Walking the creek trail with Susan, Bryce and the four rug rats
Fourth of July in downtown Anchorage
Lewis with Tia Natalia
Lewis learned how to slide on his own this summer.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Remembering the Lost summer of '09
Thought to add some pictures to remind me that on rare occasions we did get to enjoy the short Alaska summer.
Sunday, October 11, 2009
The cheesehead Auntie
She came bearing cheese!
Aunt Camille came to help back in September. She came with enough cheese to appease Carolyn's Wisconsin tastes for a month or more. Smoked string cheese, cheese curds, munster, and other stuff that those of us that don't speak Cheese don't know.
For two weeks she changed diapers, held babies, wiped spit up, fed babies, and the whole potpourri of baby duties. She even went out to dinner with all of us. I remember the dinners because during one of them Camille and Carolyn sprinted away from me like gazelles during an explosive diaper change in a parking lot. I remember changing Sage's diaper on the floor of the van while they waited a few steps away. Then SWOOOOSHHH! Without warning the brown torrent came out. No diaper was covering the rear end and the poo went as if fired from a garden hose. Had I aimed her a bit to the right Camille would've screamed and I'm sure she would have left Alaska that night. Instead the stream hit the door and splattered on me, on Sage, and all over the van. Camille and Carolyn ran. Maybe even sprinted while carrying the other two babies and Lewis. I thought I heard them laughing. It took me near twenty minutes to clean up the mess - by myself. I used up a box of wipes wiping down the carpet, the seats, even the insides of the door seal. The van probably still stinks but I've grown immune to the offensive smell of baby poop. What was I talking about? Oh, yes Camille helped out (just not when the shit hit the van).
By a stroke a luck Camille was here when the whole issue of Miles' eye came up. With her here we were able to deal with all the doctor visits and hospital visits without seeming like a mobile baby circus every time. We were happy for her help getting out to the Museum, the pick it yourself farm, and the Tuesday Night Runs where we forced her to march up and down hills while pushing a stroller full of babies or waiting for Lewis to get done seeing the spawning salmon so we could finish the race. It was fun to have her here and we were glad to have her huge help.
The Rudzinski sisters trying to squeeze blood from a cabbage
Holding Sage - or is it Ruby?
Just about to give Miles a bath
Auntie of triplets
Hanging out on the new couch
Lewis, Aunt Camille, Ruby, Miles and Sage
lets hope they all learn to smile like their Aunt
Aunt Camille came to help back in September. She came with enough cheese to appease Carolyn's Wisconsin tastes for a month or more. Smoked string cheese, cheese curds, munster, and other stuff that those of us that don't speak Cheese don't know.
For two weeks she changed diapers, held babies, wiped spit up, fed babies, and the whole potpourri of baby duties. She even went out to dinner with all of us. I remember the dinners because during one of them Camille and Carolyn sprinted away from me like gazelles during an explosive diaper change in a parking lot. I remember changing Sage's diaper on the floor of the van while they waited a few steps away. Then SWOOOOSHHH! Without warning the brown torrent came out. No diaper was covering the rear end and the poo went as if fired from a garden hose. Had I aimed her a bit to the right Camille would've screamed and I'm sure she would have left Alaska that night. Instead the stream hit the door and splattered on me, on Sage, and all over the van. Camille and Carolyn ran. Maybe even sprinted while carrying the other two babies and Lewis. I thought I heard them laughing. It took me near twenty minutes to clean up the mess - by myself. I used up a box of wipes wiping down the carpet, the seats, even the insides of the door seal. The van probably still stinks but I've grown immune to the offensive smell of baby poop. What was I talking about? Oh, yes Camille helped out (just not when the shit hit the van).
By a stroke a luck Camille was here when the whole issue of Miles' eye came up. With her here we were able to deal with all the doctor visits and hospital visits without seeming like a mobile baby circus every time. We were happy for her help getting out to the Museum, the pick it yourself farm, and the Tuesday Night Runs where we forced her to march up and down hills while pushing a stroller full of babies or waiting for Lewis to get done seeing the spawning salmon so we could finish the race. It was fun to have her here and we were glad to have her huge help.
Aunt Camille and the aircraft carrier stroller at the You-Pick farm
The Rudzinski sisters trying to squeeze blood from a cabbage
Holding Sage - or is it Ruby?
Just about to give Miles a bath
Auntie of triplets
Hanging out on the new couch
Lewis, Aunt Camille, Ruby, Miles and Sage
lets hope they all learn to smile like their Aunt
It's been a month
Good gravy!
How can you have a blog and only post something every month?
I know, I know, I've been slacking on the blogging job. I've got a few dozen excuses if you want them or at least 4 two-legged excuses but I'll just shut up and post.
What's happened since the last post? The biggest incident was with Miles and his eye. As if someone saw my last blog about Miles' eye and my stories and thought I needed more to worry about. A day after the blog entry we took Miles and the whole gaggle to the doctor for a weight check. A weight check is when you get them all officially weighed on the doctors expensive scales so the doctors can be assured you aren't starving them at home. While there we asked if the pediatrician could look at his eye. His eyelid was slowly closing on him due to the hemangioma, the red things. He was able to open his eye about 40%. The pediatrician told us that hemangiomas go away after a year and all would be fine but asked us to keep an eye on it as she didn't want his eye to close too much. We wanted to know what "too much" was. She looked at it, didn't seem overly worried but did say she would confer with a pediatric opthamologist. She told us she'd call us in a week.
Within the hour she called us back. She said she had talked to the opthamologist and that he had a opening that same afternoon, but not to worry. We went nervously. After a two hour nervous wait we finally saw the doctor. After a two minute inspection he gave us the verdict. "I can fit him in my surgery schedule next week." That began our first worried parents installment in the medical world. There Carolyn and I were not knowing what to do, who else to go to for advice, or what other real options we had. Looking back we did our parent jobs well but it seemed a bit overwhelming having only a few days to make a informed decision on Miles' vision for the rest of his life. We called other opthamologists and learned more about hemangiomas and eyeball anatomy than we ever wanted to know. We googled every hemangioma website, even dissected sheep eyeballs in hopes of learning what was about to happen. In the end we went with the surgery option. Our other options were go to Indianapolis or Seattle for a second opinion (our opthamologist was said to be the best in the state), or do nothing.
The surgery seemed to go well. I had this idea that eye doctors were the cream of the crop in the surgical world. I thought Miles would come back better looking than he went in, his scars would be near invisible and no one would be the wiser. When he came out he looked like he'd been on the losing end of a extended boxing match. His face was swollen and the eye looked like hamburger. They sent us home with a little bottle of ointment and an appointment to see the doctor the next day. The next day his eye is still swollen, black and blue and clear pus is occasionally oozing out. The doctor looks at him and rather than looking at his handiwork grimly says "Wow, his eye looks great!" So much for my idea of eye doctors...
Now for the gross pictures...
The Frankenstein pictures the day after
The scab clinging by a thread
or eyelid beef jerky
in a cavern - in a canyon...
The now happy camper
Still playing with his sisters
How can you have a blog and only post something every month?
I know, I know, I've been slacking on the blogging job. I've got a few dozen excuses if you want them or at least 4 two-legged excuses but I'll just shut up and post.
What's happened since the last post? The biggest incident was with Miles and his eye. As if someone saw my last blog about Miles' eye and my stories and thought I needed more to worry about. A day after the blog entry we took Miles and the whole gaggle to the doctor for a weight check. A weight check is when you get them all officially weighed on the doctors expensive scales so the doctors can be assured you aren't starving them at home. While there we asked if the pediatrician could look at his eye. His eyelid was slowly closing on him due to the hemangioma, the red things. He was able to open his eye about 40%. The pediatrician told us that hemangiomas go away after a year and all would be fine but asked us to keep an eye on it as she didn't want his eye to close too much. We wanted to know what "too much" was. She looked at it, didn't seem overly worried but did say she would confer with a pediatric opthamologist. She told us she'd call us in a week.
Within the hour she called us back. She said she had talked to the opthamologist and that he had a opening that same afternoon, but not to worry. We went nervously. After a two hour nervous wait we finally saw the doctor. After a two minute inspection he gave us the verdict. "I can fit him in my surgery schedule next week." That began our first worried parents installment in the medical world. There Carolyn and I were not knowing what to do, who else to go to for advice, or what other real options we had. Looking back we did our parent jobs well but it seemed a bit overwhelming having only a few days to make a informed decision on Miles' vision for the rest of his life. We called other opthamologists and learned more about hemangiomas and eyeball anatomy than we ever wanted to know. We googled every hemangioma website, even dissected sheep eyeballs in hopes of learning what was about to happen. In the end we went with the surgery option. Our other options were go to Indianapolis or Seattle for a second opinion (our opthamologist was said to be the best in the state), or do nothing.
The surgery seemed to go well. I had this idea that eye doctors were the cream of the crop in the surgical world. I thought Miles would come back better looking than he went in, his scars would be near invisible and no one would be the wiser. When he came out he looked like he'd been on the losing end of a extended boxing match. His face was swollen and the eye looked like hamburger. They sent us home with a little bottle of ointment and an appointment to see the doctor the next day. The next day his eye is still swollen, black and blue and clear pus is occasionally oozing out. The doctor looks at him and rather than looking at his handiwork grimly says "Wow, his eye looks great!" So much for my idea of eye doctors...
Miles' eye before
Miles laid out in his Radio Flyer gurney
Getting pulled into the operating room
The boxer after the match
Now for the gross pictures...
The Frankenstein pictures the day after
The scab
The scab falling off
The scab clinging by a thread
or eyelid beef jerky
in a cavern - in a canyon...
The now happy camper
Still playing with his sisters
Recovering well
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