I’ve hesitated to teach my children the proper names for anatomical parts because at a young age they don’t understand that some things shouldn’t be shouted in public or shared in casual conversation with strangers. The following story made my withholding the information all worthwhile.

There are a couple things I never got around to posting about before Simon came along, but I wanted to blog-ument (made up word that I love to use) them.

The first was moving Miriam into her “big girl bed.” We wanted the transition to take place before Simon’s arrival so they would be separate events in her mind and she wouldn’t feel like she was being replaced in the crib.

It didn’t go so well at first. In fact, it was heartbreaking. She seemed scared and confused and wouldn’t stay in the bed. For the first couple weeks we were moving her from the floor by the bedroom door to her bed after she fell asleep. She occasionally still gets out of her bed at night and lays by the door, but she doesn’t cry anymore and there is definite progress. I think she also enjoys the freedom of getting up out of bed in the morning whenever she wakes up. And Richard and I love to see her walk out of her room with her crazy bed-head of hair and greet us in the mornings.

Our saving grace when it came to surviving this ordeal was her blankie and thumb. She can handle anything with her two self-soothing necessities.

Simon Sterling Bird. Sterling was my great-grandfather’s name. I came into the world in a big hurry on March 24th. Well, once it was actully time to come I had second thoughts and made my mom work for it. I weighed 7lbs 7oz at birth but now I’m down to 6lbs 14oz.

Just like my siblings before me I have jaundice and reflux. So I spent a few days as a glow worm on the bili-blanket. I even had to have an upper GI test done to make sure my digestive anatomy was developed properly. (Those are big words for a six-day-old baby.) Which it was. I will probably just go through lots of laundry and gain weight slowly. That’s just the way we Bird babies come.

My dad got Strep throat and a sinus infection two days after I was born and my mom got sick too. It’s been a bit rough around here. But I’m lucky to have helpful grandmas and my parents have lots of other helpful friends and family. Things are going much better. Even my sister Miriam is adjusting well. No regression whatsoever…

I just heard about the Adjustment Bureau. I’m so relieved. Is this the branch of the government that comes into your home following the birth of your child to assist in the family’s adjustment period? Do they manage household tasks like the endless laundry from a newborn with reflux, the three meals required to feed the other children, and even return phone calls to well-wishers? I imagine they have a team of experts in child psychology to help meet the needs of the displaced 16 month old. And it would be nice to have medical providers on hand to answer all questions related to postpartum, infancy and other unrelated illnesses that family members might inconveniently contract during the adjustment period. Someone give me the number so I can sign up! (I hope to return to blogging following said adjustment period.)

Let me be straight.

Before yesterday I was a true skeptic of chiropractors. I did not trust them, I never went to one and never planned to.

A couple months ago I was having pregnancy related hip issues and my OB referred me to a chiropracter. It must have been written all over my face my feelings about “those doctors.” She reassured me that he wasn’t a quack and that she trusted him. I took the business card but had no intention of following through. I really did not believe he could help. Or maybe he would help but it would mean I would have to have weekly appointments the rest of my life and I would be totally reliant on his “tricks” to live a new normal.

Last Friday after a week of enduring brief but excruciating pains in my back, ribs and shoulder on my right side I called my OB’s office in desperation. The nurse took matters into her own hands and before I knew it I had an appointment with a chiropractor. Honestly, I was so exhausted and miserable I was willing to try anything. The pain was the worst at night and in the midst of a sound sleep I would be shocked back to wakefulness, and bring Richard along with me as I inadvertently exclaimed in pain. I moved back and forth from my bed to the recliner to try to get comfortable.

Enough complaining, I said I was through with it and I meant it.

So yesterday I went to my appointment. I was very nervous. Where was this man going to touch me? Was it going to hurt? I was literally sweating. But he was professional, he talked me through everything asked my permission before applying his “techniques” and explained in medical jargon what was going on. I was impressed with his style and methods but not convinced it was going to make any differene. But it did feel good.

I slept better last night than I have in 10+ nights. There were no shooting pains and I even slept on my right side which I haven’t done in just as many nights. The only thing that brought me back to wakefulness was my cramped and overactive bladder.

Some might say that my pains were psychosomatic and I had just enough hope that the chiropractor would work, that he did. Maybe so, but nonetheless it worked. Frankly I’m still a little skeptical myself and I am just waiting for things to get bad again. But I’ve been converted enough, that if they do I will return to his healing hands.

I consider this a lesson that came as a huge blessing. As they say, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.

It was a bad day. I don’t have much room to complain because I’m not even the mother who took one child to a doctors appointment and then another child to an urgent care center and the emergency room. But I was involved with the incident that necessitated the visit to the emergency room and it involved a lot of blood and a lot of crying, by all who witnessed it. Fortunately, I think the little guy will be okay. (Despite having a broken nose, possible concussion and fat lip.)

There was also the incident (much less traumatic but much more frustrating) of a little boy who decided to relieve himself without ever lifting the lid of the toilet. Hours passed before I discovered the mess.

After dinner Miriam spilled a bag of M&M’s all over the kitchen floor. I could feign ignorance and say she ate them without my knowing, but alas, I saw her eating them one by one and made no effort to intervene.

All of these things could have been better tolerated (rocking a badly injured 20 month old, wiping down a bathroom, and cleaning up candy from the floor) if I wasn’t so huge in the mid-section.

I think it’s time for bed.

It has come to my attention that I occasionally expose Richard on the blog in a less than ideal light. While I am totally secure in our relationship, and I know that Richard knows I mean no harm, it isn’t fair for me to lead blog readers to believe he is less than he is.

He is a good man. I do not like to boast about Richard’s talents and capabilities on my blog, or anywhere for that matter. But my lack of sharing his strengths does not mean they don’t exist or that I don’t appreciate them. And since I don’t really believe anyone else thinks they don’t exist, I am not compelled to share them regularly. Those who know him well know he is good.

I am lucky to have him. I am grateful for him. I love him very much. He is good to me despite my occasional implications to the contrary.

Enough said.