Paris' birthing story

I'm doing the birth stories of the kids this year for their birthdays, so here is Paris'.

Paris' birth started out innocuous enough. We had moved to Torrence, CA just outside of LA exactly 9 months earlier. Back then, in September, we were excited and scared. We had just moved into a tiny courtyard apartment, white and blue, all the units surrounding a lovely blue pool that almost none of the tenants ever used. We were sure one tenant was a 'lady for hire' and it was sad, since her 5 year old daughter played on the steps while she entertained her guests. Another tenet had a big van that was full of odds and ends that they would repeatedly and surreptitiously pack and unpack Friday before the flea market on Saturday.

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I found out I was pregnant while Brian was overseas for close to a month. He left for Malaysia after we had been in Torrence for a whole 3 weeks. Being directionally challenged, I was terrified of leaving the apartment, mainly because I wasn't sure I could find my way back home. We were almost out of food before I realized our apartment was within walking distance of a mall, a grocery store, and a park.

Although we talked frequently, I decided to break the news to Brian after he came home. When he came home he brought me beautiful Malaysian dresses and skirts. I think he was surprised when I was less than enthusiastic--I knew I wouldn't be able to fit into them for long. We took a walk that night--I loved Torrence because we walked everywhere--and he told me he had some good news. So do I, I said. I got a promotion! he said. So did I! I said. He looked at me, wondering if I was mocking him. I just got promoted from a mother of 2 to a mother of 3!

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Finding an OB was a pain. I'd already had such a great dr. in AZ I knew I wouldn't be able to find one here that I liked as well, so I picked the first name on my insurance list that was close by. He turned out to be from the Middle East and most of the women in the waiting room wore hijabs. It didn't bother me much--I tend not to care about much when I'm pregnant aside from when my next nap or meal will be.

The dr. was a short, tan man, with a graying beard and dark glasses. Brian waited outside with Athena and Tritan. It was a small room, with older furnishings and a free-standing metal sink of milky liquid that had utensils in it. I'm not sure what it was, or what was in there, but as soon as I saw that I knew I should have just left. But I stayed, got undressed, and endured his (too through) examination. When he checked my breasts for lumps and then laid his head on my chest to check my heart, I knew this was NOT the dr. for me. I dressed and left as quickly as I could.

My next dr. was a soft-spoken Latino. He was better. He was fine. This was my 3rd baby in 3 years and I was trying hard to eat ice instead of sand, so a modern office with a stethoscope was good enough for me. But he wouldn't induce me. Let's see how things go naturally, he always said when I asked. Which would have been fine when it was my first and I WANTED to go naturally. But now that I had 2 babies induced I could see the wisdom of it all. I could schedule someone to take care of the other 2 kids. I would know what was going to happen. I could get pain meds. All good things.

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I started labor on the 16th. For half of Snow Falling on Cedars, I had regular contractions. But after the movie ended, I took a shower and the contractions stopped. The next night I woke up with contractions. They didn't hurt hardly at all. In fact, I almost welcomed them. At last, we would get our baby. I took my time taking a shower and then waking up Brian--I didn't want to go to the hospital unless this was really the real thing--especially since it was the middle of the night and we had to call my friend Diane to watch our kids.

By the time we dropped off the kids and drove to the hospital, the contractions were pretty much a minute or so apart. But aside from finding potholes extremely annoying and accusing Brian of trying to find every one of them, they still didn't hurt that bad. I was surprised when the nurse checked me and declared it too late for drugs--in fact, it was too late for paperwork, too. She whisked us from the check-in room to the labor and delivery room pretty fast.

A half hour later, the dr. made it to break my water, and still my contractions were just annoying. I thought this natural birth was going to be a piece of cake. Only I hadn't counted on how to get the baby OUT. Once it was time to push, I hadn't accounted for how big a baby actually is--and how much it burns. Oh it burns. And it hurts, big time. I yelled and probably swore. The nurse told me to calm down. Which made me want to go all WWF on her, maybe hit her with the iv pole or something. And poor Brian, who sat through 2 relatively pleasant epidural births, didn't know what to do. He tried to soothe me too, blowing on my face to remind me to breathe or something. Do you know how annoying someone breathing on you is? Especially in excruciating pain? So I hit him. I did. A full on slap as hard as I could. (When he suggested a day later maybe I should take some anger management classes, I told him to get out of my room.) And when he finally came out--"It's a boy!" (we hadn't found out the sex before)--I thought of course he is, I knew it all along (only boys could make me crave dirt and sand, right?). I was exhausted, and my body went into shock. I was shaking so much I couldn't even hold him very long.

My recovery room was a shared room, and though they offered to keep baby boy Wortham in the nursery I insisted he be by my side. Between sharing the room, the construction going on in the hospital, and all those cheery nurses that kept waking me up to feel my stomach I was so anxious to go home. But we had to name him before we left, it was part of the paperwork. Brian wanted Olin (a Greek poet's name), and though I was pretty out of it I knew that was NOT his name. Can you imagine Paris being an Ollie or Lenny? I was adamant that his name was Paris--he could go by Perry if he hated Paris, right? Maybe Brian was afraid I'd hit him again, but he gave in and I can't imagine him with any other name.

Paris turns 10

Admist all the end-of -the year activities and despite his poison ivy, Paris turned 10 on June 18. It was also conviently the release date for Toy Story 3, so that's what we did. We all loved it. I can't believe they keep making them better! I think we all cried at the end, too. Then we went to Chili's for lunch and they couldn't manage to pull together anybody to sing to him or bring him any dessert, so that's the last time I'll go there for a birthday! I was feeling guilty already that his birthday was so anticlimatic. I had orginally mentioned that we'd skip school on Friday to go to the movie, but after he missed so much school for poison ivy and the steroids were finally kicking in, I was worried he'd missed too many days already.

So then we went home and opened presents--a toy story lego set and a bean bag chair. A bean bag chair may not seem like a very good birthday present, but that's what Paris really wanted. He's already picked out a mattress for Christmas.

He's still shirtless because it is the day after he stopped taking steroids and just before we went in to eat, he lifted his shirt to tell me he was still itchy, and I could see red welts starting to rise again from the poison ivy. I was beginning to wonder if it would ever go away, but by Tuesday he had stopped asking for Benedryl and now the you can hardly see the rash at all. Of course, if you come to our house any day of the week, Paris will probably be shirtless. If he could go around in underwear all day, he would.

School's out!

I'm not sure who is more happy--me or the kids. Thurs. we slept in and did nothing for one whole glorious day. There is a virtual avalanche of events at the end of the year--field trips and recitals and end of the year ceremonies and parties. Unfortunately, between actually going to these events and Paris' poison ivy (itch free for 4 days and counting--woo hoo) I haven't documented them very well:

This is Athena's 5th grade field trip. Instead of doing a graduation ceremony, they go to a day camp facility and get to play tennis, fish, canoe, and go through rope obstacle courses. They provide pizza and ice cream and although it was a hot day, the kids really had fun. Athena caught the most fish of everyone--7!! She used a combination of worms and bread, in case you want to try it...

Field Day was another hot day, but that didn't stop the kids from playing hard. This is a picture of Paris (silver shorts) overcoming his opponent in a foot race.

Apollo in a potato sack race. BTW--they used Idaho potato sacks...

Bucket relays

Athena had 2 different dance recitals in the same weekend. Saturday was her ballet recital--her costume was ephemeral, so gorgeous. And her jazz was Sunday. It made for a hectic weekend. I think we will just go with one studio next year. She did wonderful in both her dances--

This is a picture of her and her friends just before their talent show at school. They choreographed it themselves and worked on it since Jan. At the end, I think they were more concerned about buying the perfect outfit and even coordinating fingernail polish than about the dance itself. But I have to say, for a couple of 5th graders, they did really well.

Kindergarten graduation: The shirts were so cute. Each hand print is by one of the kids in the class, so they can remember each other. Which is especially poignant since this is a MDK (multiple disabilities kindergarten) and some kids are staying in kindergarten, some are going onto 1st grade at that school, and others are going to MD-1st grade at another school (which is what Apollo is doing). Most of the kids were in the MD-preschool so we have sort of become a little family--all the kids and parents getting together for birthday parties, school events, etc. and comparing stories and asking each other questions. Ah, well, I guess we all have to move on. I brought water balloons and a limbo stick, which turned into mass chaos, but hey, that's what graduation parties are, right?

Anyhow, they are done for awhile, though Apollo is going to go to summer school. (I've told him, but I don't think it's sunk in yet.) It will start the week after the 4th. I am looking forward to swimming, and barbecues and family reunions and going on a few "spontaneous" trips.

Poison Ivy

This is what Paris has been up to: itching.

2 weeks ago, we went on a ward fishing trip. Paris climbed a tree to detangle a fishing line and ended up getting poison ivy. And it attacked with a vengeance. It's been over his stomach, legs, and arms and itched so much that he literally did not sleep for 3 nights. He told me at one point that he thought he "forgot how to sleep." Thank goodness there has been absolutely nothing going on in school, since he had to miss most of those days.

We tried baking soda, hydrocortisone, gold bond, essential oils, oatmeal, benedryl, and even vinegar. Nothing seemed to work for very long. Finally I insisted the dr. see him (they normally don't see poison ivy unless it's a small child or it's on their face) and he got a prescription for a steroid. That seemed to work--for a while. At least, it worked so he had an itch-free day for his birthday on Friday, but by Saturday it was back. We'll go back to the dr. tomorrow--but in the meantime we distract him during the day, rub on hydrocortisone and feed him benedryl, and give him an oatmeal bath before night. We also let him run around without any clothes--because we're liberal like that.

I am just grateful that it is poison ivy, that it will eventually go away (right?), and that he is really a brave, patient child (who knew). In the throes of it all, he patiently bore the pain and itching, and said things like, "Thanks Mom for all you're doing for me" and "I think I know why God gave this to me, so that I can understand the plan of Happiness. That he gave me a family that takes care of me." Which is what I needed to hear after some sleepless nights myself. I could tell he was feeling better when he wondered why I wasn't making him lunch yet....

And I am also grateful for our ward family that brought us essential oils and gave him blessings and called to see how he was doing. Brian was out of town for most of this and it was nice to know our home teacher and friends could step in for him.

This was seriously one of the worst maladies we've had--more disruptive and perplexing than all of the broken bones, surgeries, and illnesses we've had to date. So here is some advice...Leaves of three--LEAVE THEM BE...

Memorial Day

After spending Spring Break spring cleaning I was jonesing for a vacay.

Brian took off the Friday before Memorial Day to spend with moi--shopping and going to lunch. (I think my craving for seared scallops has turned into a visceral need).
But no dice.

My plants that I ordered May 1 finally arrived on Thurs. So while delighted they were finally here, we spent the whole of Friday planting. Some of them still look pretty sad, and a few are definitely dying, but on the whole I'm hopeful that by this fall, my front flowerbed will look like a flowerbed, instead of dirt with random smudges that are supposed to be flowers.
Sat. was spent at Costco and the grocery store although we did leave the kids behind and treated ourselves to Costco hot dogs (still, nowhere close to being scallops).

Still, Friday night the whole family went out for Chinese and then we stopped in at Barnes and Nobles. Everyone got a book to kick start summer (although school limps along for another 23 days). Brian urged me to pick something, but I feel too overwhelmed at a bookstore--too many titles, all so delicious, where to start?? Besides, he picked The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and Tritan picked a The House of the Scorpion--so there's two books I can't wait to read. Athena picked a book about stenciling--because she would rather learn how to do something than sit and read about other people doing things. And we coerced Apollo into buying a Ready to Read book. What I am really chomping at the bit to read, though, is Paris' pick: Rick Riordan's new book The Red Pyramid. Listen to the first line: "We only have a few hours, so listen carefully." Brilliant.

Luckily, my sister Alyssa decided at the last minute to come up from Richmond and visit her friend Missy and stay with us for a couple of days. Missy dropped Alyssa off on Sunday and stayed for one of Brian's BBQs. Then on Monday, we went to Grounds for Sculpture, which I've wanted to see, and Alyssa was the perfect beard.






Thanks for coming Alyssa! We had so much fun. Vacation itch scratched. Still on the prowl for those scallops....