"Failure to Thrive"

Tonight at our dinner table was like dinner at most dinner tables of families with toddlers.  Lots of "no's" and "one more bites" and "no you can't have candy corn for dinner." (Doesn't everyone say that?) On tonight's menu...chili.  It's one food I can usually get Noah to eat.  But like any two year old, just because he liked it last time it was served, it holds no guarantee for tonight's meal.  And so, like any good mom, I loaded it up with cheese, tried to hide the tomatoes, and held my breath.  It was touch and go there for a few minutes, I may have had to do a head lock for the first bite to convince him, that yes indeed he actually did like chili and should at least try a bit, but finally we convinced him it was good!  There were cheers...no literally, cheers with each bite, and there was candy corn rewards at the end, and Tom and I breathed a sigh of relief for one more meal down.

Unfortunately, not every meal is this successful.  Not every headlock reminds my son that he likes a food and not every meal gets eaten.  What you don't know is that a few weeks ago his doctor was forced to give him the label "Failure to Thrive" after not gaining any weight over 3 months and once again falling off the growth curve.  And that's what has started this crazy meal time excitement in our home.

It was a well visit like any other, wrestling two kids, praying they didn't catch the leftover germs in the waiting room, and pulling out all the bells and whistles to keep a 2 year old and 9 month old entertained.  You know, totally normal stuff.  Then after the pleasantries were shared we stripped the kids and headed to the scale.  Jonah went first and weighed in at a whopping 18 pounds! Then Noah followed in at 21 lbs and 14 ounces....exactly what he had weighed 3 months prior.  I was concerned and waited for his doctor.  When she finally came in, we had the talk, and she said the words that no mother wants to hear...his diagnosis "Failure to Thrive."

And do you know what I heard??? Failure. Failure.. Failure...Failure...

Somehow despite my headlocks, Pediasures, beggings, pleadings, olive oil hiding attempts, my child had gained no weight and was deemed a failure, and therefore, as his mother, so was I.

And do you know what I did?? I cried.  For two days.  Every time I looked at that happy, smiling, crazy two year old who loved life, I cried.  Because somehow, despite my best efforts and intentions, somehow by these medical standards, the little boy I am totally crazy about wasn't "thriving."  That one stung.

And after a few days and multiple vials of blood drawn to rule every disease out there out, I pulled on my big girl pants and we began to seriously focus on fattening this little guy up.  Do you know I can make scrambled eggs with roughly 30 grams of fat in them?  I cook everything in butter or olive oil that I can.  If it doesn't have fat in it, Noah doesn't get to eat it.  (Well, that's mostly true.  He does get apple sauce since it's the only fruit he will eat.) I've searched the internets for high fat recipes and have unsuccessfully attempted to hide avocado in some foods too.  (Little stinker found me out...)

I did all of this, because that's what we mothers do.  We rise in the face of adversity. No one is going to call my kid a failure and get away with it.

Luckily, all of his blood work has come back normal and we have one final test coming up to rule out a highly improbable diagnosis of Cystic Fibrosis, and so we thank God for that.  But I've gotta tell you....it's exhausting.  All day long,  I'm adding fat grams in my head.  No more glasses of water, only milk. Racking up number of mini muffins he's had (with 2 grams of fat in each) Not caring if we've already had McDonald french fries this week.  He eats them and they are fatty.  Feeling beyond frustrated when he doesn't eat because not only is that normal toddler behavior annoying, it means I'm gonna have to try even harder at the next meal.

But today I needed to remind myself that even though our little miracle child isn't "thriving" in terms of his weight, he is thriving in so many other things.  There are just 4 letters left before Noah is able to identify each by name (H, Q, W, and Y in case you're wondering.) After not walking for so long, our little guy is not only running circles around us, he's mastering slides, stairs, and his Little Tikes car! He's a wiz at the "Find It" books and each day he's adding to his vocabulary.  He is loving, caring, funny, and an overall happy child.

And those things mean he is thriving! He's thriving at life. And you know what that makes me?? A pretty good mama.  Because I've got to be doing at least a few things right in raising such an awesome kid.  I needed to remind myself of that.

And maybe that's why I needed to write this.  Your child might not have the label of "Failure to Thrive," but maybe it's another label.  ADD, ADHD, LD....or maybe there is no label, but there certainly are struggles despite your best efforts.  To you moms out there (and to myself, too) Let's be a little kinder, a little gentler with ourselves today.  Let's remember that we are all doing our very best with these complicated creatures that have be entrusted to our care.  We will continue to fight and advocate for our children.  I will continue to fatten up every meal I can.  We will seek advice and read all that we can, but at the end of the day what matters most is that we loved.  That's what they will remember amidst their struggles, a mama that was there with them every step of the way.

Crumbs and fingerprints

Some days when I am in the middle of my day, I take a moment and think back to those delusional days of my first 30 years of what I thought life as a mom would be like.  The romanticized visions of playing with my kids, snuggling with a newborn at 3 am, and memory making makes me giggle.  Now don't get me wrong, there are still lots of memories made and snuggles too (even at 3 am when I'd much rather be sleeping than rocking a 9 month old), but there isn't a whole lot of romance or euphoric moments going on in those trenches. Yes, motherhood is glorious, but it is equal parts messy....very, very messy. 

This blog began to form in my brain earlier this week when in a moment of frustration as I was sweeping the kitchen floor for the 3rd time that MORNING (we hadn't even made it to lunch yet), I looked around to see ridiculous amounts of fingerprints mixed in with our monster window clings on the front door.  There were enough puffs on the floor to feed an army....well at least my army.  Noah's milk cup was dripping on the floor in the living room and Jonah was once again throwing all the magnetic letters back to the floor even though they had just been picked up.  I may have let out a frustrated little scream! The kids, well, they laughed and continued to make mayhem, and I swept up the floor and we continued on.  But later that night, after both boys were in bed, I looked at my living room that was full of toys and was really feeling frustrated.  No one told me that motherhood would be this messy.  So, so messy.

But honestly, the physical messes are just one thing.  Motherhood's messiness goes beyond poopy diapers and dumped plates on the floor.  Motherhood is messy at 3am and you can't stop the tears or get your child to sleep.  Motherhood is messy when despite your best efforts, your child still can't get back on the growth curve and is given the title of "failure to thrive."  Motherhood is messy when your child is hurting and there is nothing you can do to make it better.  There are messes like neglected husbands and careers that despite the fact you know they need some attention, you have found yourself completely drained and unable to squeeze out anything. 

So this week Tuesday, after a difficult Monday at the doctor's office with both of my boys, a sink full of dishes, floors to be swept for the hundredth time (or so it felt), and finger prints once again adorning my front door...I cried.  Ugly, messy tears.  I cried on and off all day.  "Motherhood is hard." I told a friend.  And we've all heard mothers before us claim, "It's the hardest thing they've ever done," but we don't believe them until we are in the trenches on those Tuesdays, stuck between the mundane and monotonous and the big, loud, and messy that we understand.

And do you know why Motherhood's messy job description is so hard???

Because of faces like these....

Because even though they are champion mess makers, they are worth every mess, too.  We get so frustrated with them, and then they smile at us, or finally say that word we've been working on for months, or take their first steps across the kitchen.  Suddenly, it doesn't matter that there are crumbs on the ground or fingerprints on windows because we are cheering with them and celebrating their successes! Or when we finally plop down on the couch to take a moment and they curl up in our laps and snuggle with us, as if to let us know they appreciate us and love us.

It's in those moments of snuggles, celebrations, and smiles that we get our strength to clean up one more mess.  To figure out one more recipe that maybe our child will finally eat.  We find the resolve to crawl out of bed at 3 am, because despite every expert's advice "cry it out" doesn't work for this little guy and sometimes you just need to see your mom, messy hair and bags under her eyes.

Then this morning the Beatitudes popped into my head....You know the "Blessed are the...., For they shall..." (See Matthew 5 for the text) But I noticed those who were called blessed were those who mourn, who are merciful, who make peace (can you believe a 2 year old and 9 month old already fight?), and who are persecuted.  Now I'm sure Christ wasn't specifically talking about moms in this passage, but it made me think about the old adage that "Anything hard is worth working for."  The easy road usually doesn't give the fulfillment and reward that the road with the difficult terrain brings to those of us who choose to travel it's hills and valleys. 

If motherhood wasn't so messy, so hard we wouldn't cry at preschool graduation or when our babies leave for college. If motherhood was easy, we wouldn't have awesome kids who stand up for what is right and know how to share.  If motherhood was easy, we wouldn't know that true sacrificial type love of Christ. 

SoBlessed are the moms, for they shall inherit the kingdom of God...one mess at a time.