Projects & Weekend Fun

It's officially summer, which in Redding lingo means it's HOT! Today was 110 degrees, and I know this is only the beginning. But this also means plenty of opportunities for fun family activities :-)
In honor of summer beginning, I stole an idea from my good friend (and fellow mommy) Tegan Knifton and created this list with my boys.

We sat down and I asked them to think of all the things they wanted to do (big or small) before summer ended. I have to admit, they came up with 30 pretty amazing ideas! From summer camping, to going on a family walk, to baking cookies for the neighbors, I was pretty impressed, and the boys were super excited. We have already been able to check a few things off the list (mini golfing, and eating watermelon by the pool with Nana and Papa)!

In keeping with the list theme, we decided to test out a new method of discipline in our home to help get some of the brother rivalry under control. We asked the boys to brainstorm as many positive and negative behaviors as we could and made a giant poster listing them all.

Each child has their own mason jar. When we notice positive behaviors we will ad "crystals" to their jars, and likewise when we notice negative behaviors we remove "crystals" from their jars. We went to the doller store and bought about $30 worth of toys (large and small). When their jars reach the halfway mark they can either pick a small toy out of the basket and empty their jars, or choose to save their "crystals" until their jars are full. At that point they can cash their whole jar in for one of the bigger toys. 

The "emeralds" are for every day good behaviors. The blue "crystals" are for when we notice them being especially loving and kind to one another. 

So far they seem pretty excited about it! I'll keep you all updated on how effective it is...

Overall we've had an amazing couple of weekends. Nolan's mom came for a visit, which the boys loved. Some friends from the bay area stayed with us for a few days. We spent some time by the pool, and we welcomed a new member to our family, Ridley Paul (my nephew). Couldn't ask for anything better!

Did I mention we bought a puppy? No? Meet McMissile. As in Finn McMissile, British intelligence (fellow moms and dads should know what I'm refrencing... lol). What can I say? The boys named him.

Pool time at Papa Thomas' house for fathers day.

Can she get any cuter? Seriously, we're in trouble...

We have a roller!

Lola and Grandmother (aren't lazy Saturdays in our PJs the best?!)

It's Here, it's Here!! I Can't Believe it's Here!!

Everyone has something they obsess over, right? That one hobby that gets them all fired up, a sport they love to play (or watch), travel, reading, the list could go on forever. My obsession? Furniture.

I know, it's a little weird. When I was in design school I was required to take two semesters of furniture history. These two classes covered the history of interiors from early Greek and Egyption days, to the post modern pieces more similar to what we see available today. Up until enrolling in these classes I had very specific tastes in furniture, which was pretty limited, and frankly looking back it was, well, bad. The world of bergeres and feuteuils was unknown to me. I had no concept of the fact that like good art or fashion, furniture went through it's own periods as well. I was clueless.

Those two semesters, which every other design student dreaded, became my favorites. I completely blame our instructor for lighting a fire under my butt, and igniting my passion for unique timeless pieces which I now obsessively hunt down and fill my home with.
Every time I utter the words "Guess what I found?!" I'm pretty sure Nolan curses her name.

About two years ago as I was graduating with my design degree, I was relentlessly scouring craigslist for Chinese Chippendale chairs for our dining room. Never in a thousand years would I have imagined I would be so in love with chairs that appeared on Golden Girls. As it turns out, I'm not the only one. Chinese Chippendale chairs have made a huge surge in the design world over the last five years, and are literally turning up everywhere. Finding one (let alone six) for an affordable price was going to be next to impossible. With a little help from some friends in Texas, and a one armed lady driving a horse trailer, I scored these babies for $100!!

That was four down, two to go. Imagine my surprise when a few weeks lafter I was walking to my car and passed by the window of one of our local Goodwill shops. There, in all their glory, were four Chinese Chippendale chairs. They were awful brown and had terrible 70s cushions stuck to them, but they were there! Because I couldn't convince the store to sell me two of the four, I ended up buying all four. Within a few weeks I was able to sell the two that I didn't want on craigslist for... well, let's just say it was enough to pay for the four chairs from Texas, shipping costs, and the cost of the four Goodwill chairs, with enough left over to take a pretty awesome anniversary trip to Ashland with the hubby. Like I said, they are popular chairs.

Fast forward a few years, and I have found something equally as exciting (to me) to obsess over. I have spent the last year trying to acquire a dresser from the Broyhill Brasilia line which was made in 1962. Thanks to the show Madmen, mid century furniture is fairly popular right now. The Brasilia line is essentially the holy grail of mid century furniture. Pieces are hard to come by, and when they turn up range anywhere from $700-1700 (depending in the piece and condition). For a year I have been roaming thrift stores and scouring craigslist nationwide, hoping to find someone who was clueless to what they had. Then, about a month ago, it happened. During one of my random craigslist scans I found a dresser and hutch from the Brasilia line, in Portland, for (drumroll please)... $80. 

After picking my jaw up off the ground and cleaning up the drool puddle on my table, I began frantically typing an email to the seller. My palms were sweaty, my heart was racing (told you I'm weirdly obsessed)... every time my phone chimed that it had a new email I think I had a small stroke. Eventually I was able to arrange for a cousin (who happens to live near Portland) to pick up the hutch for me and keep it in his garage until I was able to arrange for shipping. Monday night, my dresser and hutch finally came home to me. It's in definite need of some love. Someone (I will refrain from name calling) actually attempted painted the thing an awful grey/green color, which I will have to spend hours sanding away. But once this beauty is sanded and stained.... *sigh

Stay tuned! Somewhere down the line I will post my step by step process of restoring Brasilia to her rightful glory. 

Thank you (for those of you still reading), for humoring me. I forget sometimes that other people aren't as excited about these things as I am.

,

See what I mean, it needs some love. The handles have been pulled off (actually it's missing four of them) to sand the drawers, and the hutch is in our garage.

This is what it will look like once restored.

And this is the hutch (top) that came with it. Seriously, $80 for the whole thing?! I don't care how much sanding needs to be done!

Maddox is Three!

Last weekend we celebrated Maddox's third birthday with a BBQ at our new home. His actual birthday was a few weeks ago, but because of the madness of moving we planned to have his party a little late.

Of course Maddox insisted on a CARS themed birthday party. He was very specific in wanting Francesco plates and a Lightning McQueen piñata. Considering the time crunch, I think we managed to pull off a pretty sweet party! The best part was getting to see all of my family in one place (which doesn't happen often). We missed our bay area friends, but I know they were all there in spirit :-)

I of course forgot to take pictures of all of the food, etc. But I was able to get some of the decorations, and my wonderful mom took "action shots." Overall it was a hot, but wonderful day!

Poster board + coffee filters + spray paint = awesome almost 3 ft. tall #3

Sweet checkerd flag pendants

Is it possible to make it through a birthday party without being roped into buying massive themed balloons? Don't think so.

Dark chocolate salted caramel cupcakes with drifter cars on top, and Strawberry Lemonade cupcakes with checkered flags. Quite possibly some of the best cupcakes I've ever made! Yuuuuum 

Dollar Store balloons and table cloths = amazing over hang decor.

The pinata ended up being a bit of a bust, so it turned into and all out beat down.

A bit anticlimactic, but the kids didn't seem to mind.

Birthday boy playing with some of his new toys. Thank you everyone!!

Lola was happy to be snuggled all day long 

Cousin time!

Opening presents with his buddy Daniel

I've Decided I Don't Blog Enough

Just last night Maddox said something silly, and Nolan off handedly mentioned that I should write it in the family blog.
Blog? What blog?
Sure enough, once upon a time we came up with the "brilliant" idea to create "The Wilson Family Monster Farm," sure that we would fill it with funny anecdotes about the kids and our life in general.
It's been three months since our last anecdote, and it wasn't even funny. It was actually kinda sad.

I am hereby resolving to blog more. If not to keep family and friends up to date on our lives, then to at least have some record of the madness for ourselves.

In the last five weeks we have completed one elementary school renovation, one long distance move, celebrated our ninth (yes, NINTH) wedding anniversary, and most recently Maddox turning three (more on these later). All the while Jax gets closer to his first day of kindergarten, and Lola grows bigger and harrier every day. Time just doesn't wait for us...

Seriously. I know I'm bias and all... but is she or is she not the cutest little girl EVER?!

Hours of fun in Nana and Papa's kiddy pool :-) 

Introducing Lola Day Wilson!

 After the birth of each of our children I have written the story of how they came into the world. I do this for a lot of reasons, but mostly so that the memories will not fade for me, and so that each of them can read about their birth when they're grown. With that said, I give you little miss Lola's birth story:

Because my pregnancies are so high risk, I don't get the experience of guessing when I'll go into labor, or worrying about my water breaking in public. Our babies are scheduled months in advance and are born via c-section at 36 weeks gestation to avoid head trauma. We have frequent ultrasounds and non-stress tests throughout our pregnancies, so by the time the baby arrives he or she is no stranger. Because of this, Nolan and I decided not to find out the sex of our third baby, we wanted to hold on to one surprise, one little thing we could have some control over. This decision of course drove everyone around us completely crazy, which if I'm being honest, kind of added to the fun. Everywhere I went strangers informed me that I was having a boy based of course on some strange old wives tale. Neither Nolan or I could imagine anything else, and truly had no intuition either way.

The nature of NAIT (Neonatal Alloimmune Thrombocytopenia) is that it gets more severe with each pregnancy. Being my third pregnancy I was very closely monitored, and our treatment plan was very aggressive and proactive. I began IVIG (intravenus immune globulin) twice a week at 16 weeks pregnant, each infusion took approximately 6 hours. I saw my OB every two weeks from the start, had an ultrasound every four weeks, a non-stress test every week, and infusions twice a week. All of this equals to more time at the hospital than at home with my family.

At 32 weeks pregnant I was put on a very high daily dose of Prednisone (a steroid given to weaken my bodies immune defense against the baby). What was already an incredibly difficult pregnancy for me physically was kicked into high gear during that last month. My body began to reject all of the intervention, which ironically enough, just led to more intervention. The IVIG was causing me to be severely anaemic and my platelet levels to drop. The Prednisone was making my blood sugar go crazy, and despite my best efforts to control it with diet and exercise I was put on insulin. My morning routine involved a cup of coffee, a finger prick, 15 pills, and stabbing myself to inject my morning insulin dose. On weekends this drug cocktail was followed up with six hours of IVIG. I was literally just trying to hang on until the end, but it felt like at every turn my body was shutting down. I was physically feeling worse every day.

At 35 weeks pregnant my best friend flew in from Texas to have a fun filled week before my c-section. Unfortunately a few hours after picking her up from the airport my doctor called with my most recent blood test results. My red cells and platelets had dropped again, and he wanted me to check into labor and delivery for the night, with the possibility of delivering earlier than planned. Kuddos to Annie for rolling with the punches. The girl had just gotten off of a six hour flight, was adjusting to a two hour time change, and still came with me to the hospital and slept in an awful recliner next to my bed so that Nolan could stay at home with Jax and Maddox (who were both sick). What are best friends for, right?  I was eventually released, with the plan of sticking to our original delivery date. However, throughout the next few days my c-section date bounced around, moving up because my levels continued to drop, and then moving back to the original date because they couldn't get ahold of blood for me in time for an earlier surgery. Now not only were we concerned about the babie's health and wellbeing, but we were concerned about mine as well. Because my levels were so low, there was a real possibility that I may need a blood transfusion after surgery. Stressful does not even begin to describe that last week. In fact I don't even know how to articulate how I was feeling in those last days, aside from slightly crazy, and incredibly focused.

Thursday (our originally scheduled c-section day) finally rolled around, and Nolan and I said our goodbyes to the boys and took off for the hospital. I was prepped for surgery, and before I knew it we were in the operating room, I was numbed, and the curtain was up. This surgery was so much more stressful than my c-section with Maddox. My doctor was tense, the NICU team was standing in the corner ready to rush the baby to the nursery, Nolan was nervous, and I was struggling to stay in control and focused with an ice chest marked "human blood" sitting next to me. Its a surreal feeling to be sitting next to blood bags that are marked for you in case things should go poorly.

After what seemed like an eternity the nurse was instructing Nolan to stand up and look over the curtain, our baby was being born. I watched him stand, smile as everyone commented on how much hair the baby had, and then suddenly look completely shocked and confused.
 "It's a GIRL?!" He yelled, like it was a question rather than an announcement. To which I essentially began to hyperventilate.

 They brought Lola to us, and I was able to hold her and kiss her before they took her to the NICU. Nolan followed, and I stayed to be sewn up. As my doctor was finishing putting me back together, he told me that he had never seen anything like Lola's birth. My uterus was apparently so paper thin where the incision from my previous c-section was, that he could actually see Lola looking up at him before he cut. Not only had my body been rejecting all treatments, but I was also within weeks of rupturing my uterus.

Within a few hours we had results from Lola's first CBC. Her platelet count was 147k upon birth, just 3k below the range of normal. This was so much better than anyone anticipated, including our doctor. 47k would have been what we expected, but 147k was purely a miracle. For a disorder that gets worse with each pregnancy, ours got better, it defied logic. In fact, after one round of IVIG Lola was doing so well that we were all released a full day early.

Now, two weeks later, we are all completely smitten with little Lola. She has everyone wrapped around her tiny finger, including her big brothers. She does indeed have a crazy head of black hair, and was born with frosted tips and distinct highlights. It's as though she spent time at the salon before she was born, rather than balled up in my thinning uterus. We feel so blessed and relieved to be out the other side of this ordeal, and to have our beautiful baby girl. Our family truly feels complete, in ways I didn't think it could. I wonder every day what we did to deserve to be so blessed, and still can't come up with an answer. We are the parents of three strong, beautiful, loving kiddos who had to fight harder than any baby should to be born healthy.

After the craziness and stress of the last eight months, we're ready to start living again, and being free to enjoy our little miracles.

Last picture as a family of four. HHeadedto the hospital!

My best friend Annie and I. I do believe my belly is trying to eat her alive.

"I can't believe it's a girl!"

Lola Receiving IVIG in the NICU

Me, looking a bit like a man, but so in love with my daughter!

First bath! Gotta love the look on her face!

Jax holding his sister for the first time. Believe it or not, he adores her!

Not that you can tell by this picture, but Maddox is completely in love too.

The Power of a Prego - and a Terrible Dose of Reality

My friend Tegan, who just so happens to be an AMAZING party planner, offered to throw a baby shower/brunch for me next weekend. I am so excited I can hardly stand it! I am so happy and lucky to have met such an awesome friend and developed such a cool relationship with her over the last few years. It doesn't hurt that our husbands grew up together either :-)

We decided to hold the brunch at Casa de Wilson, which means that my crazy pregnant self has spent the last month in full blown DIY mode. I finally finished reupholstering my hidious old Craigslist armchair. I painted the boys' bunk bed, not to mention the walls in their bedroom, and four new bookshelves. I finally got their toys under control with a new modular shelf turned on it's side (for the final touch I even upholstered a cushion for the top to make a bench). I pestered Nolan until he gave in and built my pallet bookshelves for our bedroom. It's been a busy few weeks... I was feeling like a pregnant Wonder Woman, until yesterday. It hit me. I feel like I can barely stand up now! I went shopping last night without the kiddos, and felt the need to get a shopping cart just for the sheer ability to lean on it while I walked waddled. I think I need a Rascal Scooter. I wish someone would inform my body that all of this hip spreading isn't necessary. I'm having a c-section for crying out loud, nothing is going to be passing through those things! Anyway, although I limped through three stores trying to find something as simple as wooden numbers (to finish up another DIY project) without success, I was rewarded with these beauties:

I have to remember I have nothing to complain about. In the grand scheme of things I really don't, and that's easy to forget sometimes. This week I was given a heartbreaking reminder of just how bad things could be. I am part of a worldwide support group for NAIT effected families. This group was started several years ago by one desperate and determined mama, searching for answers, and for anyone (just one person) out there who was suffering through what she was trying to navigate. Stephanie's son had been born to term with a bilateral brain hemmorahge (which means his brain bled in both hemospheres) due to a rare disorder, then almost completely unheard of... NAIT. Her first baby, after a normal pregnancy, was not expected to live. Chris is now 12 (or 13 now?) years old, and inspires us all every single day. The support group that Stephanie began so many years ago, now has hundreds and hundreds of members world wide. We are sisters bonded by something terrible and devistating, and we lean on each other every day in ways outsiders can't really understand (hard as they may try). We fight for awareness, for research, and for prenatal screening. We have accomplished more in the last few years than we really hoped possible. This is why when a tragedy effects one of us (the way it has this week), we all feel it. We all cry. We all pray. We all want to run to the side of the mama who is suffering and just be there for her.

This week a fellow NAIT mamma lost her baby at 20 weeks gestation. This was her fourth child, and her second NAIT effected pregnancy. She was receiving treatment just as I do every week. This mama had to labor and deliver her baby girl, knowing full well that she wasn't alive. NAIT had stollen her. The treatments had not worked. It is a fear that we all share, and yet we can't help her. Not really. As NAIT mamas we put all of our faith into a treatment plan that is ever changing, under researched,  and flat out isn't a cure. What choice do we have but to trust it? The truth is it only works about 70% of the time. By "works" I only mean that your baby has made it out unscathed, not that his/her platelet level is normal. There is still NICU time for most, involving platelet transfusions and/or IVIG. 

My point is, it could be so much worse. As I sit through my 31st infusion, butt numb and bored out of my mind, I am thankful that my baby and I have made it this far. These last four weeks cannot pass fast enough. They are the riskiest, and therefore the most nerve wracking. I am now on a course of Prednisone (steroids) that will take me through my final month, and will be one more barrier between my killer immune system and the defensless baby It's fighting.

I pray for my fellow NAIT mama, that she and her family would feel a peace and comfort that suprasses all understanding. My heart aches for her as she suffers through something we all hold our breathes and hope against. This is the reality of NAIT.

"Just another manic..." Wednesday?

Life with two kiddos is crazy, and I'm beginning to have minor anxiety attacks thinking about what a third will do to our delicate balance. Turns out in six weeks I will find out! We finally have a delivery date for baby #3- he or she will join us on February 28th, just six days before Jax's fifth birthday.
Yup, fifth. As in five years old. As in I just filled out his kindergarten registration forms. I'm sorry, what the what?! When did this happen??? I'm just not sure I'm alright with this.
On the other hand this means that he'll be at school all day, Maddox will start preschool as soon as he gets off of his lazy butt and potty trains, and then it will be just me and baby #3 for most of the day. Hmmm...
I digress. For now we're playing the waiting game. Well, Nolan is waiting, I'm running around like a crazy pregnant chicken with it's head cut off. Nesting? Not exactly. More like reupholstering and arm chair, painting rooms, building furniture and cornices. This is how an interior designer nests. Have I washed any clothes? Nope. Built the crib? No way. Bought a car seat? Negative. But don't worry, the important things will be done, I will have a freshly recovered armchair.
In the meantime, I have twelve infusions left (yay!), six non-stress tests, one ultrasound, two glucose tests, and four weeks of Prednison to consume. One meeting with neonatology and the bigwigs, a hospital tour, and a hospital bag to stock. Oh, and somewhere in there I'll need to donate my own platelets for the baby, in case he/she needs a transfusion (which is a good possibity) after birth. This is the most risky part of the pregnancy because there is less room for the baby (and more opportunity for "trauma") my body is amping up it's attack on the little one (diminishing it's platelets at a faster rate). So, bottom line, we hold our breath, hope my infusions are doing their job, and wait. Baby will be 36 weeks and four days old when it's born.