Having learned that it is awkward and hard to put a normal "nothing" post following one of deep revelation and seriousness, we will just have to forge forward together. There is nothing to report regarding Sam, but be confident that I will post any changes or news that we do get. So, life goes on. And here is a...
Quote of the Day:
"Erin! You can't draw in that!"
Erin - "But mom, I'm just writing in Brooke's diarrhea!"
Huh. And all this time I thought it was a journal...
This is Erin and the beautiful, sparkly doll we made together.
This isn't an easy post to write. But I figure that if you care enough about my family to still be reading my blog, you care enough to pray with us as well. We have had concerns for Sam's development for a while now. I've had a feeling that all was not "right" with her since I was pregnant. It has been quite the roller coaster and I think it's possible that we just got on the ride. Sam had an appointment yesterday with the neuro-development team at Mary Bridge. She is at about the level of a two to three month old. She turns six months old in a couple of days. We knew that she wasn't laughing yet, and that she didn't initiate smiles, and that you have to force her to make eye contact. We thought it was all social stuff. It's not. She also has really poor muscle tone in her arms and shoulders. And doesn't sit up like she should, and doesn't roll over like she should. I'm not sure why the physical bad news makes this so much bigger to me. Maybe it hits too close to home. My brothers, Daniel, Stephen, and Michail died from spinal muscular atrophy and Tom's brother, Wes is in the end stages of muscular dystrophy. I don't think she has either of those things, but it's, all of a sudden, scary. Sam has had wonderful blessings and they give us so much hope and peace. I guess what we are feeling is turmoil. I am also overcome with gratitude for my own problems. As I was sitting in the waiting room surrounded by really sick kids and these amazing mothers (Shout out to Tiffany. I don't know how you do it...) I was so thankful to be there with my sweet, sweet daughter. She is so wonderful and just draws people in. I don't think most people would guess that there is a problem. She seems so normal. But nothing makes her excited, and, on the other hand, nothing makes her mad. The neuro-development people were excited to see her, because most of the "too good" babies aren't diagnosed until they go to school. It's hard to explain to mom's of fussy babies that you are concerned because your baby is just too good. From here, we still don't know much, but it feels like we are headed in the right direction. It feels good. She has an appointment with a pediatric neurologist and will start occupational therapy once a week. She also qualifies for a bunch of programs run by the county and will have a nurse coming in to the house to work with her here. Her sisters are good for her, they told us it's great that she's not an only child. Apparently being born into chaos does have it's advantages... As I'm typing this, Sam-o is laying on the floor, watching the twins do puzzles. She just smiled at me, and I feel peace. This sweet child has been sent to us for a reason. We'll do whatever it takes to help her succeed. We love our Sam.
As evening fell, there was peace to be had in land of Bishop. A scream rends the the silence. Then sobbing fills the air. As well as the pounding of smallish feet running for safety. Upon further, wary investigation... A horror and tragedy of epic proportion was discovered. Erin and Alix had taken shears to several members of our extended family. I know you're picturing bloody stab wounds, but... it was worse... Bald "My Little Ponies", shorn "Sleeping Beauty", "Braid My Hair Dora" with no braid left... It was a massacre of beautious locks. Brooke was sobbing over the demise of Mariposa and the twins were sobbing over the demise of their fun. And also their spankings... I was away at the gym when all the drama went down. When I got back to the land of Bishop, Brooke was huddled in the fetal position, still not over the terror of the evening, clutching her ruined dolls. Erin and Alix, sound asleep. So peaceful. So sweet. So banned for life from scissors... As I surveyed the remains of our beloved family members, I couldn't help but burst into (somewhat histerical) laughter. All the new fancy Christmas Barbies now have the same hair cut as I do. At least it's a great cut...
As you can tell from the giant mound of multi-colored hair, I have quite a few more bald ponies and Barbies yet to find...
And looke, the one green pony with pink hair? Still has hair! How did she get so lucky? I'd rather Barbie hair than twin hair, if I have to choose...Alas. What a pity. I tried so hard to help Sam make a big 'ol mess on her face with her first time eating real food, but it just didn't happen... Not even a spot on that pristine bib. She didn't love it, but she certainly didn't spit it out either. Perhaps it was the ease with wich I can feed just one baby at a time. No switching back and forth, trying to catch the cereal as it goes spitting down the face of the other twin... This picture is the messiest it got. She had trouble realizing that she can't feed herself yet. Anyhoo... she's doing fine and now she's just one of the big girls. 
The girls were playing "family" and all wanted to babies. But you apparently need a mommy to play family. So Alix walked up to Tom, loving touched his face and said,
"You have beautiful girlie eyes, so YOU can be the mommy!"
Oh. Well. If that's the only requirement, I've been doing too much!
Have you ever noticed that your children don't walk anywhere? If they're happy, they run. If they're mad, they run. If they're bored, they run and run and run... Go to your room - run. Time to eat - run. But it's not really running. It's much cuter. I've decided it's "scampering" and I tried it yesterday. To start off, let me tell you that I am not a cute scamperer. I don't think it's possible once you are over 4 feet tall. I ran to make breakfast. I ran to wipe some little booties. I ran to get Sam. I ran. And ran. And ran. The girls loved it. I was the funniest thing they'd ever seen. You should have seen the looks we got running into the store. It was like a herd of elephants coming across the parking lot... Let me mention, that I run 8 miles at least twice a week. It doesn't matter. I was pooped! How do they do it? And my legs are a lot longer. The little people are taking three times as many steps. I'm still not sure what they see in scampering everywhere they go. Really, who wants to get to time-out faster? But they do. After a day of scampering, I'm exhausted. I'm sweaty. I'm a little embarrassed I scampered in public. I'm laughing. I'm a hero. Who knew that all it took was a day of scampering to make your people fall in love with you all over again?
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