Flu-rrific!

Well instead of bringing tidings of comfort and joy this Christmas, we decided to lovingly give  people the flu instead. You're very welcome, father-in-law. Don't say we never gave you anything.

And in our defense, the first doctor we saw said we had sinus infections. And that we weren't contagious. So sorry to anybody else (our entire church) we came into contact with!! We plead the fifth.

And since Todd and I have been dying a slow and painful death since last  Saturday, here are our pictures from Christmas Day. Now seriously, I know you're thinking "how did you get such amazing pics when you were deathly ill and half asleep and your camera battery was dead?" but try not to beat yourself up too much.....not everybody has this kind of talent:

See how I made their eyes pop? Beautiful. Just beautiful. Todd looks possessed.

(And notice the placement of Owen's hand on RGIII......lovely. I really captured a magical moment there....)

 

Emma Grace is in love with her new doll, whom she named "Gracie".......

 

And the boys room now looks like 2 football teams vomited all over it.

And they love it!

And I've been told that it's not my room and to let it go...........

I'm working on it.

And my sister has been in Charlotte now for eight days. And I haven't seen her yet. And we won't even discuss the repercussions of that, but let's just say, if I don't get to see her at all this Christmas, you may find me in a puddle on the floor.

And what do you do when you're quarantined in your home and have ten minute spurts of energy here and there? You lysol every Christmas decoration as you tear it down.....

Not nearly as fun as putting it up.

Here's to hoping next year's Christmas is a little bit more joyful and less germ filled than this one. And even though we've been quarantined, we are happy to be together watching movies and playing games and hacking up our lungs. Because nothing says Christmas like forced family time and lung hacking.

So Merry Christmas to All.

And to all, a good night.

Forget Me Not

 

 

Saw this on FB.

 

It made me laugh.

 

And scared me.

 

Because somehow I think that might be me one day.

Heartbreak

What happened yesterday in Connecticut is atrocious and my heart is breaking for the families who lost someone, the families who are trying to help their children understand and feel safe at school again, the teachers who were heroes amidst chaos, the officers who had to see so many slain children, and my heart is breaking for a sick, young boy who was so broken that he would do something so horrifying.

And I definitely don't have the answers here. Nobody does, but there have been some comments on FB and other social media that are false. And I don't know much in this world, but I do know that what happened yesterday was not the will of God and one day when my kids read this blog, I want to make sure they understand this. So if you're looking for a lighthearted post, you may want to skip this one, but to each of my babies who I got to hold in my arms last night, please know that something horrible happened in the world yesterday. A young man killed 26 people at an elementary school. 20 of them were first graders, like you are right now, Isaac. I can't imagine if you had not gotten off your school bus today and run through the door to throw your arms around me and tell me about your day. Cannot imagine it, yet, I know it happens. It has happened before and unfortunately, it will happen again.

And when it does happen, you will hear people say things like the following:

"- good for the children who get to be with Jesus again."

"-God needed more angels."

"-thank goodness hell exists for the person who did this."

"-this happened because God is not in our schools."

etc, etc, etc.....

And I want you to know that your mother does not agree with those statements. Let me start by saying something that has taken me awhile to grasp; what happened yesterday was not God's will. Our God does not create suffering on this earth. Does He have the power to stop it? Yes. Why didn't He? Only He knows, but He didn't create it. We create tragedy in our evil, selfish desires and He unfortunately has to walk with us through the trials and messes our human flesh create. And while the parents of those children may one day be thankful that Heaven exists and it may bring them comfort to know their child is now safe from the evils of this world, it does not mean that yesterday was God's will. He did not have spare wings and create a tragedy just to increase His celestial beings. Far from it; it was proof that evil exists. It was proof that Satan is real and we need God now more than ever.

And out of our need for Him, we should never be thankful that Hell exists. God does not rank our sins, so can you imagine what it means to be thankful that hell exists? It means that, without the grace of Jesus, we would all be headed there. It means separation from God for eternity. That is a really really long time to be separated from the father. It is not our place to judge the boy who did this. It is our place to love as Jesus loves. It is our place to learn from this. It is our place to look at that boy's life and perhaps reach out to others who are hurting like him before they too become broken beyond repair.

And to see people write over and over again that this happened because God is not in our schools absolutely breaks my heart. God is in our schools. God is everywhere. If you have faith and believe in Him, you should know this at your core. Just because teachers aren't "allowed" to teach about God in public schools doesn't mean He doesn't show up there everyday. I've worked in schools and believe me, He's there. And He was with those families yesterday just as much as He was with families thousands of years ago as their first born sons were being ruthlessly murdered by Pharoah. You see we live in a broken world. And you don't have to read very far into the bible to realize that it has been broken for a long, long, long time.

But thankfully, by the grace of Jesus, we don't have to live in this brokenness forever.

One day we will all go home because of a baby that was born in a manger and because of a man who lived on this earth for 33 years and tried to change the lives of people like Adam Lanza and you and me.

And amidst this tragedy, I hope our nation can grow and love and change some gun laws and surround the families who are hurting and offer them love and peace and time to mourn, and I hope we can remember the reason for this time of year and the hope that Jesus brings to our shattered world.

And I hope you, Emma Grace, Owen, and Isaac, though you may lose your faith in humanity, I hope you will never lose your faith in our God.

Battle of the Bulge

Well, we spent the day out at the hospital on Wednesday, which is never fun anyways, but especially when your visit causes team meetings and multiple discussions on strategies and plans because yes, Owen dive bombed off the chart.

His poor little chart that we've worked so hard on had been steadily climbing up.

Enter Wednesday. That beautiful chart plummeted and I had no idea. Talk about guilt. And even though he looks okay right now, we need wiggle room on that chart. He can't hang out that low.

Son of a Witch. I was just sitting there trying so hard not to cry. And one doc would come in and leave and Owen would say, "which teacher is coming in next? And what are they going to do to me?"

So what does this mean for my lil' man?

It means we're increasing neocate.

It means we're increasing calories, which means we're also increasing meal time battles again.

It means we're adding sunflower butter and extra calories to anything edible.

It means we're back on duocal.

It means I have to start pureeing some stuff again since he can't handle certain textures and I can sneak more calories in that way.

It means we haven't fought this last bout of EE aggressively enough and now his esophagus is full of those dirty little bastards and he's hurting when he eats.

It means we've doubled all his medications.

It means we have exactly one month to get him back on the chart before they biopsy again.

It means if we don't get him back on the chart, we will once again enter into the world of feeding therapy.

It means that's not an option for me.

We've done this once or twice before.

It means God will be faithful. He always is.

It means we will battle.

And it means Brother's gonna gain some weight.

And in the stressful process, I'll probably gain some too. 

You know, out of support......

In other news, at her last appointment, this one had gained eight pounds in three weeks.

Maybe we should start feeding Owen some of her food.

With sunflower butter on it, of course.

I'm done venting. 

For now.

Happy Eating, Everyone!

Fancy Enough?

Did we throw the girliest tea party ever in the history of mankind?

Probably not, but it was definitely the girliest tea party in the history of the Fischer Family!

Emma Grace is my sister reincarnated.

She loves all things girly and pink.

She knows our levels of fancy are "different" so she was a bit worried about my ability to create a party worthy to be compared to the "Fancy Nancy" Tea Party.

But thanks to this sweet, sweet friend of mine who claimed she wanted to help,

I believe we pulled it off.

As Shelby would say, "my colors are blush and bashful."

Here were our debonaire waiters.

Thank you, Cinda Williams, for helping me throw a fancy party that Emma Grace will remember forever!!

And I will be forcing you to come over soon to watch Steel Magnolias - because how can you be a true Southern Woman without recognizing SM quotes?!

Just saying......

Best Mom Ever Award!!

As we all know (if you've been reading this blog for any length of time), I have been attempting to receive this award for quite some time and I finally figured it out; there's no way in you know where that I can win it these days, but there was definitely a point in time when I could have:

Seriously. I know I was puffy, but damn I was a good mom on that day and in the nine months leading up to it. I had all the mothering stuff figured out. This pic was taken minutes before we left for Duke hospital to have my drug free delivery. No epidural for me; I didn't want my baby coming out of the womb "high" and I have a high tolerance for pain, so I wouldn't need drugs. Seriously. I made it all the way to like two or three centimeters before I was begging for an epidural. Like I said, "high" tolerance........

And fortunately for me, that epidural came in handy when certain people's heart rate dropped and she had to be delivered via c-section.

Okay so one tiny setback. No harm, no foul. I still had the mothering thing down. 

Baby blues?

Puffy Girl wouldn't get those. She wanted to be a mom for too long and had always been good with kids, so no worries on that.  She expected nothing but dressing baby girl in cute outfits and extreme happiness for the years to follow. She didn't cry for weeks and weeks on end. Nope. Not her. She just had something in her eye......

Oh and she was so ready to nurse. She read the books, hired lactation specialists, and had the LaLeche league on speed dial. Literally. She was going to breast feed come hell or high water. Only one small problem - Little girl did not buy into the whole "breast is best" theory. She liked the milk just fine, but took extreme issues with the tap. Extreme.

Crap. 

Here are some more lies I told myself during my best parenting year of not yet parenting ever. I'm still amazed at how bright I was then!

1. Baby would never sleep in the bed with me. Never.

2. Baby would be a great napper. ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha.

3. Puffy Girl would never let her children eat in the car.

4. She would NEVER drive a minivan.

5.  Did I mention she would never ever ever drive a minivan?

6. She would never yell. She may raise her voice from time to time, but never yell.

7. She would never forget a doctor's appointment, or send her kid to school sick, or be late through the carpool line, or forget a kid at church, or break down in the middle of the grocery store, or let her kids whine and talk back, or forget field days or snack days, or pick her kids up from preschools still in her pajamas, etc etc.

8. Bribery was for stupid parents. She would never do that.

9. All healthy foods all the time. No junk. And especially no bribery with junk.

10. And best of all, she would love every moment of every day. Every SINGLE moment. Of that she was sure. She would not be one of those moms who griped and didn't enjoy every blessed moment with their beautiful little cherubs.

Enter baby girl.
My sweet diva.

We have taught each other a thing or two over the years.

We have shed some tears together. And as you creep up on your teenage years, I'm sure we'll shed many more.

But you, my first born, gave me the best gift of all on December 6, 2004.

You came out of the womb and sucker punched me in the face with a dose of reality.

You said "I'll take all your preconceived romantic notions on mothering and raise you a billion temper tantrums, potty training from Hell, no naps, no nursing, and all that with a stubborn attitude thrown in."

You threw your head back and laughed an evil little laugh and said, "Mwa ha ha, Mommy Dearest, you still loving every minute of every day?"

And to that I say, "heck no, little girl. There are moments of every day that I want to throw in the towel, climb into a remote closet, pour a glass of wine, and pretend I'm on an island somewhere. But dang little girl, you introduced me to the world of mothering and even though I may not love every single moment, I love every single fiber of your being. So thank you for coming into my world, turning it upside down, and teaching me that I may not be the perfect parent I dreamed I would be during the best not yet parenting year of my life, but honestly I kind of dig the way we're each growing and learning as we go along. I like the good times and the mistakes and the I'm sorry's and the forgiveness and the grace we have to share with each other. Because that's what family and real parenting is - knowing each other inside and out, and loving each other, flaws and all."

And you, Little Girl, you make me laugh. 

You frustrate me.

You infuriate me.

You delight me.

You amaze me.

You make me smile.
You help me.
You challenge me.
But most of all, you love the real me.
Almost as much as I love the real you.

You started this journey that I'm blessed to call my life. You made us into a little family and you've been there every step of the way as we've grown from three people with a dog to five people, two dogs, two dead fish, one fish that refuses to die, one summer sister, too many cousins to count, and lots and lots of chaos.

So Happy Eighth Birthday, Sweet and Sassy Little Girl!

Now for the love of all things, slow down on this whole growing thing!

Please?

6 Year Referraliversary

Tomorrow is our six year referraliversary.

Has it really been six years since we first saw this sweet little face on our computer screen?

Can't even describe how much this kid rocks. I mean I know I'm a bit biased, but he really is one funny, sweet kid.

He is a light.

And watching him grow is a delight.

 

Happy Referraliversary, Isaac.

There aren't enough words to describe how much we love you!

Thanks for your sweet smiles, your Ethiopian Spirit, your funny demeanor, your love of your siblings, and the way you always try to get me under the mistletoe so you can kiss my cheek.

We are so blessed by you.

So so very blessed!!