I'm getting stupid excited for the book launch. And it's not even my book! I dunno. I think it's everything- the launch, seeing my grandmother, my cousins, my aunt, my brother-in-law AND meeting his girlfriend. I took the kids out to get presents for some people and we're now home watching TV and waiting for laundry to finish. Just this morning, I have:
checked in early
printed my boarding pass
printed the info for the car service
printed information for Adam on who needs to be where and when
e-mailed workouts for "my" group to the head coach AND printed copies for the other coaches
bought a book
downloaded several books to my Kindle app on my phone AND my computer
downloaded a new album to my phone because heaven forbid I be BORED
got presents for people. Yep, super cook Kansas presents. I am awesome like that.
Bought a pretty new skirt to match my lucky white shirt.
Read this article about the book
Speaking of parenting things, my oldest is hanging out with my parents for 3 weeks. So far he has mowed the lawn, helped my mom in the garden, gone to the barber, helped baby-sit his cousins and gone shopping for the food pantry. If he thought it was going to be all fun and games and SUGAR... poor kid. I'll feel bad for him sometimes. ;) No, really, he's going to have a blast.
I have to run and finish packing. Shoes. I need to pick SHOES.
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parenting. Show all posts
Monday, July 13, 2015
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
So this happened
About 18 months ago, I read an article by Deanna Fei, My Baby and AOL's Bottom Line. It's well-written and sharp but something about the author's tone made me send a message to the author.
Now, I never leave comments in the combox unless it is a blogger I know or I'm entering to win something. And I never, ever, ever message author's I don't know. ComBoxes tend to make me weep for humanity, especially when it comes to articles that might be controversial. As for e-mailing authors... eh. I leave great Amazon reviews. I tell everyone about their books. I favorite them on Goodreads. But I don't e-mail them because I don't want to seem like some pre-teen fangirl even if I am totally fangirling inside.
Yet I did. I have a vague notion of what I said, something about how she is not alone in her feelings. I e-mailed her, I received a short note in reply and that was that.
Until last week, about 18 months after I read the article. I received an e-mail from Fei thanking me for my comment and how it was one of many that inspired her to write a book, Girl In Glass (due in July) about her experiences. A few e-mails later (!!! because who am I kidding, I was sitting there with a dumb grin on my face thinking, "THIS IS SO COOL!") she told me that my initial e-mail to her is quoted in her book! It's anonymous, of course, but still!!!
Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get paid nothing. My name's not even in there. BUT. PEOPLE! A real live, honest to goodness writer- like, she's written another novel! She make a living writing!- said that something I (yeah, yeah, yeah, and others) inspired her next work. At swanky dinner parties (that I never attend), I'll be able to toss my hair, casually sip my wine and just happen to say, "You know, when I was quoted by/inspired an author..." Years from now, I'll pull the book off my shelves and show my grandchildren where I am (not) mentioned in a book.
Okay, yes, I am a complete goober. I'm aware this is interesting and super cool to only me. I am also aware that I might be mildly in awe of anyone who is published because I know how long, hard and slogging the process is. But it's funny, you know, how having a preterm infant puts everyone on equal footing: a housewife and swim coach with four children in the suburbs of the midwest suddenly has something in common with a writer in NYC, all because of an intensive care unit. I have a feeling we could sit down over tea (or KC BBQ or, even better, NY bagels piled with cream cheese or butter) and not run out of things to talk about. We have a common ground in our children, their early beginnings and our struggles. It seems we both have a passion for educating people about pre-term infants and everything that it entails, during the NICU and after.
You know what the best thing about this is, though? My words made someone feel better. I never know if reaching out to someone is going to be well received, especially when her daughter was born much earlier than my son. Yet it did and, to me, that's better than any (not) mention in a book.
Now, I never leave comments in the combox unless it is a blogger I know or I'm entering to win something. And I never, ever, ever message author's I don't know. ComBoxes tend to make me weep for humanity, especially when it comes to articles that might be controversial. As for e-mailing authors... eh. I leave great Amazon reviews. I tell everyone about their books. I favorite them on Goodreads. But I don't e-mail them because I don't want to seem like some pre-teen fangirl even if I am totally fangirling inside.
Yet I did. I have a vague notion of what I said, something about how she is not alone in her feelings. I e-mailed her, I received a short note in reply and that was that.
Until last week, about 18 months after I read the article. I received an e-mail from Fei thanking me for my comment and how it was one of many that inspired her to write a book, Girl In Glass (due in July) about her experiences. A few e-mails later (!!! because who am I kidding, I was sitting there with a dumb grin on my face thinking, "THIS IS SO COOL!") she told me that my initial e-mail to her is quoted in her book! It's anonymous, of course, but still!!!
Yeah, yeah, yeah. I get paid nothing. My name's not even in there. BUT. PEOPLE! A real live, honest to goodness writer- like, she's written another novel! She make a living writing!- said that something I (yeah, yeah, yeah, and others) inspired her next work. At swanky dinner parties (that I never attend), I'll be able to toss my hair, casually sip my wine and just happen to say, "You know, when I was quoted by/inspired an author..." Years from now, I'll pull the book off my shelves and show my grandchildren where I am (not) mentioned in a book.
Okay, yes, I am a complete goober. I'm aware this is interesting and super cool to only me. I am also aware that I might be mildly in awe of anyone who is published because I know how long, hard and slogging the process is. But it's funny, you know, how having a preterm infant puts everyone on equal footing: a housewife and swim coach with four children in the suburbs of the midwest suddenly has something in common with a writer in NYC, all because of an intensive care unit. I have a feeling we could sit down over tea (or KC BBQ or, even better, NY bagels piled with cream cheese or butter) and not run out of things to talk about. We have a common ground in our children, their early beginnings and our struggles. It seems we both have a passion for educating people about pre-term infants and everything that it entails, during the NICU and after.
You know what the best thing about this is, though? My words made someone feel better. I never know if reaching out to someone is going to be well received, especially when her daughter was born much earlier than my son. Yet it did and, to me, that's better than any (not) mention in a book.
Wednesday, July 23, 2014
The Rain in Spain: Day Five
The first two days of Adam's business trip were okay. My in-laws took the older two for the weekend and the little boys and I were just hanging out, having fun. My mom arrived on day three (Monday) and, oh holy heck, thank goodness for Grams!
Mom arrived in time for dinner Monday night and we watched The Lightening Thief. She liked it but agreed that it is nothing like the book and is reason number three why Chris Columbus should not be near a children's book to movie adaption. (Reasons one and two? The Sorcerer's Stone and Chamber of Secrets.) It was another late night for all of us.
On Tuesday, George was a grouch. This kid would have reduced Oscar the Grouch to tears. He would not cooperate at speech. He fought with kids at the pool because, "He splashed [friend]."
"[Friend] hasn't been to the pool in weeks!"
"I know! But HE SPLASHED MY FRIEND!"
"George, how long do you plan to hold a grudge?" asked Grams.
"I hold grudge for twenty years!"
Okay then.
We thought George and Cole would crash and burn early that night. When we got home, Mom took the younger two up for a bath and the older two cleaned out the trash cans for me. I got dinner made. I swear, that was the fastest and easiest evening chores had EVER gotten done!
Mom took the older two kids to TKD and I tried to get the younger boys to bed. The word here is tried. For a four and five year old who had been up until ten for three nights, they sure didn't act tired. They flopped around. They whined. They complained. They used the potty three times in 45 minutes. Cole finally fell asleep at 8:30... and George began screaming.
When he was toddler, he was the worst child in the world to get to sleep*. We had to walk him in the stroller (screaming), drive him in the car (screaming)... you get the idea. Now, we can cuddle him in our bed and he sleeps until the morning. (We move him to his own bed.) But last night? Oh no. If you had walked by our house you would have thought we were beating him with a cattle prod, pulling out his teeth AND beheading his beloved stuffed peguin. We were doing nothing like that, of course; we were simply trying to get him to sleep. But no! He needed to pee, he needed a snack, he hated me, he hated Grams... and then he locked himself in the bathroom.
About that time, Mom took over and I went downstairs to eat the ice cream she brought home. It was either that or pull out my toenails with a butter knife. That would have been more pleasurable! Joseph and Camille weren't asleep either, due to the screaming, so I banished them to their rooms because whining, "He's too loud and I can't sleep!" were so, so helpful. Or not.
Around ten thirty (yes, 10:30 pm... and all this fun had been going on since 7:30!) everything was quiet. I went up to his room... and found Mom sitting on the floor, reading on her tablet and George at the foot of his bed, glaring at his door. Mom gave me a thumbs down and George grouched at me. By now, he was in love with me again and wanted to cuddle with me in my bed. I wanted to go to sleep (or drink) so I said yes.
He was asleep within fifteen minutes.
Mom and I weren't sure what got into this kid. His head was practically spinning and I was ready to break out the Holy Water. I vowed to get to Whole Foods and get some melatonin for him for the next night, come hell or high water or screaming five year olds.
Yet today he was oddly... pleasant. He behaved at Joe's appointment, ate a decent lunch at Panera, put up with a trip to Pottery Barn Kids and went to the splash pad... where he swam, by himself, without a life jacket or noodle!
Let's say this again: My kid, with anxiety and a motor planning disorder who would only enter the pool last year with a noodle and life jacket, SWAM BY HIMSELF!!!!! I MUST ABUSE EXCLAMATION POINTS!!!!!!!!!
I've been working with him on and off this summer. He had just begun swimming a little on his own, without a flotation device. He would got a few feet and then panic and put his feet down. I told Adam that if he would stop freaking out and would put his chin down, he would be able to swim the short way of our pool.
At the splash pad, Cole was "alligator swimming" around the shallow end, lifting his arms to paddle a few feet before stopping. He was also jumping in alone! Not to be outdone, George took off his life jacket and tried to "alligator swim." Mom helped him kick properly and get his bottom up in the air. And he took off!
I mean, OFF!!!! We were there two hours and by the end of the afternoon, he had mastered the lilly pads (you walk across floating "pads" holding onto ropes above your head) and was swimming all over the pool. He would push off the bottom of the pool and paddle around. He had the biggest smile on his face and was so confident and happy!
Mom and I wondered if he needed to have a snit fit last night to have the huge developmental leap today. Being able to swim independently is a huge motor mild stone and one he has been working at all summer.It makes sense; babies often have trouble sleeping before a developmental leap. That said, we could have done without the three hours of screaming, thanks.
To celebrate (and because we wanted too!) we made s'more tonight. We scarfed half a bag of marshmallows and two bars of chocolate. Hey, there are six of us!
Thanks to that huge developmental leap, a big dinner, two hours swimming and four late nights (and, yeah, melatonin), George was asleep by eight-thirty. The older two went to bed at nine and Cole was out by eight. It's not even ten pm now and Mom and I are both in bed, reading or writing, and exhausted! Tomorrow brings another busy day and, hopefully, peace and quiet!
*Thank you, CAS. Everything I've read said that kids with CAS are hard to get to sleep and, basically, the tips to help them sleep amount to "good luck with that."
Mom arrived in time for dinner Monday night and we watched The Lightening Thief. She liked it but agreed that it is nothing like the book and is reason number three why Chris Columbus should not be near a children's book to movie adaption. (Reasons one and two? The Sorcerer's Stone and Chamber of Secrets.) It was another late night for all of us.
On Tuesday, George was a grouch. This kid would have reduced Oscar the Grouch to tears. He would not cooperate at speech. He fought with kids at the pool because, "He splashed [friend]."
"[Friend] hasn't been to the pool in weeks!"
"I know! But HE SPLASHED MY FRIEND!"
"George, how long do you plan to hold a grudge?" asked Grams.
"I hold grudge for twenty years!"
Okay then.
We thought George and Cole would crash and burn early that night. When we got home, Mom took the younger two up for a bath and the older two cleaned out the trash cans for me. I got dinner made. I swear, that was the fastest and easiest evening chores had EVER gotten done!
Mom took the older two kids to TKD and I tried to get the younger boys to bed. The word here is tried. For a four and five year old who had been up until ten for three nights, they sure didn't act tired. They flopped around. They whined. They complained. They used the potty three times in 45 minutes. Cole finally fell asleep at 8:30... and George began screaming.
When he was toddler, he was the worst child in the world to get to sleep*. We had to walk him in the stroller (screaming), drive him in the car (screaming)... you get the idea. Now, we can cuddle him in our bed and he sleeps until the morning. (We move him to his own bed.) But last night? Oh no. If you had walked by our house you would have thought we were beating him with a cattle prod, pulling out his teeth AND beheading his beloved stuffed peguin. We were doing nothing like that, of course; we were simply trying to get him to sleep. But no! He needed to pee, he needed a snack, he hated me, he hated Grams... and then he locked himself in the bathroom.
About that time, Mom took over and I went downstairs to eat the ice cream she brought home. It was either that or pull out my toenails with a butter knife. That would have been more pleasurable! Joseph and Camille weren't asleep either, due to the screaming, so I banished them to their rooms because whining, "He's too loud and I can't sleep!" were so, so helpful. Or not.
Around ten thirty (yes, 10:30 pm... and all this fun had been going on since 7:30!) everything was quiet. I went up to his room... and found Mom sitting on the floor, reading on her tablet and George at the foot of his bed, glaring at his door. Mom gave me a thumbs down and George grouched at me. By now, he was in love with me again and wanted to cuddle with me in my bed. I wanted to go to sleep (or drink) so I said yes.
He was asleep within fifteen minutes.
Mom and I weren't sure what got into this kid. His head was practically spinning and I was ready to break out the Holy Water. I vowed to get to Whole Foods and get some melatonin for him for the next night, come hell or high water or screaming five year olds.
Yet today he was oddly... pleasant. He behaved at Joe's appointment, ate a decent lunch at Panera, put up with a trip to Pottery Barn Kids and went to the splash pad... where he swam, by himself, without a life jacket or noodle!
Let's say this again: My kid, with anxiety and a motor planning disorder who would only enter the pool last year with a noodle and life jacket, SWAM BY HIMSELF!!!!! I MUST ABUSE EXCLAMATION POINTS!!!!!!!!!
I've been working with him on and off this summer. He had just begun swimming a little on his own, without a flotation device. He would got a few feet and then panic and put his feet down. I told Adam that if he would stop freaking out and would put his chin down, he would be able to swim the short way of our pool.
At the splash pad, Cole was "alligator swimming" around the shallow end, lifting his arms to paddle a few feet before stopping. He was also jumping in alone! Not to be outdone, George took off his life jacket and tried to "alligator swim." Mom helped him kick properly and get his bottom up in the air. And he took off!
I mean, OFF!!!! We were there two hours and by the end of the afternoon, he had mastered the lilly pads (you walk across floating "pads" holding onto ropes above your head) and was swimming all over the pool. He would push off the bottom of the pool and paddle around. He had the biggest smile on his face and was so confident and happy!
Mom and I wondered if he needed to have a snit fit last night to have the huge developmental leap today. Being able to swim independently is a huge motor mild stone and one he has been working at all summer.It makes sense; babies often have trouble sleeping before a developmental leap. That said, we could have done without the three hours of screaming, thanks.
To celebrate (and because we wanted too!) we made s'more tonight. We scarfed half a bag of marshmallows and two bars of chocolate. Hey, there are six of us!
Thanks to that huge developmental leap, a big dinner, two hours swimming and four late nights (and, yeah, melatonin), George was asleep by eight-thirty. The older two went to bed at nine and Cole was out by eight. It's not even ten pm now and Mom and I are both in bed, reading or writing, and exhausted! Tomorrow brings another busy day and, hopefully, peace and quiet!
*Thank you, CAS. Everything I've read said that kids with CAS are hard to get to sleep and, basically, the tips to help them sleep amount to "good luck with that."
Thursday, May 29, 2014
Peace and Quiet
As a final gift to me before the summer insanity starts, both boys are in preschool at the same time. They have a kiddie concert today, which means both AM and PM are attending school at the same time.
YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS?! All FOUR of my kids are in school AT THE SAME TIME.
I am sitting in my kitchen. It's not even ten thirty and I have:
swept and vacuumed the kitchen
vacuumed the whole downstairs
took a script into the drug store
had coffee
had breakfast
hung a load of laundry out to dry
and now I am writing and there's still enough time to take stuff to the basement, fold another load and maybe even vacuum the bedrooms!
My life is so exciting... but I can do all this knowing that no one is going to fight with someone, spill something on the computer, destroy the living room or whatever.
PEACE AND QUIET, BABY.
YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS?! All FOUR of my kids are in school AT THE SAME TIME.
I am sitting in my kitchen. It's not even ten thirty and I have:
swept and vacuumed the kitchen
vacuumed the whole downstairs
took a script into the drug store
had coffee
had breakfast
hung a load of laundry out to dry
and now I am writing and there's still enough time to take stuff to the basement, fold another load and maybe even vacuum the bedrooms!
My life is so exciting... but I can do all this knowing that no one is going to fight with someone, spill something on the computer, destroy the living room or whatever.
PEACE AND QUIET, BABY.
Friday, May 23, 2014
Quick Takes Friday: Summer is almost here
1. George had his preschool graduation this week. Adam and I are so not "graduation ceremonies for ALL THE GRADES" type people but this one is special for George. He's leaving the safety of the preschool where he has been for three years for the wilds of kindergarten. I know and trust and adore the kindergarten teachers but... sniff.
When I think back to where he was and where he is now... wow. At his first program for preschool (Christmas 2011) he sat there and refused to sing. He wouldn't do the hand movements. He cried when I came. This time, he sang with his class, talked out of turn, danced and had a great time. In short, he acted like a ... normal?... five year old. Whoa.
2. If I thought April was a busy month for us, it has nothing on May. There are end of the year forms to fill out, fees to pay. I need to make sure everyone is enrolled for school in the fall. I'm checking shoes and buying sneakers. (Thank you, Zulily, for having the one thing I can't get as hand-me-downs for cheap!) The kids are signed up for various camps and I need to pay for VBS. Oh, and do I have end of the year teacher gifts? (No. No I do not.)
3. Cole: Mommy, I want pop-scile.
Me: You can have a Popsicle after school, buddy.
Cole: But my school over!
He had a point and his school was indeed over for the day... so he got a Popsicle.
4. Adam and I went to a baseball game Tuesday. His work provided free tickets, loaded with x amount of money for food. I go to games for the food and to hang out with Adam. I also refuse to go during the summer. I like baseball well enough but not enough to sit in hot stands and swelter. We had nachos and hamburgers and all sorts of goodies. A nice man who was in town for a conference sat behind us and we talked about kids, IEPs, the difference between where we live and Southern accents. The guy lives in the one place where we would move to if Adam changed jobs within his field. I really hope he wasn't put in our lives because God is planning for us to move!
5. The kids have a three day weekend and then 3.5 days of school. No, it doesn't make sense.
6. I am looking forward to the long weekend. We're getting into a good swing around here. Adam has some car and yard work to do. We're headed to a friends house for dinner one night. It reminded me that we may be able to try and entertain again. We like to have friends over but the kids have prevented that. Maybe I have the guts to try?
7. Let's Surf, shall we?
10 Things Moms of Boys Must Do- Read this if you have a male in your life. It's awesome and so true!
As Long as It's Healthy...- Let's not make health a condition of loving someone. I would also like to add that just because you have a baby without any additional needs at birth doesn't mean it will stay that way. It's a fallible world. Kids get sick, they get cancer, they have delays and disorders. I don't love my kids any less because they have additional needs. Would you? No? Then why your fetus?
What is Apraxia and Why Should You Care?- One of the best articles I have read on CAS.
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
It's the end of an era (as we know it)
During Mass last week, Cole was being a twerp and I ended up taking him to the cry room. It was filled with toddlers in diapers, digging through snack traps and binkies hitting the floor. In short, it was a cry room... and I realized we didn't belong there anymore. We are at a different phase in our life.
I think many parents go through this and various points in their parenting journey. You wake up one day and realize that you are done with a certain phase in your life- breastfeeding, toddlers, preschool, elementary school. The most noticeable is probably when children go off to college and parents struggle with the empty nest but there are phases before that... and we are in one now.
George is entering his last week of preschool. I am not a "graduations for every little mildstone!" person but this is kinda big for him. I sent a non-verbal, anxious 2 year old to them in the fall of 2010 and received a confident chatterbox in return. The school has worked hard with my little boy. Thankfully, the special needs preschool is attached to the elementary school, so they will see him next year too. But I'm loosing a preschooler and getting an elementary boy in return.
Next year will make the last year I have all four children in one school. Joseph will be in the fifth grade and moving to junior high. It blows my mind. First, how is he old enough? Second, how am I old enough? I'm a bit in awe that he will have been in the same school since kindergarten. As a military brat, I never had that. I wouldn't change my up bringing for the world but there's something to be said for having the same close group of friends for the first 10-11 years of your life.
Diapers are gone. Sippy cups are a thing of the past. Instead we have clets and TKD belt littering the floor, and children who leave cups around the computer. Laundry is filled with towels and stinky gear from baseball, not clothes with spit up. Instead of watching Mickey Mouse, I talk about poltical systems, compare the Greek underworld to Heaven, Hell and Purgatory. They drink coffee (or, er, coffee flavored milk) and the whole boy/girl thing is slowly creeping on their radar.
When Joseph and Camille were four (four and two and four and six), Star Wars, Doctor Who and tweeny stuff weren't on their radar. They are the oldest and they set the tone for alot of things including, to a degree, what their siblings are interested in. That's not to say that Cole and George are "too mature" for their ages. It's just that they have older siblings who chat about stuff other four year olds might not know about. (I doubt many of them go into preschool grumping that they "had" to watch Percy Jackson...)
Instead of dealing with nap time and nursing, I have mood swings, hormones, preschool phases, friendship up and downs and summer camp. I also have epic conversations, jokes that aren't about poop, deep thoughts, and homework beyond colors and shapes. Like many things in life, parenting is fluid and ever-changing and the way our family looks is changing too. Yep, there are things I miss about our baby days but I also wouldn't change this parenting phase for anything.
I think many parents go through this and various points in their parenting journey. You wake up one day and realize that you are done with a certain phase in your life- breastfeeding, toddlers, preschool, elementary school. The most noticeable is probably when children go off to college and parents struggle with the empty nest but there are phases before that... and we are in one now.
George is entering his last week of preschool. I am not a "graduations for every little mildstone!" person but this is kinda big for him. I sent a non-verbal, anxious 2 year old to them in the fall of 2010 and received a confident chatterbox in return. The school has worked hard with my little boy. Thankfully, the special needs preschool is attached to the elementary school, so they will see him next year too. But I'm loosing a preschooler and getting an elementary boy in return.
Next year will make the last year I have all four children in one school. Joseph will be in the fifth grade and moving to junior high. It blows my mind. First, how is he old enough? Second, how am I old enough? I'm a bit in awe that he will have been in the same school since kindergarten. As a military brat, I never had that. I wouldn't change my up bringing for the world but there's something to be said for having the same close group of friends for the first 10-11 years of your life.
Diapers are gone. Sippy cups are a thing of the past. Instead we have clets and TKD belt littering the floor, and children who leave cups around the computer. Laundry is filled with towels and stinky gear from baseball, not clothes with spit up. Instead of watching Mickey Mouse, I talk about poltical systems, compare the Greek underworld to Heaven, Hell and Purgatory. They drink coffee (or, er, coffee flavored milk) and the whole boy/girl thing is slowly creeping on their radar.
When Joseph and Camille were four (four and two and four and six), Star Wars, Doctor Who and tweeny stuff weren't on their radar. They are the oldest and they set the tone for alot of things including, to a degree, what their siblings are interested in. That's not to say that Cole and George are "too mature" for their ages. It's just that they have older siblings who chat about stuff other four year olds might not know about. (I doubt many of them go into preschool grumping that they "had" to watch Percy Jackson...)
Instead of dealing with nap time and nursing, I have mood swings, hormones, preschool phases, friendship up and downs and summer camp. I also have epic conversations, jokes that aren't about poop, deep thoughts, and homework beyond colors and shapes. Like many things in life, parenting is fluid and ever-changing and the way our family looks is changing too. Yep, there are things I miss about our baby days but I also wouldn't change this parenting phase for anything.
Monday, May 19, 2014
Have them close together, they said...
... it will be hard on you but so good for them, they said!
Groans.
Okay, no, that's NOT why we had our children close together. That was our choice, and God's. But (thankfully!) alot of people told us how awesome it was to have kids close together and how it might be hard on us but good for the kids.
They were totally right. We love having the kids close in age. There are so many benefits to it. But one drawback? As soon as one is out of a stage, the other one is in it!
Last year, George was going through an "I hate you" phase. It was (not) lovely. Shortly after that, he went through the "I love you" phase, which produced the, "I love you Mommy. Cami, don't you just love , Mommy?" gem.
Now Cole is going through the four year old "emo/goth" phase. He's whining, complaining and generally hates life. Everything is stupid, he hates it, he doesn't like it or NO. I joke that one day, he's going to come down the stairs wearing black eye liner, combat boots and reciting dark, bad poetry. I remember Joe going through this phase, and George last year, so it's not new... just annoying.
Joe's hormonal tween phase is in a lull, and Cami is phasing in. Adam is considering a transfer to Asia until she's 18, married or in a convent.
I jest. He is too... I think.
Well, parenting is an adventure... and defiantly not for the faint of heart or decaffeinated.
Groans.
Okay, no, that's NOT why we had our children close together. That was our choice, and God's. But (thankfully!) alot of people told us how awesome it was to have kids close together and how it might be hard on us but good for the kids.
They were totally right. We love having the kids close in age. There are so many benefits to it. But one drawback? As soon as one is out of a stage, the other one is in it!
Last year, George was going through an "I hate you" phase. It was (not) lovely. Shortly after that, he went through the "I love you" phase, which produced the, "I love you Mommy. Cami, don't you just love , Mommy?" gem.
Now Cole is going through the four year old "emo/goth" phase. He's whining, complaining and generally hates life. Everything is stupid, he hates it, he doesn't like it or NO. I joke that one day, he's going to come down the stairs wearing black eye liner, combat boots and reciting dark, bad poetry. I remember Joe going through this phase, and George last year, so it's not new... just annoying.
Joe's hormonal tween phase is in a lull, and Cami is phasing in. Adam is considering a transfer to Asia until she's 18, married or in a convent.
I jest. He is too... I think.
Well, parenting is an adventure... and defiantly not for the faint of heart or decaffeinated.
Monday, May 12, 2014
No longer a "baby family"
This weekend Adam and the kids took me out to dinner. Although I thought about going someplace different, I picked The Cheesecake Factory because I knew we would all enjoy the food and, hello, cheesecake!
While we had dinner, it dawned on me that we can do this now- we can take the kids out to dinner and expect AND GET decent behavior out of them. Sure, there was some shoving and some rude burping (ugh! tween boys!) and some of this:
but everyone sat, ate and had a good time. There were bathroom runs, but no diaper changes. There was no baby food, no nursing, no dropped food. I got to eat my meal while it was cold (a salad) and shared my cheesecake with a very awed and very serious four year old.
Cole: Mommy, we eat dat? Mommy, we share dat?
Me: Yes, Bear, we'll share that!
I failed to convince Adam to drop me at the bookstore while he took the kids grocery shopping but we still had a pleasant time. Cole unleashed his Light Saber in Trader Joe's, which lead to me taking it until we got to the car. (Even Jedi Knights answer to their moms.) When we got home, I bathed the kids while Adam cleaned up the kitchen and put away groceries.
This is first summer in fully "big kid" mode. No one naps on a regular basis. The last of the cloth diapers went to a co-worker of Adam's. I'm sorting through baby toys and 3t clothes for a garage sale. The little slide, tunnel and sand box are going to a teacher friend for her grandkids. We have one stroller for long trips and even the cheap umbrella strollers are gone. When I took Cole into the cry room during Mass, I realized we don't belong in there. Everyone else had bottles, binkies and diapers. We no longer need any of those.
I know I should moan that I miss it- and I do, to a degree. But I am also excited about this phase of life.
Joseph and Camille took part in their first tournament this weekend and did very well. I can see Camille wishing to join the "forms" team some day. I got to take George and Cole to baseball practice and was so impressed to see them paying attention, listening to instructions and trying so hard. For two boys with plenty of challenges, they blended right into the team and loved it. I'm looking forward to their adorable games this summer!
I know if we were blessed with another baby, I would love an embrace that child. I am confident in my baby-caring skills and would whip out the cloth diapers, nursing bras and swaddling blankets with no second thoughts. But this phase- the phase where we read Percy Jackson together, talk about serious things, have friends over for sleep overs and where Mommy can sleep in a touch, knowing they can get their own cereal- is pretty wonderful and amazing too.
This Mother's Day, I have the gift of knowing we are entering the next phase in parenting, the big kid phase. It's pretty cool.
While we had dinner, it dawned on me that we can do this now- we can take the kids out to dinner and expect AND GET decent behavior out of them. Sure, there was some shoving and some rude burping (ugh! tween boys!) and some of this:
Cole: Mommy, we eat dat? Mommy, we share dat?
Me: Yes, Bear, we'll share that!
I failed to convince Adam to drop me at the bookstore while he took the kids grocery shopping but we still had a pleasant time. Cole unleashed his Light Saber in Trader Joe's, which lead to me taking it until we got to the car. (Even Jedi Knights answer to their moms.) When we got home, I bathed the kids while Adam cleaned up the kitchen and put away groceries.
This is first summer in fully "big kid" mode. No one naps on a regular basis. The last of the cloth diapers went to a co-worker of Adam's. I'm sorting through baby toys and 3t clothes for a garage sale. The little slide, tunnel and sand box are going to a teacher friend for her grandkids. We have one stroller for long trips and even the cheap umbrella strollers are gone. When I took Cole into the cry room during Mass, I realized we don't belong in there. Everyone else had bottles, binkies and diapers. We no longer need any of those.
I know I should moan that I miss it- and I do, to a degree. But I am also excited about this phase of life.
I know if we were blessed with another baby, I would love an embrace that child. I am confident in my baby-caring skills and would whip out the cloth diapers, nursing bras and swaddling blankets with no second thoughts. But this phase- the phase where we read Percy Jackson together, talk about serious things, have friends over for sleep overs and where Mommy can sleep in a touch, knowing they can get their own cereal- is pretty wonderful and amazing too.
This Mother's Day, I have the gift of knowing we are entering the next phase in parenting, the big kid phase. It's pretty cool.
Sunday, April 20, 2014
He has risen!
April 20th also marks our 12th anniversary. This year, Adam got new shelves for the garage and fixed the fence. Yup, newlyweds, it won't always be roses and wine but hey, the outside of the house looks good!
Have a "hoppy" day!
Wednesday, April 9, 2014
Hold Me
I had a doctor's appointment on Cole's birthday and I told him that if he was well behaved, I would get him a "blue water" (blue coconut slush) from Sonic. He was and so I did. Since I can't get just one kid something, I got everyone ma drink.
I couldn't remember Camille's favorite flavor so I got her a lemonade. Apparently, she does NOT like lemonade and wanted an orange drink. I apologized and offered to get her a different flavor when I was out at Sonic again. She was plenty mad and wanted me to get her a new one RIGHT THEN. I refused.
She stomped off to her room and then stomped back downstairs. She complained the birds were singing too loudly and too happily. I offered her a taste of Cole's birthday cake, since I had carved off part of the top to make hills. She accepted... and then proceeded to eat crushed oreo cookies with a spoon while reading the Justice catalog.
Within five minutes of this, she was her cheerful self and I had whiplash.
If this is what it is like at eight, I need to stock up on chocolate and wine now to prepare for the teenage years!
I couldn't remember Camille's favorite flavor so I got her a lemonade. Apparently, she does NOT like lemonade and wanted an orange drink. I apologized and offered to get her a different flavor when I was out at Sonic again. She was plenty mad and wanted me to get her a new one RIGHT THEN. I refused.
She stomped off to her room and then stomped back downstairs. She complained the birds were singing too loudly and too happily. I offered her a taste of Cole's birthday cake, since I had carved off part of the top to make hills. She accepted... and then proceeded to eat crushed oreo cookies with a spoon while reading the Justice catalog.
Within five minutes of this, she was her cheerful self and I had whiplash.
If this is what it is like at eight, I need to stock up on chocolate and wine now to prepare for the teenage years!
Monday, March 24, 2014
Natural Parents Network: We Call Our Daughter Princess...
And I am Okay with that!
How the Princess got her nickname and why, in spite of negative comments over calling girls a "princess," I am okay with that!
How the Princess got her nickname and why, in spite of negative comments over calling girls a "princess," I am okay with that!
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
Late to the Lent Party?
Late to the Lenten party and not sure what your family is going to give up or do? Check out my post from last year, 25 Activities Families Can Do During Lent.
If I won't see you until Easter Sunday, have a blessed and holy Lent.
If I won't see you until Easter Sunday, have a blessed and holy Lent.
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
Hoops
My daughter Camille is in second grade and as every second grade Catholic child knows, this means one thing: it's her First Communion year! All year in religious ed, Camille has been studying, learning and preparing for her First Holy Communion and her First Reconciliation. She received her FR in December and, from what Adam tells me, she did a wonderful job. (He watched her from outside the Confessional; he could see but not hear her.) In May, she will receive her FHC.
As part of the sacrament prep, parents are required to attend two meetings: one for FR and the other for FHC. At each meeting, we get information about what to expect, tips and tricks to help prepare our child at home, information on Mass time and retreats. Father usually gives a little chat about the sacraments. They are short, to the point and generally worth my time. I have zero complaints about these meetings. Except....
I could make the last one.
We had two times for FHC parent meetings. We had an emergency and I couldn't make them. I asked our DRE for the information and she said that Father was offering a make up meeting. Fair enough. However, that make up meeting was when Adam was out of town!
I e-mailed several people in charge, as I wasn't sure who to talk to, and explained the situation. I pointed out that my kids have excellent CCD attendance, we attend Mass on Sundays and Holy Days and take the children to Reconciliation frequently. I mean, it's not like I am some Joe-smo off the streets who doesn't care and only makes her kids attend during sacrament years. Stuff happened and I couldn't make the meetings.
Oh no. Father wants a private meeting with all the parents who missed the parent meetings.
Head, meet desk.
To some degree, I get it. I do. He wants to make sure the parents are prepared, active and take their children's faith formation seriously. No problem. But when a parishioner you know emails you personally and explains the situation... why can't you have the packet waiting at the front desk? Why the hoops? Seriously, some flexibility here... and why does this one happy thing have to be so difficult?!
I did include in my e-mail that if they wish to withhold the sacrament based on me being unable to attend a parent meeting, to let me know so I can have her receive elsewhere. No, that is not an idle threat. I do have friends who teacher FHC prep to kids through the CGS program and would be happy to take Camille. While she wants to receive with her class and friends, and I want her to have that experience, receiving the sacrament is more important than pomp and bling.
Sigh. I'll keep the blog-o-sphere updated with that happens but until then, just keep your fingers crossed that I get some answers... and the packet of information!
As part of the sacrament prep, parents are required to attend two meetings: one for FR and the other for FHC. At each meeting, we get information about what to expect, tips and tricks to help prepare our child at home, information on Mass time and retreats. Father usually gives a little chat about the sacraments. They are short, to the point and generally worth my time. I have zero complaints about these meetings. Except....
I could make the last one.
We had two times for FHC parent meetings. We had an emergency and I couldn't make them. I asked our DRE for the information and she said that Father was offering a make up meeting. Fair enough. However, that make up meeting was when Adam was out of town!
I e-mailed several people in charge, as I wasn't sure who to talk to, and explained the situation. I pointed out that my kids have excellent CCD attendance, we attend Mass on Sundays and Holy Days and take the children to Reconciliation frequently. I mean, it's not like I am some Joe-smo off the streets who doesn't care and only makes her kids attend during sacrament years. Stuff happened and I couldn't make the meetings.
Oh no. Father wants a private meeting with all the parents who missed the parent meetings.
Head, meet desk.
To some degree, I get it. I do. He wants to make sure the parents are prepared, active and take their children's faith formation seriously. No problem. But when a parishioner you know emails you personally and explains the situation... why can't you have the packet waiting at the front desk? Why the hoops? Seriously, some flexibility here... and why does this one happy thing have to be so difficult?!
I did include in my e-mail that if they wish to withhold the sacrament based on me being unable to attend a parent meeting, to let me know so I can have her receive elsewhere. No, that is not an idle threat. I do have friends who teacher FHC prep to kids through the CGS program and would be happy to take Camille. While she wants to receive with her class and friends, and I want her to have that experience, receiving the sacrament is more important than pomp and bling.
Sigh. I'll keep the blog-o-sphere updated with that happens but until then, just keep your fingers crossed that I get some answers... and the packet of information!
Monday, February 24, 2014
Name that Baby!
No, this is not an announcement. Rather, Kathryn over at Team Whitaker is hosting a baby name link up. I decided to join in the fun and post how we got our kids' names. Be warned- we are VERY boring when it comes to baby names and you're likely going to figure out a pattern after the first two!
Like most first born children, naming Joseph was fairly easy. We both like the name, which is important! We both had grandfathers named Joseph, called Joe. It is Adam's father's middle name and the name of my paternal uncle. My uncle took the name Andrew as his Confirmation name and, thus, middle name and went by Joseph Andrew. My father is named Andrew and my brother and brother-in-law have "Andrew" as a middle name. We like it, it sounds good together and, double bonus, our grandmothers love the name.
I never wanted Joseph to be called Joey which meant, of course, that my brother-in-law called him that as a toddler. Now he'll tell anyone that his name is Joe. He responds to Joseph or Joe and doesn't like Joey at all. (Thank you, God!) When I asked him why he started going by Joe, he said it was because it is easier to spell than Joseph! Ha! Stinker.
Random useless fact: He was almost named George. It was my birthday when I found out I was pregnant and Adam's other grandfather called me. When Adam asked if we wanted to name the baby George,I said, "No this baby is a Joseph." And he is!
You would think that Camille, the first girl, would be easy to name. No. Adam insisted she was a boy until the u/s showed otherwise. I knew I wanted her middle name to be Julia, the same middle name my grandmother had. (I didn't like the sound of her first name with his last name.)
I wanted to name her Charlotte Julia but Adam said no. After going around and around, I finally said, "Fine! Her middle name is Julia, find a first name that goes with it!" A few days later, he looked at me and said, "What about Cami, as a nickname for Camille?" I liked it and agreed... and two week later, he told me it was inspired by the name of a bad guy in a James Bond movie.
Ah, the George. George was always our second boy name. It's the name of Adam's maternal grandfather, a man I love. (I joked that if Grandpa were 50 years younger, I would marry him!) We actually asked his permission to name the baby George, because we knew some people don't like their names. He had no problem with it and so George was George.
His middle name, David, was a bit harder to come by. We tossed both David and Robert around but I thought George Robert sounded too much like a 1950's TV dad. I really wanted a Christmas-y middle name, as George was due Christmas Eve. I didn't like Nicholas or Gabriel though. I kept coming back to David, the name of Adam's uncle who died shortly before we were married.
One day, I had the realization that David IS a Christmas name- Jesus is from the House of David. BAM! Christmas name and a family name in one! Done!
Adam swore he would NOT be called Georgie Pordgie but all the NICU nurses called him that. He was Georgie PuddinPie from the beginning!
It's a good thing Cole is a boy, because if we had had a girl, she would still be unnamed. Actually, Cole was "supposed" to be a Henry, after my uncle Hank. However, he just didn't feel like a Henry. One day, I was chatting with a friend about some genealogy information Grandpa had sent us. In it, he told us that a relative on his mother's side had come from Ireland with a friend, who was a priest. The relative had a SuperLongIrish last name but he changed it to "Cole" the same name as the priest, so they could pass for brothers and enter America easily.
"You know what would be a great name?" my friend said. "Cole Robert!"
DONE.
We later found out that Grandpa was named for his grandfather, whose last name was Cole. In that small way, both little boys are named for Grandpa. (Least Joe be left out, he was born on their anniversary!) Robert is the name of several (many) men on my mother's side of the family. So, yes, we broke out "little old man" naming streak and gave our youngest son a more modern name, but it is still a traditional, family name like the rest of them.
More useless trivia: We thought about Robert Cole and calling him Robbie but he's not a Robbie! However, Colbert is pronounced "ColeBear" which is what we call him. (Get it? Col-bert? Cole Robert?)
And if we have any more?
I love the name Gianna, and the saint. I am insisting if we had a second daughter, she would be named Gianna. As a bonus, it keeps up with the naming pattern: JCGC. (JKJK sounds) I also want a Maximilian after Saint Maximilian Kolbe. However, given our penchant for producing kids with speech disorders, the speech therapists have made me promise not to do that! Henry is still on my list, after my uncle, and I like the name Anthony too. We shall see... and having Number Five is not even on my radar so I am not too worried!
I never wanted Joseph to be called Joey which meant, of course, that my brother-in-law called him that as a toddler. Now he'll tell anyone that his name is Joe. He responds to Joseph or Joe and doesn't like Joey at all. (Thank you, God!) When I asked him why he started going by Joe, he said it was because it is easier to spell than Joseph! Ha! Stinker.
Random useless fact: He was almost named George. It was my birthday when I found out I was pregnant and Adam's other grandfather called me. When Adam asked if we wanted to name the baby George,I said, "No this baby is a Joseph." And he is!
I wanted to name her Charlotte Julia but Adam said no. After going around and around, I finally said, "Fine! Her middle name is Julia, find a first name that goes with it!" A few days later, he looked at me and said, "What about Cami, as a nickname for Camille?" I liked it and agreed... and two week later, he told me it was inspired by the name of a bad guy in a James Bond movie.
His middle name, David, was a bit harder to come by. We tossed both David and Robert around but I thought George Robert sounded too much like a 1950's TV dad. I really wanted a Christmas-y middle name, as George was due Christmas Eve. I didn't like Nicholas or Gabriel though. I kept coming back to David, the name of Adam's uncle who died shortly before we were married.
One day, I had the realization that David IS a Christmas name- Jesus is from the House of David. BAM! Christmas name and a family name in one! Done!
Adam swore he would NOT be called Georgie Pordgie but all the NICU nurses called him that. He was Georgie PuddinPie from the beginning!
"You know what would be a great name?" my friend said. "Cole Robert!"
DONE.
We later found out that Grandpa was named for his grandfather, whose last name was Cole. In that small way, both little boys are named for Grandpa. (Least Joe be left out, he was born on their anniversary!) Robert is the name of several (many) men on my mother's side of the family. So, yes, we broke out "little old man" naming streak and gave our youngest son a more modern name, but it is still a traditional, family name like the rest of them.
More useless trivia: We thought about Robert Cole and calling him Robbie but he's not a Robbie! However, Colbert is pronounced "ColeBear" which is what we call him. (Get it? Col-bert? Cole Robert?)
And if we have any more?
I love the name Gianna, and the saint. I am insisting if we had a second daughter, she would be named Gianna. As a bonus, it keeps up with the naming pattern: JCGC. (JKJK sounds) I also want a Maximilian after Saint Maximilian Kolbe. However, given our penchant for producing kids with speech disorders, the speech therapists have made me promise not to do that! Henry is still on my list, after my uncle, and I like the name Anthony too. We shall see... and having Number Five is not even on my radar so I am not too worried!
Thursday, February 20, 2014
Tired
I once joked that when all the children finally began sleeping through the night, I would be going through menopause or they would be dating... and I never would get any sleep anyway!
I was so right.
Not about the menopause or dating thing but about the sleep. I was hoping that now that the little boys are older (three and a half and five) they would begin sleeping through the night. But no. They are up several times a night and climb into bed with us. I don't mind the waking to some degree because they are mostly night trained and wake up to use the potty. Except...
Cole then turns on all the lights, thinking it is morning and tries to play.
He then climbs in bed with us and tosses and turns like an agitated crocodile until he falls asleep again.
George joins us.
They both hog the bed.
Cole has had a nasty cough and was up frequently. I spent several nights sleeping with him upright in the recliner.
All this, coupled with them falling asleep and power napping at 3 pm, not wanting to go to bed at a normal time, makes for one tired mama!
Yawn. Where's the coffee?
I was so right.
Not about the menopause or dating thing but about the sleep. I was hoping that now that the little boys are older (three and a half and five) they would begin sleeping through the night. But no. They are up several times a night and climb into bed with us. I don't mind the waking to some degree because they are mostly night trained and wake up to use the potty. Except...
Cole then turns on all the lights, thinking it is morning and tries to play.
He then climbs in bed with us and tosses and turns like an agitated crocodile until he falls asleep again.
George joins us.
They both hog the bed.
Cole has had a nasty cough and was up frequently. I spent several nights sleeping with him upright in the recliner.
All this, coupled with them falling asleep and power napping at 3 pm, not wanting to go to bed at a normal time, makes for one tired mama!
Yawn. Where's the coffee?
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
Wordless Wednesday: Lovies
Two of my kids are over on the Natural Parents Network showing off their lovies. Check out the cuteness!
Monday, February 17, 2014
Don't Take it Personally, but I Hate You
Don't take it personally, but I hate you.
Maybe hate is too strong of a word but.... naw, hate about does it.
I hate that you have a perfectly clean house, with a husband and children who help keep it clean. I hate that your closest are organized, you aren't fighting a minefield of toy cars on the stairs and your darling children keep their rooms clean.
I hate that you have the perfect 2.5 children, a lovely dog that doesn't shed or drool or eat food off the counter.
I hate that you have it all together.
I hate the 20 page e-mails you send after every class party, detailing every.single.thing that went on. (Let's face it- who has time to read that?) I hate that you think the only punctuation that belongs at the end of a sentence is an exclamation point. Of course, your life is so perfect and everything that happens is so wonderful that the only punctuation for your life is an exclamation point.
I hate that you can teacher CCD, be the room mother, be the Girl Scout leader and head up the PTO without blinking an eye.
I hate that you look on my family with a mixture of pity and scorn, wondering why I cannot do the same. You say, "Oh, I could never have four children!" but at the same time, you think that yes, you could and you would do a much better job at it than I do.
I hate that you never had to worry for a moment about your child's development. You can spend money on lessons and classes, not tutoring and therapy. Conferences aren't veiled hints that your child needs testing and an IEP. In fact, you barely have to go to them, knowing that your kid is doing just fine, thank you very much.
You aren't exhausted at the end of the day, trying to understand what your three and a half year old wants.
You don't spend hours every week talking to specialists, sitting in at therapy, trying to make heads or tails out of the alphabet soup that is your child.
You don't have to plan your vacations around sensory needs. In fact, you can take vacations, since you have money.
You can go to the gym, take a class for yourself and have a girls night out without worrying that the money you are spending will mean your child won't get therapy one week or a bill won't get paid.
I hate that you have never sat in a therapist's office, crying your eyes out, wondering what you did wrong that made your baby have special needs. I hate that you've never railed against God doing this to your child, your family. I hate that you've never questioned, never wondered never thought that you're being punished for some cosmic sin.
Don't take it personally that I hate you... because I really envy you.
Maybe hate is too strong of a word but.... naw, hate about does it.
I hate that you have a perfectly clean house, with a husband and children who help keep it clean. I hate that your closest are organized, you aren't fighting a minefield of toy cars on the stairs and your darling children keep their rooms clean.
I hate that you have the perfect 2.5 children, a lovely dog that doesn't shed or drool or eat food off the counter.
I hate that you have it all together.
I hate the 20 page e-mails you send after every class party, detailing every.single.thing that went on. (Let's face it- who has time to read that?) I hate that you think the only punctuation that belongs at the end of a sentence is an exclamation point. Of course, your life is so perfect and everything that happens is so wonderful that the only punctuation for your life is an exclamation point.
I hate that you can teacher CCD, be the room mother, be the Girl Scout leader and head up the PTO without blinking an eye.
I hate that you look on my family with a mixture of pity and scorn, wondering why I cannot do the same. You say, "Oh, I could never have four children!" but at the same time, you think that yes, you could and you would do a much better job at it than I do.
I hate that you never had to worry for a moment about your child's development. You can spend money on lessons and classes, not tutoring and therapy. Conferences aren't veiled hints that your child needs testing and an IEP. In fact, you barely have to go to them, knowing that your kid is doing just fine, thank you very much.
You aren't exhausted at the end of the day, trying to understand what your three and a half year old wants.
You don't spend hours every week talking to specialists, sitting in at therapy, trying to make heads or tails out of the alphabet soup that is your child.
You don't have to plan your vacations around sensory needs. In fact, you can take vacations, since you have money.
You can go to the gym, take a class for yourself and have a girls night out without worrying that the money you are spending will mean your child won't get therapy one week or a bill won't get paid.
I hate that you have never sat in a therapist's office, crying your eyes out, wondering what you did wrong that made your baby have special needs. I hate that you've never railed against God doing this to your child, your family. I hate that you've never questioned, never wondered never thought that you're being punished for some cosmic sin.
Don't take it personally that I hate you... because I really envy you.
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Wordless Wednesday at NPN
Get a sneak peak at my daughter's covered wagon project on NPN!
(Every year, the second grade students create a covered wagon out of whatever materials they like and then write up the steps they used to create the project. I love this project and seeing what the other students have made is so fun! Obviously, they don't have to historically accurate!
And, yes, I know it is Thursday.)
(Every year, the second grade students create a covered wagon out of whatever materials they like and then write up the steps they used to create the project. I love this project and seeing what the other students have made is so fun! Obviously, they don't have to historically accurate!
And, yes, I know it is Thursday.)
Monday, January 20, 2014
Apraxia vs the rest of the world
My sister and her sons came to visit this weekend. My nephews are 4 and 2 and perfectly normal little boys- if more adorable, smarter and generally awesome-er than the rest of the kids their age. (I hear they take after their aunt, cough, cough. :)) When they come, they say hello to me and then we see all the kids when they want to be fed. In short, they disappear to play and we get to chat!
At dinner time, I would ask all the kids what they want to eat. My littles respond in one word phrases because a) I'm lazy and have been slacking on making them say things like "more milk please" and b) at the end of the day talking and eating can be too much. They reserve those cheek muscles for chewing. Anyway, my boys will say "milk!" and get milk, so my nephews said the same thing. I went to get them all milk and my sister said, "Wait! Boys, how do you ask nicely?" and both boys responded, "I would like some milk, please."
In my mind I was thinking, "Holy smokes, are these kids some kind of verbal geniuses?" (I think the correct answer is, "yes" but anyway.) In the next minute, I remember that her boys do not have Apraxia and thus can speak in complete and coherent sentences that people can understand over 90 per cent of the time. I looked at my sister and said, "Sorry. I'm so used to kids who can't speak that I forget what to expect from kids who CAN." She laughed.
When Joseph and Camille were little, I didn't video record much. We have a video recorder (you know, before smart phones did everything) but I didn't use it much. What I do have I don't know how to get on my computer... well, I lack the time to find all the cords, plug it in and do it. I have my phone now with video of George talking but I'm not really one who records everything. I write down what they said but I don't really remember much of it. I mean, I remember but... I've been in Apraxia Land for so long, this is my normal. Most of the parents I hang out with have kids with special needs, so their children talk like my boys.
It actually didn't make me sad to hear my nephews talk without problems. In fact, I think it was good for George and Cole to hang out with them. They need more NT role models and more people who accept them just as they are, without reservations.
Speaking of the "Rest of the world" food issues are going to heck in a handbasket around here. When George gets overwhelmed or over tired, we see it. One night we were having dinner. It was pork, which he generally likes but meat is hard for him to chew. There was a sauce on it and sauce is the debil- or it is, on days when he is overtired, over-talked and Not in the Mood. I served him a very small portion of the pork, which he ate. Yay! Then he said he didn't like it and wanted PB bread. Our rule for him is that he has to try it and then may have a simple, alternate dinner after a grown up has eaten. In short, try it and if you don't like it Mommy will make you PB bread but only after Mommy has had a chance to sit down and eat something.
This went over like a dead duck. He was not amused that he had to wait and voiced that he did not like dinner and loudly. Table manners aside this can be normal for him. At least he tried it, which is huge but he needs to work on eating a normal amount of normal food. And when days are really bad, the non-preferred food can't even be on the same plate as his other food. UGH.
The good news is that his SLP's office is moving! They will have a new office in a new location and be able to offer their feeding therapies groups! We briefly talked about how feeding therapy would work and it looks like it won't cost us any more than we are paying now! One day would be straight speech and the next would be speech/feeding. Woohoo! They don't move until the spring, so we have some time to work out details but.... HOPE that feeding hell will end this year!
At dinner time, I would ask all the kids what they want to eat. My littles respond in one word phrases because a) I'm lazy and have been slacking on making them say things like "more milk please" and b) at the end of the day talking and eating can be too much. They reserve those cheek muscles for chewing. Anyway, my boys will say "milk!" and get milk, so my nephews said the same thing. I went to get them all milk and my sister said, "Wait! Boys, how do you ask nicely?" and both boys responded, "I would like some milk, please."
In my mind I was thinking, "Holy smokes, are these kids some kind of verbal geniuses?" (I think the correct answer is, "yes" but anyway.) In the next minute, I remember that her boys do not have Apraxia and thus can speak in complete and coherent sentences that people can understand over 90 per cent of the time. I looked at my sister and said, "Sorry. I'm so used to kids who can't speak that I forget what to expect from kids who CAN." She laughed.
When Joseph and Camille were little, I didn't video record much. We have a video recorder (you know, before smart phones did everything) but I didn't use it much. What I do have I don't know how to get on my computer... well, I lack the time to find all the cords, plug it in and do it. I have my phone now with video of George talking but I'm not really one who records everything. I write down what they said but I don't really remember much of it. I mean, I remember but... I've been in Apraxia Land for so long, this is my normal. Most of the parents I hang out with have kids with special needs, so their children talk like my boys.
It actually didn't make me sad to hear my nephews talk without problems. In fact, I think it was good for George and Cole to hang out with them. They need more NT role models and more people who accept them just as they are, without reservations.
Speaking of the "Rest of the world" food issues are going to heck in a handbasket around here. When George gets overwhelmed or over tired, we see it. One night we were having dinner. It was pork, which he generally likes but meat is hard for him to chew. There was a sauce on it and sauce is the debil- or it is, on days when he is overtired, over-talked and Not in the Mood. I served him a very small portion of the pork, which he ate. Yay! Then he said he didn't like it and wanted PB bread. Our rule for him is that he has to try it and then may have a simple, alternate dinner after a grown up has eaten. In short, try it and if you don't like it Mommy will make you PB bread but only after Mommy has had a chance to sit down and eat something.
This went over like a dead duck. He was not amused that he had to wait and voiced that he did not like dinner and loudly. Table manners aside this can be normal for him. At least he tried it, which is huge but he needs to work on eating a normal amount of normal food. And when days are really bad, the non-preferred food can't even be on the same plate as his other food. UGH.
The good news is that his SLP's office is moving! They will have a new office in a new location and be able to offer their feeding therapies groups! We briefly talked about how feeding therapy would work and it looks like it won't cost us any more than we are paying now! One day would be straight speech and the next would be speech/feeding. Woohoo! They don't move until the spring, so we have some time to work out details but.... HOPE that feeding hell will end this year!
Friday, January 10, 2014
Quick Takes Friday: Well, that's a start!
It's been a crazy start to 2014 but a GOOD crazy start!
1.
Last night, the phone rang as I was putting Cole to bed. Adam answered and it was Thirty-One, the direct sales company I work for. I've been promoted to Senior Consultant! That means that I have several people below me, they've all qualified (sold a certain amount) and are active. I still have to sell x amount of product in a certain time period but I get overrides. Go me! Go my team!
2.
Cole and George are refusing haircuts. REFUSING. Nothing will convince them to let me trim it, including, "If you don't cut your hair, we will have to wash it more often and put gel in it." Nope. The other day, Cole's curls were looking especially adorable and he was being onery. We've decided that his hair is like Samson's: it's his adorableness and keep us from selling him to the zoo!
3.
I finally got my watch fixed. FINALLY. After a year. Not complaining; I love it!
4.
Camille's 8th birthday is coming up. Eight. Holy moly, she's getting big! The "loose tooth" thing has slowed down and she now has more teeth IN her head than OUT. Her hair is getting long and her sense of style is... Camille. We're planning her birthday party this weekend. She wants a snowman themed party and I spill all the details shortly!
5.
My oldest has been giving us grief about homework lately. His teacher and I are working with him on it. I don't think he realizes that life would be so much simpler if he just did his work in school!
6.
I went to the post office before Christmas and have been dragging my feet about going back ever since then. Mailing packages is my least favorite activity ever! I think all post offices are located in the most inconvenient spots and strive to have the worst parking. They have less employees manning the desk than Wal-Mart during the post-school rush. It's so frustrating!
7.
The kids have only missed one day of school this week. My friends a few hours away haven't had school at all this week! I imagine they are going insane!
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