The Jersey Girl

Going to the dentist

2010-12-30T20:05:00.003-05:00

I took Frank to the dentist Tuesday morning. This is only the third time he's gone, and it went no better than the forst two times. Actually, it was somewhat worse this time, because he's getting to be too strong for me to hold down! I laid down on the chair, with him on top of me, both my legs crossed, locking his legs into place, my left arm across his chest, like a straitjacket, and my right hand on his forehead, holding his head back. Even so, he managed to wiggle away from my grip several times, screaming his head off the whole time.

I have to say, none of the people at this practice ever blink an eyelash at his behavior. Either screaming bloody murder during a cleaning is par for the course for his age, or they have so many special needs patients (I know they have a lot of autistic kids and kids who have Down Syndrome in their practice) that Frank is easy in comparison. I do know that, after our first visit, the hygenist told me, "Hey, he didn't bite, kick, or punch me, so he was a pretty good patient. As long as he was screaming, his mouth was wide open, so I could do what I had to do!" Better her than me- I'm really quite glad I did not go into pediatric dentistry!

The good news is, we apparently are doing an excellent job with brushing his teeth- no cavities, no spots even close to needing to worry about. The kid's teeth should be pristine- he doesn't eat anything with sugar in it!

Frank, of course, each time behaves as if he's the conquering hero, showing off the new toothbrush and the prizes he got. He also, of course, spends much of that day reminding me that, "We don't need to go back to the dentist for a long time, right Mommy?"

Oh, and with food? Tonight, he took a bite of carrot, chewed, and swallowed. And he only gagged on it once.

Been a while...

2010-12-26T21:03:00.002-05:00

Frank is now using the toilet at school to urinate. The catch is, he uses the adult toilet because the kids' toilets don't have doors, and therefore no privacy. But he's quite content to use the adult toilet, and his teachers seem to be fine with having to escort him down the hall to the bathroom, and he hasn't had an accident yet at school since he started using the adult bathroom, so I'll take it.

The catch is, he still refuses to use the toilet at all anywhere to defacate. So, at the suggestion of someone at school, he now tells us when he has to poop, we put a pullup on him, he hides in the closet (yes, I'm serious) for about five minutes, we clean him up and then put the underwear back on.

It's better than cleaning crap out of underwear.

He actually asks for mac and cheese for dinner a few times a week now.

There's a website that you can use to make a video from Santa for your child. You go and answer a bunch of questions about your kid, and they send you the video on email. I played it for him Christmas Eve morning. He seemed a little freaked out to find that Santa knows so much about him! His eyes got huge, too, when Santa said that he knows Frank's been working very hard, but he needs to work a little harder at trying new foods. It was hard for me not to laugh. A little while later he told me he was going to try a lot harder with carrots because, "Santa wants me to."

So, in the last couple of days, we have gotten from zero to 60, really. Yesterday he took two bites (that I let him spit out immediately) of a raw carrot, and today he actually took a bite and chewed it twice before spitting it out.

Bless you, Santa.

Paperwork

2010-11-12T16:30:00.002-05:00

I got the paperwork from the Child Development Center. I have to get his teachers at school to fill out a form, his pediatrician has to fill out a form, and his OT needs to fill out a form. And I have about five pages to fill out.

Nobody told me, when my son was 17 months old, that a diagnosis of Sensory Processing Disorder would bring so much freaking paperwork. I thought, at the time, that it was going to be something more like a personality quirk- he'd get some OT, and be much better, and would just have little things pop up once in a while. I never in my wildest dreams thought it would affect everything we do with him, and every aspect of his life.

In other news, he's decided he likes the Dodgers. Why the Dodgers, you ask? "I think it would be really exciting to watch them." He then hastened to add, "I still really like the Yankees, too, though." Shades of his grandfather, my father in law. When FIL was a child, his whole family were Dodgers fans, only back then it was the Brooklyn Dodgers. FIL one day up and decided he liked the Yankees. My husband thinks it was just to piss off his father. So now, in a family filled with Yankees fans, and several generations of Yankees fans on my side, my four-year-old son has decided he likes the Dodgers.

Sometimes, life really is a circle.

Blankets

2010-11-11T21:27:00.003-05:00

My son refuses to use a blanket to sleep. He'll curl up under one to watch cartoons, or to listen to a story, but he refuses to sue one at night, and doesn't seem to be able to articulate why. Up until this point, I haven't been all that concerned about it; we put him in thick footsie pjs during the winter, as well as a layer underneath on really cold nights, and the kid is way more warm-blooded than I am, anyway, so it wasn't a big deal.

But now he's wearing 5T shirts, and 4T pants. I'm having a hard time finding footsie pjs that fit him AND that feel good and don't have any "lines" (seams) to bother him. So, we've been trying to get him to use a blanket at night.

Epic Fail.

He even freaks out when we try and leave a blanket folded at the foot of his bed...or anywhere else in the room, for that matter. I KNOW it's because of his knee-jerk "anything different is bad" thing, but have no clue, short of forcing him to keep the blanket in there with him, to break him of his aversion to using the blanket at night. We've tried several different blankets, all to no avail.

Meanwhile, the kid HAS to be freezing at night. I know I am, and it's only November. I worry about him freezing his little butt off at 2am, but have no idea what to do to change this.

Appointments

2010-11-10T21:33:00.003-05:00

So, I called the Child Development Center at Big Area Hospital Frank was born at and made an appointment for him to see a developmental pediatrician. This is different from a regular pediatrician because this kind of doctor is a specialist in stuff that affects child development. The center wants him to have a full evaluation (And you should see the amount of paperwork they want before the appointment! They'll end up knowing him and his history better than I, who carried him inside my body for nine months, do!) before they decide what kind of therapy he needs, to rule out any physical issues. It's an approach that makes sense, I guess, but...the next available appointment isn't until MARCH 31ST! That's five months away!

I've looked around for a therapist for him, but there's not a single one in my plan within a 25 mile radius of my house who's taking new patients and treats kids as young as he is. So, this means I either have to go farther afield, a displeasign prospect during after-school rush hours, which is when I'd be bringing him to therapy, or go outside the plan and pay extra money, which is equally displeasing.

So frustrating.

Also, at an appointment with his pediatrician last week, she and I noticed a red thingie on the side of his chin. She thinks it's a blood blister type thing, but isn't sure, and because he's a fair-skinned child, and it's a sudden thing that wasn't there before, she wants him to see a dermatologist.

Great. Just what I wanted to be doing- schlepping around to more doctors.

I sure hope what people say is true- that one day I'll look back on all this and laugh- because I am not laughing now.

So, I haven't posted in a while...

2010-10-11T20:45:00.002-04:00

There's not much good to report.

He got over the ear infection, only to get some kind of virus a couple of days after the ear infection diagnosis that the doctor thought could be MONO. (My reaction? "He's four. He only kisses ME!") Apparently it's not unheard of for kids his age to get mono, so on his birthday, no less, we went to the pediatrician and then to LabCorp to get blood drawn for testing. The good news with that is that it turned to be Not Mono, and he eventually recovered from what turned out to be one of those ugly little-kid viruses.

I took him to the allergist to get tested last week, because I wanted to know what the hell was causing his constantly runny nose since about April. He mentioned casually to me on the way there that his ear hurt a little. Sure enough, he had an ear infection in his left ear this time. SIGH. Yet another antibiotic. If he gets another one soon, I am going back to the ENT and raising holy hell. The tubes are supposed to be taking care of this, for crap's sake!!

The toilet issue is still a huge issue. We eventually gave up on the underwear for school- he never uses the potty, and screams hysterically at the mere suggestion of it. He also screams at the thought of pooping in any potty.

No new exciting news with food, either.

I am just so damn tired, all the time. Thinking about anything, let alone trying to fight him on potty issues or food issues, sucks the life out of me. I just can't do this anymore, I can't. I just don't know what to do. Everyone has a suggestion, none of which work, and I know, because I have tried EVERYTHING. I spend hours at night, tossing a turning, and thinking about everything...I just don't have the strength for this, any of it. I know I'm failing him, but I just can't do it.

Getting there

2010-09-16T20:35:00.003-04:00

So, Frank has settled in fairly well to Pre-K. His first day of not crying when I dropped him off was Monday, his fourth day of pre-K. I fully expected to almost start at square one after having the weekend off, so this was quite a pleasant surprise. Maybe switching to a totally new school for kindergarten next year won't be as much of a trauma as I fear it will be?

He's been wearing underwear to school, too. Not that he's actually using the potty, yet, but, as his teacher, J, said, "His accidents are getting closer to the toilet each day!" Today he actually held it until it was an emergency, and peed on the floor in front of the toilet because he simply couldn't hold it any more. His pants were off and everything. He still insists that toilet is not private enough, and asked Darrel the other day if he could build a door to put on there.

He greeted me after school the other day with the words, "Mommy, my ear hurts." Okay, this is the kid whose head has hit the driveway, and slid down a flight of stairs on his butt and laughed both incidents off, so the fact that he was complaining of pain would have alarmed me, anyway, but we had just been to the ENT three weeks ago to check on his tubes, and they are "still lodged in there pretty firmly." So I was quite freaked.

When we got home, it was too late to call the doctor- the office was closed for the day. He didn't have a fever, but I gave him Tylenol, and a half hour later, he told me his ear didn't hurt anymore. The next morning, we dosed him with Tylenol again, and sent him to school. (This early in the school year, I cannot be calling in sick, and Darrel just started a new job two weeks ago, so that would look pretty bad to be calling in sick or asking to work from home one day this early on.) Because I interpret stright through in the mornings, I told Darrel to call the pediatrician and make an appointment for immediately after school. I took Frank in, and sure enough, he has an ear infection, a bad one. Is that tube not working anymore? Not sure. He got an oral antibiotic and ear drops. He's going back in two weeks, anyway, for his yearly exam, and she said if his ear wasn't markedly better, she was sending us back to the ENT.

She also, because of his drippy nose the past few weeks, advised me to give him Calritin for the next few weeks, because seasonal allergies are really bad for a lot of people right now, and she thinks that's what's causing the drippy nose. Yay, not only do we have to put ear drops in, give him an oral (liquid) antibiotic once daily, we now have to give him liquid Claritin as well.

All of the above are going over with the boy as well as you might imagine. I had to sit on him and use my legs to pin his arms down this evening to put the ear drops in. As for the liquid meds? I bribe him with extra juice boxes. He is normally allowed to have only two of the tiny-sized juice boxes a day, and knowing this, he hoards them and reserves them for late in the day. I told him he could have one extra juice box per dosage if he took it without incident, and this evening that actually seemed to work.

There are days, weeks, even, when I feel like all I am doing is treading water. This has been one of those weeks.

Make it stop!

2010-09-09T16:26:00.002-04:00

Okay, so we have one child. About six months after Frank was born, I was seriously ill, ill enough that the surgeon who put chest tubes in me told me that if I had walked around in that condition another couple of days, I could have died. Tha doctor and another both told me that another pregnancy was not a good idea, because they "could not guarantee a positive outcome". Darrel and I easily read the handwriting on the wall and said okay, we're done. We had been leaning towards only having one child at that point, anyway, so it was a pretty easy decision for us all around.

Lately, I am surrounded by pregnant women. One coworker just gave birth to her second child two weeks ago, another one just announced her first pregnancy two days ago, my sister in law is pregnant with her second child, Darrel's cousin's wife is due in a few weeks with her first child, and three teachers at school gave birth over the summer.

I am finding, since I am being bombarded with pregnancy all around me, that I am jealous. And there's really no reason for me to be, because, as I said, before Mother Nature essentially made the decision for us, we were leaning towards that very decision, anyway.

I find myself wondering what a daughter of ours would look like, what she would be interested in, would she and I have a close relationship or an adversarial one. I find myself feeling like I want to be pregnant again, which is the stupidest part of all, because I HATED being pregnant. You know that feeling you get when you're getting sick? You don't have a sore throat or anything yet, you just feel yucky? That's how I felt the entire pregnancy. Add in morning sickness the first 14 weeks, and shortness of breath for most of the rest of it, and I was not happy for nine months. And I suspect, although he's never said anything, that Darrel wasn't really happy, either, because I'm sure I was a tiny bit difficult to be around sometimes.

So, why these twinges of wanting another baby? I don't know why, but please, God, make them stop!!

Red-shirting kindergarteners?

2010-09-08T21:48:00.002-04:00

So, this article, appeared earlier this week: http://news.yahoo.com/s/livescience/20100905/sc_livescience/moreparentsredshirtingkindergartners

It's really got me thinking more about this whole parenting thing in general, and my own child in particular. Frank's birthday is September 20th. The cutoff date in our district is October 1st. Most people in this position, especially with a boy, would "hold back" their child until the September he turns six. We plan on sending him when he turns five, next year. The amount of crap we are getting for this decision is incredible. Everyone from my mother ("This is one of the worst possible educational decisions you could make for him. He will struggle for his entire educational career.") to coworkers ("I held back my son. It was the right decision. I'd do it again.") has an opinion on my son's education, or rather, when that education will officially start.

You're really damned if you do, and damned if you don't when it comes to parenting, I've found. It starts before birth, even: What kind of birth are you planning? You do have a birth plan, right? And, then, the birth itself: Really, you had a c-section? There are entirely too many c-sections in this country. They're not neccessary. Our ancestors gave birth in between working crops and humanity has turned out just fine. Then: What do you mean you're not breastfeeding??? Breast is best! It'll keep your kid from having ear infections! And so on.

I was prepared for a lot of things when I decided I wanted children. I was prepared to lose a lot of sleep, for starters, although, as an insomniac, I haven't noticed much difference from before baby to after. I was prepared to constantly worry about the child. I even knew there'd be a constant roller coaster of emotions that went with motherhood. (When you work in a field that is dominated by women, you learn stuff just by listening at the lunch table.)

I never thought I'd feel like I have to explain every decision I make for my child to people in my life who are not my child's other parent. No, I should not feel like I have to explain things to others, but in real life, I am incredibly nonconfrontational, and telling people to butt out is still a skill I have not yet developed fully.

As for the future kindergartener? Well, my husband and I have taken into account everything about him, his personality, his skills, and his physical development. The only thing that concerns me is the kids who will be a year or sometimes more older than he will be. My concern is that his behavior, which should be age-appropriate for chronological age five years zero months will look not as good compared to age appropriate behavior displayed by kids who are chronological age six years and zero months.

First Day of Pre-K

2010-09-08T21:24:00.003-04:00

Summer is over. Mr "I don't like change" had been visiting his pre-k class a few times over the last couple of weeks, and told me the other day, "You know, Mommy, pre-k is nice, but I really like my preschool class better." (Nice place to visit but I wouldn't want to live there?)

So, I didn't really have a huge amount of optimism for how today, the first full day of pre-k, would go. Call it a self-fullfilling prophecy, but it went pretty much as I had expected. He sobbed at home to each of us in turn, telling us how much he liked his preschool class and that he really didn't want to go to pre-k. No matter how much we tried to rationalize ("You didn't like preschool when you started last year! Mommy was nervous on her first day of school last week, and it's fine now! Daddy was nervous on his first day of his new job last week, and it's fine now!"), he's three going on four, and therefore incapable of rational thought.

I had to carry him into the building, and hold him, as he sobbed that he really didn't want to be there, and could I please not leave him there. I left to the sound of him sobbing, which, may I tell you, is not an awesome way to start one's day. But when I called later, around 9:30am, I discovered that he only cried for about five minutes after I left, and he was thrilled because he was the Helper of the Day. (All we have been able to get as explanation for what this entails is, "I held the door open for everyone!" Apparently this is a Very Big Deal when you are four, or nearly so.)

Anyway, he greeted me when I arrived to pick him up with, "I had a super day!" However, "Tomorrow I would really like to go back to my other class." Um, I hate to tell you, kid, but that is not how this whole school thing works...

Ladies and Gentlemen...

2010-08-02T19:53:00.001-04:00

He ate a bite of mac and cheese, chewed, and swallowed it, all without crying or fussing.

I feel like I won the NY Marathon.

Good News and Bad News

2010-08-01T19:09:00.000-04:00

Good news: He's taking mac and cheese more easily. He even chewed it instead of swallowed it whole tonight.

Bad news: He sobs more when Darrel's home and we do feeding than when it's just the two of us. I think he knows how much the screaming and crying sets Darrel off.

Good news: He's been (pee) accident-free at home for...hm, five days now?

Bad news: We sent him to daycare in underwear both days last week. What. A. Fiasco. He still refuses to use the potty there, and we cannot figure out why. He's willingly used the toilets at Target, three different diners, two different doctors' offices, my mother's, and a mechanic's, but he won't use the potty in the building he's gone to since he was five months old.

Good news: He hasn't soiled any underwear since Thursday.

Bad News: He hasn't pooped at all since Friday.

I blame this child for all my grey hairs.

I feel like I am at war.

2010-07-27T21:14:00.001-04:00

We keep Frank in underwear so long as we're home and he's awake. He gets a pullup for naptime and bedtime. Yesterday he kept his underwear dry all day long (yay!) but his naptime pullup was soaked through when he got up after an hour and a half (boo!). Today, he was dry all day long...until 5:45pm. Between 5:45pm and when Darrel got home at about 7pm, he wet or soiled five PAIRS of underwear. FIVE. The last pair was so heinous, I threw it out. I'm sorry, honey, poop is the one bodily thing I simply cannot handle without retching. A lot. I can (and have) catch vomit with my bare hands and not blink an eyelash, but I CANNOT handle poop. I could not handle it when he was a newborn, and now that there's more of it (and more stink to it), it's even worse.

Anyway, so we were on pair number five when I started yelling. Now, I worry about being a yeller, but I don't actually think I do it very often. For one thing, it seems to really get his attention. For another, he always sobs hysterically when I do yell at him. Once I'd calmed down, I apologized to him for yelling, cuddled him, and told him that even if I was angry and yelling, I still loved him, that I would always love him no matter what happened, etc.

We are both firmly convinced that he has the physical knowledge of when he needs to go, before he actually goes. He has tells, and he's a lousy liar, so when you ask him if he has to go poop, he gets a panicked look on his fac and says, "No!" I've tried putting him on the potty when I see this, but...yes, you guessed it, he holds it in until I take him off the potty and put pants on him!!! No one can tell me this kid does not have bowel control, that's for sure. I mean, not within the last week or so, but I've sat him on the toilet for a half hour at a time, and he holds it in until he's got pants on.

I make him help me clean his underwear when he wets or soils it, as per the suggestion of a college friend, I make him stand there and watch, him still in the wet-soiled pants, both of us silent, while I clean the mess from the floor, we've had stickers, we've had prizes, we've praised lavishly when he pees in the potty, we've called Grandma when there's a Big Potty Milestone, we've talked about ALL of his friends at school use the potty ful time...nothing seems to work.

So, after some quick private discussion, Darrel came up with an ultimatum: Tomorrow, the kid has to put some poop in the potty, or the TV gets turned off. Frabk looked horrified at this, and said he'd "try"...which he's been promising for months now, so I will believe it when I see it.

If I were a drinker, I would be well on my way to drunken bliss right now, that's how emotionally exhausting the day has been.

The only bright spot is, after only a couple of days of trying it, he seems somewhat intrigued by macaroni and cheese. He's thrown nowhere near the fits over this than he has for other foods. He loves salty foods, so we are hoping he takes to mac and cheese. *crosses fingers* It would make my month if we added a new food to his diet, even if it's not a fruit or veggie.

1000 Books, 1000 miles

2010-07-22T11:38:00.000-04:00

I read and post on a messageboard. One of the other posters on that board, C, is a teacher in Missouri. They had a flood at her school, and many of thier books were destroyed. I told her I'd ask around, and see if anyone here had any children's books they wanted to get rid of. I posted a plea for books on my school district's email board, and got a response back: a teacher at the middle school had had a book drive, the places she was supposed to donate the books to fell through, and did my friend in Missouri want about 1000 children's books?

The result? 1000 Books, 1000 Miles: The Project.

http://1000bookjourney.livejournal.com/

As of now, we still have some parts of the journey between Philly and eastern Ohio that are not yet covered. Once we get all legs of the journey covered, the books will start making their way from Somerset County, NJ, to Missouri.

Please repost to your blogs/Facebook pages/Twitter feed, etc. Even if you can only do a couple of miles, that will help tremendously. Many thanks!

Frustrations

2010-07-12T10:52:00.000-04:00

We had a family party Saturday. It was at Darrel's aunt and uncle's house, which is about ten minutes from here. I brought fish sticks for Frank's dinner, but nothing else, because I figured there'd be plenty of crackers or chips he'd be willing to eat. Well, I wasn't letting him eat potato chips- he's been having diarrhea again, and I think the oil in the chips makes it worse- but I thought there'd be enough other things he could eat that it wouldn't be an issue.

Well, it was an issue. Yes, they had Doritoes, but they didn't have the exact kind of Doritoes (Cool Ranch) that Darrel gets, so they looked different, so Frank wouldn't eat them. They had crackers but they weren't a kind Frank had ever eaten before, so he wouldn't eat them. They did have potato chips, but, again, I wasn't letting him eat those. I wanted to cry. Aunt had a box of Wheat Thins, so after Frank finished his fish sticks (comment from Aunt: "Oh, you're moving up in the world, Frank- eating more than just chicken nuggets now!"), I let him have all the Wheat Thins he wanted to have.

For dinner, they had burgers and dogs, mac and cheese, potato salad, etc- typical summer grill party type food. Frank doesn't eat any of those kinds of things. (Well, he couldn't eat potato salad or macaroni salad, because they have mayo in them, and mayo is made from eggs, which he's still allergic to.) There was another three-year-old there. not only was this kid fully potty trained, he played in the pool (which Frank doesn't like), and he ate whatever his parents put in front of him.

It's hard for me to decide what frustrates me the most- that my son won't eat many different types of foods, that he still is not nearly potty trained, that he doesn't want to do normal stuff like run through a sprinkler or play in a pool, fighting with insurance, or that I feel like I always have to make excuses for him to people who think we are entirely too permissive and let our kid run his life. I am starting to feel really drained by dealing with all this, and I feel sometimes like I just cannot handle it anymore. Darrel is getting so annoyed again about Frank's food issues, and I am unsure whether playing good cop/bad cop is a good thing, and will get Frank to try different things, or whether it is damaging to him. I'm just so confused and angry and frustrated- I was emotionally prepared for my kid to have lung problems, or immune problems, but never in my life did I even think there was a possibility he'd have a disorder that most of society has never heard of, and many who have heard of think it's BS.

Steel Magnolias

2010-06-25T19:29:00.000-04:00

I'm watching this movie, which I love and hadn't watched in...well, years. It's still near the beginning, just after when Shelby (Julia Roberst) starts to have insulin shock at the beauty parlor. While I have always cried at various parts in this movie, this is the first tiem I was moved to tears by this scene, specifically by Sally Fields' character, Shelby's mother, M'Lynn. (I'm not sure if I spelled the name right, but anyway.)

HERE THERE BE SPOILERS. IF YOU HAVE NEVER SEEN THIS MOVIE, STOP READING NOW.

When people talk about this movie, I've never heard them talk about Shelby as having grown up as a special needs child, with the obviously serious Type I diabetes. Her diabetes is so serious, the doctor has told her that pregnancy would endanger her health, a fact that is later proven to be true, when Shelby's kidneys fail after she has her son.

M'Lynn, as shown in this scene, obviously has spent Shelby's life being the pointman when it comes to her daughter's health. When Dolly Parton's character first realizes that Shelby is having a problem, she immediately calls for M'Lynn, who comes over to Shelby and begins to talk her through the episode, while their friends get orange juice and candy. In this dialogue between the two, you can see the long history they have- Shelby with her health issues, and fighting so desparately to be normal, and M'Lynn leading the charge in that fight.

It's very interesting- most people who look at Frank would never realize he's a special needs child, and, indeed, as compared to a lot of kids with SPD, he's really quite well off. The movie has made me think- how many kids do we see every day while out and about look "normal", but really have special needs?

Still got...something!

2010-06-22T19:35:00.001-04:00

He still has the stomach virus, or whatever this is. Today is Tuesday. Thursday will be two weeks. The doctor told me when I brought him last week that if he was not better by this Wednesday, to bring him back in. Guess what we're doing tomorrow morning.

He tracked poop all over his bedroom this evening.

I sure hope I laugh about this one day, because I am nowhere near laughing about this now.

D-Day

2010-06-21T12:39:00.000-04:00

That'd be d for dentist.

The good news is, he has no cavities. The bad news is, he sobbed and screamed throughout the entire thing. "Please stop! Please don't do that! Please stop!!!" It broke my heart having to lie there in the chair, with him on top of me, and hold him down, with my left arm across his chest and my right hand clamped down on his forehead. I'm amazed I didn't cry, to be honest.

He had some iron deposits along the front of his front bottom teeth, so she had to use the scraper thingie. His screams during this part were bloodcurdling. I can't really blame him- I hate that part, too!

I really wish these things were easier for him. I wish I could make it all better.

By the time I got him to daycare, he was pretty much okay, though, and ready to show off the prizes and stickers he got at the dentist's office. I guess it's good he seems to be pretty resilient in that regard- once the sensory assault is over, he usually snaps back to normal pretty easily.

He was pleased to hear we wouldn't have to do this again until after Christmas, "After Santa comes and brings me presents. That's a long time away, isn't it, Mommy?"

Graduation

2010-06-19T20:02:00.001-04:00

I work in a high school. Last night was Graduation. The graduates sit on the stage, in rows, girls on one side and boys on the other. When we interpret for Graduation, we need six people, always- two in front, for the audience, and two on the girls' side, facing the graduates, and two on the boys' side, also facing the graduates. Last night, I was backstage, on the boys' side, with coworker P. One deaf boy who graduted, J, I have known since he was about five years old. I interpreted for him at church and Sunday School for many years. His dad does contracting work for us sometimes, too.

So, at practice yesterday morning, J told me, I thought, that he wanted "an interpreter" to stand near the principal when they were awarding diplomas- he wanted the interpreter to let him and the other boys know when their names were said, so they would know when to start walking. I told him, "Okay, when Mrs P and I get here tonight, we'll figure out who's doing what, and it'll be taken care of."

"No," J said. "I want you to do it. You interpreted church, my baptism, confirmation, everything all those years, I've known you since I was five, I want you to do it."

I was a bit taken aback. J typically is not what you'd call a sentimental kid. He's a nice kid, to be sure, but he has Some Issues that I won't go into here, and high school for him has, on more than one occasion, been a rough road. But I was very touched, and told him, "Okay, I'll do it."

And I did. And it went well, the whole ceremony...even though this class (hearing and deaf) is, overall, kind of rowdy, so much so that for the first time in my memory, the principal assigned staff members to sit backstage to keep an eye on them. I've grown fond of some of the hearing kids, too, as always happens, and made sure to wish them luck and all that as well.

I made sure that J's parents took a picture of me with him after Graduation was all done. They promised they'd email it to me. I'm going to miss that kid.

Dentist!

2010-06-14T20:45:00.001-04:00

Frank has an appointment with his dentist next week. I am already dreading it. I am not the calmest dental patient you will ever meet, and bringing him to the dentist was worse when I brought him for the first time last November, because I had to pretend to be calm and happy. (At least with my dentist, I can let the fear fly!)

Oh, Lord, please let him not have any cavities. If he does, he is going to need to be sedated for the fillings, because I do not think I have enough physical and emotional strength to hold him down while they shoot Novacain into him and then drill his tooth.

Walk to Defeat ALS

2010-06-06T20:39:00.001-04:00

My coworker, P, and I walked today in Saddle Brook County Park. It was sketchy at first as to whether we'd even walk today, because there were predictions for thunderstorms all weekend. Like always, though, the weathermen were wrong- it was hot, and cloudy, and muggy, but no storms.

Together P and I raised $790. Nowhere near last year's high of roughly $1300, but it was still a pretty good amount. We did well on the walk, too- we walked the 5K in under an hour, and were one of the first groups to finish.

While we were eating and chatting with some other groups, a little girl wandered around our table. When I say little, I mean that- she was probably about 14 or 15 months old, old enough to walk, but not old enough to talk. P and I looked around and asked her where her mommy was. She looked around, chewed on the cookie she was carrying, and looked around again. P said, "You keep an eye on her- I'll get a cop." The little girl chose that moment to wander towards the swings, so I followed her.

She poked at the swings and I asked her again, "Where's your mommy? Show me your mommy." She looked around, and this time began to give me what we in my family call "boo-boo lip"- you know, when the lower lip starts quivering, just before they start crying? So I picked her up and started to the walk and jiggle- bounced her up and down on my hip while crooning, "It'll be okay, we'll find mommy." It was at this moment that P came back with the cop. The little girl burst into tears as he came close- he didn't seem at all surprised and told me, "It's the uniform- you keep holding her and follow me." So I did.

He walked all over the playground area, with me right behind him, asking different groups if they knew who she was. No one did for several minutes, and then a woman who looked to be about 50 said, "Oh, my God!" She came running over to us, and the little girl, who was crying by that point, reached her arms out to the woman. The woman babbled to the cop, "She was with her mom, they were over by the face-painting, oh my God!" The girl definitely knew her- as I said, she reached out to her, and stopped crying immediately as the woman took her- so I had no problem handing her over to her. The cop and the woman thanked me and P for our help, and he stayed to ask her some questions.

I really try not to judge people...but, okay, I will. I mean, when I am out anywhere in public with Frank, I am a lunatic. When I lose sight of him for two seconds on a playground, I immediately begin to freak out. When we go to Target, or the Library, he has to hold my hand or hold onto the shopping cart; when he was younger, he was in a stroller or the shopping cart.

Based on where the face painting was, as compared to where the playground was, the girl had to have wandered by herself for several minutes. There was a PA system set up- if a mother was looking for her child, we would have heard an announcement. How do you not keep track of a child that tiny in such a huge crowd for long enough for the kid to wander off that far??

I think the whole thing disturbed me so much (I mean, anyone could have picked that girl up and wandered off with her in that crowd) because she had such beautiful blue eyes, exactly like Niece #3, Little Brother's daughter. I keep picturing N#3 in that kind of situation.

In other news, Frank peed in the potty enough, and earned enough stickers on his chart, to win one of his Big Prizes this evening. He picked a Cars...thing. Some assembly required. Ugh. He still hasn't pooed in a potty yet, and now I hear he's giving them a hard time about sitting on the potty at school again. *sigh*

Buzz cut!

2010-06-02T20:21:00.000-04:00

We went for a haircut today. Haircuts for Frank consist of advanced warnings, beginning two days in advance: "Wednesday after school, we are going to get a haircut."

"But I don't like haircuts!"

"I know, but it needs to be done."

I decided that, it being hot, and because the poor child sadly has inherited my thin, fine hair, which makes it impossible to keep neat-looking, he was going to get a buzz cut. *waits for the groans from all the other SPD mommies* Yes, kids, he was going to get a cut that would require use of the electric trimmer for the entire haircut.

Frank, as noted above, does not like haircuts. He cringes when the stylist uses the electric trimmer (the buzzer, he calls it) to do his sideburns. (He has gotten pretty good with the scissors portion of the program, though- he sits there with a suffering in silence look on his face the whole time, but he no longer sobs hysterically through the whole thing like he used to.)

So, we got to the place we like to go. They are a children's haircut place, a chain, and they're walk-in. Sometimes we can go right in, and sometimes it's an hour wait. I prefer about 20 minutes or so- it's enough time for Frank to get himself accilmated to the sounds, smells, etc of the place, but not so long that he starts getting squirrely. When we got there today, they informed me it'd be about 15 minutes. Awesome. Cars was on the flatscreen, so all was right with the world. He sat on my lap, watched the movie, and I did squeezes on his body, head, and scratched his head a lot.

30 minutes later (yes, he was in fact getting squirrely. Lovely.) we got ushered in. The stylist has done his hair several times before, so she's somewhat familiar with his issues. She also speaks with a very sptrong Spanish accent, so when she talks to him, he always looks at me for translation. I told her that today I wanted a buzz cut, and pointed out another kid who was just leaving. "Buzzed, but not too short- like that kid."

Frank immediately piped up with something that had been on his mind for the last day or so, since I'd told him he'd be getting a buzz cut: "I don't want it to look like Daddy's!" The stylist has never met my husband, so she looked at me. "My husband has no hair," I told her. She stifled a laugh and said, "Okay, honey, it won't look like Daddy's. Promise!"

He did GREAT! I mean, he cringed a lot, and looked at one point like he was maybe getting a little teary-eyed, but my little man soldiered on and got himself through it with flying colors. The stylist gave him a couple of handheld toys to play with, and she played the dumb little movie on the screen by her station they always play for the kids during a haircut, and he made a huge effort to focus on the movie and the toys. I was really proud of him, and told him so. He's not crazy about the haircut, and told me that. I smiled and said, "I really like it, but if you still don't like it by the time we come here next time, you won't get it cut this short again."

As we always do, we walked to Target afterwards and I let him pick a small prize out. He picked out this obnoxious Cars Chick Hicks thing that makes a lot of noise, and is very repetitive. He loves it. I already want to throw it in the backyard- maybe it'll keep the bears away! (For a kid for whom loud sudden noises can be upsetting sometimes, he sure does like the noisiest, most obnoxious toys!)

I am not ready for this.

2010-06-01T20:28:00.000-04:00

Okay, he's three.

And today he asked me, on the way into daycare, "So, Mommy, how did the baby get into Aunt M's tummy?" (Aunt M is my brother's wife. She's pregnant. I told Frank last week.)

I said "after hemming and hawing for a few seconds, "We'll talk about it after school, honey. It's a little too complicated to talk about now." He cheerfully accepted that, buying me some time. (I also prayed he'd actually forget he asked the question.)

When I got to school, I asked a whole bunch of coworkers, experienced parents all, what exactly you tell a three-year-old who asks that question. Consensus overwhelmingly went with, "God did it."

So, when I picked him up after school, and he remembered to ask again, I was ready. "God put the baby there, honey," I told him. Much to my surprise, he actually accepted that without asking anymore questions. Bullet dodged for today!

Next time he asks the Question, though, my answer is going to be, "Go ask Daddy."

Disney!

2010-05-31T20:35:00.000-04:00

We have decided we are going to Disney World next year. At first, we thought going in April during my break would be a good plan- it'd be cooler, and less crowded. Not so much- my break occurs either the week before or the week after Easter each year, and according to the book and the websites, that is one of the most heinously crowded times of the year to go! It's also much more expensive. Hm. So, it's back to summer now. We're thinking probably mid to late August, because kids in the south are back in school by then.

So, we're starting to look into things. We need to get a suite with a couple of bedrooms, and a kitchen, because neither of us is optimistic about Frank being able to sleep with us in the room with him or about him eating any regular breakfast food by then. Yes, we realize he'll be nearly five, it's well over a year away, much can change by then, but still.

There's much to consider in this plan. Like many in my family, Frank does not handle extreme heat all that well. *looks around innocently* Yes, okay, I admit it- he comes by it rightly!

Frank, like many kids with SPD, does not handle change well at all. And a Disney vacation is chock full of change, starting with his very first airplane ride. He'll be sleeping somewhere that's not his room, which is difficult for him, and eating and sleeping schedules will be a bit off. (At least Orlando is the same time zone as we are, so we won't have to add jet lag into the mix!)

Then there's the crowds...and the colors...and the bright lights...and the NOISE. Never mind the BO from all the other people there. The kid may need Valium. Hell, I may need Valium!

Frank is quite enthusiastic about this so far. He wants to ride the Dumbo ride, and says that as soon as he sees Mickey, he's going to run up to him and give him a hug, and he wants to eat dinner with Mickey one night. I'm trying to be cheerful and upbeat about this, to keep him in the spirit of it, but part of me is worried. Darrel is so looking forward to this- he loves Disney, too- and I'm afraid he'll be disappointed if it's too overwhelming for Frank and the kid does not have an amazing time.

Any other SPD parents out there done the Disney thing? How did it go for you? Do you have any tips for me?

Really? One case proves it doesn't exist??

2010-05-31T18:30:00.000-04:00

http://www.lacrossetribune.com/lifestyles/relationships-and-special-occasions/article_9ac24f88-68fe-11df-bdb0-001cc4c002e0.html?mode=story

This guy seems to think that because his method worked for this girl, that means SPD does not exist. Someone needs to explain a few things to him. (And I'd be happy to do so, except for the fact that the Leave A Comment function seems to be disabled. Hmmm...)

1. I'm not a scientist, but even I know that anecdote does not equal data. (Thank you to the smart folks at the messageboard for snopes.com for teaching me this!)

2. Notice the girl was allowed to pick out her won clothing even after "discipline" was established.

3. Of course, kids are never misdiagnosed with anything. It's totally not a possibility that this ONE CHILD was misdiagnosed and the misdiagnosis happened to be SPD. Does this mean that because some kids are misdiagnosed as having ADHD that ADHD does not exist, too?

4. Also possible- maybe the girl was too visually stimulated by everything that had been in her room up until that point.

5. She could have just given up because she realized her parents were not going to tolerate her trying to communicate her sensory issues to them. This, to me, is the saddest possibility of all.

Questions, questions

2010-05-17T19:25:00.000-04:00

So, after peeing like a champ in the potty for a couple of weeks, Frank simply...stopped. Why? I asked him, point-blank, if it was because we didn't have any more prizes, and he told me yes.

I was annoyed, but a bit unsure as to what to do: I mean, he'll eventually have to use the toilet without the promise of a reward at the end, and he does know what to do, and what that feeling of needing to go feels like now...but maybe it's too soon to wean him off prizes for it? Darrel made a decision:

"Frank, you are a big boy. You know how to use the potty now. You do not need prizes. You WILL go pee-pee in the potty every day from now on!"

Picture the above said by a six-foot-three-inch tall bald man, glaring down at a three-foot-two-inch tall preschooler. I expected tears. What my husband got for his tirade was a very meek, "Okay, Daddy, I'll do that." And he does.

The same went with the McDonald's Chicken McNuggets. Darrel informed Frank, in very no-nonsense tones, that he WOULD in fact be eating that chicken, and if he didn't eat it tonight, he'd get it for dinner tomorrow night, and so on. So, tonight, the third meal he was presented with the chicken, what did he do? Well, first, in a gesture tried by children who have pets in the house across the nation, he tried the "Oops, my food fell on the floor! Oh, look, the cat is eating it!" move. Let's just say, he needs to work on subtlty here- he basically pulled this right in front of us. Madison, the cat in question, reacted with glee and trotted right over, only to be thwarted by both of us yelling, "Frank, pick that up and eat it NOW!" in unison. Madison scrambled for cover. Frank sobbed and picked up the chicken and proceeded to nibble on it.

He eventually ate all the chicken tonight.

His OT, D, told me several months ago that quite freqently, food issues like his often become a behavioral issue as opposed to just the physical issue we started out with. It seems this is what is happening now. I am so torn by this- I don't want to force him to do something that is physically painful/unpleasant/whatever for him, but at the same time, if it's something he can handle, and needs to be pushed, well, he needs to be pushed. But how do you know which is which? How do you know when he's using his history to manipulate things, and when something is truly not right for him?

Sleep and food

2010-05-16T18:24:00.000-04:00

Okay, so we've put him to bed at 8pm, instead of 7:30pm, the last two nights, and have limited his naptime to one hour. The result so far is that he's awakened at about 6:30am instead of 5:30am. An improvement, I guess, but not enough for either one of us. (Edited to add: It is now 8:30pm, and he is still singing to himself.)

Darrel went out last night and got McDonald's for us. He bought a four-pack of chicken McNuggets, and gave them to Frank at lunchtime today. Frank has not eaten any of them. I told Frank that was fine if he wasn't hungry at lunchtime; he could eat them for dinner. (He's eaten McDonald's nuggets before, which is why we are digging our heels in on this issue.) He's announced he is not hungry for dinner. *sighs* That's fine- he'll have them for dinner tomorrow night.

It's like this with everything food-related, it seems like. If he doesn't eat something at least every other day, it's like we're introducing something totally new again. It's incredibly frustrating, especially so when we KNOW he's happily eaten the object before.

Still working on the vitamins, too...

Tired

2010-05-14T20:15:00.000-04:00

Oh my word, I am tired. Bone tired, where your arms and legs feel like they weigh about a thousand pounds each.

I worked last night, strictly volunteer. It was for a fundraiser connected with the district I work in. The fundraiser was very successful- there was an Anonymous Donor who gave a Ton of Money for something specific, in addition to all the much smaller checks that were written. (Oh, and I met a Famous Deaf Person, too- if you know me in real life, check out my Facebook page for a picture with said Famous Deaf Person.)

I got home at shortly after 10pm, but didn't fall asleep until after 11pm, because I simply cannot wind down that quickly. Now, in between school and the fundraiser, I had come home and showered, specifically so I wouldn't have to do that this mo9rning, which would have worked out awesomely- when I shower in the morning, I get up at 5:45am, and when I don't have to, I get up usually around 6:10am. However. My husband had to go to Philadelphia this morning for a daylong meeting with the company he does consulting work for. This meeting started at 8am. We live a good two and a half hours from Philly on a good traffic day. You do the math.

Yes, Darrel was awake and getting ready by about 4:30am, and left at about 5am. I, the insomniac, never really went back to sleep after that. Not his fault, obviously, that the two things happened to be within twelve hours of each other, but telling myself that didn't help much as I lay there at 5:15am, trying to will myself back to sleep for another 45 minutes or so.

What does this have to do with my son, you ask me? The little bugger, who rises with the sun each morning, (I wish I were making that up, I really do, especially since, according to my local weatherman, it's rising at about 5:35am these days.) was wide awake and talking to my husband as my husband got ready to leave. At 5am.

*sigh*

And, he didn't seem that tired this evening when we put him down. I mean, sure, he went down easily enough, because it's the same time we put him down each night, but right now, it's nearly 8:30pm, and he's still singing to himself. When does this kid sleep? Why does he have so much energy and we both feel like we've been hit by Mack trucks? And does anyone have any advice for getting a three-year-old to sleep past the buttcrack of dawn???

At last!

2010-05-11T19:47:00.000-04:00

Frank has peed in the potty at school, the last frontier for him! He was very pleased to show me his new toy he picked out of the prize bag I got for him at school, and yet seemed kind of embarrassed when I made a bigger deal out of the peeing than I did the toy. He was definitely proud of himself when we got home and I told Darrel all about it, though.

It's hard to say who was more excited by this development, me or his head teacher, N. She ran over to me when I walked in the door and gleefully told me all the details of what happened. Of course, he'll probably completely master this skill by the time June ends and it's time for him to leave for the summer, anyway...

I had been asking him a few times recently to "read" one of his books to me, and he'd always responded with, "I don't know how." This afternoon, I got him to "read" two of his books to me, and then Darrel got him to "read" a third. Darrel was quite amazed at how many sentences Frank knows verbatim from the Curious George book. He should- Darrel's read that book to him almost every night for going on three weeks now.

Mothers' Day

2010-05-09T19:34:00.000-04:00

Nearly four years into this gig as mommy, and I'm still taken aback when people wish me happy mothers' day. I always have this moment of *blink*, oh, they mean me! I mean, yes, Frank calls me Mommy every day of his life. ("Mommy? Mommy! Mommy...") But I have this vision in my head of what a Mommy really is, and I feel most of the time like I don't live up to that. Yes, I care for him, and cuddle him, and teach him, and fight for him, but still...there's this thing that we have about mothers, putting them on pedestels, almost, and I certainly am not worthy of that!

I think about my own mother. My mother, those who know her will agree, is not a warm fuzzy mommy. My mother in years past would have been called a Tough Broad. She's an RN, retired now, forced into early retirement by ALS. At age 63, she has lived in assisted living for almost two years, and is still by about ten years the youngest person who lives in her building. This June, it will have been seven years since her ALS diagnosis; she was having trouble with her feet for several years before she received the diagnosis. When she leaves her room at the home, she is almost completely wheelchair-bound now, a state which I know must infuriate this woman who has spent so much time taking care of others, both professionally and personally, as well as herself. For me, her oldest child, watching this slow deterioration, the thing that hurts the most is knowing that such a strong, independent woman cannot take care of herself anymore, and cannot fix this, no matter how much she wants to.

It's the not being able to fix it, I think, that gets me. I have many health problems. When I was little, and I was in an out of hospitals for well over a year, there was even some question I know now, as to whether I would live to adulthood. For a while it was thought I had cystic fibrosis, as well as other illnesses. It turns out what I had was something different- bronchiectasis, a lung disorder that at the time was mostly found in old people, and msot of them died within ten years of receiving their diagnosis. (It has since been discovered more and more in younger people who go on to live normal lifespans. Indeed, it seems that the reason prognosis was so poor for it in 1978 was because most of the old people being diagnosed with it at the time would have died within ten years anyway, because they were old!) I also have a Primary Immune Deficiency.

What all of this means is I get sick a LOT. (It also means that choosing to make a career of working with kids may not be the most intelligent career choice I could have made!) One year I was absent from school for 30 days. I was the kid whose attendence you look at and say, "I don't understand how this kid is passing, because she's never here!"

The answer is simple: I passed because of my mother. In a time before IDEA, my mother established an agreement with teachers at the beginning of each school year. Not only would I be able to excuse myself to get some water any time I wanted, without asking the teacher, but any time I was absent, they got all my work together and sent it to the main office. Mom would pick it up, and make sure I did it all. This meant that when I got back to school, whether a day or a week later (or, in the case of chicken pox, two and a half weeks later), the only things I generally needed to make up were tests.

My mother never let me feel sorry for myself, or use my physical limitations as an excuse. I took regular Gym classes. (I kinda would have liked an excuse note or two there, Mom.) I sang in choirs from fourth grade right on up through senior year of high school. I fenced for four years on my high school's fencing team, and went to fencing day camp during the hot 90+ degree summers. I was never, ever allowed to use one of my absences as an excuse for not doing homework or not getting something. "If you don't get it," she said. "It's your repsonsibility to go to the teacher and ask for help."

Mom drilled me all of fourth grade on my times tables. She quizzed me on spelling words. She never proofread essays for me, because she freely admitted that my writing skills were better than hers by the time I was in the sixth grade. That year, I tested as reading at the college level. (I always had a very sophisticated vocabulary as a child. I have a feeling that was at least partly because of all the time I spent in the compay of medical people.) But she made sure my homework and projects were completed on time.

Now I am 38 years old. I am married and a mother. I have a job I enjoy (when not overrun by beaurocracy) and two college degrees, both of which I essentially paid for myself. I got the second one while working three jobs and going to school at night. I have had the courage to travel overseas, and speak a foreign language with native users of that language. I now fight for my child, who also has special needs, albeit needs much different than mine.

All that I am today, I am because of my mother. She is feisty, argumentative, stubborn, loyal, devoted, and loving. She is Mom, and I love her. Happy Mothers' Day, Mom.

Thursday

2010-05-06T21:04:00.001-04:00

Frank continues to do well with the toilet here at home. The phrase that seems to be evolving as his catchphrase is, "I need to do something in the potty." Each time he goes, he really only squeezes out a few drops, but I guess he's learning to identify that feeling, and eventually he'll learn to be able to hold it a bit and let out more than a few drops at a time. He has yet to pee in the toilet at school, though. He sits quite nicely for them now, several times a day (thank you, Cars potty seat!). His teacher, N, tells me that he'll sit for twenty minutes, singing to himself, smiling and chatting with the other kids as they come and go, and really seems quite relaxed about it all now.

This morning in the car, he told me he wants to wear Big Boy underwear to school Monday. "Okay, honey," I told him. "But that means you have to go pee pee and poo poo in the potty at school, and you haven't done that yet. When you do that, then you can wear the underwear to school." He seemed to accept that, and assured me he would do that. I have a feeling that was his motivation for sitting on the potty, no lie, for a half hour today immediately after nap- I think he was trying to squeeze out something, anything! He also has a prize bag at school, too, for when he starts going there- I wanted to make sure he gets instant gratification when he starts producing there.

I only hope I said the right thing, in telling him he's not allowed to wear it until he starts peeing in the potty at school. I wanted to try and make it seem alluring to him, like something to shoot for. Maybe I should have said okay, and let him wet himself a few times Monday, anyway? We'll see. We'll try him out Saturday during the day in underwear and see how he does.

They had "muffins with Mom" at daycare today, too. They made the muffins, and the kids also made little flower pots with different-colored cutouts of their hands as the flowers. It's really cute. He also made me a card on construction paper. On the front is his handprint. His handprint! In bright red paint! Six months ago, getting his hand covered in bright red paint would have sent him into hysterics!! And N told me he was really into it, and was very calm about the whole thing.

We're still working on getting him to eat a chewable vitamin, and he still eats a godawful diet, but he fingerpaints! And gets his hands dirty in the name of art! To me, these things, so ordinary to others, are miracles.

Three times!

2010-05-04T19:57:00.000-04:00

He peed three times in the potty this afternoon, and all three of them were self initiated! We are so excited. It's crazy- it's like this switch just went on in his head.

Oh, and he actually ASKED to fingerpaint in school today. "Blue fingerpaint. It's a good fingerpaint color," he told me proudly. The daycare director told me about it, and she was as excited and proud as I was!

It was his idea this time!

2010-05-02T21:07:00.000-04:00

So, this evening, Frank and Darrel were in the living room, watching TV. (I was upstairs.) Frank went over to Darrel, who was sitting in the recliner, and said something like, "I think I have to do something...but I'm holding it." So Darrel brought him upstairs and sat him on the potty.

He read three Curious George books, and then Frank told him, "I think I want to be alone for a while." So, Darrel left him in there, after reminding him that, if he does anything, Mommy and Daddy have to see the pee pee or poo poo in the potty for him to get a prize, so don't flush.

A minute later, Frank sang out, "I think I'm done!" Darrel went in to check, and sure enough, there was pee in the toilet (and on the floor)! We praised him lavishly and let him pick a prize, and then we called Darrel's mom, who also praised him lavishly. He's quite pleased with himself, and informed me that he is bringing the Disney figurine he picked out of the bucket to school to show his teachers tomorrow.

So...it was his idea this time...that must mean he's really ready to do it, right? Right?

My son is displeased with me.

2010-05-01T17:14:00.001-04:00

The Knetucky Derby is on today. It's on right now, actually. Well, right now is what we in my house call the "pre-game show". I love horses. I love horse racing. This event is my Super Bowl. This event is on my list of things to do in person before I die. I am taping it and watching at the same time.

Anyway, the boy. He just came upstairs, and tried to wheedle his way onto the computer. "No, I am doing Mommy things on the computer now," I told him.

"Okay," he said, pulling out my desk chair and sitting on it. "Then can you turn on a Frankie show?"

"Nope," I told him. When he gave me a shocked look, I explained. "Do you see those horsies on TV?" I asked him. When he nodded, I told him, "This horse race is very very important to Mommy. Mommy will watch it. Mommy will listen to it. You can watch with me, but you have to be quiet."

He went downstairs to watch his shows and play with his toys. ;)

Differing views

2010-04-28T21:26:00.000-04:00

My husband thinks I worry too much. I worry about Frank's nutrition. (Well, obsess on it is probably slightly more accurate.) I worry about him wearing the appropriate coat for the weather...even though time and again he has proven to me that he is in fact far warmer blooded than I am in situations where I've been huddled up in a coat and he's been gleefully running around in jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt. (I believe this is a male thing and not a sensory thing, because my husband, my brother, and...well, yeah, every man I know, is always warmer than I am.) Frank also flat-out refuses to use a blanket at night to sleep, even in the depths of winter. I worry about what will happen if I lose against my insurance company and we can't get him OT regularly anymore. I also worry about kindergarten. Should I ask for an IEP? 504 Plan? Wait and see? Should we start him when he's five (his birthday is in September) or when he's six? What food will he be eating by then? Will he fit in, or will his classmates make fun of him for his quirks?

I should remind you that the boy in question is three, and will be four in September...which reminds me of another worry: what will happen if he doesn't potty train by then? Will he be able to still go into pre-K? And what if he's not toilet trained by age five- will they give us a hard time about kindergarten?

My husband, on the other hand, doesn't seem at all worried about any of these things. He's sure that time will sort through all these things. He thinks that I worry too much about how he'll be in kindergarten: "It's not like he's got the huge body problems that some kids with the disorder have." No, but we don't know what'll happen once he has to sit in one chair a lot during the day.

How about the rest of you with kids who have special needs- do you find that fathers have different (lower) levels of worry than mothers do?

Pizza

2010-04-26T20:02:00.000-04:00

The daycare Frank attends provides lunch each day as part of tuition, something we have seldom taken advantage of because of Frank's SPD. Now, however, he eats chicken fingers, and I am determined he will eat the pizza. (He eats pizza bagel here at home.) So, today was pizza day at daycare, and on my lunch period, which blessedly coincides with his, I went over to daycare to put a small piece of pizza in his mouth.

It went better than I expected- he didn't scream bloody murder. He did cry a lot, though, and mash his lips together. I had him touch the piece, then I touched the piece to his lips, and then I got it in his mouth. He held it there, with his mouth gaping open, as he does whenever he has something new- to have it touch as little of his mouth cavity as possible, I think. I let him keep it there for about 30 seconds, and then, time being what it was, I okayed him spitting it out into a napkin. (Usually, we tell him the new food has to stay in his mouth until he chews and swallows it- normally, that takes about 15-20 minutes, involves much drooling, and he cries throughout, and I didn't feel like dealing with that in the limited time I had before my next class.

I told Darrel about it this evening, and we've decided to get more aggressive with food. Much of SPD, his OT told me, can become behavioral rather than actual physical sensation- he's sure it'll be horrible, and it therefore is. He eats pizza bagel here at home, he eats fish sticks here at home, he eats chicken nuggets here at home. Well, he now eats chicken fingers almost anywhere we go out to eat, which is nice, but I want to expand his dining out palate now.

We are still spinning our wheels with toileting- no further successes since that one time. *sigh*

Insurance sucks and blows at the same time.

2010-04-22T20:41:00.000-04:00

So, every three months for the last two years, I've had to call my insurance company up and harrass them into approving another 12 visits of OT for Frank. No, the SPD has not been cured. Yes, he still needs OT. Well, a few weeks ago I got a letter from the Evil Empire saying that they are denying payment for any further visits because, essentially, my insurace plan does not cover OT services for developmental issues unless the issue comes from an accident or illness. In other words, if Frank got SPD from being in a car accident, we'd be golden. A disorder he's had since birth? Yeah, not so much.

I called and asked, politely, WTF was this about??? The first woman I spoke with there said that maybe it was because of the code the provider entered in when they sent the paperwork to insurance, and to resubmit everything. I called the provider and relayed this info.

I would like to take this moment to say that A, the woman who handles all this crap for the provider, is a saint. Anyone who can deal with Evil Empires of all sizes all day long and still smile has to be a saint. A thought it was rather odd, especially since she'd used all the codes she'd been using for the last two years, but resubmitted it. I called today to find out if she'd heard anything, and as it happens, they'd just gotten info back from the Evil Empire today- denied.

So I called the Evil Empire. Representative number 1, after listening to my story, thought it was odd, too. She passed me along to Claims- "Maybe they can figure out what's going on." Claims lady, after looking over my file, said my plan didn't cover this type of OT.

"But you've been covering it for two years!" I said.

"Did your plan change recently?"

"Not that I'm aware of," I snapped.

She passed me along to Appeals, which is the next step. The voicemail at Appeals said that their office hours are 9-5, Monday-Friday, and to leave a detailed message, along with my ID number, and my call would be returned as soon as possible. I looked at my watch while I waited for the beep: 4:15pm. Last tiem I checked, that is 45 minutes before 5pm, which means they should have been answering their freaking phone.

I left the required detailed message, hung up, went to get my kid, bring him home, and told the latest chapter to my husband...and ended up crying out of frustration. (Side note: I am a cryer. I cry with sadness, happiness, at sappy movies, while reading the last Harry Potter book, and with rage and frustration. Poor Darrel sometimes is not quite sure what to make of this.)

They better get back to me and get this sorted out. It's one thing for them to try and screw with me and my health (which they have done in the past, and I almost died as a result), but Do. Not. Screw. With. My. Kid!

In the meantime, since we cannot afford to pay for OT ourselves, we've suspended it until we do get it sorted out. Which sucks, because he really needs it, and I need to talk to D, the OT, about things that come up with the kid.

Cape May weekend

2010-04-19T20:17:00.000-04:00

We spend a weekend in Cape May, NJ every spring. Before Frank was born, Darrel and I stayed at a B&B, the Victorian Lace Inn. The same people who own the Inn also own a small condo building across the street (two condos), so we stay there now that we have Frank. It has two bedrooms, and basically anything we'd need. Last year, Frank did okay with walking across the sand at first, but tired very quickly, and he had a very hard time sleeping because it wasn't his room at home.

This year, there was some improvement. He fell asleep very easily, although he was awake between five and six am each morning. I suspect that's because the blinds there let in far more light than the blinds in his room at home. Also, there's no clock in the room there, something we'll have to remember for future vacations- we've been showing him different times on his clock, and I have a picture of his clock taped below the real clock, showing 7:30, to show him when is a good time to call out to us he's ready to wake up. (If he wakes up before that, he's supposed to play quietly in his room until then, which he usually does fairly well.) Darrel had moved the mattress from the twin bed in Frank's room to the floor, too, which helped Frank to feel more comfortable, too.

We weren't terribly organized about getting him on the potty, so there were no further potty successes. However, he had a good time playing in the sand. April is far too cold in NJ to go swimming, but we brought his beach toys, and he spent well over an hour building a volcano with us and pouring water over it. He didn't get tired of walking on the sand until we were done and walking back, but I think even a perfectly normal three-year-old would have tired somewhat at that point, too.

We ate out a few times, and ordered chicken fingers at each place for him, and he actually ate those pretty well, too. Usually he tends to become more regimented on trips, and will only eat something from "our" kitchen, so this was a pleasure for both of us to see. (He didn't eat the leftovers, though- we always get doggie bags for whatever he doesn't finish- but you can't have everything, right?)

He was quite relieved to get home and into his own bathtub and bed last night, and fell asleep easily. He talks about the trip like he had a good time, though, which is very different from our vacation in Delaware last summer- the whole time, he kept asking when we were going home, and afterwards, if someone asked him if he liked the beach house, and did he have fun, he always said no. With this past weekend's trip, though, when his daycare teachers asked him this morning if it was fun, he beamed and said yes...which warmed his mommy's heart.

Ladies and gentlemen...

2010-04-15T21:14:00.000-04:00

...at long last, we have pee pee in the potty! And there was much rejoicing and celebration throughout the land.

This evening, Darrel had to go out, and I did all the bath and bedtime stuff. When Frank and i came upstairs, I told him to disrobe and put his clothing in the hamper and his diaper in the garbage, which he does every night. I cleaned his rear off, and then we went into the bathroom to start his bath. I turned the water on and said, "Okay, while we're waiting, let's sit on the potty for a minute." He sat there for about two minutes, then he got up and said, "I need to flush." He enjoys flushing the toilet, even when there's nothing in there, so I looked in the bowl, and this time, the water was indeed a bit yellow. Just to be sure, I checked the underside of the potty seat, and it wa sin fact wet! So, I asked, with a big grin on my face, "Did you go pee pee?" he shrugged and nodded and said, "Yeah, I guess so."

I promptly began to celebrate. I congratulated him and told him how proud I was and let him flush. I also told him he could pick a toy out of his prize bucket as soon as he was done with his bath. His face lit up- he's been looking longingly at those little prizes in the bucket for months! I called Darrel and told him, and called my mother in law and left her a message. (After he was in bed, I called my mother...I knew I'd be on the phone with her for a while.) After the bath, Frank picked a prize out, and he took it to bed with him, too. He looked longingly at his Big Prize, a Thomas thing that's sitting on the bathroom counter, and asked if he could have that, and I said, "No, honey, remember? That's for when you use the potty all the time for pee pee and poo poo, and when you wear big boy underwear all the time." He thought it over, and then said, "Okay, Mommy, I'll do that."

While I am not delusional enough to think that it's really going to be that easy, I am thrilled we have a start. Happy belated birthday present to me!! :)

And the results are in...

2010-04-13T18:43:00.001-04:00

He sat just fine on the school potty today, after I brought the second potty seat from home to use there. "He sat for a long time, too!" the teacher told me. Mommy for the win! (He hasn't done anything in the potty yet, but hey, it's something.)

I do realize this means we'll eventually have to wean him away from using the Cars potty seat, but I'll worry about that after he's potty trained...

Toilet training

2010-04-12T20:23:00.000-04:00

We're on that again. I spent a lot of the last few days looking at sites for parents of SPD kids, and posted a query on a couple of them, asking for advice regarding potty training. I got a variety of responses, most of them basically saying, "Yeah, good luck with that- my kid is 4/5/6 and we're still working on it."

That's so not what I wanted to hear. I don't care about night time dryness right now, I really don't. But every kid in his daycare class, even the ones younger than he is, are using the potty at least some of the time. What makes it a bit harder on me, I think, is the fact that he otherwise presents as a "normal" kid- as in, other people looking at him and wondering why this normal kid is still in diapers. Yes, he is only three and a half, but he goes from preschool into pre-K this fall, and I don't think they let the kids go to pre-K until they're potty trained. Also, next March, when we're looking at kindergarten screening, it'll go worse for us/him if he's not yet trained, as far as him starting the September he turns five instead of the September he turns six. (That's a whole different issue, best covered in another post.)

He now sits on the potty at home for us just fine, although he hasn't done anything in the potty. He fights them on it at school. I took him to the potty at school today, when I picked him up, just before we left, to see what he'd do, and he fought me, too. Tomorrow I am bringing the potty seat we use here (we have two identical ones) to see if that helps with the screaming bloody murder. When I asked him what he thought, he seemed to like the idea- he said the school potty is "cold and hard", while his potty seat is "soft, but still a little cold". Yes, I do realize I am setting us up for him refusing to sit on any potty that doesn't have the Cars theme on it, but I'd rather him at least try to sit on the potty without incident right now.

Just when I think things are really starting to improve for him (and us), we encounter something like this to make me wonder why. Why does he have to have this thing that will color everything he will do his entire life? Why does it have to be something nobody outside the autism community has ever heard of, and we have to explain and re-explain every damn day? I sometimes finding myself wishing he had something quantifiable. I mean, my lung and immune issues, you can look at a CT scan and bloodwork and see what a mess I am. SPD, though...there's no test that can prove to people, "See? It's real!" That, I think, might be the hardest part.

One step forward, two steps back?

2010-04-11T20:08:00.000-04:00

Frank refused to eat the leftovers from last night's chicken fingers. Not only did he refuse them, he pushed the plate away and dissolved into a pool of hysterics. Darrel and I have learned that if we try and calm him down, that only feeds the beast, so we sat there and chatted lightly while eating our lunches, raising our voices to be heard, about other topics, while Frank moaned and wailed and writhed around in anguish on the kitchen floor.

I know his cranky mood was probably something of a "hangover", if you will, from yesterday. He slept GREAT- we heard NOTHING from him until damn near 8am- so we can't blame the mood on not enough sleep. He napped, too, for nearly two hours. (When I say napped, I mean he was in his room, with the light off, for that time. I think he actually sleeps for about an hour to an hour and a half.)

However, after the great day he had yesterday, his mood was a big downer for me. Is this always going to happen with him??

I went out and pulled weeds for about an hour while he napped. Gardening, sinking my hands into soil, always makes me feel better, about pretty much anything.

I wish I could solve his problems that easily.

Long day

2010-04-10T19:32:00.000-04:00

Today was a day that had much potential for sensory overload and meltdown:

1. Haircut- 10am
2. Birthday party- 2-3:30pm; Frank usually naps from about 1-3pm, so this basically was getting him up right in the middle of his normal nap time.
3. Dinner at Charlie Brown's with Mommy and Daddy

Aside from the last 20 minutes at Charlie Brown's, when he began acting like the three-year-old that he is, he handled everything beautifully!

Haircuts tend to be difficult for any child with SPD. There's the unfamiliar sounds of a salon (hair dryer, other kids, a lot of people talking, clippers). There's the smells (shampoos, conditioners, styling products). There's the sights (usually bright, so the stylists can, you know, see what they're doing). There's the feel of it (Think about how it feels to you when a tiny bit of hair gets stuck under your shirt. Now magnify that feeling.) and even the taste (hair in your mouth, anyone?).

When I take Frank for a haircut, I take him to a place that is for kids. It's a walk-in place, which means, depending upon the day and time we get there, we can either be seen right away, or we could be there 45 minutes, or anywhere in between. I personally prefer something of a wait- it gives Frank time to adjust himself to the things going on there, and gives us time to do deep pressure before he gets called. Today the wait was 30 minutes, which was good- he had time to roam around, watch a little of the movie they showed, and sit on my lap for some squeezes, both on his abdomen and his head.

He really did a great job! Part of the reason for his success was, when I told the woman who was cutting his hair that he had SPD, she seemed to know what I was talking about, and, without me even asking, she told him and showed him what was going to happen next at each step. "(Okay, Frank, I'm going to spray some water on your hair. Ready?" "Now I'm going to use the scissors. See them?" "Okay, now I'm going to use the clippers here-" touches each sideburn "- and here." touches back of neck)

We got back from the haircut, lollipop and prize in hand, watched a little TV, and then I put him in for an early nap, at noon. He sang to himself for a good 45 minutes before sleeping. At 1:30pm, I got him up, changed his diaper, and we went to the birthday party. The party was at New York Sports Club, about a 20 minute drive from here.

Birthday parties for any small child can be sketchy, and for children with SPD, they have the potential to be so much worse. Just think about the other little kids, running around, screaming with excitement, running into each other, the food, etc. For Frank, they're a crapshoot- depending upon the type of venue, how much sleep he's had, the phase of the moon (okay, maybe not that, but I swear sometimes it is), he could either love a party or sob miserably on my shoulder for most of it.

Today was a good day. They played with a parachute, and he even went under it with all the other kids (and me, but I was not the only parent dragged under with her kid). They then played with a bunch of large exercise balls, and he had a wonderful time, running around, pushing a ball that was bigger than he is. Then we all paraded into another room for food. As I do pretty much anywhere, I'd brought a few selections of foods he likes. I didn't know what food was being served, so I brought some different things to try to match up with what the rest of the kids were eating as much as possible. Today, blessedly, they served potato chips, pretzels, tortilla chips, and then cake. Frank loves crunchy things, especially chips and pretzels, so he shoveled the food in like everyone else.

The birthday boy, like Frank, also has food allergies, and the mother had made a batch of cupcakes that were egg and milk free just to make sure Frank could have some cake. (She let her son, also allergic to milk, eat birthday cake, but she knows we're really strict about Frank having any access to food he's allergic to.) It was really very sweet, and I thanked her profusely. Frank, of course, was not going to eat the cupcake, so I told her he'd pigged out on the chips, was totally full, and we'd bring the cupcake home for him to have after dinner tonight.

On the way to birthday parties, I always rehearse things with Frank. "Okay, when we're at the party, if someone asks you if you want some cake, what do you say?"

"No, thank you."

"What if they can't hear you, and they put the cake on your plate, anyway? Do you cry or push it away?"

"No, I leave it there and eat my food."

So, today, he had the cupcake sitting next to him, and one of the employees working the party who was helping to serve the cake to the kids put a slice of cake down at Frank's place. Frank touched his arm and said, "No, thank you. I don't eat cake." The guy looked surprised and glanced at me. I explained, "He has food allergies." The poor guy was so apologetic, and I told him not to worry about it. Well, the food allergy thing is not a lie, and sometimes it is easier just saying that than explaining SPD to someone I'll probably never see again.

Okay, the party was oer, and we came home, got my husband, and went to dinner. Like most parents of young children, when we go eat anywhere, we eat early, usually arriving between 4:30 and 5pm. We also bring Frank's food, and about a thousand small toys for him to occupy himself with. He got an immense goodie bag from the party, so he really played with those items most of dinner. He also, for the first time, ordered his own food from the waiter: "I want chicken fingers and French Fries, and I want ketchup because I need it for the French Fries. Oh, and I want water to drink!" looks at Mommy's face "Please!" Sometimes, he'll eat the chicken fingers in a given extablishment, and sometimes he won't. Tonight, he ate one and one half chicken fingers, as well as about a thousand fries, so he did pretty well with the eating. The last 20 minutes or so, he got very squirmy, and I took him for a short walk, and, when we got the check, I packed him up and took him and the bag out to the car and got him strapped in while Darrel paid for dinner.

When we got home, we changed him and let him watch Dora for a half hour, and he is now in bed and silent. I expect him to sleep very well tonight.

I sometimes get very pessimistic about what's in store for him down the road, especially when it comes to food, but all around, today was a great day. Days like this, I can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, it'll all be okay in the end.

SPD

2010-04-09T22:04:00.000-04:00

I've been thinking a lot about this lately. Number one, I am pissed at my insurance company- I got a letter from them yesterday saying they were denying payment on any more Occupational Therapy (OT) for Frank. I've had to call them and harrass them every three months or so for the past two years to get them to approve twelve more visits for him, but never a denial letter like this before. I called them immediately and asked them what was going on; the guy I spoke with said it was possible the way the provider submitted the claim was written differently- a different diagnostic code, perhaps. I doubt it, but I called the OT place, as the insurance dude suggested, to ask them to call insurance's utilization managment line to get the appeal going on the denial.

The woman at OT who handles all this is on vacation until Monday. *sigh* So I had to cancel Frank's appointment for today. With my husband still being out of work, and my job tenuous, I'm not looking to spend $200 out of pocket and then going through the wringer of trying to get that money back from insurance.

One year from now, he'll be in kindergarten screening. Frank will be five the following September. Everyone around us is advising us to postpone kindergarten for him until the year he turns six. Frank is very bright, and learning a great deal in preschool; I fear that if he had to spend an extra year in pre-K, he'd be bored. Physically, he's tall for his age, and he's pretty good at most physical skills he should be good at. I just worry that the SPD will make kindergarten difficult for him. I spoke with my local Board of Education last summer about getting OT through them, and was told that he'd have to go to their preschool disabled class to be able to get any kind of service. Both my husband and I agreed that would not be the best placement for Frank, unless it was a class full of kids with SPD! He loves his school now, and has been going there since he was five months old. The staff is great, and very understanding and willing to work with his SPD "quirks".

I have to admit, though, one reason I'd like him to start kindergarten the year he turns five is so I can push for him to get OT in school and therefore not have to deal with arguing with insurance about it anymore!

Number two reason this has been on my mind a lot lately is because of Potty Training. It's been a miserable failure. He has all the physical abilities They say he should have to be ready for it, but, because of the SPD, he has an aversion to change, which means he will never be emotionally ready for it unless we tell him it's time, and even then, he's fighting us on it. Last weekend, we had him in underwear (that he helped pick out) most of the weekend, and he sat on the potty pretty well, but five minutes after he got off the potty, he wet himself. (Yes, clearly he actually has control over his bladder!) I feel bad for saying it, and it flies against what so many more experienced parents are telling me, but we are going to force him to potty train. (None of these more experienced parents have kids with SPD!) I expect it to be a painful process, and am not looking forward to it.

Remember me?

2010-04-08T19:39:00.000-04:00

Yeah, I've come out of hibernation. It happens every year- between early January and mid-March, I get depressed and don't do anything and lose all desire to do anything creative. But once there's more light and higher temperatures, my mood generally improves. Yay, spring!

It's been crazy hot here for about a week now. We're talking blazing sun and temperatures in the 80s. It's been great, because my abbreviated spring break was this week, so I got a ton of yardwork done! All the ugly, crappy, large bushes the previous owners of this house had planted are now gone. I also planted some hyacinths, and transplanted tulips and daffodils. Now, we need to bring in a ton of topsoil, to put in the craters that were formerly bushes, and I need to sit back and plot out what pretty things I'll put in this summer. I need to buy a bunch of johnny jump ups:

I have a couple, but I want more more more! They bloom all summer long and come back every year.

Another bright, colorful flower I want is lantana:

I had a bunch of these in the flowerpots at the townhouse, but they've all died off. If you plant them in the ground, they should come back every year.

In other news, Frank is still sleeping on the crib mattress on the floor in his room. And he is still, at three and a half, not potty trained. His OT, daycare teachers, my husband, and I, after much discussion, have decided that he will have to forced- as a child with Sensory processing Disorder, he has an aversion to change- he pretty much would never potty train if he could decide, because it's something different. As bad as I feel about forcing him to do something that will involve wailing and gnashing of teeth, I don't really feel we have any other choice- he will never be one of those kids who randomly one day decides he is ready to do it. It's going to be a battle, and it's going to be ugly. We tried it over last weekend, and he would sit on the toilet for up to a half hour at a time, but he never did anything in the toilet- he'd hold it until he got off the toilet, and wet his underwear five minutes later! Yay, parenthood!

Happy New Year!

2009-12-31T22:26:00.001-05:00

Yep, I'm here, at home. Have I mentioned that we have no life? I wanted to invite some friends over, but never got round to it because I kept forgetting to do it. Oh well. We do have a Super Bowl Party coming in five weeks.

I'm watching my Season five "Lost" DVDs. I'm much farther into them than I had thought I would be by this point- by the time midnight rolls around, I should have only about three episodes left. (I started watching it a few days ago.) I also have gotten quite a lot of Netflix viewing done recently- mostly documentaries- so I feel like I've accomplished something recently.

Darrel and I went to see "Invictus" yesterday afternoon. We sent Frank to daycare in the morning, and I spent the day watching TV, reading, and doing tons of laundry, since I hadn't done any laundry for a good ten or eleven days. I'm not done, either- I'll have one or two loads to do tomorrow morning. Anyway, we both really liked the movie. It's about the South African rugby team, and their path to winning the 1995 Rugby World Cup. Matt Damon plays the captain of the team and Morgan Freeman plays Nelson Mandela. It was interesting, and I've discovered since that it's actually pretty accurate, historically; the movie showed how rugby actually helped to begin to bring togetehr whites and blacks after the end of apartheid and the election of Mandela.

Of course, the thought I had just before we went into the theater was, "Dude, even South Africa, with its history of apartheid, managed to elect a black President way before we did!"

I saw "New Moon" again on Tuesday night, this time with a coworker, P. P, another coworker, W, and I all loved the Twilight books, and have dissected characters and discussed the movie adaptations ad infinitum. Not that Twilight is Great Literature, by any means- I freely admit that. But as escapist fluff, it's awesome. P and I had a wonderful time, and discussed it yet again as we drove home from the movie. P and I get along extremely well- she's old enough to be my mother, but we just click on so many things. I feel bad for her, because she's got a difficult family situation- I don't want to share details on a blog, but it bothers me to see her so hurt, because she doesn't deserve it.

Tuesday this week, I decided to try something new in the Getting Frank to Sleep Outside the Crib. I took his crib mattress out and put it on the floor. I set up everything as it had been in his crib, and explained to Frank that this was where he was going to sleep. He took it better than I thought he would, truthfully. I don't know if it's just his personality, or if all little kids are like this, but he does not adapt to change very well, in anything.

Anyway, that first nap, he had some difficulty getting to sleep, but once he did, he slept well. Same thing happened that night, and naptime and nighttime the next day. He wakes earlier than he did in the crib, but we have a baby gate across the doorway of his room at night, so he can't wander anywhere. He does seem to enjoy the fact that he can get up and wander around his room at naptime- I listened to him on the monitor today. Hopefully tomorrow we'll actually take the crib down.

Just over an hour until the New Year here. I have two resolutions this year: to be more social and to lose thirty pounds. Hopefully I'll accomplish most of the second by my cousin's wedding in May.

Snowmageddon

2009-12-21T22:06:00.000-05:00

The above title is courtesy of Casey Bartholomew, a radio talk-show host on one of my favorite stations, NJ 101.5.

Last week, all the local stations were going on and on about the Huge! Snow! Storm! That! Was! Coming! Predictions changed with each hearing, as well as, as the week went on, commentary about what it was doing south of us, particularly to the DC area. (That part, at least, turned out to be true: my brother's friend from high school, C, teaches in the DC schools, and she has off for this entire week because they can't dig out.)

Saturday, I had stuff to do. Frank had OT, and he needed a haircut, and we needed to go to the library. (Those who know me well understand that last is in fact a need and not a want. And, blessedly, my kid is following in my footsteps in worship of the public library system.) Well. We got one of those things done. Frank has been fighting off a cold for about three months...no, really, it's probably been close to three weeks. He's in daycare and he's three, so, as long as he didn't seem to be in huge distress about it, I'm a big fan of letting him fight it off.

Saturday, Darrel got up and left for the food store at 7:15am. When Frank got up, he was very whiny and very clingy, both behaviors unlike him. I called the doctor while we were on the way to OT, and she said to bring him in at 10:30am. Okay, cool. Now that left me to deal with. My doctor sometimes has Saturday hours, so I called his office a few times- no dice. I even drove past there, just to see if they were going to open and if I could sneak in- nope. Hm.

Frank, in the pediatrician's opinion, got a cold on top of another cold. His ears are clear and the tubes are still solidly in place, and there's no drainage going on, all of which is good. Basically, treat with Tylenol as needed, and if he does not improve in a week, or gets worse, call her back.

So, now, for me. I ended up going to an Urgent Care that doesn't accept insurance (WTF??) so I had to pay out of pocket and get reimbused- what a pain. Anyway, I have a sinus infection. I didn't feel that terrible, but I'm gload I went then and got an antibiotic, because I'm pretty sure if I had held off until today, I'd have felt like crap today and might not have lasted the day.

By the time I got my prescription, it was nearly noon. I was tempted to go to the library, but Frank and I had been out and about since 8am, with neither of us feeling great, and the first flakes of fluffy white death were beginnign to fall, so we headed home.

Darrel's birthday was also Saturday, so when we got home, we gave him his present- I got him a Wii. :) He was totally shocked, amd excited. He and I were supposed to go out for dinner that night- I got a sitter and everything- but we cancelled and I made him dinner instead.

Oh, and the fluffy white doom from the sky? We got about six inches. My brother, in south Jersey, got about 20 inches!! I didn't even get a delayed opening today- as of noon yesterday, the roads were all clear, so I went and bought some cookie-making supplies I'd run out of and went to the library while I was out.

I got my flu shot!

2009-12-10T19:47:00.000-05:00

I finally was able to get my seasonal flu shot today. I stopped at the CVS after school today, to pick up a prescription, and decided on a whim to check their Minute Clinic (again). Huzzah, they had flu shots, so I signed up and got my shot. My arm is a bit sore this evening, more than for the swine flu, oddly enough, but I have my shot, so I feel a little calmer.

Yeah...that's all I got this evening.

Swine flu shots, part II

2009-12-08T19:28:00.000-05:00

I took my son to get his second H1N1 shot today. Our township had a clinic, at a local middle school. (I will take this moment to explain that our town is incredibly spread out, over many miles, even though population-wise I don't think it's much bigger than the town I grew up in. I think there are areas in this town I will never make it to no matter how long I live here!) I'd never been in this area before, and it took me ten minutes of driving around aimlessly and stopping an old woman smoking and walking her dog to find the school. The clinic was scheduled to start at 4:30pm. Frank and I went to the library right after school and then drove to the school- I figured that, even though it was only just before 4pm, we'd sit in the car for a bit and read while we waited.

Yeah, not so much. When I pulled up, there was already a line out in front of the school!! Frank didn't have his boots on, and it had never occured to me that we'd need to be outside longer than a few minutes, so he didn't have mittens or a hat, but we parked, got out, walked over to the line, and ascertained that it was in fact the flu shot line...and waited. In 35 degree weather, with the sun setting. By the time they actually opened up the doors and let us in, it was 4:40pm. I mean, really, there were about 40 people on line ahead of me, and about twice that number behind me- it would have killed them to let us into the building earlier?? I was livid. I am not a fan of the cold weather by any stretch, and there I was trying to entertain a three-year-old with only two stuffed animals and a baggie of cinnamon cubs. Thank God said three-year-old really is a good-natured child, because he only got mildly whiney towards the end. ("Mommy, I don't like standing here." "Me, neither, Frank." "Can we go inside?" "Not yet." *sigh* "Awwight.")

Oh, and I need to mention the moment in the car when I told him what was going to happen, on the way to this place: I told him we were going to get him a shot, and it had special medicine in it that would make sure he doesn't get sick, and he said to me in a small voice:

"Mommy, are we going to do that hurty thing again?"

I swear a piece of me died inside, especially when I told him yes, and he said, "But I won't get sick. I'll make sure I don't get sick."

Ugh.

Anyway, we finally got through the line, got him his shot (cue up another moment of Mommy Feeling Like a Piece of Shit as she holds him down while he gets his shot) and waited for 15 minutes afterwards, to make sure he'd have no reaction. He didn't, and as soon as 15 minutes was up, and I told him it was time to go bye-bye, he all but sprinted for the door!

We peeled out of the parking lot at 5:40pm, and got home around 6pm. He's just goen to bed. They told me there was a chance he'd develop a low-grade fever within the next 24 hours. So help me God, daycare better not call me tomorrow and tell me he needs to be picked up because he's got a fever.

Thanksgiving

2009-12-07T22:04:00.000-05:00

So, we're in the car two days before Thanksgiving, and this is the dialogue between me and the three-year-old boy:

Frank: Mommy, this week is Thanksgiving.
Me: Yes, it is, on Thursday.
Frank: (very matter of fact) I'm not going to eat the turkey.
Me:(slowly) Okay...why not?
Frank: Because I don't want to. I don't like it. I want to eat my food.
Me: Okay, but here's what's going to happen. You will have turkey, and sweet potatoes and mashed potatoes on your plate, because I am making some for you [with fake milk and butter, to accomodate his food allergies]. You will have some of your food, too. You don't have to eat the turkey and mashed potatoes and sweet potatoes, but they do have to stay on your plate.
Frank: (thinks it over) Well...all right.
Me: Oh, and the plate will stay in front of your place. You will not push the plate away from you and cry.
Frank: (silent for a minute) All right, Mommy.

And that's exactly what happened. Last year, when I put regular Thanksgiving food on his plate, he threw a huge hissy fit. This year, calm acceptance. He only ate a few of his chicken nuggets at dinner because he'd been snacking with his cousins all afternoon, but he didn't get upset when a little sweet potato actually got on a nugget- he just discreetly wiped it on a napkin and ate it!

This is a pretty major deal for a kid as orally defensive as my son is. Sensory Processing Disorder becomes a behavioral issue, as well as a physical issue, in many kids. I guess it's because he's so little, and there's so little he can actually control about food, so refusing to eat it is one way to control it? I don't know for sure. At any rate, exposing him to different foods is actually one part of his therapy. I'm not as good with it as I used to be, and don't do it every day, as I should, though.

I keep trying to engage him in dialogue about food. He needs to start eating at least one fruit and one vegetable, neither of which he eats at this point, unless you count my homemade tomato sauce and applesauce (that's not homemade). I keep thinking that if I can get him to be able to explain what exactly about this food or that food is unpleasant to him, maybe we can figure out the "right" foods for him.

I get so frustrated with his food issues sometimes, and I try not to show him how frustrated I am. I mean, I come from a family where, in the words of my brother, "If someone presented us with the ass end of a skunk and told us it was good eating somewhere in the world, you and I would give it a try." Not wanting to eat something just because I've never eaten it before is a foreign concept to me. I lose track, though, of the progress Frank has made since he started occupational therapy at 17 months of age. He actually eats like many toddlers do- not terrific, but at least somewhere within the realm of average, and I tend to lose sight of that.

Mohonk!

2009-12-06T21:52:00.000-05:00

About a month or so before Thanksgiving, my husband told me to keep that Saturday and Sunday free- no interpreting jobs or anything. I asked him why, and he smiled mysteriously and said only, "You'll see."

He'd booked us a room overnight at Mohonk Mountain House. (http://www.mohonk.com/) He'd been there before, a few times, on work retreats, but I had never been, and I'd always wanted to go. He got his mom to babysit for Frank and managed to keep it a secret until Thanksgiving, when my brother-in-law spilled the beans over dinner, prompting Darrel to say to his mother in an exasperated tone, "I can't tell you anything, can I??" (To be fair to my brother-in-law, by the look on his face, I don't think my mother-in-law had mentioned to him that the location was a surprise to me. Oopsie.)

Anyway, the trip was lovely...even though I'd awakened Saturday morning with Frank's cold that eventually became bronchitis and a serious URI that kept me out of work for three days. It took us about two hours to drive up. We checked in at 3:30pm and then wandered the grounds a bit. That was their first day lighting their Christmas tree there, at 5pm, so we went outside for carols and stuff, too. Dinner Saturday night was formal; I even bought a new dress for it!

Sunday we woke up and had the breakfast buffet, and then went for a hike, me hacking and wheezing the whole way up to Skytop. The view in the end was well worth all the wheezing- you could seriously see for MILES in every direction, and it was one of those clear, crisp fall days. (For those who see my Facebook page, my current profile picture is from about halfway up this hike.)

We had lunch buffet, and then checked out at 2pm and came home. We had, of course, forgotten that this is one of the major travel days of the year, and got stuck in some serious traffic coming home, but we arrived home shortly after 5pm.

It's late right now, and the pictures are somewhat screwed up here, but I'll fix it another time.

Oh, one more thing...this was a definite splurg for us. This place is so luxurious, and the staff...well, I felt rich while there! Polite nods, calling us "sir" and "madam"...I kept looking around to see who they were talking to! They really know how to run the place and make you feel like a queen, that's for sure!!

Dentist

2009-11-19T21:34:00.000-05:00

I just realized I never blogged about Frank's first dentist appointment.

We got there at 8:50am and signed in. I'd filled out all the paperwork at home. (I downloaded them from the website. Yay, internet!) It's a nice office- it's done in an aquarium theme, with a HUGE fish tank right in the middle, which Frank loved- he'd asked me on the way in if this doctor would have fish!

We got called back and went in, and Frank became Mr Clingy. He refused to let go of me- I had to carry him in. The hygenist had me sit in the chair and put Frank on my lap, and she reclined the chair with us that way.

Frank never stopped crying and screaming the entire time she was checking and cleaning his teeth. I felt bad for her, and for the dentist, both having to sit there and listen to that the entire time, but they both laughed it off. "it doesn't matter to us," the dentist, a very nice woman, said. "If he's crying, his mouth is open, which means we can do what we need to do!" I had to laugh, because I hadn't thought about it that way!!

"Besides," the hygenist added. "He was a vcery good patient. He didn't try to kick me, bite me, or push my hand out of his mouth. He just laid there and cried."

I stared at her. "Um...do those things happen often?"

"Oh, yeah, occupational hazard. You should have seen the black eye I got last month when a kid kicked me!"

Day-um! I'll have to remember that next time I think my job is hard!

Anyway, Frank's teeth looked great; in their words, we are doing a very good job brushing his teeth, and need to keep up the good work, as well as start flossing. We haven't gotten on that yet. I'm pretty sure that'll be super fun.

Don't piss off the parents.

2009-11-18T11:51:00.001-05:00

It seems that the entire afternoon staff in Frank's classroom has been changed. This happened the week after Darrel had a discussion with the director about the diaper-changing issue. It wasn't just us complaining, either- I found out from another mother that she had complained about the very same thing! Darrel had the discussion with the director, rather than me, because the day after I had decided that a "come to Jesus" meeting needed to be had, he happened to be the one to drop Frank off in the morning, and he ran into the director.

Personally, I think he arranged things so he could be the one to have the discussion because he knew how much of a rage I was in the one afternoon when I got home and opened Frank's diaper- it was clear, by the condition of the contents, that he hadn't been changed in a long time.

But, really, I had spoken to the head teacher not once, but twice, about this, and there's a big note for the afternoon staff saying which kids need changing. I don't like getting people in trouble, but my kid should not have to fear getting his diaper changed because of how much it will hurt, nor should he have to walk funny because of the size of the load in his pants.

Anyway, it's been much better the last couple of weeks, all around. He's wearing pull-ups during the day, and regular diapers at night. He hasn't asked for big boy underwear in several days, but there's been a lot going on, so I guess it hasn't occured to him. Also, I found out why he chose that particular day to ask me for them- one of his bestest friends, K, came to school that very day wearing big-girl underwear for the first time. ;)

Party!

2009-11-15T14:56:00.001-05:00

Frank's "Friend Birthday party" was yesterday. Yeah, it's only two months after his birthday. Anyway, we held it here, and invited the kids whose names he mentions most often. Seven of them came, as did the two kids of friends of ours from college; the daughter is a few months older than Frank, and the son is five.

We set up the folding table adjacent to our kitchen table.

Judging by the fact that the kids were very reluctant to leave (two of them had to be carried out by their parents), I'd say it was a success! I had some games planned, but when the kids arrived, they all swarmed over Frank's toys, and they all were playing so nciely, I decided to bag the games. They arrived at 10:30am, and played for about a half hour. I then had chicken nuggets ready to be served, so we called them to the table. While they were waiting their turns to be served, they had pictures of fire trucks (the theme) to color. (I white paper on a roll I laid out beforehand and taped to the tables, just in case an enthusiastic colorer strayed off the paper.) They ate their chicken, chips and pretzels, and then ran back to play. We cleaned up lunch stuff, and got things ready for the cake. at 11:40am, we called them back to the table and sang Happy Birthday.

This plate is the set we had, with matching cups (which we didn't use- we used juice boxes) and napkins.

The cake was done by a bakery just down the road from us called Baker's Perfection. They also did our wedding cake, and they are fabulous! Seriously, if you ever find yourself in Morris County and need a cake for an occasion, go to them. They actually took a napkin I gave them and replicated the design for the cake! The cake itself was actually one of those pull-apart cupcake things, with buttercream icing- man was it good! And, as perusual, I ordered way too much, so we have a lot leftover. I'd figured the parents would eat some too, but only one or two did.

I handed out goodie bags, and the last child left at 12:30pm. Normally, this would have been when we put Frank in for a nap, but nope, not yesterday- it was then Niece #2's birthday party, 45 minutes away! Frank slept 20 minutes in the car on the way down, and not at all on the way home. We got him to bed at about 8:45pm last night, and he was quiet a good 12 hours! Darrel said he woke around 4am from a nightmare, and he stayed up with him a bit, but then he didn't call for us again until about 8:40am. I, of course, was wide awake at 7am, but that was okay, because I'd slept well and had gone to bed around 9:30pm.

Niece #2's party was fine, a normal family party. I showed Niece #1, age six, how to use my digital camera, and she went around and took some pictures. She seemed very interested in it. She's quite painfully shy, and doesn't say much, but if you ask her questions she'll nod or shake her head. I feel bad for her, and I worry about her.

Potty training

2009-11-12T20:26:00.001-05:00

Or, excuse me, toilet learning, as the books insist on calling it now. "It's a child, nto a dog," the books all say. WhatEVER.

My son just turned three in September. He's in a class with 22 other kids at daycare, and he is only one of four who are still in diapers. It's been a problem for a few reasons, msotly because I'm not entirely certain they remember to change him in a timely manner. Frank tends towards diaper rashes. He always has a low-grade kind of rash, but it's been really bad off and on since the school year began, and he tranferred into the next older class. I find it telling that the rash gets worse as the week goes on, and gets better over the weekend.

He balks at using the potty, and has never shown any interest in it, so we decided, after realizing that peer pressure was not going to get him interested in it, that we were simply going to make him sit on the potty at various intervals throughout the day. They do it for us at school, too. He sits, and cries each time we make him sit, and so far, he has done nothing in the toilet.

Now, this week...Tuesday when he and I got home from school, and I changed his diaper, he randomly asked if he could wear his big-boy underwear. (I had bought about eighteen pairs at various times recently, of different characters, to try and get him interested in them.) I agreed- He put the underwear on (Mickey Mouse Clubhouse), and a pair of sweatpants, and we went downstairs, along with a towel to spread on the couch where he likes to sit.

Twenty minutes later, he stood up. "Mommy, I'm wet." Okay, upstairs we went, with me praising him for telling me right away. (He'll let a load of pee or poop sit in there for hours if we let him. He never tells us. I gave him a sticker for telling me right away.) We changed his underwear (Cars this time) and his sweatpants and went back downstairs. Twenty minutes later, lather, rinse, repeat.

Yesterday, same deal, except with the second pair of underwear, he pooped instead of peed. I will only say that cleaning that pair of underwear was not the most fun I have ever had.

Today, again. The second pair he again soiled, but this poop was...less solid than yesterday.

I threw the pair of underwear out. Yes, I do realize underwear cost more than diapers, but I simply could not bring myself to try and clean this pair. It wa shard enough to get them off him without retching.

I'm not sure if letting him wear big boy underwear with him not really doing anything in the potty is accomplishing anything, but he does get a thrill when I tell my husband each evening about it anhd his teachers in the morning about it, so I guess I'll let him wear them as often as he asks for them.

Teachers' Convention

2009-11-05T10:18:00.000-05:00

I have today and tomorrow off for Convention. I'm not going, but I do have things I need to get done around here, so it's nice to have a couple of days. Frank is going to the dentist for the first time tomorrow morning, at 9am. Yeah, so not looking forward to that. Too bad I had that appointment scheduled, though- I could have gone into the city to see the Yankees' ticker-tape parade tomorrow! Oh, well, I'll probably have a better seat in my living room, anyway. One day, though, I want to go see a real ticker-tape parade in NYC.

Yes, the Yankees won their 27th World Series title last night, amidst, of course, lots of people grumbling about how they "bought" this title, because they have more money than all the other teams. Whatever. If money was the key to it, why don't the Yankees win every single year? Anyway, I fell asleep for the seventh and eighth innings, but woke for the last out in the ninth. Darrel stayed awake for the whole thing, and then some- he ended up sleeping in his recliner, and was awake again and watching highlights when I went downstairs at 6:30am today. I'm just SO glad I don't have school today, so I don't have to go through the day feeling like I've been hit by a Mack truck!

I have to finish my Christmas shopping this weekend, too. I am way behind where I usually am at this point in the year, and have to step it up if I'm going to finish everything by Thanksgiving!!

October is really over??

2009-11-01T13:08:00.000-05:00

Wow. Huh. Well, there wasn't much going on for me to blog about, I guess. I managed to make it through an entire month without calling in sick. That's something of an accomplishment.

Haloween here was warm, but rainy. Yeah, way to go, weather guys- no rain for trick or treating, my ass! We bought about a thousand pounds of candy to hand out, based on last year's trick or treat numbers, and got maybe 30% of the numbers we had last year. I let the kids grab handfuls of whatever they wanted- we hand two bowls, and towards the end, I let them grab a handful from each bowl. Yes, I was in fact That Lady Who Gives Out Tons of Candy. :D

Frank dressed up as Thomas the Tank Engine, and. despite the rain, he enjoyed trick or treating. We went to eight houses before I decided it was time to head back home. Not that he actually will eat any of his haul, except for the green lollipop he already started sucking on last night; however, he does enjoy showing off what he got and counting and sorting it all: "Look, Mommy! I got two of dat and tree of dat!"

This Thursday and Friday is Teachers' Convention. Friday morning, Frank has his very first dentist appointment. I think I may need a Valium for this one. I told them he has Sensory Processing Disorder, so we'll see how it goes!!

We are having the birthday party for Frank's friends from daycare here at our house in two weeks. We've only invited seven kids, but, *whimpers* help me. It's only an hour and a half, but I hope having a whole bunch of preschoolers running around my house doesn't drive me off the deep end! It seems like the trend, for the most part, is for the kids to have their parties at these big-box gym type places and invite the whole class. Frank doesn't really like those places much- they're usually too loud, for starters. So we figured invite the kids whose names Frank mentions most often and have it here. Some free play, a couple of goofy games, snacks and cake, and they all go home. At least, I hope that eats up one and a half hours!

Niece number three's party is that afternoon, too, so after his party, Frank goes in for a short nap, and then we go to that party! Oh well, at least he should sleep well that night.

I have about half of my Christmas shopping done. I am hoping to spend Thursday getting the other half done.

Back in school

2009-09-24T21:31:00.000-04:00

Good thing I went back today- one of the other interpreters, P, was absent. She virtually never calls in sick, so she must really be sick. I feel bad for going in Monday and Tuesday now, because it was probably me that got her sick.

Or it could have been one of the kids- I never heard so much coughing and sniffling in September in my entire educational career! It's bizarre- my first period class had a test today, so it was really quiet, and all I heard was that gross sound of snuffling up snot because they didn't want to get up and get a tissue. Yech.

I feel SO much better than I did two days ago. Everyone around me is taking a long time to get over this thing. Based on the sound of most of their coughing, I bet they all have freaking bronchitis. Virtually none of them, student or staff, has gone to a doctor, too. "It's just a cold. I'd feel pretty stupid going to the doctor for just a cold." Whatever. Don't whine to me that you've been sick for two weeks and can't seem to shake this thing, then.

For once, having an immune deficiency is working in my favor- I went to a doctor a lot sooner than normal people seem inclined to do, and am much better much faster than they are!

Good news, though:

2009-09-22T19:16:00.000-04:00

Frank at least tasted his cupcake at daycare yesterday! We brought in cupcakes to celebrate his birthday, and he picked one with chocolate icing. According to the teacher, he had icing on his face and the cupcake was thoroughly mangled. I am well pleased, even if he just licked it once and played with the rest of it, because he's never actually been interested in eating anything cake-like before.

I do NOT have swine flu.

2009-09-22T19:11:00.000-04:00

However, I do have an upper respiratory infection and bronchitis.

I went to school today and did the assembly. I felt crummy when I woke up, but there have been times that's happened and I pushed myself and it went okay. Today, not so much. I left at 11:50am.

I took my first dose of the antibiotic at 3pm. I'm not really optimistic about having a good night tonight, which means I'll very likely be calling in sick tomorrow. DAMN, I HATE using sick days this early in the school year!!

At least it's not just me, though. Two of the math teachers and I were in the ladies' room at the same time this morning, and one, who's been teaching for many years, told me she's never seen so many staff go down for the count this early in the school year as she's seen this year. I mentioned this to my doctor, who replied, rather ominously, "Yeah, I'm noticing that, too. It's rather concerning."

Yeah, that's just what me and my weak immune system needed to hear.

I'm sick.

2009-09-21T19:29:00.000-04:00

I have a cold. And I am scheduled to interpret an assembly tomorrow, a good one, one I actually like to interpret each year. *sigh* Think I can shake this in the next 12 hours? No? Yeah, me neither.

Good day

2009-09-17T21:50:00.000-04:00

1. Frank did not cry when I left him this morning, for the first time since he started preschool. Yay! He did give me the boo-boo lip, but at the same time he was doing that, he was holding a book up to a teacher and asking her to read it to him. (Hooray for multitasking?)

2. He played with Play-doh today! He didn't just play with it- he really got into it, apparently. The teacher was so excited she came running up to me as soon as I walked in to pick him up today. She even took a piucture to show me- and he was smiling in the picture! This is news because, traditionally, Mr Sensory Processing will sort of touch the Play-doh, but he doesn't play with it, or knead it, or anything much. I can't wait to tell his OT tomorrow.

Friday night

2009-09-13T12:56:00.000-04:00

Friday night I drove into NYC to go to a happy birthday get together at a pub for one of my oldest friends. One of the highlights of this for me was to finally meet her other half. They've been together for several months, but I am lame and don't really go out much, so the fact that I hadn't met him before is really my fault.

I am happy to report that I approve. ;) When I left, I told her so with the first words that popped into my head to describe what I felt when I saw them together: "You fit together like two puzzle pieces." He's a very nice guy and he makes my friend happy, and that makes me happy.

He could have better taste in baseball teams, though. ;)

In other news, Derek Jeter beat Lou Gehrig's record for most hits as a Yankee Friday night. I left the pub, which had the game on, ten minutes before it happened. My timing was, as always, impeccable. However, I heard it on the radio- I was out on the West Side Highway at that moment- and I had the foresight to tape the game, so Darrel and I could watch it together.

My boo-boo is somewhat better. It's less red, all around, less painful, and part of it, er, began draining in the shower today. *makes retching face*

This afternoon, I am going to an Irish festival in Sussex County. My mother in law will be coming to babysit Frank so I don't have to bring him. I really don't want to bring him because I've never been to this festival before, and I've no idea how loud it will be. I'm looking forward to it.

I have a boo-boo.

2009-09-10T19:33:00.000-04:00

This is how I explain it to my son. In reality, it's a huge, disgusting, red, painful, infected bug bite. It started Monday, with a little redness. Now, I get about a thousand bug bites every summer, and several of them usually do get infected, so at first I didn't think too much about it. Tuesday it was somewhat swollen, and tender to the touch. I took note of this, and resolved to keep an eye on it. Wednesday, it was downright painful, and because it's basically right on my knee, my knee hurts, too! So, I thought okay, if it still hurts tomorrow, I'll call the doctor.

The pain woke me in the middle of the night last night. When I got up this morning, it was even bigger, and hard! Ouch. Needless to say, I called my doctor during my first free period today, and got an appointment after school. He took one look at it, probed it, and asked me if I'd been bitten recently. Now, as I said, I get bitten a lot during the summer, but I can't recall anything in particular there, and I told him so. Still, though, he thinks it's a bug bite, and put me on an antibiotic, which I picked up as soon as I'd picked up my son, and I took the first dose of as soon as I got home. He also told me to use warm compresses on it, two or three times a day.

The doctor also drew a line in pen around the outer areas of redness, and told me that if the redness extends much beyond that line, even after I'm on the antibiotic, to call him immediately.

I really hope it clears up quickly. Aside from being painful, I'm now, after his ominous warning, picturing this causing me to have to get my leg amputated!! Only me, right? Only me...

In better news, Derek Jeter is tied with Lou Gehrig for most hits as a Yankee. If the game tomorrow night goes as scheduled(it's supposed to rain in NYC a LOT tomorrow, into the evening), he should break the record tomorrow night. I'm going to record the game because I'm going to be in Manhattan tomorrow night, celebrating a birthday. :)

Party!

2009-09-07T15:43:00.000-04:00

We held Frank's Family Birthday Party here Saturday. Overall, the day went pretty well- Frank napped well, and got up just when a lot of guests were supposed to arrive. He ran around playing with his cousins, everyone ate well, and was having fun. He didn't want to blow out the candle on his cake; when I asked him later he said the sining was too loud...which explained why he buried his face into my shoulder while it was going on. He had fun opening his presents, and got a lot of nice stuff.

However. Darrel has a friend from high school whom we invited, along with his wife and almost two-year-old daughter. The daughter was wandering around, with the wife fairly close behind her, and she wandered by the swinset, where my niece, who was on the swing, accidentally hit her and she fell down. Niece was barely swinging at that point, and didn't hit the girl very hard, and in my opinion, the girl, who hadn't napped that day, was more shocked/scared than hurt. Friend flipped out at his wife. I won't post specifics, but it was downright abusive. Wife's lack of shock makes me believe firmly that this was not the first time this has happened.

What was most shocking to me was who this was- this is a guy whom Darrel has known for twenty plus years, and I've known him somewhat for svereal years myself, and neighter one of us ever remotely thought he'd be like this. (Darrel missed the whole thing, and I think he thinks I might be blowing it a tad out of proportion.)

I am so upset about it, two days later, that I don't even want to go to the class reunion we are scheduled to go to with them next month, because I don't want to see this guy. And there's nothing I can do to help the situation, nothing at all.

School

2009-09-01T20:53:00.000-04:00

I went back to work on Monday, for two days of orientation and workshops. The kids, thankfully, are coming in tomorrow for their first day. I'd rather have the kids there- I just do not have what it takes to be able to sit still and listen to other people talk all day!!

I got my schedule for this year, too. It looks pretty busy, which is good, and I have mostly pretty good classes for me...except for AP Chemistry! Anyone able to tutor me all year so I can sign somewhat coherently??

Frank cried when I left him yesterday, but did fine today. I think the cold he got over the weekend was really bothering him yesterday morning. He's been transitioning into the Preschool class, and he doesn't like it. They tell me he cries each day when he goes in there for a couple of hours. Once they can distract him with something, he's fine, but if he has any down time, he cries again. :( I'm pretty sure I'm going to be dropping off a sobbing child next Wednesday, his first full day in Preschool. I've been in the room, and introduced myself to the teachers, and explained his food issues. They seem pretty nice to me. It's a much bigger class than he's used to- his current Toddler class is 14 kids, and the Preschool class is, I think, 21 kids. I keep pointing out all the new toys he can play with in there, and look, they have real computers in there! They have a kitchen set he can play with!

It's times like this that I feel guilty, not because I work, but because I prefer to work instead of staying home all the time with my son. I mean, practically every mother I know is reluctant to come back to work, they loooooove staying home with their kids, etc. I liked being home with him this summer, more than before- he's older and mroe interactive, and we actually went out and did stuff this summer; all that will be even easier next summer, once he's not napping anymore. But I'm ready to go back to school. I like having the routine. I love what I do. Why do I love that more than being home with my kid all the time? I have no idea.

Tomatoes

2009-08-28T18:30:00.000-04:00

They finally started turning red this week! Yay!!

I noticed Wednesday, but was in denial, that the plants are not looking really healthy. I am now 99% sure as to why.

My tomatoes have blight. Yes, blight, as in Irish Potato Famine blight. Who knew it attacked tomatoes, too? I read in the local paper that it was just down the road (literally- they interviewed a gardener who lives in a section of town approximately a mile from my house as the crow flies) about three weeks ago, and prayed it wouldn't find its way here. But it has.

I yanked out the worst hit plants and threw them in the trash, as well as all of my cucmbers, which never really took off this year. I made sure I picked up every spare leaf and everything, too. The reason I did not yank out all the plants is because there are still a few decent-looking tomatoes on some plants left, so I was thinking of leaving them for another couple of days, in hopes they'd turn red. Now that I've been reading tons of stuff online about blight, though, I think I'm going back outside in the rain tonight, detach those green tomatoes, and trash the rest of the plants. Hopefully Sunday will be somewhat decent (screw you, hurricane Danny!) so I can get out there and give the garden a good lookover, to make sure there is no trace of tomato anything left out there.

The plants have to go out with the trash, and not in the compost, because blight is a fungus. You do not even want it on your property, much less in your compost that will eventually be sprinkled all over new plants, because you've just screwed yourself and any future plants. This year, bascially, has been a perfect storm for blight growth here in NJ- the fungus normally hits a couple of places, but between the fungus itself travelling, according to one site, up to 40 miles, and the enormous, Biblical amounts of rain we've had this summer, it's been prime season for growing any kind of fungus.

Well, at least I'm not alone- I heard a while ago Michelle Obama had tomato blight in her White House garden, too! Apparently it's far more common in organic gardens than in those that use various chemicals. Geez, you try and do something right...

Wednesday

2009-08-26T16:52:00.000-04:00

Frank went to daycare this morning. For me, the day has been an exercise in frustration.

I spent the morning off and on (I had to come in once in a while to cool off and get water) trying to dig out a few bushes in my front flower beds. Three of the four I wanted to dig out are in the bed I want to clear out and designate as my rose garden. The other bush is in a different bed. (There are three more bushes in addition that are in a different bed, too.)

I got two dug out. Two. I am so pathetic. I did also manage to clear out what was left of some scraggly ground cover in the rose garden, but two bushes? Also, the soil here...it's so incredibly rocky; I've never seen anything like it! I had a few boulders I had to clean out today, one of which weighed more than my son! Part of the reason it took me so long was because I kept stopping to toss rocks out. My rock pile is going to be ten feet tall by the time I get done with this crap.

I have to get some serious dental work done. I went to the dentist Monday, and it turns out I have four cavities. Two of them are easy, and I am getting them filled tomorrow. But the other two are on teeth on either side of the bridge I have. Basically, this means I'd have to get the brdige removed, get the cavities filled, and get the bridge back on...OR get a dental implant. This would mean I'd get the bridge out, and go to an oral surgeon to have an implant drilled into the bone in my jaw. :o Six months after that (have to allow it to heal, I guess), I'd go to my dentist, and he'd basically just screw in a new tooth, and that would be fine for life. The teeth anchored to the bridge now will basically just keep degrading, which my dentist who put the bridge in ten years ago had told me probably would eventually happen, so I can't say I wasn't warned. So, all around, while the getting of it sucks, eventually, it sounds to me like the implant would eb the right answer.

My insurance, it seems, does not cover implants at all. When I asked why, the rep whom I spoke with simply said, "That's what your group decided on." WTF??? As my husband said when I told him, "And people say we don't need health care reform."

So, now, I don't know what to do. I have an appointment for a consultation with an oral surgeon next week, and, as I've said, I see my dentist tomorrow. I plan on asking exactly how much this whole thing is when I do go, and I will be telling him point blank that my insurance does not cover it. Darrel said he'd check if he could get me on his insurance, if his covers implants, but his open enrollment isn't until December, and from what my dentist said, I don't think I can wait that long to have all this done, because the teeth on either side of the bridge will probably rot out by then!

A day in the life of a toddler with Sensory Processing Disorder

2009-08-24T14:15:00.000-04:00

8am- I wake up. I need my diaper changed immediately if not sooner because "my butt hurts!" Even though there is no visual evidence of a diaper rash.

8:05am- I get dressed. First, though, Mommy must rub Aveeno cream on my back because "My mosquito bites hurt and itch." Even though all visual evidence of them has disappeared two weeks ago.

8:15am- I ask Mommy to please take the tags out of the t-shirt I've been wearing at least once a week for the past six months because, "the tags hurt". Mommy carefully cuts the tags out and waits for me to start whining because the ragged edge hurts. Miraculously, it does not.

8:16am- I eat my breakfast- a Lender's bagel in the microwave on high for 20 seconds. No, not toasted- bagels are not toast! Bagels must be soft and chewy and warm, not rough like toast!

8:55am- Mommy and I arrive at the dentist. Mommy gets a cleaning. I freak because of all the noise- the thing that sucks saliva out of Mommy's mouth is too high-pitched, as is the thing that actually cleans her teeth. Oh, and the thing that dries out the inside of Mommy's mouth? That's pretty darn terrifying, too- it just sounds scary, and I have no idea why. Mommy seems pretty relaxed, but I don't know why. Wait, Mommy did tell me this, but if she thinks I am letting that dentist guy put his hands IN MY MOUTH and count my teeth, she's got another thing coming. Oh, good, the dentist is a smart man- he decided not to try it, and gave Mommy the name of a dentist who specializes in kids. I don't know why he bothered- I am not letting any strange person do the stuff in my mouth that that guy did in Mommy's mouth today!!

10:30am- Shopping, whee!!! Mommy lets me help her push the cart. We buy all kinds of fireman stuff for my birthday party with my friends! Mommy bought special hats that look like cones. She stands looking at them for a long time before putting them in the cart. I see a cool red plastic fireman hat and ask hopefully if I could have it. Mommy beams at me like that was a wonderful idea and says yes. I wear it around the rest of the store and in the car on the way home. She says we have to be careful with it because I will wear it at my birthday party! I don't care- I like it now! Mommy mutters under her breath something that sounds like, "At least there's one hat you'll wear without screaming."

11:10am- We arrive at the haircut place. Oh, crap. I knew this was coming- Mommy started talking about it over the weekend- but I really hoped she'd forget. I hate haircuts- the place is so loud, especially when the haircut lady uses those loud things near my ears to cut little tiny hairs. The comb feels scratchy on my scalp, and the water bottle she sprays my hair with ("That makes your hair easier to cut," Mommy says.) is just COLD and feels like needles! The place is kind of fun to wander around before the haircut- they have video screens and stuff to play with- but the minute the lady comes to get us, I start crying. I can't help it. I wish I never needed another haircut. I cry through most of the haircut, but about 3/4 of the way through, I notice that the video on the screen in front of my chair (It's so high up!! What if I FALL??) is interesting, so I stop crying so I can hear the video. When the haircut is all done, the lady brushes powder all over me, yuck!! It stinks and it makes me sneeze! Mommy says it helps get the hair off me so it doesn't itch me all day long. Can't they get it off me a different way? Once that's done, though, Mommy picks me up, sits down, and hugs and squeezes me tight, and rubs my scalp for me. Aahhhh...that's so much better. Then we go and get a toy from the machine, pay for the haircut, and come home.

12:30pm- We're home. I sigh and sit down on my nice couch and take my shoes and socks off because my feet are hot, and watch Dora and Diego. Once they're done, and I eat some applesauce for lunch, Mommy brings me upstairs, changes my diaper, reads me a story, and puts me in my crib. She has a good memory- she even remembered I need my socks back on to sleep- they're already in the crib, waiting for me. I can't sleep without them, no matter how hot it is- my feet feel too open without the socks holding them in!

****************

Yeah...it's now 2:30pm, and he's been in for a nap for about a half hour. This afternoon, we're going to the library, which he likes.

Cranky

2009-08-22T15:16:00.000-04:00

It's not just for toddlers anymore! Although they certainly fuel the cranky, if my toddler is any example. And my toddler is generally possessed with a more sunny disposition than the average toddler. (I'm not making that part up, either- his daycare providers, who have a lot more experience with toddlers than I have, tell me this all the time! *proud Mommy moment*)

I have a headache. I forget if I mentioned it yesterday, but Tylenol, etc., has only put a dent in it. I am thinking of looking around to see if I have any more of the Great Drugs I got sent home from the hospital with two and a half years ago. (I barely took any of them for the pain issues I had then, and have rationed them out since then for serious pain things, mostly headaches because I am an absolute baby when it comes to headaches.) The problem is, they take the pain away, but they also zone me out, so I have to be careful when I take them. Two and a half years...no one could say I am an addict if one prescription has lasted over two years!

It's been raining again, which furthers the cranky right now. It's rained so much this year, things are damp and moldy that never were before. Also, I think I am one of those people who gets down when there's not enough sunlight, because I do notice a trend with that- I have more problems sleeping in the winter, and more difficulty waking up in winter, for example. During summer I am pretty consistently sleeping seven to eight hours a night, which is really quite good for me, and have generally awakened by about 6:30am, mostly without an alarm.

Frank, I think, is on the way to outgrowing his nap. On the one hand, this will make scheduling activities easier, because we won't have to plan around that. On the other hand, I do enjoy having that two or so hours of quiet time in the middle of the day!! He's pretty consistently napped only for about an hour and a half per day over the last week or so, and awakened earlier in the morning than he did at the beginning of the summer. Based on what the daycare people tell me, this is about average- in the class he is moving up to in September, according to the teachers there, about half the kids nap and half don't. He starts transitioning to that class next week, so tune in late next week for that drama. (Actual quote from him on the subject Thursday: "I don't want to go to preschool. I want to stay in Miss K's class.")

Now that my husband is home, I think I am going to look for those Good Drugs. (I don't like taking them when I am the only responsible adult in the house.)

Field trip!

2009-08-21T16:44:00.001-04:00

Frank's daycare had a field trip scheduled for the Turtleback Zoo in West Orange, NJ this morning. I hadn't been there in probably 25 years; truthfully, last time I was there, it was pretty sad and dumpy, so I never bothered trying to go back.

I woke up to cloudy and overcast weather, so I called the daycare- yep, the trip is still on. Awesome. I wouldn't have wanted the task of trying to explain to Frank why we weren't going somewhere he's been excited about for three days.

It was SO HOT!!!!! I think the temperature was in the low ninties by the time we left the zoo at noon (on the non-airconditioned bus), and it was incredibly humid. The bees were terrible, too. It was a helluva way to find out Frank's diaper bag had a spill inside it...probably of "Grover juice". Frank and his little friends all had a good time, though, which was the important part. We've been home for four hours now, and had planned on going to the library when he woke up from his nap this afternoon, but neither of us is feeling terribly ambitious right now. Nor are we at all curious to see if the thunderstorm that blew through here a while ago has broken the heat at all.

On another note, I have red tomatoes, at long last! I'm going to eat my first one shortly. :) The one cucumber and the several green beans I've eaten out of the garden this year have been tasty, so I'm looking forward to the tomato.

Funny child moment

2009-08-20T20:31:00.000-04:00

Proof that my son is truly mine (and my husband's): He has this little laptop computer like thingy from Little Einsteins. He was sitting on the couch with it this evening while I was making dinner, and trying to figure out something on it. He began to talk to it!

"No...I want 'O'!...Dat's not 'O', dis is 'O'! What do you mean? No, I don't want dat, I want dis!"

It was pretty darn hard for me to keep from giggling at this. I can just picture him in a few years yelling at the TV with us while watching a sporting event!

My sister

2009-08-16T21:21:00.000-04:00

My little sister is 30, which is seven years younger than I am. We've never been what you'd call close, not only because of the age difference, but because we're pretty different personalities. I've always been overly responsible- as the oldest child, especially after my parents divorced when I was 12, it was my job to pick C up from daycare after school and bring her home. My brother, B, who is three years younger than I am and had a tendency to be a bit flaky, would make his way home, usually with a friend or two in tow. Once we were all home, I had to call Mom at work to notifiy her we were all home, then get the two of them a snack and oversee them while they played. (B, again, usually had at least one friend with him. His friends seemed to feel that our house was The Hangout. One of the most common visitors was best man in his wedding two years ago and sold me a car last year!) I sometimes also had to start dinner.

When C was 12, I really have no idea what she did- I only know what she didn't do, because Mom would call me at college and complain to me about it. "She doesn't clean her room, she doesn't do this, she doesn't do that..." Um, yeah, she's not my kid, don't complain to me, I always wanted to say. But I am and always have been A Good Girl, so I always listened and commiserated.

The closest I ever came to rebellion was my freshman year of college, first semester- I basically didn't study much at all. I was free to do whatever I wanted, without my mother being all over me, so I went out for pizza and bowling and hung out chatting with friends through all hours. (I was never a drinker, though- growing up with an alcoholic father cured me of that urge rather young.) Yeah, that was great, until I got my report card for that semester, and the hell that was my life at that point cured me of that- I did well for the rest of college. Not great, but well.

My sister rebelled, oh how she rebelled. She drank, smoked, and snuck out of houses at sleepovers with friends to take the bus into NYC. And she got away with it all, even when people found out about it. People made excuses for her, too!

My sister graduated college, to hear Mom tell it, by the skin of her teeth. My mother said they "let C out of school". Whatever. Three months after graduation, she had a decent job with benefits. (It took me, being all responsible and stuff, nearly a year to land a job with benefits. Yeah, me, with my medical history, lived without health insurance for nearly a year. That's a rant for another day, though...)

C quit that job six months later, without another one lined up, because it "sucked". (Yeah, try working an assembly line in a perfume factory, like I did summers while I was in college!! Or two jobs at once, like I did most of that time as well. It could not possibly have sucked more than that.) My father called me and told me to call my sister and "talk some sense into her". I started laughing. "Dad, number one, the deed is done. Number two, she's never listened to me in her entire life- what on earth makes you think she's going to start now???" C worked as a waitress for the next year or so and quit when she had a nervous breakdown. (Side note: just once in my life, I would like to feel like things would be taken care of if I had a nervous breakdown.) She worked another couple of jobs, including one somewhat related to her major at Big Time Clothing Company in NYC, on Fifth Avenue, no less.

She quit that one two years ago and went to grad school, in art therapy. I snorted when I found out. She's started and quit so many things in her life, my first thought was, "She's never going to finish. It'll be too much work for her."

She finished, graduating this past May. I don't know what she's been doing with her summer, but she leaves in nine days to go to Namibia, to do art therapy on a volunteer basis with kids there. (I hope she brings a vat of sunscreen- she's fairer than I am!)

Maybe, at age 30, she is finally growing up? I hope so. All I know is her entire life, she's gotten away with behaviors that would have gotten me reamed out at half the age she was, and people have always made excuses for her. Hell, people still make excuses for her.

And me? I've always done my best to do The Right Thing, and have always been overlooked as a result.

New baby!

2009-08-11T13:29:00.000-04:00

One of my friends had her baby on July 29th! She just sent out the birth announcement email today. He was six pounds and some ounces, so, even though he wasn't due until, if I recall correctly, mid-August, he seems to be fine.

Hm, I never heard about a baby shower, now that I think about it...maybe she didn't have one?

Either that or we're not as good friends as I thought we were, because I wasn't invited.

RID Convention

2009-08-10T14:19:00.000-04:00

I had a great time! One of my co-workers picked me up at my house Saturday morning and we met the other two co-workers at another house. We left there at about 10:30am, and pulled up in front of our hotel in Philadelphia at about 12:30pm. We were able to check in, even though check-in time is posted as 3pm. (This is my experience with conventions: hotels know when they are hosting one, so they generally try to have everything ready in time for conventioneers who show up early.) It took us a fair bit of doing to get up to our room- the elevators only worked if you inserted your card key into a slot in the elevator, and two of our keys didn't work! We went up, we went down, but we never hit our floor, fifteen. It was very frustrating. Of course, it took us that long for it to dawn on us that, hey, maybe the keys weren't actually working. Once we figured that out, and got new keys, we were able to find our room and get in just fine.

I had every intention of going to a workshop that afternoon, I really did. But my three coworkers were talking about going sightseeing, and, even though I've been to Philly several times before (it isn't that far from north Jersey), I blew off the workshop and went sightseeing! We went to the Art Museum, but didn't go in. The museum is famous for its front steps- Rocky Balboa ran up them during a sequence in Rocky. There's even a bronze statue of Rocky waving his hands in the air at the base of the steps. People line up to get their pictures taken with Rocky. (I did not stand in line; I just took a picture with two random dudes in it.) We also saw a wedding party getting their pictures taken in front of the museum. It's really quite pretty, and I could see why they'd choose that. (Heck, when Darrel and I went to London, we saw a wedding party getting pictures taken at the Tower of London! Yeah, nothing like starting out your married life at a place notorious for its executions.)

We also went and wandered around a bit near Independence Hall, and we went inside the new structure and saw the Liberty Bell. Two of my coworkers had never seen it before.

We ate most meals while in Philly at Reading Terminal Market, an indoor marketplace with all kinds of eateries. They were pretty cheap, too!

Weird thing that happened Saturday night: at 1:41am (yes, I blearily looked at the clock), someone knocked on the door. W got up and went to the door and looked through the peephole. "Who is it?" she snapped.

"Room service," came the reply.

"We didn't order room service. Go away!" W snapped. The thought blearily crossed my mind that maybe we should call the front desk and tell them, but we didn't. Yes, I know, stupid. The next morning, W went to the front desk and told them.

Room service ends at 10pm.

Apparently this is part of a scam- people sneak into the hotel and try to break into rooms this way. Scary, and I keep trying to reassure myself that if I were the one to go to the door, no way I would have opened it, but I'm honestly not sure. W gave a description of the guy, and they do have security cameras, but I really don't expect them to find him. W told the front desk we were scared: "He knows there's women in the room now, what if he comes back? We want more security on our floor." They did provide that- I saw the guys in uniforms wandering around.

As for how did he get up to our floor in the first place, when you can only work the elevator if you have a key? I bet he just wandered on an elevator with someone else who had a key. I saw plenty of people doing that.

Sunday, we were up early and at our first workshop at 8:30am. We had a lunch break 11am-12pm, and then back into the same workshop until 2:30pm. Break again, then workshop 4:30pm-6pm.

Monday, there was a business meeting 8-12, which I had no intention of going to, so I met my college friend, G, for brunch. He picked me up on the corner nearest the hotel and we headed for a diner nearby. The diner turned out to be closed, like grass growing through the broken pavement and vines creeping up the sides of the building closed, so we ended up at a Friday's for lunch, at 11am. It was good to see him; we don't get to hang out nearly often enough. Back to the hotel for workshop 2-5pm, then dinner at Maggliano's, across the street from the hotel.

I bought a shirt for Frank from one of the exhibitors- I got it specially made for him. It says his name in fingerspelling on the front, and has a soccer ball, basketball, and a football picture under his name. On the back, it has the manual alphabet. :) It's a bit big for him, but hey, he'll grow. ;)

Tuesday, another business meeting 8-12 (how can business take up eight solid hours???), so coworker P1 and I went sightseeing while W and P2 stayed at the hotel to relax for a while. P1 and I walked towards Independence Hall and split up there- she went to the Jewish Museum and then back to the Art Museum, this time to go inside, while I went to the relatively new Constituion Center. It's a museum devoted solely to the Constituion. I spent about two hours there, and could have spent longer! It is a history geek's fantasy come to life, seriously. I bought Darrel a shot glass there, and some post cards for one of my loyal readers. *waves at Deb* I wandered around that area a bit, and headed back to the hotel for workshops 2-5pm, and 6:30-8pm.

Wednesday was our last day. We were up early and packed, and in our final workshop at 8:30am. When we broke for lunch at 11am, we ran back to the hotel, got a luggage cart, and handed it all over to the bellhop and we checked out. The bellhop labeled it for us and put it somewhere it'd all be safe. We ran to Reading Market, grabbed something quick, and ran back to the workshop, which finished at 2:30pm. After that, we went back to Reading Market again to wander around a bit more, then back to the hotel, got P2's car, loaded it up, and left at 3:15pm. Dropped off P1 at her house, then drove to P2's house, where W and I got W's car. W then drove me back to my house and headed west to her house. I walked in the door at 6:15pm. Frank smiled at me. "Hi, Mommy!" he said. "Dragontales is on!" I can see he was traumatized by my absence.

Before we'd left on Saturday, Darrel had commented to me, "Driving down and rooming with three coworkers? This could end really well or really badly." I am pleased to say that it ended really well- we got along great the whole time! We were even polite when we saw Toxic Former Coworker during a few of the workshops.

I'm looking forward to the Region 1 convention in Albany next summer, and the national convention in 2011 in Atlanta. :)

Pictures will, of course, be forthcoming. We are getting a new computer, and I am waiting for the new computer before I upload all my new pictures. Hopefully Darrel will have time soon to put it all together and set it up!

Wedding video

2009-07-31T21:04:00.000-04:00

Check this site out:

http://www.jkweddingdance.com/?562033c0

The happy couple is taking their popularity and channeling it towards a worthy cause- prevention of domestic violence. So, check the site and the video out!

RID Convention!

2009-07-31T15:04:00.000-04:00

The Registry of Interpreters for the Deaf (RID) is having their biannual national convention, starting tomorrow. For the first time in an almost ten-year career as an interpreter, I am going. It's in Philadelphia this year. Three coworkers and I are driving down together and rooming together. We figure we'll all become each others' bestest buddies or be ready to kill each other by the time we come home Wednesday night.

I'm really excited about it. I get really energized by conferences, workshops, or conventions. I guess it's because I love what I do? Or maybe it's just being around a whole bunch of other people who do the same thing I do, which, I admit, is somewhat out of the ordinary; we tell jokes that only other interpreters (or deaf people) would get, and when we swap work stories, they don't have to be prefaced with a huge explanation beforehand to explain why the story is funny or whatever. I just know I always come back totally gung ho to get back into the classroom.

I amalso looking forward to not having to carry around a diaper bag for FIVE WHOLE DAYS. I won't need to worry about packing enough for Mr Picky, or making sure there's enough wipes, or what do I pack for him to drink. I won't need to change a diaper for FIVE WHOLE DAYS. I won't need to make chicken nuggets and cut them up for FIVE WHOLE DAYS.

I'm really excited.

Stuff

2009-07-26T20:20:00.000-04:00

Okay, first off, if you haven't yet watched this video, watch it now:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NbxnfGvEojg&feature=related

I've watched it several times, and each time, it makes me smile. Everyone just looks so incredibly happy, which is how a wedding should be. I mentioned it to my favorite deacon, a 70-year-old woman, today at church, and she beamed. "Oh, I saw that on the news! I haven't seen the whole thing, but what I saw, I loved! All weddings should be that happy!" When I got home, I emailed her the link for the whole video.

Frank is doing well. Thursday we stayed home all day, and my mother in law came over. She stayed for dinner and overnight, leaving Friday at 12:30pm, when I put Frank in for a nap. By Friday, he was acting a bit more cranky, which eventually I figured out was because the kid was bored, so I took him to the library and to a couple of stores after his nap. That improved his mood a great deal. Over the weekend, he's been fine, too, except when we had to give him his medication (an antibiotic- preventatively, and ear drops). He hates them both, and cries the whole time I put the ear drops in. Fortunately, yesterday was the last day for the drops, and tomorrow is the last time for the pink medicine.

I'm watching a show right now entitled "I Didn't Know I was Pregnant". I wish my pregnancy had been so easy that I didn't know I was pregnant!

Saturday I leave for Phildelphia for five days, for the national conference of the Registry of Interpreters for the Deaf (RID). I'm driving down with three coworkers, and rooming with them, and I can't wait! It's going to be so much fun. Oh, and I think I can get all the CEUs I need for the entire year in five day, too. :) I'm meeting a friend of ours from college, G, for brunch on Monday morning. He lives in NJ, just outside Philly.

I've been trying to weed, and get an hour here and an hour there done, but it's hard- number one, herding Frank at the same time makes it somewhat unproductive, so I have to wait until he's in for a nap, and number two, the mosquitoes are TERRIBLE this year! I have so many bites, and I think a couple of them got infected. I scar very easily, too, so it doubly sucks.

We finally got the deck furniture this week we ordered from Target in early May, and got it up today. It looks nice. Things are finally starting to look put together around here!

Surgery

2009-07-22T20:28:00.001-04:00

Frank's surgery was this morning, at 9:30am. I wasn't terribly nervous about it until I got the phone call on Monday telling me the time it was slated for. I've been reading a couple of books to him about hospitals the past few days- Curious George Goes to the Hospital and Harry Goes to the Hospital. I've been talking the past few days about how, "Wednesday, we'll all go to the hospital. You'll go to sleep and the doctor will fix your ears, and when you wake up, Mommy and Daddy will be there." I'm honestly not sure how much of that he got, really.

He was in a great mood when we woke him up this morning, and was singing "Bob the Builder" the entire way to the hospital. This can get quite grating after a minute or so, because he only really knows the "Bob the Builder/Can we fix it/Bob the builder/yes we can!" part. He mumbles his way through the rest of it, and then sings nice and loud again for the chorus...and insists that whoever is in the car sings with him.

We got to the hospital at 8:20am, signed in, and I filled out paperwork while Darrel entertained Frank. At 9:15am, they took us back in, and we had more paperwork. We got Frank into his PJ bottoms and the blue hospital gown top. He sat there and cried the whole time. Once we identified to the nurse that I was the parent who was going into the OR with him, she gave me an outfit to put on over my clothes; as Darrel put it, "Look, Frank- Mommy looks like she's ready to go clean up a toxic waste dump!" It was a one piece white (disposable) jumpsuit, booties of the same material, and a hat. (If you've seen ER, then you know what kind of hat I am talking about.) The jumpsuit zipped up the front.

We then went to another waiting area, this one with some toys, which cheered Frank up a bit. Oh, and the nurse gave him stickers, too, which are always a winner. We met with the anesthesiologist there, and Dr G came in to talk to us for a few minutes. Darrel had never met Dr G before, so I introduced them, (Darrel's comment later: "Boy, their styles [both ENT doctors] really are very different!") Once that whole thing was over, it was time. We took Frank's shoes off, and I followed Dr G and carried him into the OR. The OR looked exactly like the one in the Curious George book, a fact I pointed out to Frank...who was not at all impressed by it, mostly because he'd been crying constantly since we took his shoes off.

I sat him down on the table, and the anesthesiologist moved him towards the pillow/head area, so that he was sitting there, looking at me, with his back to her. She gently placed the mask on his face, and held him and the mask firmly. He didn't fight- he just sat there crying, looking utterly defeated. I gently held his hands, told him I loved him, he was doing a great job, and when he woke up, Daddy and I would be there. In less than a minute, he was completely limp- it took me by surprise as to how quickly it happened, truthfully. And it was a bit creepy seeing it happen, and seeing him so limp like that, more limp than when he's sleeping, even!

Dr G escorted me out of the OR and pointed me back towards where Darrel was waiting. He also complimented me on how well I'd done. "Yeah, we get some parents in here...they get very emotional, which obviously doesn't do the kids any good. You did a great job and so did he."

Darrel and I went back out to the waiting room. 45 minutes later, Dr G came out- everything went fine, Frank was in recovery, and when he woke up, someone would get us. 15 minutes after that, we were informed that he was awake. We hurried back, and he was sitting on a full-size gurney, looking so tiny...and crying. As I approached him, he sobbed, "Can you pick me up?" We maneuvered the IV lines and pulse ox monitor, and I picked him up and held him. They wheeled the gurney out and a recliner chair in, and I sat on that, holding him. He lay his head on my shoulder again and fell asleep almost immediately, and stayed asleep for another hour, when we were moved to the secondary recovery area. He woke up enough at that point to indicate something of an interest in a Teletubbies video they had there...and threw up, twice. It was pretty much all blood and mucus the first time, and it wasn't much- apparently that'll happen because it gets into his stomach during the surgery. The scond time, it was applesauce and "Grover juice" (white grape juice, so called because there's a picture of Grover on it).

We left at close to 1pm. He fell asleep in the car almost before we left the parking lot. As I told my mother later, "It was like he was narcoleptic- he was crying, 'Waaaa-'. I looked back at him, and he was snoring!" He slept the whole way home, waking up when I undid his carseat. We tried to get him to drink or something, and he drank a few sips of Grover juice...and yakked all over one of our couches and himself and me. *sigh* (Side note: I think I need a new couch, it's that bad.) However, once I was changing his clothes after this fiasco, he looked up at me and announced in a clear voice, "I feel all better now!!" *giggles*

A short while later, he said his belly was hurting again. I took a chance because he wasn't being whiney about it (With him, whiney + "my belly hurts" usually = vomit soon; statement of fact about belly hurting usually means extreme hunger.) and gave him half a bagel...which he tore into like a freaking animal, he was so hungry!! I cautioned him to go slowly, but he kept tearing into it. He kept that down, drank a full Grover juice, ate a few bites of applesauce, and two chicken nuggets between 4pm and 7:30pm. I think he'll be fine. ;)

Side note: His voice is really high pitched now. It sounds like he's been sucking on helium. (They had told me this could happen, and should clear in a few days.) It's freaking hilarious. I have to work to keep from giggling each time the kid talks!

Surgery is scheduled...

2009-07-02T14:58:00.000-04:00

...for July 22nd. I don't yet know what time, but it should be in the morning, since, as was explained to me, they take younger kids earlier. He's having ear tubes put in, and adenoids taken out. He is also having what's called a tonsil ablation (sp?). Basically, this means they are not removing the tonsils; they are instead, shaving them down, leaving some tonsil tissue. It sounds like a win-win situation for him: it has approximately the same recovery as just adenoids and ear tubes (a few days), and a fraction at most of the pain associated with full tonsilectomy, because they don't cut away onto the throat muscle, not to mention much less risk of bleeding and stuff. (The surgery itself should take all of a half hour, a fact that surprised me, but apparently, as far as surgeries go, none of these are very complex.)

The doctor recommended this as opposed to simply leaving them or removing them altogether for a few reasons: Just because he's never been diagnosed with tonsilitis doesn't mean he won't be in the future, and chances of that happening are much less with less tonsil in there. Same goes for sleep apnea, which he currently does not have; it doesn't mean he couldn't develop it at some point in the future, but the chances are much less.

Time-wise, the 22nd works out well for us, too: it's well over a week before I leave for my RID convention, which means if he takes longer than expected to recuperate, I'll still be around to take care of him during the day. We're not going away on vacation at all after that, either. And it's just over a month before I go back to school.

Still, though...this is my baby going in for surgery. He's going to be scared and confused, no matter what books we read him beforehand or what we tell him! :(

My son the charmer

2009-06-29T20:40:00.000-04:00

So, I picked the kid up from daycare today. Now, just so you can visualize this properly, I did yardwork for the two hours prior to me picking him up, and was wearing an old tank top and shorts. (I also haven't shaved my legs in at least three days, but I doubt he notices such things.)

We got home, I turned on his favorite TV show, and I went to get his dinner and ours ready.

When I brought him a sippy cup with milk in it, he looked up from the TV and said, "Mommy, you look GOERGOUS!"

I burst out laughing. I did thank him. He looked pleased with himself for making me laugh. If he were older, I would have responded with, "Okay, what do you want?"

Oh, and he said that his new girlfriend is J, a different little girl than K, his one true love these many months. K does not come to daycare on Mondays and Fridays, though, so I am willing to bet that when K shows up tomorrow, she is now his girlfriend again.

In about ten years, there are going to be females calling this house day and night.

I am so screwed.

Bees!

2009-06-28T21:18:00.000-04:00

We have bees! Those who know me well will be able to hear the mortal terror in my tone when I say that line.

Bees have decided to make the eaves just off our deck their new cozy home. Darrel sprayed this evening, after the sun went down, with some Raid wasp and hornet spray. He reports that the bees seem pretty pissed, and are completely unwilling to go anywhere near the eaves. Me, I'd rather have them dead than pissed, because alive and pissed means they can just find another home...hopefully one far away from my house!

As if I didn't have enough to worry about here, between the bears and the snakes...

Oh, I never mentioned the snakes? Well, one snake, but still. Two weeks ago, Frank and I were coming home in the afternoon, and we walked around to the front door. As we passed one of the bushes, I looked closely at the odd thing that looked somewhat like a stick nestled cozily on top of it.

It was a snake. Mere feet from my house. And mere feet from my two-year-old, who fears nothing.

I picked up said two-year-old, and pointed out the snake. "Ohhh...can I touch it?" he asked, as I'd known he would. (I do hate to say it, but in certain ways, I am finding toddlers to be quite predictable!)

"No," I told him. "Never, ever, ever touch a snake. Snakes can bite, and it will hurt! Don't touch the snake. If you see a snake, don't touch, tell Mommy and Daddy."

I think it's (sort of) sunk in, mostly because I quiz him on this from time to time. "Frank, what do you do if you see a snake?"

"Tell Mommy and Daddy."

"Do you touch the snake?"

"No!"

Who knew I moved out to wild freaking kingdom??

Walk to Defeat ALS

2009-06-26T12:41:00.000-04:00

I noticed I got a comment from the ALS Association of Greater New York on one of my previous postings *waves* Yes, I did walk again this year, and I raised more than I had ever raised before- more than $1000!! I don't have an exact amount yet, because a couple of donations have just come in now, two weeks after the walk. I'm really pleased with how well I did; I think my top before was $500.

Frank, a coworker, P, and I walked that day. Well, we planned on walking. P brought a friend of hers, and we met up with her neighbors there, which turned out to be a blessing in disguise- Frank had an absolute meltdown! See, the area before you actually start walking is noisy, with a huge sound system blasting out music, and there are tons of people there. It was too crowded and too noisy for him to handle- he just started crying and couldn't stop. Usually, he doesn't seem to have a problem with noise- Lord knows there have been plenty of times I've walked into daycare to pick him up and the place has been an absolute zoo- but for whatever reason, he couldn't handle it that day, so he and I left before the walk even started. :( Still, though, the ALS Association got the money, which is the important part, I guess, but I was rather disappointed. I'm going to definitely reconsider whether I take him next year or not! Anyway, P and her friend walked together, and they had a good time. The weather was perfect that day, too.

I have an appointment next Thursday with Frank's ENT doctor. Hopefully I can schedule his surgery while I am there.

I'm back!

2009-06-25T15:03:00.000-04:00

Yeah, okay, I took a couple of months off. Honestly, I wasn't sure what to write about, and then I was too tired, and too lazy, so...yeah.

Anyway, it's officially summer! I say officially because school got out this past Monday, and Graduation was Monday night. It's hard to say who's more happy on Graduation day- students or staff. I think this year the staff won that contest. I can't say too much here, but there's a lot of things going on at work right now that are making it a very stressful place to be. Hopefully a summer of rest for everyone will help that situation a bit.

Frank is doing okay. I'm not sure if I've blogged about his ear infection saga or not, and am feeling too lazy to go back and check. Anyway, he had an upper respiratory creeping crud thing back in late January; I brought him to the pediatrician, and she looked in his ears and told me that he also had a double ear infection, a bad one. She prescribed an antibiotic and told me to bring him back in a week to get checked out, it was that bad; normally, for ears, she has patients come back in four weeks. Darrel took him back the following week, and the upper respiratory thing was much better, but the ears were just as bad, so home they came with antibiotic number two. One month later, we went back- the ears were better, but not totally healed, so home we went with antibiotic number three. One month later, (we're now on the first week in April, for those playing along at home) back we went- the ears still had fluid, albeit noninfected. She said that, if not for his history, she wouldn't be concerned about it, but with his history, she recommended that we take him to an ear, nose and throat specialist. (ENT)

Darrel and I took him to Dr. L. Not only was his card one of the handful of possibilities that the pediatrician gave us, but the mother of one of Frank's classmates recommended him, saying he had a good way with kids, and was not "quick to cut". I did not like this doctor, but couldn't put my finger on what bothered me. Anyway, he recomended tubes, which we figured was coming, and when he looked in Frank's throat, he said his tonsils were huge, and would need to come out, and oh, the adenoids would need to go, too- did we hear that nasally quality in Frank's speech? That was from the tonsils and the adenoids being too large. They also needed to come out because they were blocking the Eustachian tubes, and even if he got tubes, in a year or two, we'd be back where we started with the ears. He basically just threw this all at us, without really giving us time to ask questions.

Well, I asked him if the surgery could wait until July- I have off for the summer, and it's not really feasible for either of us to take two weeks off during the school year to be home with Frank while he recovers from surgery. His answer? "It's possible but not optimal. Get Grandma or someone to stay with him, if you can't."

"Well, see, that's precisely the problem," I told him icily. "We don't have anyone who can stay with him."

"Well, you can get Family Leave, right?"

"No, not really. I've been absent too much this school year as is, and I do not have tenure."

Grr. Anyway, we went home and thought the whole thing through, and I talked to my coworkers, experienced mommies all. After hearing many tell me to bring him for a second opinion, I did, to Dr. G.

I should have gone to Dr. G to begin with! From the start, I felt much more comfortable with him. After listening to me tell him the history, he looked in Frank's throat and commented, "Well, his tonsils are kinda big, but they're not the biggest I've ever seen. How many times has he had tonsilitis?"

"Um...he's never been diagnosed with it," I told him. Yes, I fully appreciate that he may have had it but never been formally diagnosed with it, which is why I phrased the repsonse that way. Dr. G frowned.

"Does he have sleep apnea? Snoring, sounds like he stops breathing during the night?"

"He breathes deeply, but he doesn't do that stereotypical snore, you know? And as for the breathing...we don't keep the monitor on all night. I can't say that he does, but I can't say that he doesn't, either."

Dr. G explained that he was not a fan of "while we're in there, let's yank the tonsils, too." He said without sleep apnea and without a history of tonsilitis, he was uncomfortable recommending the tonsils come out, and referred him for a sleep study, in the pediatric sleep lab at the hospital.

We did the sleep study Friday night. Yay for spending the night ina vinyl recliner next to Frank's crib. [/heavy sarcasm] Frank was confused and upset, and kept asking to go home. :( Beforehand, I had cringed at the thought of the electrodes- yay for putting sticky things on the skin of a child with Sensory Processing Disorder! This is a child who won't even let us put a band-aid on him. Seriously, he'd rather bleed. We even tried the Elmo band-aids- no dice. However, he handled the electrodes better than I had thought he would. he still wasn't happy about them, but he didn't try to yank them all off like I'd expected him to.

The other annoyance was, when he rolled over during the night, some of the electrodes fell off, which meant the tech had to come in and reattach them, waking him up in the process. Needless to say, both Frank and I were just in a wonderful mood by about 6am, when they sent us on our merry way. Saturday night, we both slept quite well!

The good news is, he does not have sleep apnea! I need to make the follow-up appointment with Dr G (I transferred his records from Dr L to Dr G last week), and then schedule the surgery. But I feel much better not having to do the tonsils- the recovery time will apparently be half without that!!

This is a sport??

2009-04-11T15:40:00.001-04:00

Darrel is watching the Masters downstairs. It's a big golf tournament. It seems like there's a Big Golf Tournament on TV every other weekend in spring, but I digress. Why exactly is golf classified as a sport?? I'm with Rosie O'Donnell on this one: there's no defense. Also, unless you are walking from hole to hole in the hot sun, there is no sweating or exertion.

Along those lines, why is poker regularly shown on the various incarnations of ESPN?? (Or the Travel Channel, for that matter?) Poker certainly cannot be considered a sport by anyone's definition. An activity, a highly enjoyable one (sometimes), sure, but sport? Nope.

Week off

2009-04-09T21:11:00.000-04:00

So, I had this week off from school. Well, I had this week off except for Monday- we had to go in that day, to make up from the extra snow day we had. All of the kids who made it to school looked thoroughly ticked off that they were there. One of them even snapped at me something like, "I don't even want to be here today, anyway!" I snapped back, "Me either, pal. I'd much rather be at home working in my garden than here!" He looked so shocked and shut right up. I swear, they must truly think we staff live in the school building or something. Try as I might, I cannot for the life of me remember what I thought teachers did on the weekends when I was in high school!

So, Tuesday, Wednesday, and today, I did a whole lot of nothing. Well, that's not entirely accurate. I ran some errands, but most of what I've done this week is scrapbooking. I have a ton of old family photos from various sources, and they were all essentially given to me in a bag or box, and a few albums, but mostly unlabelled. I have been going through them all, trying to organize them, so I can put them in photo-safe scrapbooks. I've done quite a lot of it this week, but I expect to be working on it for many weeks yet. (Why did I end up getting all these photos? I am the Family Genealogist, which apparently means I need to have all this stuff.) I'm giving some of the photos to my brother and sister. I already gave away some of them (Really, why on earth do I need multiple photos from the multiple proms Little Brother went to?? Or Little Sister's dances recitals??), but there's more that's going to be given away, I think.

Frank's daycare is closed tomorrow. I had him in daycare all week, which was why I was able to get so much of the photo stuff organized. He has a doctor's appointment tomorrow morning, to check on his ears, which have been plaugued with ear infections all winter. If his ears still show signs of infection tomorrow, it's off to an ENT we go. I have a feeling that means we'd be discussing ear tubes. *sigh* One way I certainly did not want my kid taking after me, that's for sure. I had tubes when I was a kid, and I know the surgery is relatively minor as far as surgeries go- even in 1979, and with all my health problems, I was in and out in one day- but I don't want my kid to need surgery, obviously.

We are hosting both families here Sunday. Whee! I got baskets for all the kids. I think Darrel thinks I went a bit overboard, but I wanted to make being dragged around to family things all day with a bunch of people they only see seldom slightly more fun for my nieces.

What doe sone serve with leg of lamb? I've only made it once before, just for us, so I really have no idea.

PS. I forgot to mention that it snowed here yesterday. SNOWED! In April. It didn't stick, but come on...it's APRIL!

Random

2009-03-22T15:42:00.000-04:00

I got my husband to join Facebook!! Bwahahahaha! This is absolute proof that resistance is in fact futile. ;) He resisted it for a long time, but he's taken to it like a duck to water, and been posting smack talk with all The Guys.

It is still cold here, although not as cold as it's been. I could really do without seeing temperatures in the 30 degree range for a long time, though. I'm also still not enamored with waking up while it's pitch dark. I do not like Daylight Savings Time coming this early in the season. It doesn't save us any money around here, that's for sure- the heat has to go on earlier so I don't freeze my ass off when I wake up (we turn it way down at night), and I'm using lights in the morning so I don't trip over all the toys my son leaves all over the living room! I actually read an article recently about one state, I believe Indiana, that only finally began using DST about four years ago, and their usage of electricity has gone up since they began using it, not down!

I'm dying to get outside and work on my various gardens. It seems that my beds that frame the front walkway have flowers in them- it looks like tulips are coming up! I bought crocuses to plant, but now I'm glad I didn't plant them last fall, like I was planning to- I can see what flowers I have and where. I'll eventually plant them somewhere, of course, but I want to rip out a bunch of bushes and rearrange things first.

I also bought seeds for a vegetable garden. I think I want it right underneath my kitchen window; I think that'll get the best sunlight of anywhere in the backyard. I want to plant cucumbers, peppers, and of course, tomatoes. (This is Jersey, after all!!) I have no idea how to rip up the grass that's in that spot, though- do I just use a shovel on it? Then I'll have to get fencing for the entire perimeter, to keep the critters out.

Speaking of critters, the bears haven't been back yet. Not that I miss them, mind you. I just worry about them whether they're here or not. I love the idea of the swingset Frank will have out in the backyard come late spring- Mom, Aunt, Uncle, and my sister got him one for Christmas- but I worry about being outside during the day with him, when there's no one else around- what if the bears show up??

Today is a lazy Sunday. I interpreted this morning, came home, made a pizza for lunch, and we put Frank in for a nap. Darrel and I have a live draft tonight for our fanatasy baseball league we're in with my brother, among others. I have no clue what I'm doing! Should be fun.

The Amazing Race

2009-03-15T21:06:00.000-04:00

Okay, yes, it's a "reality show", and normally I hate the whole genre. But Darrel got me hooked on this show several seasons back. We mostly giggle at the draaaamaaaa that goes on, but we really do like being able to say, "Hey, we've been there!" occasionally.

This season (number 14) is different, though: There's a deaf guy on it, with his mom. A really deaf guy, who doesn't really use speech much, unlike, say, Marlee Matlin. Whom I adore, by the way- I think she's a really good actress, and it's nice for the kids to have someone so high profile to look up to. She's quite sweet, too- we took the kids to hear her speak (okay, see her speak) a few years back, and she took plenty of time with each student, especially the deaf-blind kid, at the autograph signing afterwards. Oh, and I got my picture taken with her interpreter, Jack, who is also quite nice.

Anyway, I think it's cool that they have this guy, Luke, and his mom, Margie, on the show. They're doing very well, so far, too- they've come in first twice and fourth twice. I also like how their thing is "the deaf guy and his mom", (for those who don't watch the show, every team of two people has a thing- this time around, there's two brothers who are stuntmen, a gay man and his gay dad, former NFL cheerleaders, flight attendants, etc.) but his deafness doesn't seem to make much difference in the race.

I'm kind of surprised more of the kids aren't watching the show, though; they certainly tuned in when the deaf woman was on "Survivor"! But the interpreting staff discusses the latest episode every Monday morning. ;)

Wednesday

2009-03-11T08:42:00.001-04:00

So, I've been pretty busy the last few weeks, as you may have guessed, since I didn't update much. The primary reason is the spring musical at school. We had three deaf kids in the cast this year, the first time I think we've ever had deaf kids in the cast, and I was doing most of the interpreting for them. For much of the rehearsal time, I was only doing two days a week, but the last two weeks, I was there EVERY DAY after school. This is because I had to learn when the kids needed to be onstage and when they needed to come off, about costume changes, etc.

I didn't need to know all that so I could tell them- they all knew what they needed to do. I needed to be there because one of them, B, has Usher Syndrome. US is a genetic disorder in which one is deaf and eventually goes blind. It's never predictable as to how much vision one will lose, either. B has lost much of his peripheral vision already, and his night vision is very poor; this means he's legally blind, and will never be permitted to get a driver's license. B wanted me with them during all performances so I could serve as his sight guide getting him on and offstage- when the house lights go down, he can't see anything.

All around, it was an incredibly positive experience for them and for me. The theater kids proved very open to the idea of having deaf kids in the cast (B even had one line- he signed it while another boy onstage voiced it.) and to the idea of learning to sign. It's one of the few times I've interpreted an activity where the deaf kids didn't cluster together in a corner- they totally integrated themselves with the hearing kids! It was wonderful.

The performances went great as well; the Sunday matinee, the final performance, was SOLD OUT. It became standing room only because more and more people just kept showing up!

In a way, I'm kind of sad it's all over, but at the same time, I'm quite happy to have my life back. Darrel was picking up Frank at daycare every day, which meant he was there until 5:30pm most nights, as opposed to when I pick him up, when he's usually out of there by around 3pm. I got home most nights well after Frank was in bed, so I saw him for maybe a half hour in the morning.

I calculated how much OT pay I'll be getting, and I'll have plenty to get the powder room redone! Yay! :)

***********************

I'm home today because Frank gave me pink eye. I am waiting for my doctor's office to open at 9am so I can call and get an appointment. I have been sick kind of the last several days, trying to fight off a cold, and I think it's bordering on a sinus infection, so I probably would have tried to get an appointment before the end of the week, anyway, but it annoys me that I have to take a sick day for stupid pink eye.

***********************

We have an Army base about two miles from my house. Every once in a while, we hear a BOOM from that direction; I don't know what they set off, but it's pretty loud. We also have blasting going on out on route 80, for construction. So I get the BOOMs from both directions. Anyway, I don't know which I just heard, but it scared the crap out of me, and it shook the house!

Hm, maybe it was another earthquake...some people said the first two felt simply like an explosion...

!@#$%^&*&***((!!!!

2009-03-02T14:34:00.000-05:00

We have snow. Again.

I measured two hours ago, and it was at seven inches.

It hasn't stopped.

The wind is blowing, too, so there's really no point in shoveling- it'll al blow right back onto the driveway.

Did I mention it hasn't stopped?

Oh, and yeah, I have no school today, which means I get to go in Monday of my spring break week. Well, not just me- me and all the other students and staff in district. Yay. Seriously, though, the families in town always go away for spring break; I wonder if we'll have enough kids for it to actually count as a day.

On the plus side, the school musical I've been interpreting for is this weekend. It means a madly busy week for me, with 12+ hour workdays all week, but the OT paycheck I get next month will be NICE!!

But I frigging hate snow with the white-hot heat of a thousand suns.

Too bad that won't melt all that white shit I have out there right now.

Week off

2009-02-19T19:51:00.001-05:00

So, we apparently had another earthquake Tuesday night.

I slept through that one, too. Of course, it was only a 2.3 or something pitiful like that.

I have this week off from school for winter break. It's been a busy week for me- I've gotten a lot accomplished, but I don't feel terribly rested. Monday, Frank had off as well, so we went to see my mother and have lunch there. Lunch was right smack in the middle of Frank's normal nap time, so he slept in the car on the way home, and, once we got home, I put him in his crib for the remainder of his nap. My mother is quite excited about her trip she leaves on next week- she's visiting one of her oldest friends in Atlanta, and then she, Friend, and Other Friend are going to Cancun! Must be nice, going somewhere warm...Seriously, I don't begrudge her- the woman has worked hard enough her entire adult life, it's about time she just kicked back and had a good time.

I started over the weeked, and finished Tuesday, painting the master bathroom. It's a dark blue color, and I love it! Darrel initally was a bit wary- he was afraid it would look too dark and gloomy, but now that it's up, he likes it, too. I have to fix the trim areas- I ran out of painter's tape, so there are some areas that need more than a little fixing up- but other than that, it looks good. :)

Wednesday I went into NYC. As I've mentioned before, I like to do this every once in a while, to check out museums and stuff. Part of the problem with living so close to a place like New York is that you fall into thinking, "It's always been there; it'll always be there", and, if there's anything that 9/11 taught us, it's that no, nothing is guaranteed to always be there, nor are we, so I want to see as much of it as possible. I never went to the top of the World Trade Center, and it's one of the bigger regrets I have.

So, yesterday, I went on the Staten Island Ferry. It's free, and I'd always been told it's a nice way to see NYC, Ellis Island, and the Statue of Liberty from the water. I have a feeling it's much nicer when it's warmer and the windows can be opened- they were pretty dirty and hard to see much out of.
The above picture is of one of the SI ferries.

I also checked out the African Burial ground, about a block north of City Hall. Apparently, there were quite a lot of slaves in the early years of NYC, and they were buried out in the boonies at that time. The years went by, a lot of City was built over the essentially unmarked burial site, and it was forgotten, until 1991, when some excavation was done to prepare for building yet another tall building...and lots of skeletons were discovered. It is now a small site run by the Naptional Park Service, and like many of their properties, it's free, and staffed by volunteers who are quite knowledgeable about City history, so, if you're as much of a history geek as I am, I suggest you check it out, next time you're in NYC.

I also went to the New Museum of Contemporary Art. It's on Bowery, in a new building that just opened last year. I didn't spend a great deal of time there- the art was a bit weird for me! I did like the Ukranian Museum, though, and found some new artists to like. The Sports Museum of America, which is way down by Bowling Green, was really interesting. It's basically brand new, just opened last year, and is quite extensive. They have all kinds of films, all the films are captioned all the time (yes, I asked), and they even show some fencers on some of these films! :) I told Darrel that when Frank is a little bit older, the three of us have to go back there, because I think he'd really like it a lot. Oh, yeah, and they have the Heisman Trophy on display there, too, and you can actually touch it. My husband the football lover almost started drooling when I said that!

Today I basically vegged out, and tomorrow I have IVIG at noon, so it's another day of just hanging out around here. I have to finish cleaning out my desk, shred a bunch of papers, and finish a scrapbook I've had sitting on the floor here for the better part of a month.

Oh, and it snowed again yesterday and today. It didn't stick, but it still pissed me off.

Fault line

2009-02-05T20:06:00.001-05:00

As I said, I live along the Ramapo fault line; here's a map of NJ showing where it is, exactly:

http://www.state.nj.us/dep/njgs/enviroed/physiog.htm

Actually, I'm not exactly right on the fault; I think my house is somewhere between the A in "Highlands" and the line itself.

And, before you ask: no, we haven't had any aftershocks.

Earthquake!

2009-02-04T19:25:00.000-05:00

This really should have been the subject of yesterday's entry, but whatever.

So, for background info, my house is right on top of the Ramapo fault line, which I've known for years runs right through this area of northern NJ. We occasionally will get earthquakes- the last one I lived through, well, I slept through it; I think that was about a 3.5-ish. My MIL was awakened by one a few years ago.

So, yesterday morning, in the pre-dawn darkness, I sat down to eat my Cheerios and watch the news. In one of their promos, they showed a reporter live in my town, saying something about an earthquake the night before! Obviously this caught my attention, and I thought it had to be a mistake, because I'd felt nothing the night before.

It turned out the earthquake happened at 10:34pm EST, and the epicenter was roughly five miles as the crow flies from my house. Hubby slept through it as well. It did no damage here or anywhere else, and no one wa sinjured from it.

Pretty much no one else slept through it, though. Coworkers who all live nearby, as well as most of the students at Very Wealthy High School I work at all felt it, and all had a story to tell.

There's an Army base about two miles down the road from me, and during the day, they're always setting off something, so apprently a lot of people called police and asked what the Army base was doing at 10:30pm!

I'm kind of disappointed that I slept through an earthquake...for the second time. I don't need to experience The Big One; I'm just curious as to what it feels like to be in one.

Apparently having me around guarantees a smaller earthquake, though. ;)

grits teeth

2009-02-03T21:03:00.001-05:00

It snowed again today.

No one I see on a daily basis is happy. Even the skiers are not happy- something about, "Well, it's made the roads so bad, it's not like I could get up to Mountain Creek to enjoy this one at all, anyway!"

It's probably somewhere between three and four more inches. Now, we had quite a bit of meltage over the weekend, with highs in the mid forties, which was NICE. This coming weekend, it's supposed to be in the FIFTIES! Right now, though, my husband is eyeing up the driveway, again, and steeling himself up for a shoveling job in the morning. (Yes, for the most part, shoveling is his job. I cook, he can shovel. Besides, I'm getting over a serious illness, right? ;) )

Frank is still somewhat lethargic, prompting a phone call from daycare today. The person who called me started to tell me about The Virus: "It's really like a flu, it's really quite bad..." I interrupted her with, "I know how bad it is- I got pneumonia from it!"

I'm starting to feel like they think we're bad parents trying to send our kid to school when he's sick. Let's see, he came down with this Thing a week ago Friday. That's eleven days ago. Eleven. For a "four or five day" virus. He's been home for a solid week, more if you count both weekends. He's been on a new, stronger antibiotic since Friday, and no longer has a fever. My humble opinion is that Frank is at the point where he's still tired from it, but if you give in to the tired, it takes that much longer to get over it all, so you have to just suck it up and soldier on. (I realize this sounds harsh when talking about a two-year-old, but really, how long can you keep a kid home who is now playing perfectly normally at home and trying to climb things like normal and being a brat at the same time because he's bored??)

He's still not eating much, true. I have a suspiscion this is the Sensory Processing Disorder rearing its ugly head and it'll take a session or two with the OT to get him back on track with food.

Is it spring yet?

I'm back!

2009-01-31T12:26:00.001-05:00

Sadly, it's not from a vacation.

Last Friday, as in eight days ago, my son came home from daycare with a Virus. This one deserves the respect of being capilatized, because it's a nasty one. It causes high fever, they told me, and it lasts about 72 hours. Okay, fine, we did the math and this meant that, in all likelihood, he'd have to be home from school Monday. We've gotten pretty lucky with this kid so far- he hadn't been out sick from school once- so we were pretty philosophical about it all.

So, Sunday morning, I woke up, went and interpreted in church, and came home early. Why? I had The Virus. I had a fever, chills and sweats, the works. So, all three of us stayed home Monday- Darrel to take care of the both of us, because I was too sick to even think about caring for Frank.

Tuesday we all stayed home again. Frank was fever-free by Wednesday afternoon, and they were predicting insane snow for us for Wednesday, arriving at the perfect time, so that meant, if all went well, the two of us would have one more day home to recuperate before going back thursday.

Wednesday- Yes! Snow Day for all! Frank seemed ornery, although fever-free, so we thought he was just bored and needed to go back. I still felt crummy, so I called in sick for Thursday.

Thursday- Darrel and Frank left around 8am, and I got dressed and drove myself to the local hospital. Why, you ask? I woke in the middle of the night with a pain in my torso, very similar to the pain I had two years ago when I had double pneumonia and an empyema. It wasn't as painful, but the location and type of pain were scarily familiar, and I didn't want to fool around and wait to call my Primary care doctor and try to get in later in the day.

After three hours of staring at the ceiling in the ER (the plus side? I now know what is involved in doing an intake for a detox bed- the guy in the curtain area next to mine was trying to quit heroin, and, curtains being what they are, I was able to hear everything!), I was diagnosed with bronchitis and "a little bit of pneumonia". Hm, isn't that like being a little bit pregnant?

The good news is, I am okay enough that they let me leave the hospital that day. I came home with a scrip for an antibiotic and orders to rest and not go back to work until at least Monday.

My mother is really worried, and she's not a woman who worries easily or outwardly.

I am just so frustrated- I am so useless, I cannot even care for my son through a virus without worrying about ending up in a hospital? It's really very depressing. The fact that winters seem longer and longer as I get older doesn't help, either. I'm starting to fanatsize about moving south, somewhere, anywhere. I've lived in NJ my entire life, but I may have to face the fact that the climate here just isn't good for me, at least in winters. I have to work in the NJ school s at least 25 years, though, to get the pension and be able to get the same health insurance after I retire. That means the earliest I can retire would be age 51. I am hoping to make it to 56, and make it a nice even 30 years in the system, but I just honestly don't know if my body will be able to handle it!

Oh, and the coda on this whole deal? The daycare called Thursday aftrenoon- Frank had another fever! This meant he'd be home with me Friday, because he has to be fever-free for 24 hours before he's allowed back. I called my best friend, the most wonderful, awesome, selfless, giving human being on the planet, and she graciously agreed to come and help me out Friday afternoon. Friday morning, I got Frank an appointment in with the pediatrician, and it turns out that he not only has bronchitis, but he also has a double ear infection, a bad one! Bronchitis, I had a feeling about, but the ears?? He never indicated pain with them! When I said this to the doctor, she shrugged and said, "Some kids just have a very high pain tolerance."

So, how do you explain to a little kid that there are some pains one must give in to and tell Mommy about without turning the child into a hypochondriac??

Inauguration Day

2009-01-20T19:51:00.001-05:00

I watched the Inauguration this morning at school, in the cafeteria with about 75 high school students. I work in a very conservative, very wealthy district where many of the kids unsurprisingly parrot the views of their parents. So, imagine my surprise and pleasure when Barack Obama was given the oath of office and, at the end, the kids all burst into applause. It really caused goosebumps for me, and it made me a little teary-eyed.

I grew up in New Jersey, not anywhere near what you'd call the deep South, but I grew up in a town that was very white. We had some Asians in my high school, but we mostly were white. My father is a very prejudiced man, outwardly so; my mother is somewhat prejudiced, too, but not nearly as bad as my father. If you had announced to my family when I was growing up that I would see a black man become President before I died, they would have chuckled, at the very least. (I have always said that this country would elect a black man before it elects a white woman to lead it, but that's another issue altogether.)

I am so happy to be able to say that, when my son is my age, he will look back on this date and wonder what the big deal was. As he grows up, for him, a person of color reaching the highest office in the land will be a given, not a pipe dream. He will grow up automatically seeing black people as equals, not as the scary people I thought they were because the only ones I ever saw were on TV, being arrested.

I just hope that those who are heaping such accolades on President Obama now aren't disappointed in the days and weeks to come when he isn't able to fix everything overnight. In reality, Presidents don't really affect every day life all that much, and I hope that people's love for the man doesn't turn into contempt because he's not Superman and won't be able to change everything immediately.

It's kind of cool, what we do every four years. We elect someone new to lead us, and have a turnover of power peacfully, without any death or bloodshed of any kind. We were the first country to think that was a good idea, and for over 200 years, we've done it well.

God bless America.

Busy

2009-01-11T20:15:00.000-05:00

This week, rehearsals began for the spring musical, "Cinderella". There are three deaf kids in the chorus, so I will be interpreting practices a couple of days a week from now until the show, the first weekend in March. It's fun, and it's nice to interpret rehearsals without having to think the whole time, "Oh crap...I really have no idea how I'm going to interpret this song and this line!" That's the kids' jobs, to figure that stuff out, for the times they'll be onstage. :)

So, combine that with Frank having OT once a week, and possibly adding speech therapy to that (His speech is fine, but the drooling...His OT says that the standard is if the child is still drooling after 24 months for the child to get evaluated. He's still drooling just as much as when he was six months old! Anyway, speech therapists can do exercises and stuff to strengthen jaw muscles so some of that drool stays in his mouth.), and leaving one day a week for errands or other doctor's appointments, I'll be busy for the next two months. That's good, because it'll give me less time to hang out around here and, you know, eat. And extra money is always good.

Scales are very annoying. My doctor's scale two weeks ago said I was 150 pounds. This was at 9:30am, and I was fasting because I was getting blood drawn. The scale in the nurse's office at school says 152. (I have decided that I hate that scale.) My brand new digital scale I bought last week says, when I weigh myself first thing in the morning that I am 146 pounds. I realize there will be some fluctuation between scales because of time of day I weigh myself, what I've eaten, and what I'm wearing, as well as just because they're different scales, but six pounds difference?? While I have decided that I like my new scale the best, I certainly don't think I have been so good and lost four plus pounds in two weeks! At least, that's not what my clothes are telling me.

Monday

2009-01-05T21:58:00.000-05:00

I want some chocolate, and I want it now.

That is all.

Dietwatch 2009

2009-01-04T20:18:00.000-05:00

The good: I bought Romaine lettuce yesterday, instead of my typical iceberg. Romaine is better for you, because it's darker green, and that means it has more good stuff than iceberg. Iceberg, apprently, is not even empty calories- it's got almost none, and it's got almost nothing nutritionally speaking.

The bad: I ate it in a salad as part of my dinner tonight (the Romaine). I don't like it- it's too bitter or something. *sighs* I guess I'll have to get used to it.

In other news, I took the curtains down in my bedroom and the bathroom today. These were the curtains the former owners had left behind. They were both the same- green and white flowery print. They were okay, but I don't do flowery prints. Taking them down was a major effort, too, because they were obviously professionally done-the curtain rods were a special kind like I'd never seen before, and they were just short of bolted into the wall! They had weird screws, too, so I went through three different screwdrivers none of which was exactly right, to get them out. (I think whoever put them up must have used some kind of mechanical aid.)

Anyway, I took them down because I went to Target today after church, and finally found curtains for both rooms that I liked. I'm not putting the bathroom curtains up until I paint the bathroom, which will probably be during my February break.

And, yes, I will take before and after pictures this time. :p

Triglycerides

2009-01-03T13:38:00.000-05:00

That's what's wrong. My triglycerides are way high. My total cholesterol was 203- not great, but not terrible. Basically, my doctor told me that, in my case, the triglycerides are high because I'm thirty pounds overweight, and I need to lose that weight, stat. (This can also happen if you have diabetes, which I don't- my blood sugar was a nice, normal 81- or if you drink too much, which I definitely don't do!)

So. This morning we went food shopping, and I bought lots of fruits and veggies. We're buying a treadmill so both of us can exercise without leaving the house. (Because, really, who wants to walk around the block when it's 20 freaking degrees outside?)

As of this morning, I am 150 pounds. My goal is to lose twenty of those by summer.

Oh, yeah, and I have to get the triglycerides retested in three months, too, to see if they've gone down.