annual evaluation in speech a few weeks ago, and his therapist was blown away by how much he comprehended (they have a standardized test). So far, he is cognitively where he should be. We were so encouraged by that! I'm so grateful for Landon's therapists. They have worked so hard with him, pushed him, cared for him, loved him. I'm pretty sure I'd go nutty working with kids all day. But wait, I do. And I am nutty. Never mind.

Landon got a full cardio workup soon after we got the diagnosis, and everything was completely normal. I asked the cardiologist what the chances were for Landon to develop heart issues, and he said zero. Praise God for that! We also saw the neurosurgeon because of Landon's abnormalities that showed up on his brain MRI, but turns out they weren't so "abnormal." They are basically a normal variation, something that anyone could have - most of us just don't have brain scans. We also took Landon to the ENT to check for a submucous cleft palate and something called VPI (just google it if you're interested - I'll just confuse you more if I try to explain it). He has neither.

We met with a geneticist (via Skype - how cool is that!) from the University of Florida, and he was great. We asked him why Landon's case was so mild, and his answer: we just don't know. He said that's something they are still trying to figure out - why some people are so intensely affected, and others - you'd never really know. From what they understand, it seems that there is something protecting the genes from being completely altered and affected. But we know it's not just "something" - it was God. He could have let Landon have the full range of defects/disabilities, but He chose to preserve him. That was yet another gracious reminder of His goodness to us.

The geneticist told us some things we already knew from researching - things I almost wish I didn't know.  Most (read: 99%) of them have learning difficulties/disabilities when they begin school. Obviously, every person is going to be affected differently, but school tends to be hard and just gets harder the older they get and the more abstract the concepts. They can struggle socially. There are a lot of psychiatric issues that people affected with the 22q deletion can have - ranging from ADHD to depression and anxiety to schizophrenia. These are the things that scare me the most. I have absolutely no way of knowing how Landon will be affected, and yes, I know - that's probably better. But every day, I wonder if he will have good friends. Make it in a normal classroom. Be able to go to college. Have a job he loves. Live a normal life.

There are days I feel strong, hopeful, confident that Landon's future is bright. Those days, I believe that this little boy I love so desperately will move mountains with his sweet heart and joyful spirit. And there are days when I simply feel broken, hopeless, confused. It is those moments that I just want to be a soccer mom, caught up in mommy wars, my biggest concern what school he'll go to or if he has the right soccer uniform. I will admit I've had more of those days lately. It's hard watching Landon get older - as he gets closer to 3, the more obvious his speech issues become, and the further they set him apart from his peers.

And, in so many ways, I feel lonelier now than I've ever felt. Sure, I have a support group on Facebook for DiGeorge kids, and I can go Googling and find other moms with special needs kids, but mostly, I see these perfect children all around me, in my Facebook feed, in church nursery, running through the grocery store, saying cute, hilarious things. That is hard. Harder than I can express.

I would love to be able to believe that Landon won't struggle with school or social acceptance or psychological issues. I hope he'll be able to do something he loves, fulfill his dreams, have great friends. But that, of course, is not what truly matters. What I long for more than anything is that Landon will come to see His need for a Savior. I pray constantly that God will use our little Landon to make His name great; that his weaknesses will push him closer to God and make him love others in a big way.

Over the past several months, I have cried so many times to the Lord. "Why? Why me? Why us? Why our little Landon? Couldn't You have chosen someone else?" Of course, I know He could have. But the fact is - He didn't. And since I know He is working all things out for our good and the glory of His name, I have to believe He chose the best path for us. I read an excerpt from a sermon by Dr. Wilson Benton recently, and I would share all of it if I had the time to type it all up, but I must get sleep while my children sleep. ;)

"You are one person living at one place, at one point in time and even if God chose to explain to you how all of the pieces of his giant puzzle are fitting together in a manner consistent with his own righteous and holy and gracious nature, so that he may faithfully fulfill his promise in your life and work everything that happens to you for your good, you couldn't understand it. But you can believe that God is loving enough, and powerful enough, and wise enough, and gracious enough, and faithful enough to you to do what he says when he promises to work everything for your good.

What is the greatest tragedy this world has ever seen? What is the worst crime that has ever been committed? What is the most horrible thing that has ever happened in the history of mankind? Was it not the crucifixion of the only good, righteous, perfect man that ever lived? Of course. Did God bring anything good out of that evil event? What a foolish question for me to ask. Out of the worst thing that ever happened in the world, God brought the greatest triumph ever known in this world - your salvation and my salvation, the deliverance of all his people. Our holy, righteous God used that awful, evil, horrible, terrible thing, the crucifixion of his own Son, to bring forth the greatest good this world has ever known."

We would appreciate your prayers for our little guy in three areas:

- Progress in speech, particularly articulation.
- Increase in his attention span (apparently this is pretty common with DiGeorge kids)
- Ease of transitioning as we make several moves over the next year.

I still have no idea about this parenting thing. No, really. Randy and I laugh at ourselves all the time. "Remember that one time we said that would never happen...? Oops." I don't think that God gave me a special needs child because He knows I can handle it. I believe He gave Landon to me because He knows I can't. I am completely aware of my helplessness on so many levels. So here I am, making a miserable mess of this parenting thing, daily dependent on His sweet grace and tender mercies.

And isn't that the very best place to be?