drive thrus...

I've always appreciated efficiency and convenience, things that are designed to make life easier.  Especially now that I am a mom of two.  Carting around a car seat with a growing munchkin and keeping track of a runaway four-year-old is no picnic.  Sometimes it is easier to stay at home rather than brave the outside world.  

Thankfully, someone invented drive-thrus.  Getting goods without unbuckling and re-buckling two little ones is a gold mine.  Yeah, McDonald's and Starbucks are great, but even better are places like dry cleaners, banks, pharmacies, and Papa Murphy's for Friday pizza and movie night.  I can basically run all my errands without leaving the car.  They are pure genius.  

A little thing that I'm relishing in as we navigate life with two boys is drive thrus.  Now if only Target and the grocery store would get one board.  Oh well, there is still online shopping and curb-side pick up.      

i am back...

After over a three year hiatus, I am coming back to my blog space.  A lot has happened in those three years and instead of living in the past and filling in the blanks of what has happened, I will move forward and share stories and thoughts about the present. 

My purpose is the same, to share the little and big things that make up our life as the Groettums.  

Thanks for reading!

birthday boy

Dear Calvin,

This day brings up so many emotions each year, which seems crazy since you have only been alive for two.  It feels like we are on a roller coaster and we are never quite sure which turn will come next.  But, no matter the turns this ride takes with each of your birthdays, there is one emotion that we are sure to feel each November 21st...JOY.  

You have brought so much pure joy to our lives and have ultimately made us better people because we know and love you.

Your dad and I love you for so many reasons. Here are just a few...

~ You never stop running or moving as quickly as you can.  Your speediness keeps us on our toes and contributes to our fitness level. 

~ You are insanely sweet.  In between your fast escapades, you always find a quick minute to give us a hug, sit on our lap, or say our name with your sweet little voice.  We have to enjoy these moments when we can as they are gone within the blink of an eye.  

~   You have an amazing curious nature.  Everything you find, you must touch and figure out how it works.  The more gadgets the better for your little mind to take everything in and memorize its inner workings.

~ You continue to lean toward independence rather than leaning on us and you have been this way since your entrance into the world.  You communicate clearly when we are doing too much and you would rather complete a task on your own.    

~ Your new found freedom has increased all of your senses and you are hyper aware of your surroundings.  It is like a new world has opened up for you and it is amazing to watch you explore.  

~ You are always happy, like always.  Yes, you have your moments where you are upset, but those moments are few and far between.  You wake up smiling and giggling and you go to sleep the same way.  

~ Besides the word no (read above about independence), your favorite word is outside, although you say it like "outshide" with a slight increase in your voice at the end like you are asking us for permission.  It doesn't matter if it is 7:30am and you have on only your pajamas or if it is right after dinner and it is pitch black outside.  We love your adventurous spirit!  

~ You love your people.  So much so that you run through a list of their names multiple times a day.  You can't say all of their names quite yet, but you always feel complete when any of those you call yours are with you.

Happy birthday sweet, sweet boy.  We love you more than words could ever describe.  Each day you brighten our lives and bring joy to our hearts.  I can't wait to celebrate with many (unfortunately not all) of your people this weekend and spoil you to make you feel like the special little boy that you are.  

Love, Momma & Dadda

  

closing a chapter

November 8th snuck up on us this year.  It's hard to believe that it has been two years since our first "son" and furry best friend was taken from us.  I wrote about the tragedy here and here.  It proves to be a hurdle we must leap over each November before we can get to the joy and happiness of our son's birthday.  It's like a cloud that rains on our lives around this date and we are never quite sure how it will make us feel until it's over our heads.  

This year, we almost forgot about it and it almost slipped by without any recognition...almost.  

We are starting to do weekly date nights and on our first official night away, we were enjoying each other's company with a few cocktails and yummy appetizers.  Andy brought up Chewy and so smoothly mentioned that we should spread his ashes.  We have been meaning to do this since the day we brought them into our home two days after our friend left from this world.  As you can imagine, life got busy and we never got around to it.  Plus, I think both of us secretly liked having him in the house.  Each time this had been brought up in the past, one of us found an excuse for it not to work out and life continued.  

Somehow this time seemed different.  This felt like the right time to say our final official goodbye. 

 It was only this morning that I woke up and realized that it was the two year anniversary of the exact day that we lost our buddy.  Why wouldn't we do it on this day?  It made complete sense.  So, we carried out our plan by heading down to the Cherry Creek by our house.  We used to bring Chewy there to play fetch and frolic in the water.  On the walk over, we reminisced our fondest memories and all enjoyed the sun shining down on us.  We made our way down the path and towards the water.  As we looked out, there were two ducks splashing around and also enjoying the sunshine.  It was perfect.  

We got right to it starting with Andy reading a eulogy he wrote two years ago.  It was beautiful, there were tears, but there was also Calvin in the background quacking at the ducks and yelling out at each car that passed on the nearby road.  We couldn't help but laugh at our silly little boy in what otherwise would have been a very serious moment.  We took turns throwing the ashes in the creek and spread some on the sand that Chewy loved to roll in after he was soaking wet.  We each took a private moment to say our final goodbyes and let out all the sadness and pain we had been feeling.  Calvin quickly reminded us that we had other obligations as he started to make his way into the creek fully clothed.  So, we headed home and both felt a lightness where there had been heaviness.  

The past couple weeks has felt like we have been able to shed our dead weight that has been heavily weighing on our hearts and minds for two years.  It feels like we are suddenly a new family with lighter hearts and minds.  Calvin is a new kid, almost unrecognizable from just a few short weeks ago.  We are different too.  It is hard to put my finger on what it is exactly, but I think it is the invisible pain that had settled in to our bodies.  Slowly building up week after week and eventually just living there, almost too much to bare at times and at other times tolerable at best.  Now, I feel as though I am walking around bouncing on a cloud of happiness.  The fog has lifted and I can see clearly in front of me.  I actually feel happy and almost carefree...almost.         

We closed a chapter today that has been left painfully open for two years.  We will never completely understand Chewy being taken from us too early, before he got a chance to meet Calvin, but we said goodbye today in hopes of getting to the next chapter.  We don't know what the next chapter will say, but we hope that today will get us closer to being open to consider possibly a new dog someday.  We are dog people and know that we want a dog in our life.  We have even made it to Dumb Friends League a few times in the last year.  Here's hoping that the little thing of closing this chapter will lead us to an open heart to let another furry friend into our lives in the not so distant future.    

For now, RIP Chewbacca...

groettum family update

Wow, it's been awhile.  This feels completely foreign - sharing and writing.  I have felt a multitude of emotions as it relates to blogging over the last 8 months, but the overarching one being that I didn't have the capacity or strength to speak about my emotions and still be honest with my feelings.  I'm not even sure I was able to admit them to myself, let alone others.

I finally feel that I have some space in my heart to open up and blog and I also have something worthy to talk about.  

Let's start with a little family update...

Andy

Andy recently finished his Education Leadership program and now works as an Assistant Principal at South Middle School in the same district (Aurora Public Schools) we have worked in since moving to Colorado.  It is proving to be an extremely challenging and rewarding position all at the same time.  As he is getting used to being a "boss" and working long hours, he is also supporting me in a similar venture.  

 

  

Lindsey

As for me, I have taken on a Master's program following in Andy's footsteps studying Education Leadership at the University of Denver.  I started in June and will be finished in December 2015.  The program is a combination of online work, projects, and face-to-face classes some Saturdays.  I am enjoying every moment, but it has proven to be challenging to balance all the roles I play; mom, wife, teacher, student.  Most people think we are crazy for taking on a new job and graduate school at the same time as also managing a family, but somehow we are making it work and actually succeeding!   

and now for the real star of the show..

Calvin    

This update is where the real story is and where the inspiration for my ability to write and share again for this blog comes from.  Since I last wrote, we honestly have been in a bit of a crisis mode.  It all started in February with one of Calvin's hospitalizations and has seemingly gone downhill from there.  Andy and I both missed double digit days of work last school year in the matter of months due to one illness after another and a few more hospitalizations.  Just when we felt like life was returning to normal, something else would pop up.  From ear infections to pneumonia to numerous viruses to hand foot mouth disease to the flu, we experienced more than what it felt like we had the capacity to handle.  Although day care was good for Calvin in some ways (amazing teachers, hanging out with lots of kids his age), it also was bad in the sense that every germ that lived on the surfaces infected his little body and wreaked havoc on our lives.

We learned a bit from last school year and decided to hire a nanny for this school year and it could not be going better.  We hired one of Andy's former students (I told you about her here) who is now in college to become a teacher.  She shows up every day ready to chase Calvin around and go on new adventures together.  In a short amount of time, she already feels like family and our hearts and minds are at ease each day when we head out to work.  Not only that, but Calvin is doing better than ever with the one-on-one care he gets each day with "Sigh" as he calls her.    

 

Alright, I'm getting to the best news of all time, finally...

We go to see Calvin's Pulmonologist every few months to check in on his progress with NEHI.  Since the last visit, we also saw a GI Specialist in order to determine if Calvin needed a feeding tube or if there were other options to try in order to get him to gain weight.  He has been taking a medicine twice a day that's job is to increase his appetite.  We have also added a calorie booster to his diet called Benecalorie, which has 330 calories in each dose (he gets one or two of these each day in addition to other foods).  In the matter of two months, these changes helped Calvin gain 3 whole pounds!  This brought him from 0% on the growth charts to almost 15%...this is HUGE!  This alone made our day and had us jumping for joy. With each visit, the respiratory therapist comes in to check his oxygen levels.  They check on his current oxygen rate, at room air, and sometimes at a lower rate of oxygen.  During the test, which lasted over 30 minutes, Calvin never went below 95%.  This is how you or I would measure as we breath normally with no oxygen.  What?!  We were continuing to do a mental happy dance. 

We could have stopped here, gone home, and been completely elated and satisfied.  But, then there was more good news.  Because of Calvin's oxygen level test, the doctor thought that moving forward he could go off of day oxygen and only have oxygen at night when he slept.  The doctor continued as if this was normal news and it was no big deal.  As if she hadn't just uttered the words we had been longing to here for almost two years.  I had to stop her to clarify and to just have a moment to process the words she was saying...."Excuse me, what did you just say?  What does this mean?  No tubes, no oxygen tanks, no chasing a very fast little boy who has always been tethered?"  We continued to talk through the logistics and how she wanted us to follow up with her and it was overwhelming, but in a good way.  It was all starting to seem like it was too good to be true.  Then, it continued to blow our socks off and actually get better.  

Before we left, I asked the same two questions I ask at every visit.  As I awaited the answer that I was so used to hearing, I was surprised when I got a different one.  

Question: "Can we go to the mountains?"

Answer: "Yes."

Question: "Can we fly?"

Answer: "Yes."  

Words are hard to come up with to explain everything that was going through my head.  The best word I have come up with so far is life-changing.  Seriously, think about the magnitude of that word for a minute because I'm not using it lightly.  Life-changing.  All three of our lives changed in that moment, in that doctor's office and will forever be changed.  The world that we have known as parents thus far has been quite different from other parents we know and right now it is being turned upside down or right side up, depending on how you look at it.     

Calvin has been on oxygen 24/7 for the majority of his life and our "normal" has been multiple hospital stays, incredible daily worry for our son's health and well-being, and a tether that consisted of a heavy oxygen tank and tubes everywhere.  We are well-versed in medical terms and our vocabulary now includes the following that we did not know previously: 

oxygen tanks including D, E, and M varieties
oxygen tank necessities (regulator, wrench)
oxygen flows (hi-flow, 1/4 Liter-1 1/2 Liters)
concentrator
oxygen accessories (cannulas, tender grips, water tubes, 50' and 25' oxygen tubing)
nebulizer ("nebs" for short)
a multitude of steroids (Albuterol, Quvar, Flovent, etc)
oximeter

Andy and I have both had our struggles with our "normal", but for the most part we have taken everything in stride and done what we had to do, which was to be strong for Calvin.  We rarely worried about ourselves and have essentially been living in a war zone, not sure what each day would bring - terror or peace.  

I don't write all of this to say that our tragedy, stress, and worry is worse than any other parent's tragedy, stress, or worry.  We all feel these feelings as it relates to our children.  It's natural as parents to feel this way.  I am writing this as my own reflection of where we have been and where I see our future possibilities and also as an opportunity to let people in as a way to get a glimpse of our journey.  This is my truth and my journey as a mother.  

I recently had an appointment with my doctor who I hadn't seen since my 40 week appointment before Calvin was born.  She started the appointment by asking me what seemed like a simple question.  

She asked,  "How is it being a mom?"  

I'm not quite sure she was ready for how I answered this question compared to how other women must answer it.  I started to say a standard answer like, "It's great," or maybe even something a little more honest like, "It's good."  But it didn't feel right to give an answer like that when I couldn't say it with complete honesty.  I also had a quick mental moment with myself giving myself permission that if I said out loud how I was really feeling about my motherhood journey, if I was totally honest in this moment, it didn't mean that I loved Calvin any less or that I didn't love my role as a mother.  So instead of giving the standard and dishonest answer, I found myself saying, "It's been hard...really hard."  I explained everything from the very beginning.  From the first hospitalization to the NEHI diagnosis to feeding struggles, more hospitalizations and illnesses than we can count.  I told all of it. I had never explained all of it from start to finish like that...so completely.  I realized that I had just been sharing small snippets with those closest to us as things would happen.  By the time I was done, all I could say in my head was, "Wow, that's a lot for any person to go through."  My doctor sort of looked stunned and emulated the thoughts going through my head. This seemed like a new revelation for me, like I was looking at myself and my parenthood journey as the sun shown through clouds while the fog was still clearing.  I could actually see the line that divided our yesterdays from our tomorrows.  

  To say that we have hoped for the day that Calvin would go off of day oxygen and be more free is an understatement.  It was difficult to never be sure of when it would happen and it almost seemed like it was still so far away.  I have spent Calvin's whole life looking at other parents with kids who weren't tied to an oxygen tank with pure envy and sometimes even jealousy.  Those feelings aren't good ones for me and I didn't like myself when those thoughts crept into my mind.  I also didn't realize all of the freeing feelings that would come to all of us with this day finally arriving.  Not just the obvious feelings like how much easier it is to go outside of our house or how all three of us trip less each day over all of the tubing throughout our house.  These things are no surprise.  

The feelings that are emerging resemble hope.  Hope that the dreams we had for our family can actually now come true, like for reals.  Hope that "someday" is actually here and it's today.  No mountains and no flying seem like small sacrifices to make for the health of your child, but in reality, those restrictions have made us feel like prisoners in our own lives.  Most things that we enjoy doing and that have defined us in our relationship involve going to the mountains or flying, but really just adventure in general.  To not be able to share that with our son for the two years he has (almost) been alive has been crushing to say the least.  We haven't felt like ourselves and we have felt very trapped.  

With all of these hopes and dreams in our heads and our inability to hide our excitement, we are also completely realistic and although we are basking in our current reality, we know that it could all be taken away in an instant and go back to our recent past reality...tubes, tanks, and all.  The pesky germs that live during cold and flu season may invade our toddler's body and crush our hope.  As the eternal optimists that we are, we won't let that get us down because, for today, Calvin is breathing well without oxygen during the day and thriving in all areas where he has usually struggled.  I can't say this is any little thing, but this is (as I mentioned before and I haven't thought of another word that describes it better) life-changing.  We will continue taking life one day at a time, but we will also follow "doctor's orders" and plan some family adventures in the near future.     

For now, this is our today...

date nights: january

As we welcomed a new year with our arms stretched out wide, I thought it would be good for us to have some focus for the upcoming year.  Don't misread this because I am not talking about New Year's Resolutions.  Although the ideas are similar, it helps me to think of them more positively if I think of them more as goals or hopes.  

One of the hopes we have for 2014 that is at the top of our list is having monthly date nights.  We also decided that we would switch off the planning duties each month so that we are both taking part in keeping the love alive!

Our first go at this was a couple weeks ago and our original plan included a babysitter, an outing to the art museum, and dinner plans.  Sounds fun, right?!  We were so excited!  As it got closer though, we started adding the cost for this in our head and it seemed to us that we could still do something together to gain the quality time we needed, but in a way that was easier on our pocketbook.  

Hence, our first date night was a stay-at-home date!  I wish I would have gotten some pictures, but we were having too much fun!  

Calvin makes it easy for this type of date to happen because he goes to bed so early (6:30pm).  Once he went to bed, we put on our PJ's, poured some wine, and began preparations for dinner.  The wine wasn't just any wine.  Andy had found a chardonnay that we tasted on our trip to Napa.  I don't typically drink chardonnays, but this one is extremely yummy...check it out for yourself, Frank Family.  Not only is the wine delicious, but reminiscing on our experience at the winery was a great way to kick off our special evening, especially since we haven't and won't travel anywhere new any time soon.  

Our dinner was also out of this world including goat cheese with crackers for an appetizer, and lobster with au gratin potatoes for our meal.  We had homemade caramel fondue ready for dessert, but we were just too stuffed, so we saved it for another day.  

The rest of the evening consisted of cuddling on the couch watching Netflix.  We are seriously addicted to all of the TV shows, currently Orange is the New Black, but that is for another post.  Then, to finish off the evening was an early bed time (my favorite).   

Our night was so simple, yet just what we needed to get reconnected.  I am looking forward to what each month's date has in store for us and I love that we can still achieve the goal without digging into our pockets too deep.  After children enter your lives, it is easy to forget where you started.  Monthly date nights are just a little thing we can commit to in order to keep our love alive and remember that it all started with just the two of us.    

bidding 2013 adieu...

Dear 2013, 

Please don't take this personally or get offended, but I am really ready for you to end tonight.  Although I most definitely won't make it until midnight, I will be raising my champagne glass high in the air (around 10pm) to say goodbye to you and welcome your friend 2014.  

I won't go into specifics because I don't want to sound like a whiner or have you think that I am not appreciative of everything we have.  But, I will say that 2013 was one of the hardest years of my life thus far (and that is a lot considering you followed your buddy 2012, which was a doozy as well).  

Although 2013 you haven't been my favorite, I do have hope that you are preparing me for the greatness that is to be 2014.  I do still  have a bit of my positivity and optimism left inside of me and that gives me hope for what is to come. 

I can already feel the clouds lifting and the sun shining on the other side.  I won't spend too much time making New Years Resolutions that I won't keep, but 2014 isn't without some high-hoping expectations of mine (and I think they are pretty realistic).  Instead of resolutions, here are some of my hopes for 2014.

I hope...

~Calvin's oxygen will continue to be decreased

~Andy and I will sneak away to the mountains to remember why we choose to live in the amazing state of Colorado

~I can find time and peace to return back to blogging

~maybe, possibly, Andy and I could get away outside of Colorado to remember our curious travel spirit

2013, I do appreciate what you have done for me.  You have shown me how truly strong I am and that despite all that you threw at me, I am still hopeful.  I do ask that you pass this list on to 2014 as you go tonight.  It's just a little thing that you could do for me.  Pretty please?!   

Cheers, Lindsey