On second thought, maybe you can handle a headache every day after all.

About two months ago, we switched Lily's seizure medication.  The first medication we'd tried was effective at controlling the seizures but she had headaches every single day she was on it so we figured we'd explore other options.  This new medication appears to control the seizures as well, which is remarkable, considering that she is only on half of the so-called "therapeutic dose", otherwise known as the minimum dose at which seizures can typically be controlled.

I've done a lot of reading since Lily's epilepsy diagnosis, a practice which sometimes gets a huge eye-roll from doctors, because heaven knows, everything we lay people find on the internet is 100% true.  With a huge grain of salt and a healthy dose of common sense, I try to arm myself with ample information on what has/has not worked for other epilepsy patients.  I consider myself an open-minded skeptic.  The only things I completely rule out are therapies that border on dangerous, are way out of our price-range, or are just plain inconvenient.

So, based on my research, I've added the following supplements to Lily's regimen:

B Vitamins, Omega 3(fish oil), and turmeric.  In addition, I'm experimenting with the following essential oils, purported to support healthy brain function: frankincense, clary sage, ylang ylang, and lavender.  While I can't attribute the cessation of seizures to any particular thing, I'm confident that our supplementation has at least a small influence because most people with epilepsy require much higher doses of medication in order to keep seizures at bay.  For that, I am extremely grateful.

Now here's the rub.  When Lily was on her first medication, the one that caused chronic headaches, her emotional way of handling life was largely subdued.  Out went the constant power struggles, the perpetual "I can't's", the completely irrational arguments.  It was refreshing, really.  Now the craziness is back in full swing.  And I do mean crazy.  So crazy that I find myself having to lock myself in my room so I don't strangle her.  It's that impossible to convince her that she's looking at everything with a skewed perspective.  

I won't go into it, since I expect she will read this one day and be a bit miffed that her mother was inclined to check herself into a mental hospital over her behavior.  Still, I can't help but wish we could bring back those headaches because they sure made her humble...and my life a whole lot easier.  

Easter with a visitor.

It's not every year that Grandpa gets to join us for Easter.  He came just in time to help us dye the eggs on Friday night.  Then, we had an egg hunt on Saturday, tennis and horseshoes in the park on Saturday night, a lovely church meeting on Sunday, and a traditional meal of Chicken Tikka Masala.  Dad's visit was a bit of a surprise so I, knowing how much he likes Indian food and how seldom he gets to enjoy it (it's not exactly Grandma's favorite) bumped the ham and potatoes  to the following Sunday.  Yum.  Thanks for joining us, Grandpa J!

Everyone in my class gets Subway on Grandparents Day.

Several weeks ago, there was an article circulating social media sites bemoaning how every single holiday has become over-the-top, an opportunity to delight our kids with one activity or gift after another while sacrificing precious sleep, spending inordinate amounts of money, and jumping through every hoop known to man just to provide our children with limitless wonder and excitement. I liked the article.  I really liked it.  So, it was to my surprise that, within days, I found on my newsfeed a response to the original post decrying the author as judgmental for criticizing moms whose creativity demands fulfillment by celebrating each and every holiday in true Pinterest-form.  Indeed, such moms are the stuff Pinterest is made of. The author of the second blog post indicated that she, in fact, is not overly creative but that she admires such moms and anyone who doesn't is acting out of some underlying inferiority complex.  (I'm sure she didn't say that exactly, but that was the gist of it).

So here's the problem.  First of all, I must have read the original article with entirely different eyes.  I didn't see a mom who was attacking other moms for using their talents.  I saw a mom who disagreed with the practice of "normalizing" picture perfect St. Patty's Day (and other insignificant holiday)celebrations, as if they are something to strive for, when they should be an isolated case, as they once were.  The truth is, social media has talked us all into thinking that making everything fun and exciting for our kids is a desirable outcome.  It isn't.  Yes, childhood is full of wonder and imagination and creativity, but kids can achieve that easily without needing their parents to overdo every occasion.  In fact, that often breeds entitlement.

I'm not saying that we can't create Pinterest-worthy celebrations for our children, ever.  I just think that there needs to be balance so that our kids don't get some mistaken idea that we live and breathe to indulge their every fantasy.   My kids are probably disappointed in me, a lot.  I resisted the urge to cave to Anna's guilt trip a few weeks ago when she said that "all the kids whose grandparents don't get to come to school on Grandparent's Day get Subway for lunch".  First of all, not true.  And even if it were, why can't we just let kids be disappointed sometimes?  I'd hate to set them up for an adult life packed with disappointments because I'd given into every whim during their younger years.  It's okay for life to be ordinary sometimes.  And extraordinary at others.  The beauty lies in the contrast.  Let's not tip the scales too far in one direction so that our children have an unrealistic vision of what life is really about. 

Playroom makeover.

Our playroom is no longer a playroom.  I could no longer stomach the fact that the largest bedroom in our home merely housed toys and served the interests of kids who claimed no ownership of the mess they created in there almost daily.  So I got rid of a bunch of the toys, moved the rest to a smaller room, and a bedroom began to take shape.  The girls helped me paint the walls a light turquoise last summer.  By fall I'd painted a dresser as an accent.  Then we added a few shelves for Lily's artwork and I finally sewed together curtains.  It just might be my favorite room in the house now.

Afternoon naps are for the lazy. I guess that makes me lazy.

The secret to getting through my day is a little thing I like to call "quiet time".  It started when Anna was only two years old and thought it would be funny to skip out on those afternoon naps I depended upon for my sanity.  Back then it was sheer survival - read her a few books and give her a couple of hours in her room while I geared up for the second half of my day(usually by conking out like the dead for at least an hour).  Well, the kids are older now, but quiet time is alive and well.   With the exception of Saturday, we enforce a bit of time each afternoon for reading, sleeping or doing anything that doesn't disturb mom or dad.  It's often met with moans and groans, but the girls have learned that mom is infinitely happier when she gets even just a 10 minute power nap to recharge.  They learned that one the hard way, of course.

On weekdays during the school year, it's just me and Eve in the afternoons now.  Quiet time has evolved since its early days.  She reads a book or two to me, and I one or two to her.  Then I scratch her back, hoping she'll nestle down for a nap so she doesn't lose it by 5:00 in the evening.  Most days she pops up and asks, "can I go play computer?"  To which my fluttering eyelids respond in the affirmative, knowing that my chances for sleep hinge on her being either asleep or plugged into technology.  Every once in a while, she listens to her body, telling her that her napping days are not entirely over and allows herself to fall asleep beside me.  These are cherished moments, few and far between and I can't help but snap a picture of those chubby cheeks pressed against the pillow.  She's no longer a baby.  But she's still MY baby.

Two teeth in two days.

Rachel got to collect big time from the tooth fairy.  One day she boasted the loss of one tooth:

The next day, she lost the other.  

Amazing how missing a few key teeth at this age can be so cute.

Valentine's Day.

We kept it simple this year.  (Not unlike every other year).

Tim and I have an unwritten agreement that he will only buy me flowers on occasions other than Valentine's Day and Mother's Day, for practical reasons.  Chocolate, however, is welcome any day of the year.  To hedge my bets, I impulsively bought a Costco-sized container of toffee, not confident enough in his commitment to indulge my chocolate fantasies.  He bought me the exact same thing on the very same day.  Does this guy know me, or what?  Love my valentine.

Let it snow.

Sometimes a kid just needs a snow day.

They played until they were practically frozen.  Who needs school anyway?

Antidote for seasonal affective disorder.

An inversion welcomed us home to Boise after our glorious days in the California sun.  After being mired in the fog/smog/muck for a couple of weeks, I took Anna and Lily up to ski one weekend.  I had no idea how gorgeous life can be above 7000 feet in an inversion.  I almost stripped off my ski gear to work on my tan - it was that much warmer and sunnier there than down in the valley.  Here's a pic Lily took from inside the car on our ominous drive back down the mountain.

This is what it looked like on top of the mountain.

I've never been so exhilarated at seeing a blue sky.  A whole lot closer to heaven... Literally.

I wish we all could be California girls. And one boy.

I thought mobile devices were supposed to make our lives easier?  Not when it comes to blogging, I guess.  Instead of a huge diatribe about my technical difficulties in adding pictures to my blog since "upgrading" to an iPhone and iPad, I'll just present the last three months (in segments, that is):

We went to Disneyland, for starters.  We waited (and waited) until all the Southern California schools were back in session and hopped a plane to the "happiest place on earth".  Was it the happiest place on earth?  The first day, our inclination to get our money's worth sort of did us in.  We marched our kids around the park from sun up to sun down (and then some), which naturally culminated in a miserable hike back to the IHOP across the street for a 9 p.m. dinner.  Two of the four kids were on our backs.  The other two would have gladly ridden there, too, if we'd only had the space and the stamina.  Rachel completely fell apart, Eve fell asleep, Lily fell into my lap, and Anna - well, Anna was the silent champ who was just grateful we'd forked out the money to be there.  Thank you Anna, for giving us at least one reason to go back the next day.  And the next.  And then for a fourth and final day. 

Disneyland is magical, isn't it?  Our longest line was 45 minutes.  The rest were less than 20.  We also lucked out with fantastic weather.  75 to 80 degress the entire week, baby.  Sorry about your drought, California, but it really worked in our favor in January.

We got wise and rented a stroller for the last three days.  It was a life-saver for these two.  And gave them something else to fight over. 

This might be my very favorite picture of the entire trip.  Rachel, working it on the teacups while Lily sits back to relax and smile for the camera.  Oh so typical.

We had a bit of cousin time before heading to Anaheim, though, and spent much of it at the beach, of course.

I could've stayed forever.

These two spent most of their time together - marching from thrill ride to thrill ride with Dad while I kept it on the low down with the younger two in Fantasyland and Toontown.  They were awesome.

Overall experience was great.  We planned it in the hopes that all of our kids would be at the right ages and heights to enjoy the best Disneyland has to offer.  We might have missed the mark, a little bit, considering that Rachel has serious anxiety issues with rollercoasters and Eve is still young enough that taking her on the Tower of Terror was probably not one of our brightest ideas.  Still we have fabulous memories of our time there.  In fact, the kids are still talking about it.

We opened Eve's presents and celebrated with a cake a week after getting home.  Because Disneyland just wasn't enough.  :)