Kindergarten

Tomorrow is Izzy's last day of Kindergarten.

*breathing deeply and wiping tears*

Where did this year go? My baby is about to turn 6 years old and as of tomorrow officially be a first grader or as Izzy told his friend the other day, "I'm gonna be in Oneth grade!"

It feels like I have only blinked a couple of times since the day I took a picture of him on the front porch after eating his K pancake and here we are, the year complete and what seems like 5 feet taller and so much more mature and responsible, I can hardly take it.

Let me tell you a bit about how much he has grown this year.

An easy judge is he started the year in a size 4/5 and ended in a 7/8 (leaning more to the 8) and size 3 shoe. Oh. My.

I can no longer spell words to keep conversations private.

He knows way more about Science than I do. He often tells me facts that I have to later google to make sure he is correct. He always is.

He wakes up at THE CRACK OF DAWN and if you need an exact time it is anywhere between 5:30-6:30. He wakes, dresses himself, then plays or reads quietly until he hears movement around the house (2 hours later!) and then makes his own breakfast while Mommy groggily applauds his responsible efforts.

He is a huge help around the house. He can sweep floors, take out trash, load the dishwasher, clean his room, carry full laundry baskets and help unload groceries! In fact, yesterday he vacuumed out my car and cleaned the interior for me! Of course, he is always rewarded for all of his hard work.

Neighborhood boys are now knocking on the door daily to play with Izzy and when I say daily, I really mean minutely. (yes, I know minutely isn't a word, but that is how frazzled the sound of the door bell makes me!) One ring boys!!

Last year at this time, I could cuddle Izzy up on my lap and read a book or snuggle in to watch a movie. I can no longer pick him up and if I cuddle him on my lap about 3 feet of legs are left dangling. When he slips on my flip flops to play, I'm sad to see he doesn't have that much to grow into them. My little boy isn't so little on the outside.

He loves to read street signs now, and especially loves to inform me when he feels I am going just a little bit over the speed limit and that I need to obey all of the rules. Of course I never speed, but to Izzy 40 is 40..not 41.

He can make friends in an instant which is a far cry from my shy little one at the beginning of the year. He may not remember their name at the end of the day, nevertheless, they are his new best friends.

His handwriting has improved greatly and I can now read and understand his stories. Reading his daily journal has become my favorite part of the day.

Even with all of this improvement and growth Izzy has decided he still doesn't want to grow up. My almost 6 year old doesn't want to turn 6. He doesn't want to move to the big kid class at church, he doesn't want to go to the First grade he just wants to stay little. OH how I wish I could let him!

When I put my Kindergartner to bed tonight, he started sobbing and said, "Why did I have to do such great hard work this year? I shouldn't have done such great jobs so Mrs. C could make me do Kindergarten all over again. I am going to miss her so bad! WHY do I have to be so smart?" I was so thankful for the laugh, because I really just wanted to join his sobbing party. My baby is growing up way too quickly and there is nothing either one of us can do about it. Starting tomorrow, we are going to take full advantage of every single day of summer. I have a feeling that spending summer days with Mommy won't last much longer and he will be answering those knocks at the door instead.

I may need a delivery of chocolate and kleenex tomorrow if you love me. *more tears*

It comes with the job description.

A couple of days ago, I started writing about my boys and their sweet brother relationship. We were having an exceptionally drippy sweet day and my boys were trying to make Mommy's heart explode of love overload. I only made it about half-way thru the post when I had to tend to my little Izzy. He was complaining of leg pain (stinking growing pains) and a bad tummy ache. He had no fever, but was doubled over in pain. I tried to do little things to help him relax, and he kept telling me he wasn't sick. The next morning, he went to school and said he felt much better. Hubby is in test mode, so he was going to be M.I.A for the weekend so I planned a weekend of fun with my boys. After school, I took Izzy to rent a couple of movies of his choice. Unfortunately for me, I only liked one of them. Tales of Despereaux, am I the only one who can't stay awake during this movie? But, Despicable Me saved the day. We were watching Despicable me and snuggling, when Asher burst into laughter. Izzy grumpily said, "Ashey, don't laugh you are going to make me throw up!" I quickly asked for kindness, but before my request was complete...it was too late. Izzy was at the toilet and lost his Papa bought happy meal. Sads. Wish it ended there, but we are in Day 2 of "Empty your guts, then take a nap" weekend. I can't count how many times it happened today, its all a blur. But, instead of eating dinner, I washed bedding off in the DRIVEWAY with a hose. Ghetto? Yes. Efficient? Double Yes.

Now, while I despise cleaning up after sickies (I could never be a nurse. Thank you Nurses!), I can do it because it is my kids and I love them immensely. Is there anything sweeter than a sick, snuggly kid? Ugh, my heart aches because I know how badly he feels and yet I am secretly loving how baby-like he is this weekend. What I super-duper appreciate is, the fact that he isn't a baby and can make it (mostly) to the bucket. Why you ask, was I hosing down bedding in the driveway then? Well, my poor boy is so sick he is throwing up in his sleep. That is sick, people.

He told me after his 3rd time getting sick in 2 hours this morning, "Mom, I am really sick, so I need you to do special stuff for me to feel better." I had no idea what these "special stuffs" were and when I questioned him, he was a tad annoyed. I got a sigh and a eye roll followed by, "Just ask Papa, he know just the right kind of special stuff I need." I get no credit. I have cared and cleaned and sprayed down bedding in the driveway, I have cloroxed until my hands cracked and I need to ask Papa because only HE can do special things? Well, I did. Papa came home with a Tom & Jerry movie and a Monster Truck bought just for the sickie. It worked, and Papa is the hero. Now, Izzy has been very sweet and appreciative and telling me he is so sorry for the mess and he loves me, but I wish I just knew that "special stuff."

So this weekend if you are looking for me, I am knee deep in sickie bedding and Pedialyte. I will have to finish my sweet brothers post another day. It's so sweet you might need some Pedialyte yourself. :)

Upside down

After Izzy's Parent/Teacher conference, I could see the areas that he really needed to practice and numbers was one of them. He can count pretty high for his age, but has a problem recognizing the numbers by sight. After just a couple of days of practice with a numbers puzzle, he know all of his numbers with confidence except 6 and 9. When it gets to these numbers, he takes a long pause and then just starts guessing. So I tried to think creatively and give him something to remember like 9 stands on its tail and 6 stands on its circle. Last night Marcus and I helped him with this again for about an hour and he is such a perfectionist, he wouldn't let us stop until he got it perfect. Finally, it was bedtime and I just had to make him let it go. I promised we would practice again tonight and he would eventually get them right. As I am tucking him in, he says, "Mommy, I don't like those upside down things." (After a few minutes of questioning, I realize he means #6 and 9) "I don't like them because they are too hard. We should just throw them in the trash anyway because I think they are broken. Then I would know all of my numbers!"

Oh if life was just that simple. If only we could just toss away the things that give us a little trouble!

We are going to keep up the hard work, and hopefully soon he can feel proud of himself for accomplishing a task that didn't naturally come easily to him. Until then, anyone have any tips so I don't find poor #6 and 9 in the trash can? =)

The Paper Warehouse Ban.

My Mom asked me to bring the boys in costume to her work Friday. The boys were dressed as Mario and Luigi and were the cutest things ever! As we were heading to Grandmas office, we had a mustache malfunction and since this is a crucial part of the ensemble, we had to make it right. I thought we would make a quick run into Paper Warehouse to get a new sticky mustache and we would be on our way. OH how I was wrong.

Izzy is sensitive and he is especially sensitive to things he thinks are "ugly". We are very careful about what we allow him to see and hear and if he feels a show is too "ugly" he will come have me change it. Izzy is his own monitor and I really appreciate that about him. He has noticed that a few houses were decorated with ghosts and scary pumpkins and he let me know that he didn't really appreciate those particular neighbors choice of decor. Obviously, I hadn't thought this shopping trip out, b/c if he was frightened by a carved pumpkin at Noon, a store 1/2 filled with spooky characters and scary masks was not the store for him.

However, I didn't realize my mistake, until after I asked for assistance so I could just grab the mustache and head out. I went down an aisle filled with wigs, makeup and didn't realize that the other side was masks. Suddenly, I hear a child with a shrill scream that would make you think they were being kidnapped....then I realized that it was MY child screaming at the opposite end of the aisle. He refused to take another step and was completely hysterical. I grabbed the mustache that was directly in front of me, but I was not quick enough. Israel had completely lost all control and was hyperventilating, screaming, and was in a complete state of panic. The store clerk, yelled down the aisle, "I am going to grab him and get him a balloon." I was behind her, but had to make up the length of the aisle between us and on my walk of shame back, I noticed all of the judgemental looks from mothers. (Why are we so mean to each other? That is another post.) As I am turning the corner, I hear my sweet, scared son say "YOU ARE A STRANGER AND I DO NOT WANT TO GET IN YOUR CARRRRRRRRRR!" Suddenly, this bad trip had turned into what he felt was a kidnapping situation. Could I traumatize my child anymore in 5 minutes? I finally get to the counter and hug him and apologize that he is scared and promise we are leaving right away when he says to the clerk, "Lady, I'm sorry, but I HATE your store. It is too ugly for me and I am never coming back here." She tried to change his mind, but he wasn't having it. Even 2 free balloons didn't do it. I quickly paid and put my boys in the car to head to Grandmas, all the while thinking, knowing Izzy, how did I not see that coming? I felt horrible for him and felt so guilty. I don't ever want my children to be scared and I think it is super important to keep your children innocent for as long as possible. Izzy and I had a long talk on the way to Grandmas and I told him that all of that stuff is fake and there is nothing to be scared of and he gave me a serious warning..."Mommy, this is your last chance. If you EVER take me to that scary store again, I will be so MAD at you!"

Paper Warehouse is officially banned from Fall shopping. Thank goodness, their birthdays are both in the summer.

Sing

The boys go to bed promptly at 7 every night. There is very rarely a struggle or delay, so tonight caught me by surprise. I walked by Izzy's room at 9 p.m. and heard him singing loudly "America the Beautiful." Not a song you normally hear a 4 year old sing on their down time. He was singing with such sweet conviction, I didn't want to interrupt him, but it is 9 and he does have school tomorrow. I enter his room and find him a little disturbed that I had interrupted him. After a short conversation, I ask why he is singing so late at night. He replied, " Because Mommy, it is my job. God sings to me and he likes when I sing back to him. That is what I have to do, I have to sing. It is my job." I couldn't really argue with that because it is the truth. I am sure there is nothing sweeter to Gods ears than to hear the innocent praise from a child's mouth.

I have noticed him saying this a lot lately. We pray each day on the way to school. He always prays first and it normally goes something like this: "Dear God, thank you for this day. Help my Mommy and Ashie, be good and not get into trouble. Help my friends and family and keep us safe and healthy. Help us all to be obedient and good friends. In Jesus name, Amen."
The past few days he has added this line, "Thank you God for singing to me when I sleep."
This thought alone gets me.

So when he let me know that singing was his job, I could do nothing more than agree with him and give him a giant hug and a kiss. Next time, I think I will let him sing a little while longer, and maybe hope to catch it on video. You never know what Gods plan is for that little one. Maybe Izzy knows something I don't.

School Pictures

Today is Izzy's first school picture day. Oh my word, I can't even explain how cute that kid looked as he left today. I probably kissed him 1,000 times as he practiced his smile so sweetly.

That kid gets me every day. I don't care what he does, how mad he has made me, he has these HUGE brown eyes that penetrate my heart. You can't be upset with Izzy for long, because he is simply made of sugar, he is so sweet and really one of the kindest children I have ever met.

One of the things I love the most about Izzy is that he sincerely gets so excited about the smallest event. What? We are going to Target! NO WAY!!!! Mommy you are going to help me clean my room! YOU ARE THE BEST! Literally, if you are willing to do something with him, no matter if it is pulling weeds or going to the biggest theme park in the world, his reaction is the same. He loves to do anything with someone he loves.

That is why I can hardly wait to tell him about his big surprise tonight. After school, I am picking him up for a special lunch, wherever he wants to go (like there is even another place that exists besides McDonalds). Then we are off to shop with the money that Grammy gave him just for being him. He will scour the aisles for the perfect toy and I promise will end up with something that was a great deal and will probably have money left over. By this time, Asher will hardly be able to hold his body upright, so it will be time to go home for a nap. After a wonderful snooze, we are going to load up and go to our friends birthday party. Twins who are cute as a button and my boys love them. Finally after all of this, I will be able to tell him that he is going to his favorite cousins house for a camp out in the backyard!!! Can you even think of an activity that could be more fun for a 4 year old boy? I am afraid I might have to bring the ear plugs for poor baby Asher. Izzy's loud squeals of excitement can't be good for little ears. I can hardly wait to hear it!

*Pic is Israel at 2 years old.*

Miracle #2

I promise, soon will come silly stories of my daily life as a mommy to two funny boys and a wife to a full-time Medical student. Oh yes, that story will come later too. How can you really appreciate all that is my miracle #2 without his story? So here it goes...

After I had Judah, I was told by Dr. M that we would have to wait a full year to give my body time to heal before trying for baby #2. I knew my heart would be ready any time, but I wanted to have a healthy baby, so I was willing to wait. God's timing is perfect, and 5 months later, I found out I was pregnant. Baby #2 was due September 7, 2005. Just a couple of months after Judah's first anniversary. Hubby and I were ecstatic and I won't lie..a little scared. It was difficult being pregnant again so quickly, and keeping your mind focused every day. Not letting fear overrun my thoughts was a job in itself. I was considered a high-risk patient and found myself practically living in my NEW Doctors office. Yes, I decided to go with another practice after I had Judah. I wanted a new experience and I found the perfect Doctor. Dr.J knew my history and my faith. She wouldn't ask me to do any extra tests, because she knew it didn't matter to me. 20 weeks finally came and that brings the sonogram we were all waiting for. Baby #2 was a healthy boy!!! You can imagine our emotions on that day.

Hubby and I decided his name would be Israel Ranen. We are all about meanings in this house and his name means: Promised/Joy. What could be more perfect? His pregnancy was not easy, I was very sick and in and out of the hospital. At the 6 month mark, I could barely eat and felt like the baby was going to come out of my throat. There was literally no room. One day after church, I was at my Pastors house eating when after one bite, I couldn't swallow it. I looked over at a friend and said "I think I am having this baby today. I don't even have room for one bite of food." Everyone laughed it off, but I couldn't possibly fathom how I could make it to September. That night, they started. The contractions...

Now, I had been having contractions for a while, but then they started coming so quickly I vomited. That is when the panic set in. I was only 31 weeks, I can't have a baby now. Hubby, calls Dr. J and my family and we rush to the hospital. Contractions are coming within 2 minutes of each other and I started to feel a little overwhelmed emotionally. This isn't how I planned it, I can't lose another baby. The staff started quickly taking control and I was put on Magnesium to stop the contractions...except they didn't really stop, but just slow down. Dr. J told me we had to get to the 32 week mark. Israels chances were much higher and just 3 days would mean a world of difference to his lung maturity. 3 days of Magnesium...not fun. Your mind is dull and time seems to stand still. Not to mention, your body is literally on fire. For 3 days, they were able to give the baby steroids to help his lungs and each day they encouraged me to hold on as long as I could. On July 13, 2005 (Yes, just 2 days before Judahs 1 year anniversary), Israel Ranen was born. 4.4 lbs, 17 inches long, and completely beautiful. I waited for the cry, I had so desperately wanted to hear from Judah...and then it came. A loud cry that made my heart leap for joy! They wrapped him quickly and gave me just a glance and a kiss and rushed him away to the NICU. Then it hit me....OH MY WORD, I just had 2 babies in one year! I am exhausted.

What came next you ask? An Arby's Roast Beef sandwich. It isn't a pretty detail, but it is truth. I hadn't eaten it what seemed like months and really 4 days. After eating the most delicious sandwich ever made, I got out of bed to the amazement of the nursing staff and walked my happy self over to see my brand new miracle! He was tiny, and I was in love. He was doing so well. He needed a little help with his breathing, but tested well. We visited the NICU often and friends and family came to meet our little early gift.

July 15th, came and I wasn't sure how I would handle that day emotionally. A new premature baby, an anniversary of my first son and my hormones...a lot to deal with. Literally minutes into the day at about 12:05 a.m., hubby and I were awaken by two specialists. Israel was not well and being rushed to another hospital by ambulance. My mind couldn't keep up with all of their medical explanations and realizing what day it was, made it all that much more difficult. Israel suffered a pneumothorax or a collapsed lung. Israel was the only baby in the NICU and they were giving him LOTS of attention, but mainly doing lots of tests and I guess male preemies tend to have a short temper...hold their breath when angry which can cause a pneumothorax. Instead of a quiet day, relishing in a new life, we were rushing around like mad trying to figure out what our son needed and desperate for him to be ok. I had to be released early from one hospital so that I could go with Israel to the higher level NICU. Hubby and I weren't able to stay at the new hospital, so we crashed with some super good friends for an entire month while our son worked on growing and healing. It was another blessing, staying with our friends. There was so much laughter and that was exactly what we needed. After losing one son, it is very difficult leaving another at a hospital without any control of the situation. I visited 3 times a day for 3 weeks. I held Israel on my chest for more than an hour each time and talked to him and fed him. Then one day, when we weren't expecting it, they said he could go home. He was 5 lbs and could sit in a car seat. He could swallow well enough to drink from a bottle without assistance and needed no oxygen. We took Israel home at the 35 week mark. God blessed us with 8 extra weeks with our little miracle and just when we needed it. I had a baby to hold and comfort me during a time I wasn't sure how I would cope otherwise.

Israel is now 4 years old and started Preschool last week. He is and has been completely healthy since they released him from the NICU. If you saw him now, you would never know he came into the world as such a tiny little guy. I might be biased because I am his Mommy, but his talents seem endless and I haven't met a soul so sweet. He is my Miracle #2 and he healed my heart.