Toddlerhood

Since my children are so close in age I always knew that we would never be in the clear. I always knew that they would eventually team up against us. I did not know that my youngest would surpass my oldest in devious, cunning, skillful ways of toddlering.

Sis is not far behind her big brother. Anything he can do, she can do, and she will. She is determined and skillful. We've always said my son is smart, he's very intelligent. He knows everything, you can always see the wheels turning, he is constantly learning. Sis, however, is much more laid back and chill. She isn't always willing to show off her skills and expertise. She is, however, very sassy and opinionated for a 15 month old baby. She may not be willing to show off her knowledge of colors or new words on demand, like her brother, but she is almost too quietly smart for her own good. As in, she knows things, doesn't show us that she knows things, but suddenly we see that she knows things because she has done something incredibly crafty for a young toddler.

Don't get me wrong, she isn't so crazy that we are concerned for her (or our) safety. She is just enough silly and smart for me to be concerned to leave her alone for too long. I turned the shower on in the bathroom, walked to my bedroom to get pajamas, returned to the bathroom to find my 1 year old in my tub, water running, fully clothed, shoes on, standing there looking at me like... "what?!" So now I am concerned that she is going to be too quick to the water running, learning how to flush things down the toilet, splashing around in the sink, or whatever the case may be... nothing is safe from being soaked! These concerns have never crossed my mind with my son. How can TWO children from the same parents be so incredibly different????

Home for Christmas...

June 20 my Uncle dove into his swimming pool, as he had many times over the years, but something happened this time. This time he didn't come up for air, he didn't grin (his "shit eating" grin) and splash around like he always had. This time his 14 year old daughter had to roll him over to see he was not breathing. This time his 12 year old son had to jump their privacy fence, to get to a neighbor (a Godsent neighbor), a man who was part of the local fire department, to come over to perform CPR. His wife was shocked, scared, and the neighbor insisted she get out of there, go inside and be with the kids, because he didn't want her to see the man she loved blue, from the chest up, unconscious and broken.

My Grandpa called my mom, told her there was an accident and he would let her know more, but for now he had been airlifted to a hospital in Memphis. He called back frantic, calling my phone (because, as usual, my mom didn't have her cell phone) and he needed to tell my Mom to get to Memphis, because the Drs believed my Uncle was brain dead. His wife was visualizing a situation where she would have to be the one to make the decision to pull the plug. How is that possible, the man she loved, the father of her children, in her own words, her "whole world" may not wake up and she was going to have to be the one to make any type of decision?!

People from all over the world, friends of my Uncle, friends of my family, my friends from every part of my life, everyone joined in prayer. I never gave up on this man, because my Uncle is one of a kind. There is no one in this world like him. He's determined (nice way of saying stubborn). He's his own ass-kicker. He is a motivational man, always the one family members turn to when they need their spirits lifted. He's a goof, a flirt, a crazy, silly, wonderful guy who will never be counted out in any situation. However, we were not given much hope.

Suddenly there were tiny steps, tiny little moments that restored our hope and our faith in his recovery. He was breathing, he had a halo (as my mom would say "that's the only way you're gonna get a halo"), and was healing, he was maybe hearing his visitors, maybe talking back to them when they would tell him they were leaving.

He woke up, but again the Drs & nurses were all very hesitant to give us much hope. Not many patients can come back from these moments. Not fully or completely. They told us he may never walk again on his own. They told us to prepare to have the house made over, for wheelchair entrances, a hospital bed for him to sleep on, update the bathroom to help him shower/bathe. His physical therapist stopped in his room one day, when my mom was in there, and asked her about my uncle's lifestyle. She told the therapist my Uncle was a lifetime athlete. Played football his whole life, never turned down a challenge and still thought of himself as young, always trying to keep up with his kids-- his very athletic kids! The therapist said "oh good! So he would want us to push him, he'd want us to make him work?" and my mom laughed and said yes. Yes, that is exactly what he would want, someone to challenge him every single day!
Everyone was trying to determine the BEST way to get my Uncle back, and his wife, his friends, his family were looking into every treatment center, every option they had. Then he was qualified for a rehab facility, in Atlanta, that was one of the best in the nation for his type of injury. The person that came to Memphis to see if he was a candidate for the facility said she thought he was going to walk out of the rehab center by Christmas. We know he is his own ass-kicker and challenges are always accepted and usually met with what appears like ease... and determination. We know if anyone can do it that it'd be my Uncle, but was she right? Would he walk out, on his own, by Christmas? He started physical, occupational, and speech therapy. He started trying to communicate much more clearly. Eventually we were even able to get him to eat "real" food, although someone had to feed him. He had moments that were clearer than others, and moments that remained quite foggy, but he was awake. The rehab facility took him to try new things all over again. Going outside, eating pizza, even a Mt Dew. He was given the opportunity to feel a little bit normal, but with each new introduction it really confused his brain. He would enjoy these things, but it would exhaust him. Things were getting better physically and he was able to do normal things, but mentally, this was still very challenging.

Moving to this rehab facility meant that either his wife would have to be away from him, in order to stay with the kids, or it meant they both would have to be away from the kids. Many people stepped up, his brother spent the majority of the time with him in Atlanta at first, and when he couldn't be there then his wife, my grandpa, would go, and my mom took a week away from work to spend with him in Atlanta. In order to get his trach removed from his neck my mother spent multiple overnights with him to ensure he didn't pull off his night-time breathing machine, the last obstacle to getting the trach removed, forever! Not to mention, my Uncle's mother-in-law, who has basically moved into their house just to be there and do everything possible for the kids! So many people doing the unknown, little & big, things that we can not imagine getting through this time without their help! Everyone stepped up because as much as the recovery would fall on my Uncle's own lap, it was going to take a village to ensure all the moving parts moved together to help him recover.

His physical recovery has been amazing, truly amazing! But his brain's recovery was never so quick. A struggle for him, truly frustrating, as well as a struggle for his family. Seven blurry years just weren't adjusting or focusing, and we didn't know if we'd ever get him back, totally and completely. When my mother visited him she would try to tell him about my children. He used to make comments like how being a grandma was my mom's calling, so we know he once knew about my babies, but now, when she would show him pictures-- or when we would FaceTime-- you could tell he maybe struggled to remember or would just nod along to make us think he knew, but he didn't know them. This isn't shocking, he had a terrible brain injury and the fogginess was obviously going to be a task we had to overcome. How much he remembered depended on the day of the week, the type of therapy he had that day, how much sleep he got, the type of mood he was in. It was challenging for us to give him space to "figure out his mind" (that's a saying that my mom & grandma had told me he had said when he was little) because the guy we once knew was so full of life and memories and excitement. The introduction of new people and new things (either completely new or "new to him") was not necessary and certainly not helpful as it would frustrate him or exhaust him. We had to wait for him to figure out his mind. Keep the faith, keep hoping something would click, keep praying for recovery.
One day I received a text message from my Uncle's wife saying "something changed" and my Uncle seemed way more alert, something clicked, something was kind of working differently, but for the better!!
There are still obstacles to be had, but suddenly some things seemed to finally come in focus for him and again we were given the gift of hope. Even his therapists said they believe he will prove the doubters wrong and there is hope for so much more than what they expected. Again, we were seeing things we didn't know would ever be possible again and suddenly... Suddenly we are counting down the days until he graduates from his rehab facility and comes home!!

Every single person that came together for our family, that gave us hope, sent your prayers, thought of us all during this trying time, you have been a very important part of the puzzle. You have helped the family overcome this test. Are we completely in the clear? Not quite, but the good news is always our focus. He will be home for his son's 13th birthday, he will be home for Christmas & New Years. He will home with his family and we are so very thankful! Never give up, always keep the faith, where there's a will there's a way, and all the other cliche' sayings are true. Thank the good Lord for answered prayers.

Growing Pains

The other morning I looked at my 2 years 4.5 month old son and immediately thought "Holy Schnikes, that kid grew over night." He just looks taller, just seems taller, just suddenly, BOOM! TALLER. I don't know how it happens, I am not sure why, but I am pretty certain that explains my sweet, baby boy acting like the terrifying toddler he has been this week.

Yes, he's two, and that should mean he's in the terrible twos and I should expect the crazy things he does or the way he is suddenly acting, but I wasn't expecting this. It's almost like mood swings, it's not mean or hurtful, it's not even sassy (he's my kid, he will always be sassy), it's like tears pour out of his eyes, his feelings are consistently hurt over something so not normal for him. 

My daughter, well, she's my kid, so her mood swings are expected, and have been tolerated from the day she was born, and we realize until forever. My son, on the other hand, he's never cried-- not if we discipline him, not if we yell, or tell him "no," not for anything. Until late last week, maybe earlier this week? Suddenly everything warrants tears. Again, this isn't that unusual, as he is my kid and I can cry from watching a stupid, German grocery store commercial, or AT&T, or dogs, or whatever. I just didn't think it would hit my son, so quickly, so much.

Is it growing pains? Is he sad or actually IN PAIN? I intend to measure him this weekend, just to see how much he's grown, because I do believe he sprouted up tall over night. I hope it's just a phase and something that will pass, not so much because being sensitive is a bad thing, but because I truly miss my sweet, silly, (sometimes sassy), totally crazy, little boy that doesn't have a mean bone in his body, he is just a bit... mischievous.

Family Tradition

It's that time of year when you start to remember all of your family's traditions that some how got passed down from generation to generation. Crazy to think back to when I was little and we used to travel to Indiana every year. Not necessarily for Thanksgiving, but Memorial Weekend, for the Indy 500. My mom's entire family would get together. The things I remember the most was the laughs. That part of my family was always laughing. You just hoped you were laughing with them and not being laughed at, because it was always their mission to play a prank or joke on someone, anyone. Every person was fair game, no one was safe from the crazy antics.

My Great-Grandma walked with a cane, although I never really remember her using the cane for walking. She would swat you on the backside as you walked past her. My Grandma would lurk behind anything and yell "BOO" to scare you. As would my mother. Turns out I inherited this lovely trait for scaring unsuspecting people-- I scared my husband (at the time he was just my boyfriend) when he walked into my apartment. I simply waited behind the door and said "Boo" when he walked in.Scared him enough that he fell over the couch.

My brother could tell you a story about coming home from the race, riding in the car with my mom's Uncle (Jay Lee) and his son, Chad (my mom's cousin). My brother could tell the story so much better than I ever could, as he experienced it and it scared him so bad that almost 30 years later my brother still talks about it. My brother was asleep in the back of the car-- see, when you go to the Indy 500 you get up at the crack of dawn and drive into Indianapolis. Then you tail-gate all day, even when you're only about 10 years old tail-gating is a VERY important piece of the puzzle. Of course this leads to a very long day in the sun, exhausting everyone. My brother fell asleep in the backseat and woke up to Jay Lee slamming on the breaks, he and Chad screaming at the top of their lungs! Talk about terrifying. Jay Lee's smile is so contagious, you cannot even hold it against him, you just have to laugh along with them.

Jay Lee passed away this weekend, after a long battle. It's heartbreaking because he was the baby of the family and he was always so much fun! But, let me tell you the crazy family antics have been passed down. Last night I was in the shower-- 10 minutes of hot shower, no toddlers. At least I thought so. I left my son in the bedroom watching the "dog movie" (101 Dalmatians) and my husband had our daughter asleep in the chair after she passed out during her breathing treatment. I started to hear some nudges at the door. It could have been the dog, but usually he nudges it and moves on, but then the door opens and my son walks in, all sneaky, and says "BOO!" I could not stop laughing at my TWO YEAR OLD SON, who some how managed to inherit the silly trait of scaring people. We walk around the house, jumping out from behind corners a lot in my house. My Grandma would think it was the funniest thing ever. Every day I wish she were alive to see his silliness, especially last night. I would have loved to have called her and told her about her Great-Grandson, she would have been so proud.

My Grandma probably was standing behind the Golden Gate and St Peter, lurking, just waiting for Jay Lee to step foot into Heaven for the first time, and at the exact right moment jump out and yell BOO! That's how it goes...

In memory of Jay Lee, and my Grandma Mary Lou

Memories I Don't Want to Forget...

Something ever happen and you think to yourself "I need to remember this forever" because it is either hilarious or heartwarming. Maybe it was just a touching moment that made you think there is hope for our future.

My son can be such a big brother!! Sometimes he is pushing his sister down, sometimes he is yelling at her (for Lord only knows what reason this time), sometimes he is being so loving and sweet...

Sister was asleep in the bedroom, my son, my husband, and I were all in the living room. My son had me laughing, we were goofing around, my husband watching us, just laughing at us being funny. Then Sis woke up. Let out a cry, and my son said "Uh oh, baby" and took off running to the bedroom. Both of my children have toddler beds, and Sis was just sitting on the edge of her bed and my son climbed up, gave her a hug and kiss, and got back down.

It was sweet. Very sweet, very heart warming, very beautiful and I never want to forget it. However, Sis... her smile, when her big brother came to her rescue was just as wonderful and heart-warming. Just as memorable. I hope I never forget these moments.

Especially when my toddlers start acting like toddlers again. Especially when my son doesn't want his baby sister on his (toddler-sized)
slide, playing with him. Especially when he shoves her off the slide and she gets a lovely bruise on her cheek, that will easily last for weeks, probably through to our Christmas pictures.

Crack of Dawn

This Sunday will officially be the 4th Sunday since the end of Daylight Savings Time. This Sunday will likely also be the 4th Sunday my son decides to wake up before the actual sun. I am almost begging for a growth spurt or maybe a switch to go off in him that makes him sleep more than just the 8 hours he gets at night.

People always said babies and toddlers will sleep 12 hours straight. I call BS, because my oldest has NEVER slept 12 hours straight. He's happy, he's silly, he's typically in a really good mood, he's fun, and he's adorable, but he does not sleep.

Sis on the other hand... 12 hours would be the small side of things, except it's not. My daughter can sleep anywhere. She will even let you wake her up for a little while and then fall back asleep when she feels like it. However, she can not sleep through her brother's 6AM wake up calls. No one in the house can sleep through brother.

Earlier this week he had us awake before 5:30AM. I made him some breakfast (a delicious cereal bar-- so yeah, I unwrapped the cereal bar. At 5:30AM that IS making breakfast), poured him some milk, and started his beloved Little Einsteins. Soon Sis was awake, and Daddy, so I was able to go get ready for work. I left on time and exhausted. Then, shortly after arriving at work, Ryan texts me a sweet picture of my adorable Princess. She found her infant bouncy seat, crawled in it with the dog's blanket, and took herself a little nap. Thank God I have one child that enjoys sleep. It's too bad we had to experience colic and baby icky-sickies before we ever got her to the point of being a sweet, precious, little sleeper, but I will take it!

Meet the Fitzetto's...

Welcome to the newest addition of my attempt at blog writing. A little about myself, well, about us!

My babies are 13.5 mos apart. When we announced we were expecting our 2nd bundle of joy most every reaction was "whoa, that soon!" or other remarks equally judge-y. Truth be known I was ready for a 2nd baby. We started "late" on having kids and all my life I knew I wanted to be a mother. I was ready to sign up for five children, had we not already been "old" when we got married. It was not necessarily planned to have babies back-to-back, but it wasn't necessarily a mistake or an oops or any other word you may think is the polite way to describe an unplanned pregnancy. We knew what we were doing and maybe it was sleep deprivation or the fact that my son has been the perfect child since the day he was born, who knows, but we were ready to have baby #2. We want to be a loving family with lots of giggles and craziness. However, that doesn't mean we are immune to the insanity that is toddler life.

Other than having two babies, I am a working mom. A mother who cannot afford to send her kids to daycare 5 days a week, nor afford to not work. Therefore my husband has taken the opportunity to work Thursday through Sunday. My kids get a part-time stay-at-home Dad. I don't get any husband time, nor is there many opportunities for any date nights, heck, we don't even stay up past the kids bedtimes usually!! I not only work Monday through Friday, but I work in sports, so when the team is in town I can work around 60-80 hours in a week, every day of the week, from 9AM until who knows what time in the evening. Sometimes I crawl out of bed and get ready while my babies are still snuggled in, not quite awake, as I leave for work. When I return, many nights they are fast asleep already.

My children are lucky enough to not only have their daddy home with them three days a week, but to have my parents near by for those weekends when both mommy & daddy work. My parents agreed to watch the kids when I am at games on the weekends, and my son thinks it is the best thing on Earth! My mom is exhausted after a few hours, but my children... we can't even mention "Grandma & Grandpa" around them, because my children will rush out the door, climb in the car, and eagerly wait for us to get there. In fact we are having dinner at my parent's house tomorrow, but I can't tell my son until I pick him up from school, or he won't stay at school willingly, therefore drop off will be very emotional, for all of us.

This new blog is about being a hard-working mommy with a part-time-stay-at-home-daddy husband, and our two perfect toddlers.