Oops, I did it Again....

Well?

I did it again......

http://www.fabfischerfive.blogspot.com/2012/09/oh-yes-i-did.html

Apparently, if you play with fire long enough, you're going to get burned.

Or if you go in puppy stores long enough, you're going to get a puppy.

The difference? This time I had permission from the hubs......

Owen and I are still in love with the little girl puppy I posted before. Problem is, little girl puppy cost $1000. I am not even lying. So I started looking at breeders of "cockapoos" or "cavapoos" as they are supposedly great therapy and family dogs. Cheapest I could find was $800. $800!!! Are you serious?! So then I started looking at shelter animals and most of the poodle mixes were way older and "not good with kids or other dogs." Hhhhhmmmmmmmm. That's not gonna fly around here. I was looking in NC and the states between here and NC to pick him or her up on the way home.

Then this picture of a cockapoo (I know, such a manly breed) popped up on my screen:

I sent it to Todd and said, "It's Chewbacca! We have to rescue Chewbacca!" 

We both thought he was hilarious so I called first thing the next morning. No go. Chewie already had people coming to see him up that day. :(

I decided to call back a few days later just to make sure.

Still a no go. That family was picking him up on Sunday. She was taking him off the internet.

Well, I called again Monday morning just to make sure.

The Shelter lady said they never showed up but she wasn't going to let us come see him because she didn't want him to move all the way to NC. It is a family run shelter and she likes to keep the dogs close in case it's not a good fit. She wants them back instead of being abandoned to another shelter. I said I understood.

We hung up.

I thought about it for five minutes.

I called her back and told her I couldn't stop thinking about this dog. And that we are a great family. And could she just let me come see them and then she could decide?

Her exact words:

"Damn. You are persistent."

Yes, yes I am.

So Owen and I drove all the way there after we left the hospital and spent two minutes with the dog and the shelter lady wouldn't let us pet him. It was bizarre. She is bizarre and abrasive but obviously cares a lot about the animals. I called my sister and said, "that's obviously a no go. She was a wee bit crazy and wouldn't let us pet the dog and I couldn't even tell what he was like?! She made Owen stand with his hands on his shoulders the whole time and then told me that all us suburban people think adopting dogs is like the movies." My sister said, "well go back. You don't have to live with her, just the dog."

The sister can be wise sometimes.

So I called Crazy Shelter Lady back the next morning. I think she agreed to let us come back because I was pretty much stalking her at this point. ;) 

The bigs and I went back Friday.

We spent an hour with the dog.

We left with him for a trial run over the weekend.

We all fell hard.

We named him Cooper.

Cooper Chewbacca Fischer

We hope to have him trained to be an emotional therapy dog for Owen.

Don't think it's going to take much training.......

Little Lamb.

Welcome to the fam, Coop.

Hope you like crazy.

Week Two - I'm over you.....

Not gonna lie people,

this has not been my favorite week, although it got off to a good start since my parents came to visit, which was awesome.

Here we are happily awaiting their arrival:

They got here and we went into NYC on Saturday which was also awesome and not so awesome. I had a great time with my parents but some people didn't so much love the crowds and those people did a lot of whining before they finally shut down and crashed, leaving me to actually stroll in peace.......but I won't name any names.

The unfortunate part of my parents coming was the part when they had to leave.

What the Heck?! 

WHY do people keep leaving us up here by ourselves with these crazy Northern Drivers and such?! ;)

Once we survive (and I do mean SURVIVE) the drive to the hospital, Owen has been doing really really well with therapies. Apparently, based on questions I've been getting, I need to explain a little bit more about the purpose of our trip. Feel free to skim the medical update and get to the crazy if you want to shake your head and judge me...... We are here for two main reasons: 1. We really need Owen to gain weight because of food rather than formula and 2. Owen's last set of allergy testing came back negative for everything.......which is pretty cool but also can mean absolutely nothing with his disease. Basically, in a nutshell, the tomato, wheat, egg, soy, dairy, peanut, avocado, etc that all came back positive four years ago was no longer positive which means we can start reintroducing those foods in his diet. But even though the blood work came back negative, his esophagus and intestines can still swell up and go cray cray on the inside with no outward physical signs. Was that clear as mud for ya? So even with negative results, after being told that certain foods will make you sick for four years, you can't just hand a kid a peanut butter sandwich and expect him to not have any fears about ingesting it. Hence, we have been introducing things slowly, in a controlled environment, and under the watchful eyes of expert doctors in all things feeding, swallowing, and GI. IE - that's why we're at St. Joseph's.

Things are going very very well. And by "well," I mean Owen is working his ass off trying to please his therapists, doctors, and myself. He gets strapped in a car seat five times a day and is forced to eat things he has never tried before. In between those sessions, he works hard in PT to build up his upper body and work on his posture because he still hunches over to try to protect his abdomen. So the boy? He's working hard. As for the food? We have mostly had success. He's finally up to ten bites of eggs. He's up to eight bites of oatmeal and he only gagged twice today. He's up to six bites of pasta and that one he actually likes! Yay! 

But the one we've all been crossing our fingers and hoping and praying for.......it's not gonna happen.

Dairy, the queen of all things fattening, sucker punched my kid in the gut today. He had 5 mL's at his first feed. That is only a teaspoon. One TEASPOON and he started hurting soon after. We decided to push through at his next feed because his rash was very light and he got 5 more mL's.

He cried and fussed through that meal but he did still eat.

And then he got really sick about an hour after. Puking. (And the other end sick.)

 I felt so so so bad for him. He was in so much pain and there was nothing I could do except wait it out. 2 teaspoons of dairy and his body said "Oh hellz to the no." It made me so sad. We wanted dairy. We needed dairy. Cheese and milk and ice cream and yogurt? Those things help me gain weight so I was hoping they would help him too. Why should I be the only one in the family to enjoy a squishy muffin top?! We left the hospital early and disappointed since it was clear that therapy was not going to happen with him in that much pain.

After leaving, thankfully, and through no fault of his own, he pooped his pants on the way back to the hotel. Why on earth am I thankful for that?

Because it prevented me from stopping to buy a puppy.

Yes, you read that correctly because I am certifiable.

And lonely.

And to pass the time in the evenings, we've been going to various pet stores and playing with dogs because my boy LOVES dogs. (His mom kind of likes them too.) And of course we fell in love with this one. This is a breed that is often used for therapy dogs because they are smaller and very friendly and cuddly. And yes, the doctor can write a note saying Owen needs a therapy dog and we can get tags and take her wherever we go. And yes, the doctor and another mom in the waiting room talked to us all about this. And yes, this boy who often gets anxious in crowds and anxious at night could have someone to snuggle, but here's the thing people, we ALREADY HAVE A DOG! 

We have a slightly crazy but lovable dog that I already brought home pretty much without permission.

I don't think I can do that to Todd twice! Although.....I'm not making any promises. And he promises not to judge me because this situation sucks and he understands my weaknesses. In sickness and in health, people. We vowed. The vows did not clarify between physical or psychological sickness, thank the Lord, because Todd is still with me. Well as far as I know, he is. Actually, he could be in Canada for all I know since I haven't seen him in weeks. But I think he's still at home.......shaking his head at his crazy wife.

And I am CRAZY for even thinking about this, but when he was in so much pain today, I thought, screw it, I'm getting the kid that puppy.

And then dairy and poop saved my family from my shenanigans for at least one more day. I never thought I would be so thankful to clean out crappy underwear. I'm literally praying someone else adopts her before I lose all my willpower.

Geez!

I can't even stand that much cuteness.

Hoping my boy feels much better tomorrow! And I'm also hoping another family finds this dog absolutely adorable and adopts her. And I hope that family is named Todd. ;)

Just kidding babe.

"Go sell crazy somewhere else, we're all stocked up here."

-As Good as it Gets

Swimming and Fake Salons

Day Two was a bit harder than day one so we ended it with the only thing that makes sense when you've moved houses, finished a semester, lost your dog, and you're stuck in a hospital watching your kid work harder than he should have to work.....

We ended it with swimming and hair dye.

The pool makes my boy so so happy at the end of the day.

Sarah Ellen and I don't mind the pool too much either since we sit in lounge chairs and drink free beer while he swims.....

And just for the heck of it, I've always wanted to try being a brunette. I mean why not change my hair when everything around me is changing as well? 

So thanks to my free hair dresser and a box from Target.......

Not sure if I'll stick with it, but at least it's not green which was an actual fear I had. I was armed with a hat and the name of a salon should this end poorly. (I mean, not that I doubted my sister, who once tried to cut my ponytail off while I was brushing my teeth......but that's neither here nor there....)

So there you have it.

Day Two:

Hard Work,

Pool Time,

And a new Hair Do.

The Good, The Bad, and The Sister.

I know the title says we're starting with the good, but let's not do that. 

Let's start with crappy and end with happy.

Just because we can.

The Bad:

After 14 years with this amazing chocolate lab in our lives, we had to put her down last Wednesday. She lived a long, hopefully mostly happy life, but it was time. And it was hard. Our animals are so much more than just pets. My dad says that dogs are the only thing that love us more than themselves and I agree. 100%. Well Jesus does too. Dogs and Jesus. Not that I'm comparing Jesus to dogs. Just the love. Oh goodness. You know what I mean.......

Anywho - I want to tell you just one cool story about our sweet Kaia and then we'll move onto the good. I promise.

When we moved into our previous previous home two years into married life, the first thing our elderly neighbors said was, "we hope you don't have any dogs. We hate dogs." Oops. Um about that....we happen to have a one year old chocolate lab who loves to run and chase things and occasionally a lot of the time bark at a passerby.

And then she wormed her way into their hearts in the endearing way that she loved on everyone. We would come home and find out they had been giving her treats and throwing a stick with her. We had an invisible fence that she never crossed because she was a wuss but they would come over to play with her.

Fast forward about seven years....

We came home one day and found out Murray was in the hospital. When Todd went to visit him a few days later, he kept trying to tell Todd something but he couldn't talk well after the stroke. He finally got it out.

"Kaia. My best friend.

Kaia. Best Friend."

Come to find out, Murray had a stroke in his back yard.

Kaia ran through the invisible fence (shocking herself) and stood over his body barking continuously until Helen came out to see what was wrong?

That's Love, people.

That's a dog for you.

She had occasional moments where I wanted to kill her like when she ate all my students papers, our remote control, and gobs of toilet paper....or when she made me chase her in the pouring down rain while I was nine months pregnant with Owen, but I wouldn't change a thing. 

She was our first baby and she is MISSED!

RIP sweet girl. You made life much more enjoyable. You will not be forgotten.

And now for the good?

We just finished our first day at St. Josephs. Day one out of 25 and it's good? Really?

Yes.

We got over the mental hurdle of leaving the family. And believe me, it was a hurdle.

But we're here; we're adjusting, and Owen had a great first day. He ate all of his bites at every meal and warmed up to his therapists. His weight was good and we're already discussing all of our options for foods to introduce, etc. It is going to be hard work, but I am hopeful. And hope is good. I will try to update more after our big team meeting Thursday morning, but for now, here's a few things you can pray for if you get bored:

1. They're going to start challenging him towards the end of the week with more volume, textures, and new foods.

2. He has to have his g-tube replaced back to the correct size for his stoma. I'm scared. He's scared. Pray this goes smoothly.

3. Weight Gain. Weight Gain. Weight Gain. They will weigh him three times a week. This is serious business here. We need to see progress on FOOD so we can slow down on the g-tube. This is my NUMBER ONE goal for being here. I want to see this boy gain weight from FOOD. Not formula.

And now for the even better news?

Aunt Sarah Ellen is here. All the way from TX.

And we love us some Aunt Sarah Ellen. She's great with Owen and she makes me laugh. What more could you want? 

Oh wait.......

And then there's this too:

While you soak up that cuteness, I'm off to bed.

Bring it, Day Two.

The Rescuer

With final exams coming in less than a week, a messy house, and nothing packed or prepared for NJ, what better time than to take my messy messy thoughts and attempt to put them on the blog? After all, as my good friend Donnie says, "why do today what you can put off until tomorrow?" 

Why indeed? 

This week has been all about the countdown. Owen cried in my lap this morning about having to leave in a week and how Emma Grace and Isaac can't come with him. So I did what every good parent does and tried to put a positive spin on a five week hospital stay far away from everything he holds dear.

The tricks I pulled out of my bag?

-but Aunt Sarah Ellen is coming the same day we are!!

-there will be an indoor pool!!

-you'll get to ride in your new stroller a lot!

-there's a lake there! Remember when you played in the lake?!

To which he replied, 

"there's a lake here too, Mom."

Touche son.

Touche.

It's hard to turn a crappy situation into rainbows with a child who sees everything as black and white. He is not easily snowed.

But he is excited and in love with his new stroller. He tells anyone who will listen about it. He loves loves loves it and wanted to ride in it in Target the other night. Target. It is highly possible that we have created a monster.

The older two are adjusting to the impending separation. There have been some tears this week, but my hope is that they will be so busy with school and friends that they won't even notice we're gone? Sounds reasonable, right? And we're also spoiling them in an attempt to assuage any fears. After dinner the other night, they asked to split a milkshake? Yes kids, suck down that sugary treat. And next week when you're bummed that Mom and Owen are gone? You best remember.........we let you have that milkshake.

Aaaaaahhhhhhhhhh.
Parenting at its finest.

Speaking of parenting at its finest, my dad sent me this sermon this week. And wow. It was all about trying to see Jesus. And this part really resonated with me:

Sixth, if “we want to see Jesus,” there is
suffering involved. I hate that.
The second part of the Table shows us
suffering. The cup is his blood, and
blood is pain, blood is suffering, blood is
death.
And that's WHERE HE IS, where people
suffer. So that's where we have to go to
see him. Didn't he say, if you fed the
hungry, visited the sick, it was doing
those things to him? So if we avoid the
sick, avoid the hungry, then WHOM are
we avoiding?
How will we see him if we don't want to
go where he goes?
If any man wants to come after me,
let him deny himself, take up his
cross and follow me.
That is where he went after the cup -- to
the cross. A disciple is not above his
teacher.

Ugh. Couldn't we just go to church?

Some of you are almost laughing, except
it isn't funny. Here I am talking about
"if" suffering is involved, and whether we
want to go there or not, and you're
already THERE.
You’re LIVING there, in suffering that is,
and you WISH TO GOD that you could
live somewhere else. It's not a theory.
You're hurting now.
Debilitating illness, the ravages of age,
unfair death of a loved one, emotional
pain, injustice all around you. Lost your 
job, lost your house. You are hurting
now, you don't understand, and it's not
fair, and it's not SUPPOSED to be this
way.
There is good news and strange news.
Through the suffering of Christ came
forgiveness of sins. If we suffer along
with him, if our suffering is like this, 
what does that mean?
....................
We want to give you Jesus, not hell.
I am sure some of you have more than a
taste of hell in this life.
We believe Jesus rescues us. From the
hell of this world, and the next.
Rescue. "It's what he does, and it's all
he does, and he will not stop." 
-Mike Tucker

Sometimes it's easy to get caught up in our own suffering and forget that there was someone out there who suffered far greater than we do. Someone who suffered so that ultimately, at the end of this life, our suffering can end.  We may have "lost" our house, we may have illness, we may have to work hard at our marriage in these trying times, we may have to try to explain hard things to young children, but if all this brings us closer to seeing Him? To seeing his miracles? To being a part of his rescue?

Well dang.
That makes me pretty grateful.

Thanks Dad for the much needed reminder.

After all, "life is like a box of chocolates.

You never know what you're gonna get?"

But we do know one thing.

We can be confident of one thing:

"Rescue. It's what he does, and it's all he does, and he will not stop."

So as we pack our bags and prepare for change, we can take hope with us. Hope that through it all, we will see Jesus. We'll pack that hope right in the suitcase and carry it with us and pull it out when the going gets tough. And if we lose that hope or forget about it or leave it zipped up in the suitcase, I'm sure our friends will remind us that it is there. It exists.

Because our friends and our family are awesome like that.

So basically, what I'm trying to say in my messy jumbled up brain is this:

Life is messy.
Owen loves his stroller.
The bigs are adjusting.
We have good friends.
We have awesome parents.
We have each other.
We have Jesus.

What more could you need?

The End.

New Wheels

I ordered some new wheels today.

Don't get too excited. 

Unfortunately they're not for me or Todd.....

They're for Owen.

After much research, and multiple times where we're in public places and he is overwhelmed by the crowd and wants to be carried, we decided to bite the bullet and purchase a special needs stroller. 

This is not a cheap decision and we are SO SO SO SO SO blessed to be able to use money raised by friends to make this purchase. So blessed. And awed. And amazed. And humbled. And excited about what this means for our family.

There was part of me that was scared I would have to talk him into it because he's bigger now and "strollers are for babies." Well apparently that's my own insecurity. I'm 100% sure I will be self conscious that people will judge me and my six year old in the stroller, but I'll have to get over it because I just showed him this picture and he was so excited!! Apparently he knows he gets overwhelmed and tires easily and he likes being strapped in and feeling secure. Oh, and he wants a sun shade on it. So back to amazon I go, because if he will ride in this better with a sun shade and save my arms and back, it will be money well spent.

So look out, New Jersey.

Here we come, in T-2 weeks and 3 days, rocking our new wheels yo.

Gulp.

 The countdown has begun.

PS - if you are a special needs family and want to know how the stroller works out, message me, and I'll give feedback in a few weeks. (Reading reviews really helped me!)

Ain't Nobody Got Time for that Bunny

Sometimes life (and holidays) just aren't what you think they will be. Easter 2015 was definitely one of those times. I had visions of family pics in our new house, somewhat matching and decent outfits, Easter baskets filled with candies, treats and, something special for each kid, etc. You know - the works - because when somebody dies for your sins and then they rise from the dead, it's kind of a big deal.

Instead of an awesome celebration, our Easter looked like this:

Literally, I made nothing for Easter. Not one hard boiled egg or resurrection roll or special treat. The kids got one basket with nine eggs full of jelly beans  (so that's a whopping three eggs each) and they got a gift card. Lackluster to say the least. And when EG started crying because there was no ham in the oven when she got home from church and I told her the oven was empty like the tomb, she said, I probably shouldn't use that excuse anymore. Dang. Harsh. And just FYI, we had ham the next night because I'm a bad mom, but I'm not THAT bad. A late celebration is better than no celebration, right?

And I didn't get any pics or input into their clothing because I was still asleep with Owen when they left for church. When a friend dropped the older two back home, well, let's just say.......their outfits were interesting. Isaac wore a black and red striped flannel shirt, and EG had on a black dress with hot pink running tights and winter fur lined boots. And Sister definitely did not brush her hair. Like at all.

Yup. Life with Owen oft throws a kink in our plans and we got no choice but to roll with it. Dude was one sick little boy and we're so glad he's feeling better now and actually went back to school today. And I vow to maybe/hopefully do better next year? Like maybe I'll lay out their clothes the night before and put a flashing neon sign in the bathroom that says BRUSH YOUR FREAKING HAIR!?

Anywho -

before stomach viruses and flannel/fur lined lackluster Easter celebrations - we did a little something called moving. And painting.

I painted the crizzap out of our little town home and I'm obsessed with my kitchen color.

I could stare at it all day long.

And the kids were troopers when I dragged them to the paint store over and over and over and over and over and over again. The samples were $1. We ended up with 15 samples and 7 gallons and my picture was posted outside the store asking me not to enter and bug Earl the Paint Guy. Again. EVER.

So we're settling in to our new home and making new lackluster memories that include, but are not limited to, climbing walls to try to make Owen smile.

And even though I didn't go to church on Easter Sunday, I'm still rocking my new Jesus shirt that a friend gave me:

 because it's true.

I do love Jesus.

And I do cuss a little a lot.