Jones has tonsilitis.

It started Tuesday morning.

Not too long after he'd gotten up, Jones came to me and said, "I wish I could go back to bed," so I cancelled our reservation for the gym nursery and told him to do just that. He rallied after a little nap, so we went to our church's Five Day Club. A little over halfway into it, however, he sat in a chair, leaned his head against the back of it, covered his eyes, and said, "I want to go home." I could tell he meant it, needed it, so we left.

Then came the fevers. He's had fever viruses almost every summer of his short life, so I wasn't too concerned that he'd spike 103.9 without any other symptoms. The fevers always responded to Ibuprofen, so I figured they'd last the typical four days and then vanish as quickly as they came on.

After two mornings of 4:30 wake up calls, though, I started to worry a little. He'd re-fever when his bedtime meds wore off and be up for an hour and a half waiting for the next dose to kick in. Then, he'd spend most every day laying lethargically around. Let's just say we have more than paid for our Amazon Prime account with all of the "Thomas" he's watched in the last week.

When this was still happening on Friday morning, I called the doctor's office. The nurse, who'd always before told me their protocol was to wait out fevers like this for four days, heard what was going on and said I should bring him in. Dr. O'Donnell was available at 2 p.m., so in we went.

As soon as Dr. O'Donnell saw his giant, white-covered tonsils, he said, "Well! There's the cause for his fever! Angry tonsils." He wasn't sure, though, what was causing the tonsils to be angry. He did know, however, that his spleen wasn't enlarged (apparently, a cancer indicator. EEK.), that his chest and heart were clear, and that his ears and nose were, too. That meant bloodwork - he tested for strep (though he didn't think it was that; "I almost never get a positive strep test this time of year," he told me) or mono and said if it wasn't either of those, it was likely tonsillitis.

Jones, I will have you know, did INCREDIBLY well with the finger prick for bloodwork. I anticipated a battle when the lab tech came in carrying her plastic case of sharp and pointy things. Jones proved me wrong, however, and handled it like a champ. Thank God.

Six minutes after Jones's finger was pricked, Dr. O'Donnell burst back into the room - "It's all good news," he led off. He showed me the results - everything looked normal, though his white blood cells were elevated. They weren't so elevated, though, that the doctor was concerned. Normal is 4-10 thousand or million (whatever); Jones's were 12.5. When I asked about that, Dr. O'Donnell said that 18-20 is a cold (30 is pneumonia), so the fact that it was 12.5 meant that the infection had almost run its course.

Dr. O'Donnell did say, however, that since none of the rest of the family has had a fever virus, he's wondering if Jones's "cyclical fevers" were actually undiagnosed tonsillitis, as well. That's why he tested for strep and mono - to document that it wasn't either of those things, so that if it flares up again, he can make the case for a tonsillectomy. He described it like this: Jones probably has these little pus pockets of infection that live in his tonsils, and every now and then, the pockets erupt like a volcano, creating the fever with no other symptoms. Within four days, his body has fought it off, but it hasn't killed the virus; the virus has just gone dormant - until it decides to erupt again.

He laid like this most of our
drive out to the lake.

So that's what he thinks we're dealing with. Of the alternatives, I'll take it!

The best part of the appointment - besides seeing Jones's perfectly healthy bloodwork! (thank You, God!) - was hearing that Dr. O'Donnell saw no reason we shouldn't proceed with our plans to head to the lake for the weekend, so that's just what we did. On Saturday, Jones's fever was gone, but his tonsils were still mostly white. They were back to normal on Sunday, however, and so was my (generally) sweet boy.

It's so good to have him back.

a Busy Day

I don't know whose bright idea it was to plan both boys' dental check-ups and haircuts and Freddie's four year physical on the same day, but that's exactly what ended up on today's agenda.  To be honest, I've been dreading it - but the boys proved my anxiety was for naught. I guess they've finally reached the ages where they can handle all of that running around without being any worse for the wear, and let me just tell you - I couldn't be happier about that glorious, long-awaited fact.  The first stop was Dr. "Bail's." While Jones did MUCH better at his last visit than he had in most of the previous ones, I was still holding my breath, unsure of what to expect from him (Freddie has NEVER been a problem at the dentist). He was an absolute DREAM. They BOTH were. If you had told me two years ago that Jones Pressley would ever handle a dental appointment that way he handled today's, I'd have told you you were CRAZY. 

Turns out, the only crazy one was me - for being nervous. Jones acted like going to the dentist was his JOB. I have rarely been so proud. Not only were there no fits, but he was adorably conversant with the hygienist. In fact, both boys charmed their ways around the office.  Clinically, both are doing great. Freddie's Hypoplasia is holding steady, for which we are SO grateful. They took an x-ray to be sure, but Dr. Bill thought that we were probably out of the woods with being concerned about having to cap it, as the teeth will soon grow to a point where they no longer hit against each other; decay won't be as big a concern when they do. 

Here's hoping.

Jones had an x-ray to see how his permanent teeth are looking.  It was fascinating to see the picture. In fact, I wish I'd taken a picture of it myself. The teeth are GINORMOUS compared to his baby teeth, and because his baby teeth are so tightly packed together, the hygienist suggested that the permanents may not have room to come in, which would mean orthodontia down the road. Dr. Bill didn't mention this, though, so I'm not sure if it's a problem or not. The teeth are all there and look great, but the hygienist said she didn't expect they'd be coming in soon. She asked when he got his first teeth - when I told her 8 months, she said, "Yeah. He was a late bloomer, so they'll probably come out late, too. That's what it looks like in the x-ray." Freddie wasn't yet 4 months when he got his first tooth, which makes me wonder if HE might lose a tooth before Jones? I asked a time frame for Jones, and she said 6-12 months.

Time will tell. 

After another great visit to Great Beginnings, we ventured to the barber shop. The barber shop used to be as traumatic a place to take Jones as the dentist's office, but just as he did at Dr. Bill's, Jones handled his hair cut like he did it daily. Honestly, Y'all. I don't think you understand what a shock this is to me - that he has turned this corner. I.am.so.grateful. The boys and I left the barber shop and had lunch at Ferrara's - Freddie ordered the "avrioli." I hope I never forget how he says that instead of "ravioli." In fact, I will probably call it that from now until forever. 

After an hour or so back at the house, we left for Dr. O'Donnell's. Freddie had a great check-up, praise the Lord. He passed both his hearing and eyesight checks with flying colors, and he did great with the whole thing - until Dr. O'Donnell had him lay down on the exam table, so he could listen to his heart. I think Freddie had flashbacks to when he had to do the same thing at the "Pokin' Doctor" (which is what he calls his allergist) and ended up getting stuck 37 times. He cried and cried and cried until Dr. O'Donnell finally finished. Jones came with us. It was the first time since Freddie was an infant that I've taken both of them to the doctor's office at the same time. He made quite the sensation of himself, "smoking" his "pipe" and telling the nurse that "you gotta look up and then you spit smoke." 

What was that you were saying about "good health habits," Doctor?

(So grateful, obviously, for all of the good reports and excellent health. I praise God from Whom all blessings flow for taking such exquisite care of my baby boys.)

#nailedit: Allergist Edition

First things first: I loved Freddie's allergist, Dr. McCann, every bit as much as I love Dr. O'Donnell, the boys' pediatrician. He immediately set me at ease by jumping up on the exam table and having a really relaxed conversation with Jeremy and me. I appreciated that so much. It was a gigantic answer to prayer.

Secondly, I was right: all of the things I THOUGHT Freddie is allergic to (pollen, dog fur, tree nuts), he is now confirmed to be allergic to.

The test itself was pretty much a nightmare. It doesn't hurt - 37 pen (not a typo) pricks on his back -  but you'd never have known that from Freddie's screams. I think it was just fear: he was laying on his stomach, me holding his arms and Jeremy his legs, while a stranger wrote on his back and then poked it with things that made him really itchy.

But in spite of the seemingly benign nature of the test, Freddie screamed, and he screamed, and he screamed. He kept saying, "I wanna go back to school! I wanna go back to school!" And I kept thinking, "Thank GOD it isn't JONES we're having tested." Lawd, have mercy. For as poorly as Freddie handled it, I can only imagine Jones would have been exponentially worse. That may be unfair of me to say, but come on. We all know it's true.

At any rate, Freddie calmed down pretty quickly after the test, but we had to keep him from touching the poke sites for 15 minutes, which required all hands on deck and made me really grateful that Jeremy was there for the first 90 minutes of the two-hour visit.

There were no real surprises out of the appointment: he's allergic to Hickory / Pecan and Cottonwood tree pollen, as well as Dock / Sorrel Mix weed pollen (none of that means anything to me - but I'm writing it down, in case Freddie ever needs to know the specifics and I've lost these papers that hold his results) and Dog Fur (Dr. McCann said a pet rock is probably our best bet. This makes me sad for my little dog lover).

He's also SEVERELY allergic to Cashews, Hazelnuts, and Walnuts (that's the one he reacted most strongly to in the test, which explains why that's the nut that made him throw up), but of the 7 tree nuts he was tested for, he's allergic to 4 of them (almonds is the fourth that he's allergic to; it didn't register as severe, though).

Our course of treatment is simple - NO TREE NUTS. Also, Epi-Pen. Always. A REALLY bright spot of the occasion was Dr. McCann's hooking us up with a pharmacy in New Jersey that provides two sets of injectors per year FOR FREE. Given that we spent $298 out of pocket for one set (and that was after applying Blue Cross's rate - they don't cover the pens, but they DO get a discount on them - AND a $300 manufacturer's coupon), freebies from the manufacturer was a significant cause for grateful celebration.

Something else to be grateful for is the fact that Dr. McCann is about to start offering a brand new oral immunotherapy for tree nuts. They've had success doing it for peanuts, and now they're branching out (har!) to include tree nuts.

Oral immunotherapy is where they give the patient a microscopic dose of the allergen in increasing amounts for a couple of weeks. Within months, you've built up a resistance to the allergen and trained your body that it's not foreign at all, so you don't need to attack it.

The downside, Dr. McCann said, is that you have to eat a small amount of the allergen pretty much every day for the rest of your life (for example, with peanuts, it's about 8 nuts) to be sure you don't lose your resistance to it. The BRIGHT side, however, is that your mother doesn't have to worry every second of your life that you've unwittingly bitten into something made with a tree nut protein. I say "unwittingly," because there is NO WAY IN THE WORLD that Freddie Pressley is going to purposely eat any nut that isn't a peanut: "I might throw up" is his very quick response, remembering all too well what went down last week.

And that part about "worrying every second of your life" isn't entirely true. In fact, it's flat out false. I've actually been SHOCKINGLY at peace, which is TRULY an act of God's grace (and something ELSE to be grateful for). He's reminded me that He's protected Freddie this far in his life, and He is a WAY more capable Caregiver than I am. The doctor said for us to just keep living our lives only to do it without letting Freck eat tree nuts, and that's what we intend to do.

We also intend to try the oral immunotherapy, assuming it becomes available as Dr. McCann expects that it will. It seems like a no-brainer at this point. Again, it's not that Freddie craves cashews - or will ever again want to eat a walnut - but there's a tremendous peace of mind that'd come, I imagine, with removing as much risk as we can - particularly as he becomes more independent with school, friendships, and other activities.

So that's where we are - grateful for a great doctor, grateful for the knowledge that will empower us to keep Freddie as safe as we can, and grateful to the God Who, as the catechism goes, "made him and takes care of him."

God loves Freddie.

(In case Freddie ever wonders if God cares about him in a unique, intimate, and personal way, I'm writing this down - raising his Ebenezer, stacking the stones upon which my favorite four year old can build an altar of praise to the One Who created him and who loves him as far as the East is from the West.)

The truth is: I left out a little tidbit from our trip to Tigertown. I didn't want it to taint what was, in reality, a fun family outing, so I didn't mention it. Because I've seen God work on Freddie's behalf since then, though, I want to write it down now.

So on Tuesday nite, Freddie had a pretty massive allergic reaction to a walnut. He had the tiniest of bites - we're talking about as much as a pencil eraser's worth - of a walnut that'd been baked into a brownie served in the JMI Sports hospitality area at Littlejohn Coliseum. Initially, the reaction was totally mild, but by the time we got home, he'd thrown up about 6 or 7 times and was HEAD TO TOE in hives.

Let me back up: for a few months, I've suspected Freddie is allergic to some tree nuts. He's had very mild reactions - but reactions, nonetheless - to pecans (on top of the sweet potato casserole at Thanksgiving dinner), to hazelnuts (I thought he'd LOVE a Nutella sandwich. Nope!), and, now, to walnuts. Almonds and cashews, however, he can - and does! - eat in an unending supply. How weird is that?!

Until Tuesday, the reactions looked like this: he'd take a bite and immediately spit it out, start scraping his tongue, and pulling on his ears. He'd act a little stunned for the next 30 minutes or so  before he'd bounce back and be totally normal. Still, the behavior, though very infrequent, has been enough to catch my attention, so I've just been keeping notes of these things to talk with at Freddie's four year check-up.

That's exactly how the reaction started on Tuesday. He'd no sooner taken in the bite than he immediately screamed and spit it out. It actually seemed like a milder-than-usual reaction. He perked up pretty quickly and enjoyed watching the game - well, playing with SnapChat filters while the rest of us (tried to) watch the game.

I added the incident to my list of things to talk over with the doctor and went on with life. As the boys and I drove home, however, Freddie threw up. And then he threw up again. And then again and then a couple more times. I thought, "Crap. Now, he can't go to school tomorrow, because he's got the stomach bug. I wonder if I should keep Jones home, too - just in case. I hope I don't get the stomach bug!"

By the time we got to Asheville, I'd stripped him (at his request) out of his vomit-covered Batman jammies and wrapped him in a towel that was still in the car from Jones's Monday swim lessons. We were driving by the Long Shoals Road exit when I turn around to see he's unstrapped his carseat and is scratching his back. Freddie's scratching is nothing new; his unstrapping himself to do it, however, is.

I made him re-strap, still assuming it was a stomach bug. I raced home, so I could put him to bed and end his incessant whining. He was obviously miserable, but I assumed it was because he was tired and covered in vomit. I had no idea what was really going on until I pulled him out of the carseat and saw that there was barely a spot on his body that wasn't textured like the ceilings in certain homes (ie., ours).

Hives.

So THAT'S why he was screaming that his piggies were itching.

I got him in a bathtub and dosed him with Benadryl. When I got him out of the tub, he was trembling so much that I wondered if he was having a seizure. I don't think he was. I'm pretty sure he was just cold from the next-to-naked car ride (though I'd cranked the heat up to 89 for the entire ride) and then the lukewarm bathwater. The trembling stopped as soon as I'd lathered him with Eucerin and wrapped him in clean pajamas and his Batman bathrobe.

Then he threw up again. And I was scared - really scared, like more scared than I've ever been before as a mom. Should I take him to the ER? Could I get there in time? Can I give him more Benadryl? What do I do with Jones?

I did what I always do in these types of crises - I called his Aunt Dolly, who NEVER FAILS to calm me down with her unbelievable poise and bedside manner. She said so long as the Benadryl was working, the ER wasn't necessary. The Benadryl WAS working. The hives were going away, and so long as I was holding him tightly, he was starting to relax. So was I.

I kept him up until 11:30 - we watched "Special Agent: OSO" in my bed - and then I put him in his room, where he proceeded to sleep like a baby until about 7 the next morning.

After this experience, I thought to myself, "Yep. We will DEFINITELY be referred to an allergist." I made mental notes of all that happened in order to share then with Dr. O'Donnell at Freddie's February 13th check-up.

When I texted some friends to tell them about it the next morning, one of them said, "Do you think you should call his doctor to see if you can move the appointment up?" I hadn't really thought of that. I'm not one to call the doctor, really (why would I when I have Aunt Dolly?!). But I called them, anyway, leaving a message for a nurse, describing what had happened and saying, "He's fine now. He's even at school! But if you think I should come in sooner, I will."

She called back pretty quickly and immediately said phrases like "I don't wanna scare you," "Epi-pen" and "allergist." In fact, within two hours of my placing the call, Dr. O'Donnell had called in the scrip, and the referral had been made. She also corrected my calendar. I'd written down February 13th for Freddie's appointment. It is actually March 13th - the first of MANY reasons I'm really, REALLY glad I called (which is not like me to do).

As soon as I knew where we were heading with this, I started praying three very specific things:

1) a super, surprisingly-fast referral. I know how long these things typically take, and a BIG part of me thinks his allergy is related to pollen (for reasons I'll go into if it's affirmed), so to get him on a course of treatment before pollen season starts would be AMAZING. All of these nut reactions have happened since he had a reaction to pollen on the face of the lake last April. Since then, he's also started reacting to the fur of dogs (my sister's, Dolly's, our friends the Godfrey's) he's been around without incident his whole life. Plus, his skin stayed flared up ALL SUMMER last year. It never cleared up, so I really think it's a pollen problem, but we will see. The point is, to know if it is or isn't before the first pollen fall would be amazing. But for that to happen, given that we're a month or so from pollen season, the ball's got to get rolling more quickly than these things generally do.

2) an allergist who will treat him thoroughly but not OVER treat him. I don't want to be giving medicines or treatments that aren't necessary, and up to now, he's lived a completely normal, unrestricted life, and I'd love to keep it that way - avoiding, of course, the nuts that seem to be causing problems.

3) that God would affirm for us that we had our guy. I don't know any allergists. I wouldn't even know where to begin to find one. Plus, when you're getting a referral it's a little bit like Russian Roulette - you get what you get, and you don't pitch a fit. So I just prayed that God would show us that His selection to care for Freddie wasn't random, but the perfect person to care for our Bear.

By yesterday at 5 p.m., I had my answers - all three of them, and THIS is what I want for Freddie to read. I want him to read it and stand as amazed as I do that the God Who created the universe, as vast and boundless as it is, was intimately involved in the minute details of a four year old's allergy referral. He IS, after all, our Father, full of love and concern for His precious children.

1) I got the call from Allergy Partners at 4:55 yesterday. The appointment coordinator asked if I wanted their Asheville office or the one in Clyde. In a move that was HIGHLY unusual for me, I said, "Clyde." She said, "I don't have anything in Clyde, until ..." I'm thinking she's gonna say, like, "May," but no. It's "... next Wednesday."

Next Wednesday, as in ONE WEEK FROM THE DAY THE REFERRAL WAS MADE, AS IN THREE OR FOUR WEEKS BEFORE POLLEN SEASON STARTS, AS IN I HAVE CHILL BUMPS EVEN NOW WHEN I WRITE THAT OUT.

2) She told me we'd be seeing Dr. William McCann. As she continued giving me the spiel for what to do to prepare for the appointment, I was Googling the good doctor. Not only does he have REALLY high HealthGrades, but he writes this on his website bio:

"I strive to provide each patient with a comprehensive and personalized evaluation and treatment plan that not only treats his or her condition but fits with his or her lifestyle. I firmly believe that we should work together to control allergic diseases and not let them control you."

Sounds to me like he's not into over-treating, either.

Two for two.

Praise God from Whom all blessings flow.

3) As I continued to read Dr. McCann's bio, I saw unequivocal confirmation that God had given us the PERFECT person to treat Freddie. He writes, "I have a particular interest in working with patients, both adult and pediatric, suffering from ... eczema."

My baby Bear was first diagnosed with eczema when he was 2.5 months old - which, upon reflection, sort of strengthens my gut instinct that his issue is primarily with pollen. I remember the day I walked into pick him up from his nap. He was in his Pack and Play in his room at my parents', and the smooth-skinned baby I'd put to bed woke up with measles-like bumps all over him. He had a check-up that day or soon after, so I showed it to Dr. O'Donnell then, who said, "He's probably just getting over a virus or something, so this is how he's showing that," but he'd had zero symptoms of anything. Still, I assumed that was that.

Now, I wonder if that was his first reaction to pollen. In retrospect, it'd have been mid-March, which would've been about the right time for the start of pollen season - his first exposure to it.

Who knows.

What I DO know is that Freddie has struggled with eczema for almost his entire life. To read we've been given a doctor who has a specialty in eczema is a very obvious affirmation that God has led us to the perfect person.

I am so grateful.

1) I'm grateful that the reaction wasn't worse than it was.

2) I'm grateful that I got home safely - especially since I was alone with the boys on a lot of dark and lonely roads. If something more had happened during the drive ...

3) I'm grateful we're getting this dealt with before the pollen kicks in again.

4) I'm grateful I said "Clyde" when 99 times out of 100, I'd have said "Asheville." Though I didn't think about it at the time, it occurred to me soon after that, if Freddie DOES end up having to do allergy shots (and I HOPE HE DOESN'T, but if he does ...), Dr. McCann's office is LITERALLY TWO MINUTES from both Clyde First Baptist Preschool and Haywood Christian Academy. It COULD NOT BE MORE CONVENIENT for either of those schools. Even if I eventually homeschool, Clyde is SO MUCH EASIER for us to access than Asheville.

5) I'm grateful I didn't have the Benadryl I typically take every where I go. Having seen Freddie's comparatively mild reactions to nuts and dog fur, I've been carrying Benadryl in my car (and keeping bottles at my parents' and in-laws') for most of the last year. When I left for New York last Thursday, I was VERY proud of the fact that I'd remembered to transfer the bottle to Jeremy's car for the weekend. The first thing Jeremy said when Freddie reacted on Tuesday was, "Do you have the Benadryl?"

Well, dangit.

The "pride" of remembering to put it in to Jeremy's car went right before the "fall" of forgetting to put it back in mine.

But now, I see my forgetting as God's kindness. Had I had it with me, I'd have given him some right then. I'd likely have stopped the reaction, which would've spared me the panic, but at the same time, I'd have masked the severity of a problem that needs to be addressed, so I'm thankful that God redeemed my mistake and used it to be sure Freddie got the care that he needs.

6) I'm grateful that the guy who lives two doors down from us is an EpiPen salesman. He's also a friend and client of Jeremy's. As soon as our pharmacy received Freddie's Rx, they called me to say that our insurance would've cover any and that the cash price was $489. I told them to fill it anyway (I figure Freddie's worth AT LEAST $489, right? :)) and that I'd try to find a coupon.

When I called to tell Jeremy, he remembered Gary. Gary told him about a coupon online that brought the price down to basically Epipen's cost. It's still expensive, but it's almost half of what we'd expected to pay.

Again, grateful.

7) I'm grateful that Gary has already shown us how to use the EpiPen - and that Gary's wife is a nurse, who's two doors down, in case Aunt Dolly is ever unavailable for my panicked phone calls.

8) Finally, I'm grateful for how God has given me peace through a time that I thought would be filled with panic.  Nothing calms a Christian's fear more than knowing God is always with you, and nothing says, "I'm right here. This is part of My plan" quite as loudly as the answers to prayer He so kindly - and quickly - gave us yesterday.

After I put the boys to bed last nite, I sat down to thank Him for what He'd done. Because I write down most of my prayers (otherwise, my mind is all over the place), I can tell you exactly what I said to Him:

"Father, my heart is overflowing with gratitude at Your kind answers to my prayers. Thank you. Thank You for the flood of peace that pours on my head, as I experience Your crystal clear direction in my baby's allergy treatment ..."

That I've had peace instead of panic is what absolutely astounds me the most - until I put down my pen from praying and opened my Bible. It "randomly" opened to Psalm 16, and my eyes fell on verses 7 and 8.

"I bless the Lord, Who gives me counsel. In the nite also, my heart instructs me. I have set the Lord always before me. Because He is at my right hand, I will not be shaken."

So there you have it, Part 1 of Freddie's allergy journey. My prayers are that he's one who'll outgrow his allergy, and that he'll never, ever need the Epipens I won't ever let out of my sight. Still, I am grateful to the One Who's led us all the way, and I want Freddie to always know how deeply his Heavenly Father cares for the little "Bear" He has kept as the apple of His eye.

"Time for Your Check-up! Time for Your Check-up!"

When he picked out his hat this morning,
he wanted one with a "J" on it. THAT'S MY BOY.

I'm not sure the difference could be more stark between Jones's four year check up and his five year check up.

At both, he was perfectly healthy, thank God (he DOES have some warts on his shoulder - mosculum contagiosum - and when I put the Compound W on him tonite, he begged me not to, screaming, "GOD will 'feal' it! GOD will 'feal' it!"), but his reaction to being at the doctor - and to the things that happen at the doctor - just offered further evidence of the incredible amount of growing up my five year old has done here lately.

I hadn't even told him where we were going, until we were heading to the Pressleys' to drop Freddie off beforehand. When I dropped the bomb that we were heading for his check-up, he acted 1000% unphased. He whined a little when I started sining the "Time for Your Check-Up" song from "Doc McStuffins," but he was totally calm other than that.

Even sitting in the waiting room, he was cool as a cucumber. When "Robert" was called back, he still showed no fear. In fact, he stepped on the scale without any of the hesitation that had me forcefully holding him down this time last year. Even the hearing test, which he'd refused to do at four, was not a big deal at five ... well, it wasn't MUCH of a big deal.

The first go round, he'd wear the headphones but refuse to raise his hands when he heard the beep. After seeing Dr. O'Donnell, he'd relaxed enough to retry the test but still wouldn't raise his hand. I told him to slap his knee, instead. For whatever reason, that did the trick, and he passed the test without any issues.

The vision test? No big deal.

His booster shots? He took them like a boss.

I think part of this was because he didn't know what was coming when the nurse and I laid him out on the exam table at the end of his appointment. He and I were talking about trolleys (this is on his Christmas list, so I was distracting him, asking "Big trolley or small?"), while she got her gear ready. He screamed after the first stick, but as soon as the second was over, he was done. The whole thing last ten seconds, tops. I'd assumed he'd be mopey through check-out and even as we drove away, but nope.

Jones insisted on sitting on the same side of the booth
with me. I didn't mind that one bit.

Not Jones 5.0.

We left and headed to "Old McDonalds" - his request - where it took 30 minutes for them to work their way through a line that was four people deep, and no. I am not exaggerating. In fact, that trip to McDonald's was the only part of the day that gave me heartburn.

So far, five is fine by me - and with his hearing and vision tests passed, and his booster shots administered, my big boy is officially kindergarten-ready.

MAN, that happened fast.

Thank You, God, for Jones's excellent health. Please continue to protect and preserve him and to seal him as Your Own. In Jesus's name, Amen.

Time for Fred's check-up!I

Today was Freddie's three year-old check-up.

Typically, he's unfazed by things like doctor's offices and dental visits, so while I keep these things a secret from Jones as long as possible, I told Freddie last nite that we were heading for his check-up today. 

To my surprise, he was VERY nervous. On the drive to the office, he kept calling it the "hospital," and saying "Hospital too far away." No amount of singing the "Doc McStuffins" theme song seemed to calm his nerves. 

Thankfully, his anxiety is a quiet one - not loud and boisterous and impossible to calm, like Jones's.  He was uncharacteristically stand off-ish as the nurse checked his vitals, but unlike Jones, he DID let her do it. She even checked his blood pressure (which was 80-something over 40-something, perfect for his age, thank God!). He weighed in at 34 pounds, making him 70th percentile for weight, and 37.25 inches, making him 40th percentile for height. In case you were wondering where he got his heavier-than-he-is-tall body shape from, look no farther than the short stump of the Stultz family tree. 

Anyway, he's gained 7.5 pounds and four whole inches, since last year's visit. 

As always, Dr. O'Donnell couldn't say enough good things about him. By the grace of God, he is as healthy as he is handsome. His eczema is clearing up (though he still "eetches" from time to time), and as the doctor would poke and prod on him, he'd laugh and say, "stop it. Stop it. Stop it."

After his great report, we ate at Chick-fil-A (where else?). He then played on the Asheville Mall playground before stepping into his first-ever photo booth. He thought it was so cool when he got in it. By the third frame, however, he was over it. 

For as thankful as I am for a great report, I am just as thankful for some time alone with my baby boy, who, as we learned today, isn't such a baby anymore!

SnapChat filters always help the boys relax.

When he saw this one,
he said, "I'm a chock-itt doggie."

Healthy Freckle

Very, very happy to report that, according to today's two-year check-up, Freddie Bear is fit as a fiddle!

Here are the stats:

26.5 lbs. (42nd %tile)
33.25" (13th %tile)
20.25" head circumference (99th %tile)

For comparison's sake (because this kind of stuff absolutely fascinates me), at the same appointment, Jones was:

26 lbs. (39th %tile)
35" (64th %tile)
19.75" head circumference (90th %tile)

We have now graduated from check ups every 3 or 6 months to every year. In thinking about that today, all I could say was, "THAT happened fast."

I am SO grateful for the gifts of my healthy sons!

Healthy & Happy

Freckle had his 18 month check-up today, a great way to celebrate that, today, he officially turns a year and a half!

I am VERY grateful to report that he is perfectly healthy. Here are his stats - and, below them, Jones's 18 month stats for comparison:

FREDDIE
25 lbs., 1.5 oz. (40th %tile)
30.75" (12th %tile)
50 cm head (95th % tile)

JONES (at 18 months)
22 lbs, 7 oz. (11th %tile)
32.75" (64th %tile)
49.57 cm head (91st %tile)

So, basically the whole Oscar / Felix comparison continues as the boys are completely flip-flopped in their sizes.

Just one funny anecdote before I post some pictures. So I've posted before about the boys playing "Where go Jones?" Now that Freddie's into it, everyone is fair game, whether they KNOW they're playing or not. As soon as Dr. O'Donnell left the exam room, Freddie shrugged his shoulders and said, "Where ee go?"

Also, while we were there, I left Jones with a non-family babysitter for only the third time in his 2.75 years. He did great, and so did I. I really need to do that more often. Thank you, Haylee, for a job VERY well done!

The final pictures are of Freddie cuckling with Freddie Bear, whom he's recently started sleeping with and whom he calls "Puppah," because that's what he calls ALL animals of ANY kind.