It's going to be good

I'm not feeling nearly as despondant about "2" as I was with my last post. Right after her birthday, as if to say, "Don't you dare doubt me, Mom!" Keira hit a pretty important milestone. She saw herself in the mirror and laughed! Just to test it out, I put a big, yellow flower in her hair and, to my disbelief, raised her LEFT hand, almost immediately, to to her head to explore the image she saw in the mirror.

It could be a good year after all. Keira is at an age where, for the most part, she is so behind her same aged-peers, that I no longer compare. Rather than being dismayed that she's not walking and talking, I can be excited about the possibilities that are within her reach. Maybe this year she will make the "mmm" sound, hold her head up on her own, grasp and hold a toy, take a meal of solids by mouth, or reach for me when she wants to be picked up.

A few weeks back we had a monumental "first," of sorts. Keira's "button" (port for her feeding tube) got pulled out of her stomach. Turns out it was my fault. I hadn't been diligent about checking periodically to make sure that the balloon, inside her belly with to keep the device in place, was properly inflated with water. I'd let it get too low, so it popped out more easily. Left with a hole straight into her stomach, we stuck a catheter in to hold the hole open and rushed to Boise, where the GI supervised while I inserted a new button. No sweat. We purposely chose a button that we could insert on our own. Some others require a hospital visit for each incident like this. Yah, it seems a little weird that this sort of thing is no big deal to us. I guess that's a statement to how much we've seen Keira go through. In the ende, the end, the button is a pretty simple little device. Medicine is not altogether different than plumbing and carpentry, I imagine.

While we were at the office that day, we weighed K, who was nearly 22 pounds!! You've never seen cuter chubby legs in a miniskirt.

Jeff and I went out of town to attend a CMV policy conference last weekend. K was in good hands between my mom and aunt Shelly, but when we returned, it became clear that the separation from us was more disruptive to her than we had imagined it would be. For a week or so, she was really disregulated, startled easily, struggled more than usual with reflux, and responded little to her various therapies. A few weeks back, Keira started feeding therapy, and last week that therapist aptly described K as "the most calm tense little girl I've ever seen!"

I've been feeling really well. I can drive again, which is nice, and I've been spending a lot of time helping out at the boys' school since I'm not much use with Keira. I find that that get pretty wiped out if I try to have a "normal" day in terms of how much activity I do. However, I am noticing an awesome difference from my pre-surgery self. I find that I recover so much more quickly than I used to. Even sitting down for a few minutes renews my strength. In my "past life," I felt like my life was continually a sprint to my next opportunity to sleep. It's exciting to think that from here forward I may have substantially more time (because of less napping) and energy for my littles.