Simsek Strikes

Playing Doctor

There are a lot of things I took for granted before becoming a mother.  It's natural to make assumptions, I suppose.  The sheer number of things that didn't occur to me back then would be shocking if it weren't for the fact that I think they are a common denominator for most parents.  The reality of parenthood is so starkly different than the idea that it's laughable, in both wonderful and challenging ways.  And, I think, this is how humanity continues to rush head-long into reproduction.  It's a biologically programmed blindness, akin to the way we can (sort-of) forget 24 hours of intense mind-bending natural childbirth and choose to do it again a couple years later.

One of the many things that didn't occur to me was the fact that I would be so crushingly responsible for all the healthcare decisions for each little person who came into my care.  Now, before you say "Duh!" let me explain:  yes, of course I knew that would be caring for them, taking them to the doctor's, nursing them through illnesses, and so on.  But when I thought about these things, I imagined it in fairly straight-forward terms.  I would take care of the colds and flus and stomach bugs, and the rest would be managed by my trusted pediatrician.  All I had to do was pay attention, follow directions, and remember all my first aid training in case I ever needed to, you know, apply pressure and elevate a wound or something.  

But it didn't take long for me to realize that things weren't going to be that simple.  Those trusted doctors, even at their best, missed things.  They got things wrong.  They couldn't explain why Lexi had bloody stools as a newborn--not even the GI "Specialist" in Boston or the Allergy and Lactation Specialist I travelled 45 minutes each way to visit.  I had to figure it out myself. They thought it was "no big deal" when the DTaP made her scream for 3 hours straight, spike a fever, and caused her leg to go red hot and swell up like an italian sausage on the grill.  They missed her delayed speech and lack of interest in faces.  They dismissed Spencer's Celiac Disease as "toddler diarrhea" and never noticed the fact that Lexi was practically blind in her left eye.  They shrugged off Ellie's wordlessness since "your kids are just late talkers" and seemed surprised when I informed them that she was, in fact, autistic.  I could go on, but you get the idea.  These are not bad, insensitive, careless doctors (although I have a few choice words for the Boston GI). They try hard, but they miss things.  They can't help it.  They're busy and they only have a few minutes with my child.  They're not trained to recognize everything, and I'm sure that they see so many parents complaining of phantom illnesses that they get a little dismissive. And so, it falls to me to figure it out. (And don't get me started on the things they've missed for Paulo!  Those oversights make me think I should have been a diagnostician!)

And the decision-making is a weighty responsibility.  It would have been so much easier to let them make all the decisions, and yet I might have 2 undiagnosed, untreated autistic children (or more if Spencer had been damaged while his gut was leaking), one half-blind daughter, and all three malnourished.  Might these issues have been caught eventually?  Perhaps, but not early enough to have made the kind of progress we have by catching them young. Not early enough to prevent a lot of damage in those first, formative years.

And so now I take nothing at face value.  I question and research every medication and each procedure. I push back, and I worry.  I'd rather not have to worry, but I can't help it.  

The night before Spencer had his tonsils and adenoids out this week I sat by his bed and listened to his laboured breathing and prayed that I was making the right decision.  I was planning to take him into his first surgery, first general anesthesia, first bodily invasion. He was excited and positive, which was good. There was a good chance that having the once-routine procedure would help him finally breath and sleep soundly for the first time in his life, with no gasping for breath, sweating, waking with nightmares.  It could improve the ADHD symptoms and strengthen his system.  It could help to ensure that he didn't have another 6 months of ear infections this year.   Even if it did a couple of these things, it would be worth it, assuming that there were no complications.  Beacuse it could also be dangerous. There could be severe bleeding.  He could react unexpectedly to the anesthesia, or the codeine, or develop an infection that would require antibiotics, and our choices there have been drastically reduced by his reaction to augmentin in the spring.  This would be routine for the doctor, but it wasn't routine for me, or for Spencer.  It was a calculated roll of the dice.

And so it is with each decision.  They cannot do it for themselves, and the doctors' track records aren't great.  They try hard.  They do their best.  I haven't given up on working with them, but I have accepted that they are incerdibly fallible, and at the end of the day I have to decide what chances are worth taking.  I have to push back, ask for more tests when something isn't right, and sometimes say "no" when I feel something isn't safe enough or goes too far.

I'm pretty sure that about half the grey hairs I'm sporting came from carrying the weight of these decisions.  I wasn't trained for this, and I know that if I screw up, and I do, they may pay the price. 

I kiss their little sleeping heads each night and I pray hard that I can keep them safe.  That I can see what I need to see.  That I have the courage to trust my gut and the wisdom to use my head.  That I don't make any terrible mistakes.  But most of all, that they stay healthy and unharmed because there are just no guarantees. 

So far, so good!

In Which We Struggle with Ellie's Gut

In spite of recent articles to the contrary, certain digestive problems are common among autistic kids.  Some of it cannot be explained away as behavioral.  "Sandy" stools are one of those.  Also, rancid-smelling poops, chronic diarrhea or constipation are common.  Some may be written off as behavioral, but given the other oddities, I have to wonder if even these may have some basis in biology.

Ellie, sadly, is one of those with digestive challenges.  Sometimes you'd swear that she had been eating play sand for their graininess.  Other times she seems to have been drinking straight battery acid and they burn as soon as they come out.  After a few particularly unpleasant poops, Ellie began to resist pooping at all.  And, predictably, things got rather backed up.  The minuscule amounts that came out each hour required cleanup after cleanup, and the cleaning in turn led to irritation and more discomfort. And that's where our problems got really tough.

The pediatrician, failing to find anything biologically wrong (although no samples were taken or tests run) recommended a regular regimen of laxative--enough, in fact, that she couldn't possibly with hold and everything would have to come out.  It was an effective approach to keeping her clear, but I couldn't be convinced that having the runs every day of every week was a healthy way for my toddler to live.  She wasn't learning to stool normally, to use the appropriate muscles, or to be learn to identify her body's signals.  

How would she ever learn to potty train if she couldn't learn to poop normally?

Moreover, could it be safe for a toddler to have that much polyethylene glycol (the active ingredient in both Miralax and a variety of industrial lubricants) every week?  I have my doubts.  They were compounded by the fact that taking the stuff regularly was turning her poop an unnatural green color.  This just doesn't seem right.

So last week I tried going without the Miralax again.  I added back in the slippery elm that helped her so much as an infant, and extra helpings of Fruit-Eze.  I even added in some Metamucil to her morning juice, hoping to keep things soft and moving. No luck.  The color went back to normal, and everything should have been moving but again she wouldn't let it.  All week she fought the poop until we were back to tiny bits a dozen times a day.

Suddenly, within 24 hours it all caught up with her and her bottom exploded in irritated welts.  Every diaper change is like a torture session with both of us crying.  She fights and clenches so hard that it takes longer than it should, and it's nearly impossible to get it all.  I've taken to putting her in the bath after each changing to finish the job and then letting her run naked for a while before slathering her in Desitin and re-diapering, only to have to do it all over again an hour later.  It's miserable. And so sad. 

So Monday we return to the GI Specialist.  I don't hold out great hope that they will have any answers.  I hope that they will listen and be open to running some tests.  I want to know why her poops are sandy, or acidic, or greenl.  I want to know how to make it comfortable again without giving her diarrhea for years.  I want to know if she should try digestive enzymes or if there's yeast or inappropriate bacteria in there.  But I fear that they will simply right it off as "behavior" and send us home with more laxative.

If that happens we will have to pursue a DAN doctor a half an hour away.  I don't want to go so far, but I can't go on this way, either.   And neither can she.

Should You Consider Going Gluten-Free for the New Year?

Before discovering Spencer's gluten intolerance, I knew nothing about gluten.  In fact, like most Americans, I regarded bread as one of the most benign, gentle foods imaginable.  It was bread that I ate when my stomach was upset, and bread that made most any meal complete.  I loved everything bread:  bagels, brochette,  French toast, sandwiches on whole wheat, fried eggs on toast, English muffins, fried dough...you name it, I loved it.  And I always assumed that it was loving me back.

But after seeing the massive transformation in Spencer's health after we removed the gluten, I began reading.  And reading more.  I recognized that several of Paulo's niggling health issues could be caused by gluten--anemia, elevated liver enzymes, skin irritations, geographic tongue.  I could go on, but you get the idea.  Sure enough, in spite of the fact that his doctor was initially convinced that there was NO WAY he was Celiac, Paulo tested off the charts for Celiac Disease. Since going gluten-free he is a new man, and it's wonderful to know that we caught a potentially life-threatening disease as early as we did.

In the last two years we've all gone gluten-free and, other than the normal colds and flus that come our way, we've never been healthier.  Initially, I didn't notice any symptoms myself and yet I feel immeasurably better gluten-free, too.  In fact, I credit my body's ability to cope with the last few year's chronic lack-of-sleep as well as it has to our improved diet.   

This year, my mother's doctor recommended that she leave out the gluten, and my father, who is now recovering from prostate cancer, discovered that he, too, is sensitive to gluten.  As a life-long athlete and all-around healthy man, the cancer caught him quite by surprise and he's beginning to investigate the relationship between diet and cancer with an eye to this new information.

But the crazy thing is just how oblivious we all were to this extremely common dietary risk!  Like most people, I believed that bread was a staple food and had a hard time believing that it could be so harmful to many, if not most people in one way or another, and the numbers are growing. I know better now, and you should too.  Gluten intolerance has increased 400% in the last 50 years, and is chronically undiagnosed.  99 percent of people with gluten intolerance credit something other than gluten for their ailments, and many doctors are sadly misinformed about the many ways in which gluten intolerance manifests itself.  According to the New England Journal of Medicine it is associated with 55 "diseases", including such well-known dangers as cancer, osteoporosis, lupus, epilepsy, depression, and yes, autism. (edited to add a partial list of the symptoms associated with gluten sensitivity, health issues associated with Celiac Disease, and other autoimmune conditions associated with Celiac Disease from Dummies.com--a good primer for the newbie!)

And the best part?  It is 100% treatable without drugs or side effects.

So if you are considering getting healthier in the New Year, or if you're just interested in knowing a little more, I encourage you to read this article.  As far as educating the uninformed, I think it's one of the best I've read in a while, and since I read a lot about Celiac Disease and gluten sensitivity, that's got to be worth something!

A Happy and Healthy New Year to You!

MamaBars: An Easy Version of a Pricey Snack

While shopping at the Portland Whole Foods Market, Paulo saw, and purchased, some delicious Larabar snack bars for me.  They had only three ingredients, were absolutely fabulous, and were crazy expensive.  That New England thing in my head kicked in and started saying "I bet you could make those yourself...three ingredients!  I can't be so hard.  I bet you could do it..."

So, prompted by the memory of that taste (and that annoying voice in my head), I put dates, cashews, and pistachios on the grocery list.  Today was Experiment  One, and I have to say it was such a success I am now going to share it with you.  Here goes:

You need:

One LARGE bag of dates
Pistachios
Cashews
a food processor
A mixing bowl
a rolling pin or a rectangular baking dish
parchment paper (wax paper would probably work, too)

What you do:

1.  Run the dates through the food processor.  If it starts to make groaning noises, smell hot, or belch smoke I recommend trying smaller handfuls.  These things are stiff, sticky, and hard on the machine.  (Mine may not forgive me for a while for abusing it with that first batch!)  Once a batch is well mooshed/diced/pulverized remove it to a bowl.  Continue this way until you have mooshed them all.

2.  Put the nuts in.  I went heavy on the pistachios, but you could do it however you like.  Let the processor chop them into a fine, nutty gravel.  Pour them in the bowl on top of the dates.

3.  Kneed the mixture thoroughly with your hands.  Seriously.  Get in there and really squish it up until it's all one gooey, sticky, nut-gravely ball.  Be ruthless.

4.  Gently flatten the ball on a sheet of parchment paper (or wax paper).  If you can, shape it into a bit of a rectangle.  It will be easier to cut evenly this way.  Once it's fairly well flattened and shaped, put a second layer of paper over the top and use the rolling pin (or, in my case, the flat bottom of a rectangular baking dish) to flatten the top to a uniform height.

5. Cut into bars, and pack into ziplock sandwich bags for a handy snack on the go!  That's it.

It was so easy and so cheap I had to share.  And mmmmmmmmmmmm, delicious!

A Day by the Shore

After graduation Lexi went to visit Paulo's family for a long weekend, leaving the four of us behind.  So, with soccer off the calendar for a weekend and errands out of the way, we found ourselves with a whole day for adventuring.  This is a rare commodity, and after some debate (Paulo wanted to head to the mountains and I wanted to hit the flea market) we decided to head to the coast with the kids. 

So, as soon as Ellie woke from her nap we piled into the car and headed off.  Our plan was to stop in Portsmouth to check out Anello's Gluten Free Café and pick up a picnic lunch to take to whichever beach we hit first.

Anello's was wonderful, and it was a real treat to walk in with Spencer, look at the long displays of pastries and baked goods and fresh breads and to tell him that he could have anything in the restaurant. His eyes lit up and he looked up at me just to make sure that he'd really heard me right.  "Anything?  You're not kidding, Mommy?"  Not kidding.

The staff was amazing, and so was the food.  We got lunch, but we also stocked up on GF brownies, fruit bars, macaroons, and cookies.  It was all fabulous.

Then we headed out in search of someplace to picnic.  Luckily for us, the first place we came across was Odiorne Point State Park.  Parking was cheap, the view spectacular, and the rocky coast was full of tidepools to explore, smooth stones to collect, and seashells to discover.  Ellie and Spencer climbed excitedly towards the surf, only to jump back in surprise as the waves splashed ever closer to their feet.  Paulo helped each of them out onto rocks just a little bit further into the water where they could watch the waves and feel the cold spray, and then they both returned to the endless joys of finding, hefting, dropping and tossing rocks. 

There was some kite-flying, of course, and lots of little discoveries to be made before it was time to pack up our things and head back.  Although much too brief, the day was wonderful--just the sort of day that should make it onto our summer list permanently.  I can't wait to go back.

Amigo's: A Great Gluten-Free Find!

Dining out is a little more challenging now that life is gluten-free than it used to be when we were happy omnivores.  Luckily for us, Paulo has a special talent for ferreting out gluten free spots wherever we find ourselves, which makes travel just a bit easier.  (You should have seen the gluten-free pizzeria he found when we were in NYC this summer!!)  Of course, sometimes we stick to known chains for the sake of convenience: Uno's, PF Chang's, Legal Seafood, Smokey Bones, Outback, and Chili's are a few of the standards in GF dining. 

But this weekend he struck GF gold:  excellent GF Mexican food in a laid-back, family-friendly environment! The place is called Amigo's in Milford, New Hampshire. When we first pulled up we thought we'd been mistaken: it looked like an adult spot as opposed to a family restaurant.  There were little twinkly lights strung up inside and several tables of diners sipping drinks from large glasses.  The lighting was warm and quiet and it looked like there might be, you know, some ambience; something one learns to do without when dining out with little kids.  There were some intimate tables in the window and a quiet bar visible on the side.  

But it was family friendly, and every other kind of friendly.  The wait staff was warm and welcoming and knew their gluten-free menu well.  Apparently one of the owners is Celiac, too, which is why they had added the GF options. The menu itself had more GF options than we've seen almost anywhere, from appetizers, entrees, and sides, to sauces and desserts including a fabulous carrot cake with cream cheese frosting!  The pork enchiladas with ranchero sauce were to-die-for.  All the kids found things to eat and love from shrimp to tacos, fresh made guacamole and salsa and some mexican rice that Ellie couldn't get enough of.  The other diners were just as warm and friendly, striking up conversations with us and the kids and making us feel at home.  We all left full and happy and we will definitely be going back!

So, if you're looking for great GF Mexican in New Hampshire, look no further!  Trust me, it's worth the drive!

Pre-Christmas Update

The pace of life has been snowballing as we crash into Christmas week.  Much of the preparation we were planning to do for the holiday got preempted by the ice storm, and the truth is we're still not quite caught up.

This past week was Lexi's last week of school before Christmas break.  On Thursday her kindergarten class put on its Christmas Program which was incredibly sweet.  The children had learned several songs beautifully, and we were all wowed by how well they performed each one in unison.  It has to take a lot of rehearsing and patient teachers to put on such a great show!

Thursday was also the day that I realized, with no small amount of panic, that in all the confusion we had made the marbles for Lexi's classmates but we had not decided on or made/purchased any teacher gifts!  ARG!! Class mom of the year I ain't.  So we spent the afternoon making cards, more magnets, and homemade peppermint bark.  (Thanks to Amanda for the idea AND the recipe link!)

Another casualty of the storm was the Christmas tree.  Each year up until now we've had a nice, fat real tree that fills the house with that warm, piny smell that announces Christmas as soon as you walk through the door.  It glowed with tiny white lights and gold and glass balls.  I loved it.  This year we spent the weekend we should have been buying and trimming the tree holed-up in a hotel room hoping the pipes weren't freezing at home.  So, deep in our own territory with time running out, we were forced to punt.  The less said about the results of that decision the better.  The children are just as delighted with this (ahem) tree, as they were with its predecessors.  Maybe more.  ("Look, Mommy!  Beautiful purple lights!!")  But personally I'm sucking it up and trying to keep it all in perspective.  I'll let it speak for itself.  The most flattering pictures I could take of it were blurry.  In the dark. Yup.  It's bee-u-ti-ful that way:

And, as you can see in the background, we will have a white Christmas this year.  A VERY white Christmas, in fact.  Wednesday we got several inches that I tackled with a shovel (with Spencer's help) while Ellie napped and Lexi was in school.  Friday we got hit with a storm that dumped about several more inches on us.  It tapered to a light flurry through the afternoon, stopped for a few hours Saturday night, and began again with purpose Sunday morning.

A word about the snow.  It seems that almost without fail, our snowblower comes up with some excuse to avoid doing its job whenever it snows.  It's a broken pin, or a belt, or the snow is too wet and it makes only snow bricks, or it's too cold and it won't start.  I've decided it's lazy.  Or obstinate.  Or both.

So Friday, when it was time to dig out again, it came up with a whole new way to avoid doing any work. The starter pull-cord pulled out and wouldn't retract.  Take that!  So, on to Plan B: we decided to try the electric starter.  First, find a grounded extension cord.  Done.  Plug it in and push the button.  Click.  Click.  Click.  Nothing.  Jiggle, prime the pump a bit, check to make sure it's not in gear.  Nothing.  Paulo was recovering from his follow-up endoscopy (more on that later) and was ordered not to do anything strenuous for the day, so I pulled out the shovel AGAIN and got to work. Fun for all.

Finally my dad was able to come over and give the thing a once-over on Saturday.  I wasn't convinced that anything was going to work and was bracing myself for another repair bill when I heard its unmistakable rumble in the garage. I raced out to find out what he'd done. He grinned and shrugged in typical dad style. "It wasn't making good contact," he explained. The trick?  He hit and jiggled the starter.  I kid you not, he really did the old Fonzie-smack to the thing and it started! Thank God for Dad!! And it was none too soon, either. My back was already aching from having shoveled the driveway twice and now the snow was getting deeper than ever.  Dad and Paulo blew the driveway clean that afternoon to clear out what we already had before the rest hit.

Halfway through Sunday's storm I took my trusty helper, Spencer, and we put the snowblower back to work ourselves.  Spencer walked with me, holding on to the control deck and occasionally helping me to crank the chute to the other side as we changed directions.  For a kid who can sometimes be a mischievous, headstrong little guy, he was a gem.  He never tired of the work, didn't complain when the snow blew back in our faces, and followed every direction!  I really couldn't ask for a better three-year-old helper and it was actually a little nicer doing the work with his company than doing it alone.  He was even ready to do the edges with a shovel when we were done, but Ellie was screaming at Paulo and it was time to go in.  Of course, the snow was still falling hard and fast and by morning it would need to be done again so Paulo could get to work.

Honestly, looking outside this morning, it's starting to feel like we've moved to Canada.  Already the snowbanks are piling high and the snow in the yard is too high for the kids to comfortably play in.  Heck, Ellie would be chest-deep if I put her out on the deck.  And we haven't even hit the worst months of the year yet.  Where are we going to put it all??

Kids after the first storm.

Front walk after first snow.

The deck after it finally stopped snowing.  Where are the chairs and grill?

In other news:  Paulo had his follow-up endoscopy last week and the preliminary news is good!  The gluten-free diet he's been on for the last six months seems to be working.  We still have to wait for confirmation from the lab, but his doctor was positive about the changes he saw there.  This should mean a real improvement in his health overall, which is great news!

Now, on to Christmas preparations! There are gluten-free gingerbread cookies to make and decorate for Santa, presents to wrap, cards to make for friends and family, and new fish to enjoy (the kids picked new tank-mates for Nemo last weekend: a new black-and-gold fancy goldfish they named Ruby, and a mystery snail named Gary).  Pictures of all the fun to follow soon.  But first, it's time to play in the snow!

Housebound :: Kids in the Kitchen

Well, we're housebound.  At least for a few days.  The brakes on the vans went out, and we have yet to figure out a system to fit all three children forward-facing in the Subaru.  So, at least until early next week when the van comes home from the garage, we're stuck here.

What do you do when when you can go anywhere further than walking-distance with three little ones?  Work hard to make each day a little more interesting, and brave the cold as much as possible.

So this week, in addition to more art projects than I can begin to enumerate, I enlisted Lexi's help in cooking dinner.  Specifically, making the meatloaf.  The idea of squishing her little fingers through achingly cold raw meat thrilled her.  This was certainly win-win, since it always makes my knuckles cry out in dismay so that I have to grit my teeth to get through it all.  Not Lexi, though!  She happily squished and turned and flipped and kneaded the mixture while singing a little song she was making up about cooking...it was fabulous.  I can see this becoming a regular event.  At least until such time as she decides it no-longer holds her interest and, like collecting the mail, it falls out of favor.  Look out, knuckles, that day will come before you're ready!

And, if you're interested in our gluten-free meatloaf recipe, here it is.  We simply substitute gluten-free bread crumbs for the regular kind and add an egg.  It's actually pretty good, and I say this as a life-long hater of meatloaf.  Even my dad, who doesn't typically eat gluten-free, wanted the recipe after tasting it!

Ice Cream Cones!

It wasn't until we recently found gluten-free ice cream cones at a local health food store that I realized that none of our children had ever had an ice cream cone!  They've had plenty of ice cream, of course, but never in a cone apparently.

In fact, they weren't at all certain to do with a cone once they had one.  I gave Lexi hers first and, after she'd licked the ice cream off the top, she didn't know what to do next.  "Eat the cone, now" I explained.

"Eat it?  Where?  What part can I eat, Mommy?"

"All of it, sweetie.  Nibble a little off around the top and then you can eat some more ice cream.  Then nibble more cone and more ice cream until it's all gone!"

"What about this part?" she asks pointing at the band below the rim of the cone.

"That part, too."

"What about the bottom part?"

"Yup."

"All of it? Are you sure??"

In fact, it wasn't until she watched me eat it that she believed that the cone was actually edible.  And when Ellie munched into hers, Lexi was incredulous.  "How does she know how to eat it?" she asked, awed.

"Honey, Ellie tries to eat everything, right?  She eats paper, leaves, sticks, toys, cloth...she just did what she always does with something new:  she put it into her mouth and bit it!"

So, ice cream cones are all the rage now.  In the interest of keeping the sugar lower, I have only put a few teaspoon-sized scoops in the bellies of these (very small) cones, but it's more than enough.  Wait until the day they realize that more ice cream can be packed in and piled on top!  Oh boy!

Weekend Update

As promised, Saturday we took the children apple-picking at a nearby orchard.  Lousy blogger that I am, I forgot the camera.  But we had a lovely time.  At least, as lovely a time as a family of sickos can have!  The children bumped happily along as we pulled them over the rocks and fields in ancient red Radio Flyer wagons.  Ellie sat between her big sister's legs, slipping ever further forward until she was lying flat on her back with her head in Lexi's lap gazing at the treetops.  Even so, she was smiling and babbling happily.

At Paulo's recommendation we sought out the trees furthest from the entrance.  He figured, and rightly so, that most people were too lazy to walk that far and that we'd find some barely-picked trees.  The kids ran around excitedly pulling off as many low-hanging apples as they could carry before running back to the bag to deposit their goodies.  Ellie was happy to sit in the grass and pluck out as many fistfuls as possible.

In no time we had quite a bagful, and were ready for the bumpy ride back to the entrance to pick up some fresh cider and pay for our haul.  It was a great trip.

Early the next morning before the sun was up, Ellie found the bag in the kitchen and helped herself to a pre-breakfast apple. Who was I to say "no" to a sick baby who'd been up half the night?  Besides, I continue to be awed when she and her 8 teeth take on something so challenging.

Since then we've enjoyed a batch of home made applesauce and today I made a couple of gluten-free pies.  No, I wasn't brave enough to attempt gluten-free crust from scratch, but I think that was for the best.  I never mastered regular pie crust, and GF seems harder to work with!

Mmmmmmmm....

Unrelated:

Lex has been loving her new job as the family's official mail person.  She can't wait to go out "all by myself" and find out what's been delivered.  Every day it's a little adventure.  Personally, the sight of her thumbing through a toy catalogue by the mailbox, earnestly checking the street for cars, and carefully putting each piece of mail into her bag just makes my heart swell.  She's gone from zero to five so fast!