As you know, the kids and I moved North to Washington so that I could attend school (more on that another day) - and moving is a royal Pain In The Ass.  You have to change schools.... done and done.  The Boy LOVES his new school and his teacher - which is the *first* time he's had a successful attempt at public school.  Winna winna chicken dinna'.  (see... spelling be dammed, right?)

The Girl LOVES her new pre-school as well... but she generally just loves everything and everyone... and at her recent 'conference' they told me she's a "joy" in the classroom, she "loves to dance" and when I asked if she was bossy - they said she was the only girl who wasn't bossing kids around.
Winna Winna chicken dinna'..... also:  nothing like her mother, clearly.

School for me has had it's own challenges... not the least of which was our two week trip to Influenzaville and my own personal time spent in Head Lice Hell:  Winter *was* actually my college term of discontent.
Sigh.

Moving means changing your bills and your license and car tags and ..... doctors.

The kids have always gone to the same pediatrician, which was a pretty big deal to me.  When I was a kid we moved... a lot.  I went to over half a dozen schools in four states, so I never had that "I've been best friends with this person since pre-school" moment"... and I always wanted that for the kids.  (Having said that, the Internet has brought back many people from my childhood that *thrills* me.)  So, I tried to pick high rated doctors and good schools and blah blah blah... so that my kids would 'grow up' with the same people in their lives.... and moving meant I had to give all that up.

So, I had to find a new pediatrician in Washington and because there was "nothing wrong", we had to wait for them to have their "Well Child Check-Up" until closer to their birthdays.  When we were leaving Oregon, I took them into their doctor to make sure they were up to date on their shots for public schools, and at that appointment they told me that The Boy doesn't need any shots until like 2 or 3 more years, but I knew The Girl would be due one on her 5th birthday.  Every parent knows that shots appointments are *the worst*. 

In the great To Vaccinate or Not Vaccinate Debate... I have always erred on the side of thought that I am *not* a doctor in spite of being obsessed with ER for it's full eight year run.  So, when The Boy was born I asked the pediatrician:  did you give these to your kids?  Did you separate them?  And then I just did the shots they advised and moved on.

I'm *that* parent..... I do what I'm told.
If a cop pulls you over and tells you to get our of your car:  just get our your damn car.
If there's a stop sign: stop your car and don't roll through.
If your doctor tells you to vaccinate:  just do it.

I'm also BIG on "early intervention."  At 18 months, I told the doctor to test The Boy for Autism, because I knew that early intervention is key and that if you catch it early you can really work against it with therapy, etc.  I didn't *think* he had it - but again... I'm not a doctor, so I wanted him tested.   So they tested him and he was fine.  I then had him tested *again* at age three and evaluated by one of the best Autism specialists in Oregon... again:  he was fine.
Winna Winna chicken dinna'.

I've never wanted to hide my head in the sand.... right or wrong, fat or thin.... you made a sign to sell your house and you wind up being seen and judged by an entire *world*.... okay: you face it head on.
You take the lemonade of your husband finding greener pastures in a 22 years pants... and you face facts, own your part of it,... and you move the fcuk on.
You find yourself in a media storm.... and you hold on.  You hold on to your values and to what you know is right and wrong... and you don't lose your shit and expose your ex and his extremely young girlfriend to the vile media.... because that's only more damage and hurt and pain, and it's revengeful.

Revenge doesn't rain healthy kids.
Hate doesn't breed love and whole relationships.
Anger shatters already fractured families......

So I held on, sometimes by mere threads.... and I made it through, because I never compromised me.
Or at least I hope that's what I did.... at this point, I'm not so sure.

Do what you're told.
Listen to professionals:  take their advice.
Do the RIGHT thing.... always.

Since The Boy was two, he's had the same..... 'issue's'.
I would go to the doctor with the same laundry list of complaints - appointment after appointment and year after year.  It was.... he'll grow out of this... try that  (we did) - or go to this doctor.... we did.
I never got any answers.... and nothing ever changed.

This appointment though..... at the new pediatrician, was different.

The Boy was alllll kinds of stressed out about getting shots - driving me *Crazy* about needles and shots.... he barely slept the night before even though I assured him that he *wasn't* getting any shots, only Sister was. 

The Girl went first and she blazed through with flying colors.... she's articulate, she tap-danced for the doctor, she's the height and weight of your average nine year old:  happy 5th birthday!!!!! lol
and .... she got her shot.

The Boy, however, was a different and still unfolding story.

I started off with my usual, standard, everysinglevisit list of things that I have "concerns" about.
The doctor just kind of started at me for a second, head cocked slightly to one side.
He asked the The Boy to do a few things... looked at this, then looked at that..... aside from personal issue's I don't want to broadcast on the internet (but if you're friends with me, then you probably know what these issue's ARE and how HARD I tried to solve them for the last 8 years......) - but, most notably The Boy has one foot that turns in.

This foot has always turned in.  He always sat in the "w" shape in pre-school.  
They said.... he would grow out it.

So now at nine I'm freakingthefcukout because the leg still turns him, and it hits the other toe as he walks and he's...... slow.

He doesn't run very fast.
Sister is much, much faster at four years younger.

So, Dr. Tall (not his name), say's this:
"First we're going to do a urine sample.  We're looking for organ function and diabetes.
Second, we're going to order a set of x-ray's, we're going to look at the hips and make sure that they are lateral and that there aren't any issue's there forcing one leg to turn in.
Third, we're going to do blood work to check organ and body functions and for diabetes again."

Umm.... ok.  Sure. Do whatever you want.  Run whatever test you want.

"Then.... we're going to book [The Boy] in for a sedated MRI and get an appointment with a Neurologist, because I don't think any of those above are what is 'wrong', and we're going to need to do further testing."

Umm.... okay, no problemo.
I've had this kid tested for everything and they always say he's "fine".... so - cool, more tests.  No worries.

Of course now The Boy is hysterical because now it's viles and viles of blood and they can't find a vein for the long time and they are just digging around his arm with the butterfly needle.... and I'm holding him on lap and trying not to cry and I look over and The Girl had stepped up next to Brother and is holding and patting his hand and telling him to be brave..... Best Sister Ever.

In that moment I realized that no one is ever holding *my* hand in these situations telling me to be brave.
Dammit.

A few days later A Call came.... no diabetes and all organs appear to function just fine. From the Urine.
Then later Another Call came.... no diabetes and all organs appear to function just fine. From the Blood.
And, the Hips are fine, the x-ray shows lateral hips with no abnormalities that would turn The Boy's foot in.
Oh, and here's your dates for the MRI and Neurologist to look further at things.

Yup... cool..... no worries.  
May be he will 'grow out' of these things..... 

Then, the day after my birthday, The Call came and a voice on the other end of the phone said:
"The doctor sent your x-rays out for further review and an affirmative diagnoses for Spina Bifida has come back."

I'm sorry.... what?  
Did you say... SPINA BIFIDA?

"Yes."

So, we're going forward with the MRI and the neurologist.....?

There is a slight pause and then the voice say's, "Well, yes.... you are booked in for the MRI, but you're not seeing a neurologist, you're seeing a neurosurgeon, and their specialty is Spina Bifida.  The expected outcome is surgery."

And again.... I feel like I'm tethered to the ground only by mere threads.
How does this shit keep happening to me?
To my kids?
Have we not gone through enough.....?  
Ya'll don't even *know* about how The Boy went blind in each eye once and has already had TWO lens replacement surgeries..... 
They weathered the divorce and all the chaos and moving.....

We're settled and in new schools and doing well... and The Boy is telling me he loves his life.
Which... I haven't heard that in *years*.......

And now.... The Boy has Spina freaking Bifida?

There are day's when I sit and think about anything and everything I have ever done in my life that was wrong or bad or rude.... and I wonder just *how much* nicer of a person I have to be.
How much kinder?
How much more *generous* do I need to be.....?
WHEN will whatever 'karma' I've made ... be *finally* paid off??????
for fcuks sake.  WHEN?

As Jenny B once said, "I swear if I didn't watch all this shit happen to you, I would NEVER believe it."
Sad but true......

Who makes a sign to sell her house and winds up on TV for it?
Who loses everything, every penny, her house and her property to infidelity?
Who got her vagina 'sewn shut' but a doctor?
Who's kid goes blind in one eye at 3 and then again 5 years old?
Who's kid get's diagnosed with Spina Bifida at 9 years old?

THIS GIRL.
But this isn't about *me*.... even though, it always feels like it's my fault somehow.
And I feel guilty somehow... I *always* do whatever the doctor say's.  
I've *always* been open to finding whatever is 'wrong' and taking whatever steps are needed to 'fix' it.
So.... HOW is this happening *now*?

More over.... why does this have to happen to my sweet, wonderful Boy.
But it has.... and now the concern, and the thought currently held, is that the foot turns in due to nerve damage and bigger questions loom in regards to continued use of that leg/foot as he get's older:  because he's already 'dragging' it a bit.
Sigh.

I don't know much about Spina Bifida, and we're not sure where he lands within it's 'spectrum'.  I read that 10- 20% of the population has it and doesn't know it and it doesn't usually "affect" a lot of people.  However, I also know that we have three *concrete* symptoms that are Spina Bifida related, and we know there is already some nerve damage.... so we are *not* in that 'lucky' 10-20%.  We're just not sure how much damage has been done and to where.  I've already been on the phone with the counselor The Boy was talking to.

I'm crushed.
I feel like these things keep happening because of me... and how unfair it is that bad crap keeps happening to my kids... I can usually take the world throws at me.... but .... I wish things were different for them.

I don't know anything.
I don't know what the future holds.
I don't know what's going to happen..... I'm guessing MRI and then surgery? 
I'm hoping and praying that physical therapy will help his foot.....?

And we haven't told him yet..... so if you see us, if you know us... don't say anything.  We're going to wait for the Neurosurgeon to help us with that.  

I'm tired.
I'm tired of holding on onto threads.
I'm tired of hurting.
I'm tired of .... always living in a world where I'm waiting for the 'other shoe' to drop.
No more trips to the Beach, that's for sure... lol.

If nothing else the last two years have taught me that the *hardest* part of being a Mom is constantly trying to make the best of the very worst of things..... and this, well.... this certainly feels like it's the worst of thing.
Right.....?  
This HAS to be the worst of things.

Good news for my kids is that while I'm not a doctor, I'm certainly a master 'vodka maker' with all the lemonade life has been raining down on us......
I'll find a way to pay for therapy....
I'll find the money to put him in theater, which he loves and he's great at.
Because he'll need those things, he'll need to be doing things he's good at to balance out what's going on with his body.
I'll find ways to 'tether' him to the ground so he still feels confident and proud.
So that he'll grow up knowing he's more than than the things that have wrong wrong around him and with him.
I feel like we already have  two year head start ..... kind of. lol.
So there's that.  At least I'm good at something.
Winna Winna...... 

When life gives you lemonade.... make vodka.
When life gives you Spina Bifida.... well.... I guess we're going to figure that out.

Wow... where has the time gone?  ANOTHER month has flown by and I'm doing a shitty job of staying on top of blogging... I really am sorry.  Life is *incredibly* busy, other than that... I have no excuse. lol

So, as some of you might remember, The Girl's birthday was this week and, as per usual, I was taking this one pretty hard.... As The Boy has gotten older I've always tempered my sadness with the knowledge that The Girl was "still a baby"/still in her "toddler years".... well, turning FIVE punches a big ole' hole in that one.
Sigh.

FIVE????
My sweet, sweet baby girl who I begged and pleaded and bargained with God that I would stay pregnant and get to keep her... when we hadn't kept the others.... her big moon shaped face with toothy smile, her silly faces and her hair that JUST. WON'T. GROW... dammit. lolol.  She's everything I dreamed and more and being my 'last baby', this turning five stuff was wearing me down a little.

As always, we set out the day before her birthday to make a memory of the "last day" she would be four, and seeing as how the kids and Hail Mary love the beach so much, it seemed like the obvious choice.  For *once* we actually got out the door on time:  beach bag with fresh towels, swim suits and clothes to change into, flip flops and camera... oh, because it's freaking OREGON:  clouds and rain.  check and check.

This is nothing unusual for my kids - we've been to the beach *plenty* of times in the rain and they could careless.  They run and play in the sand and rain and so... off we went.