Getting my body back

I have a gluten intolerance and a dairy allergy, and last week, I had some beef jerky that had some gluten cross-contamination in it. For about three and a half days, my left leg was weak, my left arm was weak, and I wasn't sleeping well. Now that I have my diet under control, I feel terrific; I go to the gym, play with my kids outside, and work with no weakness nor pain! But those times I accidentally have gluten or dairy, it feels like a tailspin that sends me back to 10 years ago when I was in a wheelchair and in excruciating pain before I ever knew my diet had an effect.

So, that range of emotions seems more of a continuum.

And it ranges from feeling overwhelmed because I know this isn't how my body normally functions, nor how I normally walk, to feeling relieved because walking with the cane is somehow familiar. It almost feels like a relief in knowing that my limp is justified. I can get along well with a cane because I don’t have to use as much mental energy in maintaining myself upright and steady. Did you know that at any given moment, I know where I can steady myself should I start to lose my balance? I take a mental survey of which table, chair, or wall is closest, and I kind of plan my route from one place to the next according to what I might need to steady myself on. The way I stand has changed in order to provide maximum balance should any part of my left leg give out. I know how to monitor my gait so it doesn't look like I’m limping, if indeed, I’m feeling low on energy. What’s unconscious behavior for you is conscious for me. And it’s tiring.

But with my cane, I don’t have to worry so much about that. I have my cane to help me be steady. I have a valid and visible excuse to limp. But, it takes a lot of physical energy to shuffle my leg along and to not simply fall over, even with my cane. I can’t pick up my boys when they ask me because I can’t hold them and keep my balance. I can’t roll around on the floor with them when they ask me. At work, I can’t simply spring up and assist students if they need individual help at their desk; I ask them to come to me. In addition, when my left hand gives out, I have my brace to steady it, but it gets cumbersome, too. And, truthfully, it affects my mood because I'm not really able to roll with the punches.

It’s not that I’m in pain, either. I didn't have dairy, after all. It’s just that my leg is weak, and I can’t really feel it to make sure it’s where it’s supposed to be. I tell ya, it’s a good thing I don’t drive stick shift anymore. Just the older I get, the more I realize I need to drive automatic.

And that’s another point on the continuum—merging reaction with age. Though I’m not super ancient, I’m older than I was 10 years ago when I first got sick, and I’m older than I was when I started working out in 2007 to get healthy after my recovery. Fortunately, I’ve found the two major triggers for my weakness—gluten and dairy. The third—tiredness—is just something I’ll have to work with being a husband, father, and teacher. You know how it goes.

At the start of my reaction, I didn't remember how much longer it would go, but it lasted about three and a half days. With dairy, I know there’s a 2 week recovery period. I wrote to a friend last Thursday, "I don’t remember with gluten, so today may be the last of it, or it may go on for another week. I just don’t remember." By Friday afternoon, I was feeling strong again, like everything came rushing back to the left side of my body. It's always felt like that--like a neurological dam having opened up to my affected limbs. My wife was super supportive because she was getting over a reaction herself, though for her, it could be a wider range of things, as she’s developed a sensitivity to eggs, nuts, and soy in addition to her gluten and dairy reactions. I know, I know, we’re such a pair!

Now you know how to defeat me. Muhahaha.

Hindsight's 50/50

Shortly after my recent dairy reaction, I was talking with my dad, letting him know how I'd been and how I was getting on, and he apologized for passing on faulty genes. That really hit me hard. I reassured him it wasn't his fault and that there was no way anyone could've known this was going to be my reaction. He and I have had our share of differences, but he's always wanted the best for me; I'm certain of that.

Now that I'm a dad, it's almost like I've turned the clock back. I try to see a picture of my dad now--remembering him through my kid eyes, yet imagining what I would've done in his situation. It also helps this exercise that my boys are 30 years younger than my brother and I. I find myself thinking, "What did Papi do when he was my age?" Or, "Am I remembering this right? What must it have been like for him to move us halfway across the country to start a new job?"

No matter what stage I'm in, my dad has said how proud he was of me, and I can see a bit of him in me as I parent my boys. 

Papi's sick

Ten years ago I couldn't walk.

Let that sink in for a minute.

I was studying and living in Madrid, Spain, when I got sick with Guillain-Barré syndrome--the best label we could put on it--which meant I had ascending paralysis from my feet, up through my legs, and into my arms and trunk. I would have episodes of paralysis--something highly irregular for Guillain-Barré--which would last from 30 minutes up to 4 or 6 hours. In addition to the paralysis and general weakness, I was having excruciating pain in all of my joints, so walking was extremely difficult even when I was using my forearm crutches. Sometimes I couldn't speak. After about two and a half years of recovering, physical therapy, occupational therapy, an additional Bachelor's and a Master's degree later, I had started teaching and had started my career. I felt like I was on the up and up!

About six months after we got married, my wife was diagnosed with Celiac disease, which meant that not only did she have to be careful about not eating gluten in our home, but I had to be careful also, so as to not get her sick. After we moved to Memphis, we decided to go completely gluten free at home in order to feel safe and healthy in our own home. We agreed that any time we went out to eat, even by ourselves, that I could have all the gluten I could eat, and boy did I splurge in those early months of discovering glorious Memphis eats--fried chicken, catfish po'boys, hamburgers, and RIBS!

But I would feel awful afterwards. I felt sluggish, like my mind was in a fog, like I couldn't concentrate. I would feel weak, and I'd be in pain. My students quickly got used to me using my cane at school, and they would start to ask about my arthritis whenever they saw me with my cane at school. After JJ was born in 2011, we had him genetically tested to see if he would be predisposed to Celiac disease, and it turns out that he has genes for a gluten sensitivity as well as Celiac disease, but get this: he got one of those genes from me. I decided to go gluten free, and in the spring of 2012, I went dairy free, too, and I now have way fewer instances of pain and weakness! Those were the best health decisions I've made!

About three weeks ago, I somehow got some dairy, and I had an awful allergic reaction. Not the "break out in hives" or "just take a Lactaid pill" reaction. The "lie in bed because it hurts too bad to talk or even breathe" reaction. I spent the rest of the day in bed and most of Sunday sitting carefully on the couch. My wife took over with the boys who wanted to play with me. I overheard her say numerous times, "Papi can't play with you today. He's sick." And though it was the absolute truth, it hurt, because I love playing with my boys. I've been dealing with illness for over 10 years now, but they're just barely 2 and 3, and they know that Papi plays with them. When I'm home, I take over a lot of the parenting duties in order to relieve my wife from a long day or in order for her to do some of her own work, as she works from home. Also, it's a way for me to be hands on with my sons and support my wife. Even after a hard day with my students, I love mixing it up with my family!

I love being up and about with my boys, but for the next two weeks, I could barely walk. When I came home, I was so tired, I couldn't do much more than sit on the sofa and watch them play around me. I kept repeating, "I can't play with you today. I'm sick." JJ would grab my hand to get me to chase him, and I couldn't. AJ wanted me to hold him up so he could "fly," and I couldn't. My wife was amazing at helping me and being generally encouraging. She put her needs aside in order to keep caring for the boys and for me. We knew that my dairy reaction would take about two weeks, and she kept reassuring me that this was temporary. I told her that I didn't want my sons to think that I wouldn't take the time to play with them, all the while hoping they would understand it was because I was sick. That's been something I've been musing over the last 10 years--long before I even got married and had kinds. Of course, she said that they would understand when I got sick that I couldn't be active with them, but they'd remember all the fun times when I did.

My parenting with allergic reactions, weakness, and pain may change from week to week, and I don't like that inconsistency, despite all the factors I try to control for. It messes with my mind. But I'm glad I have more good days than bad and a wife to partner and parent with who also understands that. I know what triggers my pain and weakness now, and I'm stronger and in better shape now than even 5 years ago. Through all of these reactions and episodes, what I want my sons to learn most of all is something I really learned only when I first got sick: their worth as a man does not lie in what they do; it lies in who they are.

FaceTime with Familia

My mother is from Puerto Rico, and my father is American from Ohio, so growing up, I knew that I had family that didn't speak English. Even though my mother speaks English and Spanish without any interfering accents, her parents spoke English with an accent. While growing up, I'd hear her on the phone speaking Spanish and knew immediately she was talking to family. That was a connection I wanted, and that was the biggest impetus to teach my own kids Spanish at home.

I learned the other day that my Puerto Rican grandfather had just gotten an iPhone and that he had called my mom on FaceTime. She was a little taken aback, but thrilled, that her father had taken so easily to this new technology. I also learned that his sister, Tía Vive, who lives in Puerto Rico and whom I had never met, was visiting him at his home in Florida. So, I thought I'd give him a call, too.

My wife had gone to the gym, while I stayed home with the boys. I thought this would be a great time to try out FaceTime with Abuelito (Grandpa), as I'm calling him to distinguish him as my sons' great-grandfather from my dad, their grandfather, whom they call Grandpapi. He picked up, and lo and behold, there was Tía Vive, sitting right next to him. I was sitting on my sofa with both of my boys in my lap, and I could see Abuelito's face light up as he saw his great-grandsons. Of course, he was glad to see me, too.

He introduced me to his sister, and I was so excited to talk to her! She lives close to the home where they grew up, in Hormigueros, a small town close to Mayagüez, on the western side of the island. Here I saw my grandfather and his older sister sitting side by side on my screen, and it was as if I were sitting across the living room from them. They have the same caramel skin, the same gray hair, the same smile.

She smiled as she asked who those boys belonged to, and I beamed with pride as I said they were mine. Her next question, a little hesitantly was: "¿Hablan español?" ("Do they speak Spanish?") My grandfather chimed in: "¡Estos nenes hablan español! ("These boys speak Spanish!") I could tell he was proud, as was I. Not only am I his grandson--a bilingual and bicultural Puerto Rican--but I'm also a Spanish teacher, so this was a point of pride for me, personally. I asked JJ (almost 3) and AJ (almost 2) to count for Tía Vive in Spanish, and JJ gladly obliged. Tía Vive was over the moon! As she observed how I interacted in Spanish with each boy, and after hearing JJ's proud counting, she proclaimed to everyone in the room "¡Estos nenes hablan español! ("These boys speak Spanish!").

The boys were getting a little restless, and it was almost dinner time, so I asked the boys to say "Adiós" (Goodbye) and "Te quiero mucho" (I love you). Tía Vive has been visiting Abuelito--my Grandpapi--for about three weeks now, and she, along with her daughter and son-in-law will be there a little while longer. "Es mi hermano preferido" ("He's my favorite brother"), she smiled as she gave him a hug.

We'll FaceTime again, for sure, as I want my boys to connect with their family--their culture, their language, their history, their pride--even if we can't be all in the same room.

Discipline or Disciplina?

I realize my last post was almost a year ago, and I realize it was on being a bilingual family. Here's one more. ;)

Quick update: We're a bilingual Spanish/English family, where my wife is the primary English speaker, and I am the primary Spanish speaker, though we speak both fluently, and the boys hear us speak both. On weekends and on breaks (I'm a teacher), the boys hear more Spanish, as I talk to them and my wife in Spanish, I play Spanish-language music, or even put their Baby Einstein videos in Spanish. I want them to have as much exposure to Spanish as I did growing up in a bicultural/bilingual home.

As JJ turns 2 in a week, and reflecting on his last three to six months of language development, there's no question he's bilingual, and AJ--now nine months--is comprehending and responding to as much Spanish as English. (Side Papi note: He's always responded a little more to my Spanish than my wife's English.)

One issue that's emerging more now with JJ, though, is discipline. Fair and honest and equal and consistent discipline. Bilingual discipline. It's emerged naturally that I tell JJ to something in Spanish, while my wife tells him to do something in English. Sometimes we tell him the same thing at the same time, but in our respective languages. Here's the AMAZING thing--he hears and understands and complies, often SIMULTANEOUSLY, to both of us. My wife and I agree that since he understands well enough to do something, he understands well enough to accept the consequences--in either language.

The most important thing for me after I discipline JJ is to reassure him I love him and forgive him. Lo quiero y lo perdono.

Talking

JJ is now 14 months old and really communicating! We are a bilingual (Spanish/English) household plus we've introduced some common signs, mostly having to do with mealtime (this kid LOVES to eat!). We also have friends over a lot and have the radio on (in English and Spanish depending on our moods) most of the day in the background. The kid is surrounded by language. As a Spanish teacher myself, this is ideal, because he's exposed to authentic language in authentic circumstances. I try to recreate this as much as I can in my classrooms, but it seems my own child is more willing to play along than high schoolers. ;)

But one thing that I've noticed lately is that he says "No no!" more often than any other word. And it doesn't help much that it's the same word in English and in Spanish, so it seems like double bang for its buck. I want JJ to play and explore and discover and make connections. I want to encourage that in him, but with all the messages that he's interpreting, it's really started to get to me that the clearest message he may hear--and subsequently repeats--is "No!". As a dad who wants to be loving and supportive, that's a real zinger.

Enter "dad guilt."

Do I not affirm him enough? Do I not say "Sí" (I'm the primary Spanish-speaking parent) enough to him? When I see him playing in the laundry basket, as I did when I was his age, my heart melts. I love seeing him make connections and discover how much house he has to play in! Maybe he's not hearing all the times I say "Buen niño" (Good boy) or the "Qué obediente" (How obedient) or "Te quiero mucho" (I love you) right now.

Maybe he just needs a "Sí."

Stay at Home Dad

Hands on/Hands off

I love my son.

He's five months old, and I love watching him play, read, talk, wiggle about in his pack & play. I love to hold him before and after naptime, when he's extra snuggly. I love hanging out with him in the mornings and evenings. I love watching him jump in his Johnny Jump Up while K and I are making dinner. I love rolling on the floor with him and having him bump against me.


I'd say I'm pretty much a hands on type of dad. The thing that I'm having difficulty with, truth be told, is letting him grow in his independence--being a little hands off. This kid has an independent streak in him like you wouldn't believe. On the day he was born, he let us know after being held a bit, that he wanted to sleep in a corner of the hospital room and take some time to be alone. He plays well by himself and is not afraid to try new things.

Now that I'm staying home with him full time during the summer, my tendency is to make the most of every waking minute to be with him. I know that one of the best things I can do as his dad is to teach him to make his own decisions and let him be independent. And that can start now--having time to play together and time to play by himself.

But at five months, maybe the best thing I can do now is let him know I love him.

Hashtags

I know, right? Why on earth would someone title a "welcome back" sort of post "Hashtags"?

Because they've been a lifesaver to me through Twitter!

I had been tweeting for about a year and a half before my son was born this past January, but my tweets were more about food, since I love cooking and I'm always on the lookout for gluten free recipes since my wife is Celiac.  I've used #celiac and #glutenfree.

But on the day my son was born, I felt like I found a whole new community when I added the simple hashtag: #newdad. I felt like I had joined a brotherhood of new fathers, and in an instant, I understood so much more about my own dad, my grandfathers, uncles, and even my brother, who's been a dad three times over in the past five years (and he has one on the way).

Since the day my son was born, I've discovered other hashtags, like #dadstalking where I'm getting tips about what to expect in the upcoming stages of fatherhood. I've discovered #sahd (stay at home dad), since I'm at home with JJ during my summer vacation as a teacher and discovering that laundry and dishes, truly, never end.

The dads who post are not experts, but we're all sharing our own experiences about fatherhood. Primarily, we're looking for community, for shared experiences, for help, and sometimes it's just a way to vent our frustrations. With these hashtags abounding and Twitter always open now that I'm at home, I just don't want to hashtag my way through fatherhood. I definitely want to be present in my son's life. I want to enjoy this time with him and grow with him. I want to share my experiences with other new dads in Memphis. I want to love my son and just be the best dad I can be for him.

That's a great new hashtag I may use now: #bestdad.

You can follow me at twitter.com/profepj3.

Learning Parte Dos

I put JJ to bed every night after K feeds him and reads him a book. Over the past two weeks, JJ has discovered his fists and fingers and sucks on them before going to sleep. (Well, it's more like he licks them. He's only 8 weeks old; give him a break.) Some time during his first week, he decided he didn't want to be completely swaddled for nap time, so I left one of his arms out of the swaddle--the Caesar swaddle, as I call it, because it looks like he has on a little toga.

Now, this kid has been left side dominant since his first day: he generally looks to his left, rolls onto his left side, and has started sucking on his left fist. Last night I Casesar-swaddled him, but I left his right arm out, trying to get him to use both hands. He threw a fit for about 10 minutes and was completely unconsolable. So I unswaddled him, changed his diaper and Caesar-swaddled him with his left arm out.

He went right to sleep.

So, last night I learned that my son is probably going to be left-handed. And sometimes it's the simplest things that make a kid happy.

learning

I had my 30th birthday last week, and I have a 2 month old. I've been married almost 2 1/2 years. Though these are numbers that make someone seem more mature, I don't necessarily feel older.

Now that I'm a father, as I've said before, I feel like I have a license to learn more and discover the world as my son is discovering it. I feel like I have permission to ask questions. To figure things out. To make friends and try new things.

Scott Logie wrote in his recent post about making mistakes to get better as a parent. I'm learning more in my job and in my family. I'm learning about how to be a better father. I'm learning how to be a better husband, and I tell ya: I've never been more in love with my wife than I am now!

And that's one more thing I've learned: my capacity to love has grown exponentially. I catch glimpses of my wife holding our son, and my first instinct is to grab the camera, but sometimes I just stop myself. There are moments I just want for myself--memories to treasure that no one can take away from me.

I'm learning more to love more.

smiling

JJ smiled at me this morning. All week he has been fussy, and K took him to the doctor for possible reflux. JJ was prescribed some medicine, and he's been better over the past three days. After K fed him in the living room this morning, I passed them in going from the kitchen to the laundry room. K said that JJ tracked me and smiled.

I'm so amazed at how he's developing and how he's growing. I love him so much, and I'm reminded of how God loves me, his child.

JJ's lying down now, and I'm making breakfast. He's just talking, and I'm smiling.

Gearing up for a romantic #valentinesday wknd. Making the wife feel special as a #newmom & #newdad.

I also need to make sure I'm working out regularly. I want to be healthy for K, JJ, and my future grandkids!

I'm a better man

I'm a better man since I became a father. I've become a better husband. I've become a better teacher. I've become more responsible and keenly more aware of how my actions affect others. I've also become more aware of my need to have older and wiser men in my life, including my father, who can show me things along the way and to let me know that things will be OK in the long run.

When I was a kid, I thought my dad knew everything. I still think he's a pretty knowledgeable guy. But now that I'm a dad myself, I catch myself guessing how my dad might have done things 30 years ago and realizing that he didn't have all the answers. He just did the best he could for the good of his family.

The biggest thing that I'm learning as a new dad is to learn new things. Ask questions. Discover. Admit I don't know. Live life. Be proactive.

Relish in bedtime routines.

cloth diapering, a love story

I posted a couple of weeks ago how we were trying out cloth diapers for JJ. We had our trial pack in hand, and we weren't afraid to use them. JJ took to them quite easily, and we, his parents, found it was easier to use the more absorbent pods and do laundry everyday than to go through a box of several hundred disposables in about a week's time.

Since that last post, we are full-time users of the Soft Bums cloth diapers, and we're using the bamboo/organic cotton blend inserts. All in all, we spent under $400 for 24 one-size inserts, 8 newborn inserts and 8 shells. This combined with the two shells and some of the Stay Dry inserts we got with our trial pack means we're pretty well set. It's been really easy to use the Soft Bums because the inserts hold a massive amount of pee and poo--something JJ has become quite proficient in. Plus, they change with the ease of a disposable.

And I don't have to make any midnight runs to the grocery store to get more diapers because we just ran out at 10pm.

I told a buddy last night that I'm glad we're using the cloth diapers. He said, "I don't think that's something I'd ever be glad about." I meant, I'm glad we have the cloth diapers because of the overall cost of buying the big pack of disposables every week versus the one time cost of the cloth. It's true that the smell of day-old pee and poo in the wet bag is one of the more revolting things I've ever smelled in my life, but they clean oh so easily!

I just put another load in the washer and have a load of inserts in the dryer. That's much more comfortable than competing with other dads in the diaper aisle at Wal-Mart on a Saturday.

It's official!

We ordered our Soft Bums last week, and they arrived yesterday! Kelly got the organic bamboo set, so JJ is pooping in velvety organic style! Kelly wanted to make sure we had the shells and inserts washed and dried and ready to go last night, so this morning we put one on JJ after his bath. (Kelly's going to a mom's reunion for her prenatal pilates class, so she wanted him smelling sweet and clean.)

We decided we liked the Soft Bums so much, we just wanted to stick with them, particularly since they're one size, and we can fine tune the size adjustment. The drawstring and velcro make it really easy! And, from a dad's perspective, they go on much like a disposable, so that's easy enough.

My mom in visiting for a few days, and already she's sent us out on two dates! It's great to have a babysitter for JJ, but even better to reconnect with Kelly as husband and wife. It's so easy to get caught up in the reality of being parents, especially with a newborn, that we forget who we are as a couple. We went to Outback in Midtown Memphis last night and got our favorites--including the seared ahi tuna and chocolate thunder plus wine! It was definitely a celebration!

So, this is our third weekend as a family of three, and we're enjoying it. This week, I started a new job teaching at a high school, and it's been great to have time in the afternoons and evenings with JJ and Kelly. What a blessing!

So great to have 2 date nights in a row, thanks to Grandmami visiting from GA! JJ's in great hands & I get to reconnect with my wife.

(Grand)Papi

I'm named for my father, and there are a lot of good things I learned from my father that I'm remembering more and more now that I'm two weeks into fatherhood. During Kelly's pregnancy, I kept thinking about what my dad might have been doing 30 years earlier in preparation for my arrival. What was he thinking? How did he research baby products? How did he support his wife in her pregnancy after he got home from work?

Now that I'm two weeks into fatherhood, I still think about how he did things 30 years earlier and somehow picture myself in his shoes as I'm a new father. Before JJ was born, I asked my parents to send me pictures of them when my mom was pregnant with me. The thing that stuck out the most to me is that I'm older now than my dad was when he was expecting me. But as I'm establishing routines in my family, I see his influences in my fathering. For example, we listen to NPR every weekend, particularly for the quiz shows and A Prairie Home Companion.


I'm different from my father in some ways, and my family isn't exactly like his; it doesn't have to be. One thing I appreciate more than anything is his advice and his listening ear. He does a great job at listening to what I have to say as an individual and offering advice as prompted by the Holy Spirit. I'm taking notes for when JJ gets older.

Thanks, Papi.

Sgt. Jennemann, U.S. Army, 1980

cloth diaper trial parte 2

We had the Soft Bums on him for a couple of hours, and it worked well. We put in a newborn insert, and had it on him for a couple of hours. After two hours of having it on him, we checked him because we hadn't heard any of the normal wet or dirty diaper whimpering (this child only cries when he's hungry, apparently--counting my blessings!). Sure enough, his skin was dry though the microfleece insert had pee and poop. We were impressed with how dry he felt!

We went ahead and changed him and put on a disposable (yes, I know) as we were going to our friends' house. We definitely liked the Soft Bums, but we have a few more kinds to try. I'll let you know. From a dad's perspective, though, this seemed very easy to put on him and change. (Though Kelly actually did all the diaper maneuvers for this trial run, I was right there, so I stand by my use of "seemed" here.)

We got the Echo System Basic Pack as a trial run from Amazon.