Since its been so long I thought I'd offer up a bunch of pictures from different stages of our lives since last summer. So, here goes.
Lots of love, Amanda
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Three quarters of a year review.
Hi all,
Since its been so long I thought I'd offer up a bunch of pictures from different stages of our lives since last summer. So, here goes.
Lots of love, Amanda
Since its been so long I thought I'd offer up a bunch of pictures from different stages of our lives since last summer. So, here goes.
Lots of love, Amanda
Wednesday, July 20, 2011
California!
Hi!
It has been awhile, I know. I hope you haven't forgotten me (this blog, i mean).....
Leo has been busy! Travelling, for one. In late April we went to southern California for a Nudge family visit. Steve's parents were gracious in letting us take over their home. We went to the Wild Animal Park with William (Steve's oldest nephew). William was a fabulous companion for Leo- holding his hand, sharing his food (with Leo this is a non-negotiable), and just generally entertaining him. We went to the beach and Leo rolled around in the sand. As his mother, I was shocked! Growing up the sand was my least favorite part of the beach. We also hung out with Steve's childhood friend, Stephen Messner and his wife, Waen and their son, Kai who is just about the same age as Leo. Waen made us a super delicious Thai meal--red curried duck, yummy garlic and broccoli, a juicy chicken dish. On another day we went to the Graber Olive Company's packing facility in Ontario. If you have not had a Graber olive, you must! Go to the store--Whole Foods carries these. They are expensive, but totally worth it. The secret is they pick their manzanilla olives ripe and cure them in salt using equipment and methods from the late 1800's. Its trippy to see their operation and how old the equipment is. And, Oh! these olives are succulent- juicy and soft. FYI: Most manzanilla olives are picked unripe and gassed (with what exactly, I forget) to make black olives. Anyway, on to Leo. Here are some California pics. Also, next post will be a bit more current; although i do have to get in the post about our trip back to Mass.....
Love,
Amanda
Monday, May 23, 2011
Almost missed
Some shots from a few months ago. Fyi, I also just started a youtube channel: http://www.youtube.com/user/amandalaban
Theme is--can you guess? Leo. Two cute ones from 6-8 months old. His manner of talking has not changed. He has just developed a wider variety of facial expressions and has gotten a lot taller and skinnier.
Dress-up time for leo. French artist style.
Loving High Fives
Watering our new Sour Cherry Tree
Double-fisting Breakfast
Theme is--can you guess? Leo. Two cute ones from 6-8 months old. His manner of talking has not changed. He has just developed a wider variety of facial expressions and has gotten a lot taller and skinnier.
Thursday, April 14, 2011
Leo and Lucy
We are very lucky to have some really good friends here in Fort Collins. Leo's little buddy, Lucy, is a great companion. These two get along really well, especially considering they are toddlers and could potentially spend their time fighting over toys. Instead they spin around together in circles, dance, hold hands, hug and kiss, take turns riding and pushing each other on bikes and cars, sit side by side scribbling, and laugh hysterically. Lucy's parents have also been such a great addition to our lives. They babysit Leo so I can go to yoga, give Leo lots of snacks when we go over to play and feed us dinner too! We have spent many days together at the park and at each other's houses. I feel so grateful to have good friends in our new town. Below are some pictures taken in chronlogical order: the first one is from Oct 2010 and the last one is from mid March of this year.
Have a great day everyone!
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
First Day of School (aka Daycare)
Leo, before daycare
Leo went to daycare today. It was his first day in a group setting without mama or dada. Its crazy because I have left Leo before, for many hours (12 hours being the longest) but this was different. I was nervous. I was excited. I wanted to cry. Suffice it to say I think it was the best day of his life! When i picked him up at 3pm I found him in a small group of 1-2 year olds standing by the door ready to go out and play, pointing and saying "out there" over and over to the teacher. Not angry or sad just telling that teacher what was suppose to be happening. Now!
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Five weeks ago
I wanted to lie to you. Well, lie by omission, that is. I've been thinking about this post for weeks now. Ultimately though, I am a bad liar. I am sure that i would have accidently mentioned that Leo fractured his skull or written about other things in our life in such a disjointed way that the chronology would not match up. So yes, you read that right, Leo fractured his skull. Really Leo didn't do it at all; it was entirely not his fault (except for being lovable and small). A young boy wanted to pick Leo up and so he did. When this boy tripped Leo's head hit the wood floor first. I wasn't in the room. I did, however, hear the crash from where I was. It was loud, really loud. I actually thought a table or large chair had been knocked over by some wrestling--two rambunctious and strong boys ages 7 and 8 live in this house we were visiting.
When I entered the scene Leo was crying loudly. In fact, he wasn't even looking for me, he was just wailing in the arms of a young woman he didn't know. I should have known then that it wasn't a piece of furniture that hit so hard. But, really i couldn't conceive of that loud bang being my son's head. No way.
He stopped crying very soon after I got him in my arms. One guy mentioned that Leo wasn't faking it, that he hit his head hard. Everyone else in the room either didn't see it happen or didn't want to make it seem really bad. With their omissions I decided there was nothing more to do but comfort him and keep a closer eye on my baby.
So, I loaded Leo into the car; talking to him, checking in with him, making eye contact. He seemed a little dazed--but he had also only taken a half hour nap all day--and so we started driving. We stopped 10 minutes later for me to get a coffee. He walked around the coffee shop, acting pretty normal. Then we stopped at the dairy farm where we get our milk. He looked at the animals, talked to them, walked around. Everything seemed ok. But, when you are not looking for anything out of the ordinary, it can be hard to spot.
FYI-- at this point i should warn you that this is a long story. I rarely leave out a detail, so this story is no exception. If you don't want to keep reading, here is my short version:
It took me days to realize how bad this fall was. The following Thursday I felt a soft squishy bump on the right side of his head. Days later (after visits to the local ER, a plastic surgeon, his pediatrician and then the Children's Hospital) we confirmed how bad bad can be--a fracture to his skull. They say it will take 2-3 months to heal. He never showed signs of a concussion. He was cranky the days following the fall; he was downright traumatized when the plastic surgeon stuck a needle in his head; he has become leery of all doctors; he has maintained his frantical devotion to "cookies" and trucks, and otherwise has been happy as can be (between tantrums, that is).
Long version continued.....
He was hard to get to bed that night (not unusual for him) but then slept through the night (if i remember correctly). I mentioned to Steve the next morning that we should be careful to protect him from falling--literally just as his feet slipped from under him and down he went. At that moment I got mad, angry that I did not have control, could not protect my son better (he was falling all the time it seemed; he had only started walking autonomously a little more than a month before). But, I was not scared; I still had no idea his skull had a crack in it. We continued on as normal.
Leo's fall occurred on a Friday. By Sunday, I had basically forgotten about it.
Leo had a cranky week. On thursday afternoon I put Leo down for his nap and felt a large soft bump on the side of his head. WHOA. I wanted to feel the other side of his head, but he was asleep. When he woke I pointed it out to Steve. It was definitely just on one side of his head. I started to get scared. Was this from that fall almost a week ago? I called my friend Steph, a nurse practicioner. She referred me to another nurse friend who deals with kids' head trauma and works in the ER at Childrens Hospital in Denver. This woman convinced me to take Leo to the hospital that night.
To be honest Steve and I were still a little relunctant. Leo was acting normally and not even cranky anymore. But now we were scared. Leo was sleeping and it was 10pm. How do you wake your baby up in the middle of the night to bring him into a hospital with its bright lights, long waits, sick people, unforgiving metal objects, needles, etc? Steve mentioned they might have to sedate him to do a CT scan. Anesthesia and Radiation?!?! Leo wasn't even wincing when we pushed on the bump. It clearly was not giving him (acute) pain any longer.
But, of course, we went.
We checked in, sat down and then Leo found the large aquarium. All those fish. Oh, and a tv! And then all the space the waiting room had to run around. This was great. I guess we should have come sooner.
We were called in maybe fifteen minutes after arriving. (They don't mess around with babies and bumps on their heads, I guess).
We talked to the intake nurse, another nurse, and then a physicians assistant (PA). I told them all the same story. They all touched the bump. Leo did not make a peep when they touched it. The PA asked why we came in.
But then this PA offered some information. If we had come in the day it happened and there was a hard bump on his head they would have scanned him immediately. Since it was about a week later and Leo never vomited, convulsed, had ear or nose fluid drainage, acted strange, was lethargic; well then, Leo had been stable for a week. The fact that the bump was squishy and didn't bother Leo was strange he thought. A CT scan could tell us more. But its radiation. One treatment of radiation, he said, will not give you cancer. Over time, he continued, it builds up. Leo is so young. He mentioned his own kids then said let me talk with someone who knows more about this.
When he returned he said if you can get Leo to sleep we could do a CT scan. We'll give you a dark room and you can try to get him to sleep.
So we tried, and were unsuccessful. A nurse came in and said we should try the scan while Leo is awake. We took Leo into the radiation room and tried to place him down. At first he screamed but then he stopped. And in the most innocent way imaginable Leo tried to lay down and be still, eyes wide, but obeying his mama and dada. I wanted to die.
Leo needed to be still for 3-4 minutes for the scan to work. He was still for about 10 seconds. They sent us back to the dark room. Again we tried and after who knows how long he fell asleep. Two minutes later the PA opened the door and immediately Leo woke up. If I wasn't so tired I would have been fuming. However, the PA told us to go home. He called the bump a "liquified hematoma" and said he was giving us a referral for a Plastic surgeon, who could inspect it and decide what to do. As long as Leo's condition did not change we had nothing to worry about.
Fast forward to the following Monday. We meet with the plastic surgeon who says we can leave it alone or he can drain it of the blood. He says he would drain it. I let him. Then I want to die a second time. I am holding Leo as the plastic surgeon sticks a needle into Leo's head, not once but twice. It is pure torture and I start to believe Leo has lost all confidence in my ability to protect him.
That night I touched his now deflated bump. I feel a weird indentation- a ridge as the pediatrican later describes it. I totally lose it. Steve says he will call the pediatrician because I can't talk, only cry.
The next afternoon the pediatrician thoroughly examines Leo--for any and all signs of neurological damage. She questions me at length and then decides to call Children's and talk to an ER doc there. They offer that its strange and should be examined by CT.
And so Leo and I depart on the final leg of this journey.
We wait in a crowded waiting room. Since the pediatrician has called our scan in we don't have to wait as long as some. When we get into the CT room, the tech hands me a lead vest and a kids toy, some swirly light saber-ish thing. Next we basically straight jacket Leo down--lead vest around his chest, some bandage type thing across his forehead to hold his head down. Needless to say, Leo is very unhappy. The tech tells me to hold that toy in front of Leo's face without moving and not to turn it on until she says so.
The only consolation: I can sing to him and rub his foot. The scanning takes about 5 minutes. Leo stopped crying at about 4 minutes and 30 seconds.
By 8:30 that night the scan is done and we are heading home. Leo falls asleep within seconds of pulling away from the parking lot.
The next day I don't hear from anyone all morning so I start calling around. My pediatrician is the first one to tell me that Leo has a skull fracture.
A skull fracture. My baby has a crack in his soft developing skull. How is that really possible? But, I am almost unfazed at this point. It feels like all the bad that can be done to an 18 month old is done. We can now, finally, move on.
When I entered the scene Leo was crying loudly. In fact, he wasn't even looking for me, he was just wailing in the arms of a young woman he didn't know. I should have known then that it wasn't a piece of furniture that hit so hard. But, really i couldn't conceive of that loud bang being my son's head. No way.
He stopped crying very soon after I got him in my arms. One guy mentioned that Leo wasn't faking it, that he hit his head hard. Everyone else in the room either didn't see it happen or didn't want to make it seem really bad. With their omissions I decided there was nothing more to do but comfort him and keep a closer eye on my baby.
So, I loaded Leo into the car; talking to him, checking in with him, making eye contact. He seemed a little dazed--but he had also only taken a half hour nap all day--and so we started driving. We stopped 10 minutes later for me to get a coffee. He walked around the coffee shop, acting pretty normal. Then we stopped at the dairy farm where we get our milk. He looked at the animals, talked to them, walked around. Everything seemed ok. But, when you are not looking for anything out of the ordinary, it can be hard to spot.
FYI-- at this point i should warn you that this is a long story. I rarely leave out a detail, so this story is no exception. If you don't want to keep reading, here is my short version:
It took me days to realize how bad this fall was. The following Thursday I felt a soft squishy bump on the right side of his head. Days later (after visits to the local ER, a plastic surgeon, his pediatrician and then the Children's Hospital) we confirmed how bad bad can be--a fracture to his skull. They say it will take 2-3 months to heal. He never showed signs of a concussion. He was cranky the days following the fall; he was downright traumatized when the plastic surgeon stuck a needle in his head; he has become leery of all doctors; he has maintained his frantical devotion to "cookies" and trucks, and otherwise has been happy as can be (between tantrums, that is).
Long version continued.....
He was hard to get to bed that night (not unusual for him) but then slept through the night (if i remember correctly). I mentioned to Steve the next morning that we should be careful to protect him from falling--literally just as his feet slipped from under him and down he went. At that moment I got mad, angry that I did not have control, could not protect my son better (he was falling all the time it seemed; he had only started walking autonomously a little more than a month before). But, I was not scared; I still had no idea his skull had a crack in it. We continued on as normal.
Leo's fall occurred on a Friday. By Sunday, I had basically forgotten about it.
Leo had a cranky week. On thursday afternoon I put Leo down for his nap and felt a large soft bump on the side of his head. WHOA. I wanted to feel the other side of his head, but he was asleep. When he woke I pointed it out to Steve. It was definitely just on one side of his head. I started to get scared. Was this from that fall almost a week ago? I called my friend Steph, a nurse practicioner. She referred me to another nurse friend who deals with kids' head trauma and works in the ER at Childrens Hospital in Denver. This woman convinced me to take Leo to the hospital that night.
To be honest Steve and I were still a little relunctant. Leo was acting normally and not even cranky anymore. But now we were scared. Leo was sleeping and it was 10pm. How do you wake your baby up in the middle of the night to bring him into a hospital with its bright lights, long waits, sick people, unforgiving metal objects, needles, etc? Steve mentioned they might have to sedate him to do a CT scan. Anesthesia and Radiation?!?! Leo wasn't even wincing when we pushed on the bump. It clearly was not giving him (acute) pain any longer.
But, of course, we went.
We checked in, sat down and then Leo found the large aquarium. All those fish. Oh, and a tv! And then all the space the waiting room had to run around. This was great. I guess we should have come sooner.
We were called in maybe fifteen minutes after arriving. (They don't mess around with babies and bumps on their heads, I guess).
We talked to the intake nurse, another nurse, and then a physicians assistant (PA). I told them all the same story. They all touched the bump. Leo did not make a peep when they touched it. The PA asked why we came in.
But then this PA offered some information. If we had come in the day it happened and there was a hard bump on his head they would have scanned him immediately. Since it was about a week later and Leo never vomited, convulsed, had ear or nose fluid drainage, acted strange, was lethargic; well then, Leo had been stable for a week. The fact that the bump was squishy and didn't bother Leo was strange he thought. A CT scan could tell us more. But its radiation. One treatment of radiation, he said, will not give you cancer. Over time, he continued, it builds up. Leo is so young. He mentioned his own kids then said let me talk with someone who knows more about this.
When he returned he said if you can get Leo to sleep we could do a CT scan. We'll give you a dark room and you can try to get him to sleep.
So we tried, and were unsuccessful. A nurse came in and said we should try the scan while Leo is awake. We took Leo into the radiation room and tried to place him down. At first he screamed but then he stopped. And in the most innocent way imaginable Leo tried to lay down and be still, eyes wide, but obeying his mama and dada. I wanted to die.
Leo needed to be still for 3-4 minutes for the scan to work. He was still for about 10 seconds. They sent us back to the dark room. Again we tried and after who knows how long he fell asleep. Two minutes later the PA opened the door and immediately Leo woke up. If I wasn't so tired I would have been fuming. However, the PA told us to go home. He called the bump a "liquified hematoma" and said he was giving us a referral for a Plastic surgeon, who could inspect it and decide what to do. As long as Leo's condition did not change we had nothing to worry about.
Fast forward to the following Monday. We meet with the plastic surgeon who says we can leave it alone or he can drain it of the blood. He says he would drain it. I let him. Then I want to die a second time. I am holding Leo as the plastic surgeon sticks a needle into Leo's head, not once but twice. It is pure torture and I start to believe Leo has lost all confidence in my ability to protect him.
That night I touched his now deflated bump. I feel a weird indentation- a ridge as the pediatrican later describes it. I totally lose it. Steve says he will call the pediatrician because I can't talk, only cry.
The next afternoon the pediatrician thoroughly examines Leo--for any and all signs of neurological damage. She questions me at length and then decides to call Children's and talk to an ER doc there. They offer that its strange and should be examined by CT.
And so Leo and I depart on the final leg of this journey.
We wait in a crowded waiting room. Since the pediatrician has called our scan in we don't have to wait as long as some. When we get into the CT room, the tech hands me a lead vest and a kids toy, some swirly light saber-ish thing. Next we basically straight jacket Leo down--lead vest around his chest, some bandage type thing across his forehead to hold his head down. Needless to say, Leo is very unhappy. The tech tells me to hold that toy in front of Leo's face without moving and not to turn it on until she says so.
The only consolation: I can sing to him and rub his foot. The scanning takes about 5 minutes. Leo stopped crying at about 4 minutes and 30 seconds.
By 8:30 that night the scan is done and we are heading home. Leo falls asleep within seconds of pulling away from the parking lot.
The next day I don't hear from anyone all morning so I start calling around. My pediatrician is the first one to tell me that Leo has a skull fracture.
A skull fracture. My baby has a crack in his soft developing skull. How is that really possible? But, I am almost unfazed at this point. It feels like all the bad that can be done to an 18 month old is done. We can now, finally, move on.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Sewing 101
Since being home with Leo I have become inspired to be more creative. I started knitting again, and managed to finish a project (a christmas stocking that i completed a few weeks ago)-- at least it is ready for next year! And now I have been wondering what kind of clothes i might be able to make for Leo.So, last Wednesday I took a 2.5 hour sewing class. It was awesome. I was reacquainted with all things sewing machine- back stitiching, bobbin winding, presser foot. All of which i had forgotten since my mom taught me when i was a teenager. In fact, it made me realize what a great job my mom did teaching me because everything clicked. Then, it made me wonder what kind of student i was with her. Hmmm.
Here are two other pics from last week--In the first you can see where Steve ripped out the rest of the hallway and bedroom carpeting (more on this in another post) and that's my cute little napkin project from my sewing class....
See you soon!
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