Blissfully Exhausting

Wow, holy blog neglect.  Whoops.

Short synopsis of the last three months: Me= job is going awesome, in the best shape of my life, sleeping well, mentally balanced.  Dan= business picking up, enjoying being stay at home Dad a couple of days a week. Aidan= perfect transition into a new school, rockin' out on guitar, making new friends.  Rowan = ups and downs but forward progress, still enjoying Lynnie's and speech at SRC, currently downstairs with a friend who is over for a playdate and they are loudly discussing farts.  So, in other words, Life is Good.

Rowan went through a pretty rough summer, followed by what felt like a week of relief, followed by another downswing.  Every time this happens, the longer it lasts, the darker things feel.  There are periods where I feel like we all go to that dark place:  Dan and I are short with each other, my patience is limited, I feel like Aidan isn't getting what he needs from us, and it feels like living with an overly sensitive grizzly bear.  The light at the end of the tunnel is that we know it's usually a sign that he is working through something. Whether it is regulating his hearing sensitivity, using words, asking questions, answering questions...it is like the sun shining extra brightly when he finally works his way through the latest neurological battle.  My friend, Erin put it really well: he's downloading.

This last week, the darkness has lifted and the sun is indeed shining brightly again it seems.  The thing I've noticed this time is that Rowan has been craving my attention.  The last few months, he has been working at getting my attention in awful ways: screaming, causing trouble on purpose, pushing buttons, making noises, saying inappropriate things.  No matter what consequence we threw at him, he was relentless.  It was draining.  This week, however, something shifted.  He is still craving my attention, but in such an APPROPRIATE way.  I think I have heard, "Mamma, look at me" 1,289,752 times in the last three days, 1,278,997 of those today while Christmas shopping.  And with it, these really deep five year old questions.  And I mean, enough of them to make up for about a year's worth of lost time.  "What does a sigh mean?"  "Do skeletons live inside your body?  Can they live outside your body?"  "Does God live at church?" "Why? Why? Why?" And today, in the bookstore/toystore, as I got called over to look at him or something he wanted me to see that million and a quarter times, I got a raised eyebrow from the clerk.  I wanted to run over, shake her by the shoulders and yell, "I KNOW!!  Isn't he GREAT???  LISTEN to that BEAUTIFUL sound of actual, real, appropriate attention getting measures being used by my son.  Don't you LOVE IT????!!!!!"  Then I would dance a polka.  I restrained myself though, and gave her a big smile and gave in to the requests of my amazing, beautiful, smart and inquisitive son.

Kickin' It

I had to share some photos of Rowan's soccer experience.  Yes, I said soccer.  An organized, TEAM sport, where he had to listen to his coach and work with his peers.  I came up with the idea last spring, my husband thought I was crazy, Rowan's preschool teacher thought I was a genius.  I went with the opinion of the person who had more experience (sorry, honey.) 
I am happy to say it was not a disaster.  While Rowan was not the strongest player on his team, he generally listened to the coach and interacted with his peers. Though I don't think the coach ever heard him say a single word in two months.   His playing was funny.  He just stood there the first game, until I encouraged him a little more, then he started to get in there.  One game he actually kicked the ball TEN whole times.  The next game he got spooked by some aggressive players and then for the rest of the season became very crafty at running away from the ball while somehow making it look like he was running with the group.  It was hilarious.
My favorite moment, however, was during the first game.  He'd had one practice, and we had drilled it in to his head: no hands, no hands, no hands.  At one point during the game, the ball went out of bounds.  The coach chose Rowan to throw it back in.  Rowan just stared at him, unresponsive.  The coach waited a minute, then chose another kid.  A couple of minutes later, Rowan ran over to me and whispered, "He wanted me to touch the ball with my hands!"  So...yeah, we had to review that one exception.

Proud brother, looking on

Kicking.  Not at the ball, but kicking anyway.

Running fast!

I am so proud of my little guy!

Well-lived

Well, it's that time of year again.

Summer is turning its back on me, fast-walking away, I am running after it with my arms outstretched, yelling, "Noooooooooo!"  I keep glancing over my shoulder at the New School Year Anxiety, which is  in turn chasing me.

I always get very "nesty" this time of year.  I have to stay busy, get my space in order, or I will start to think too much.  Yesterday afternoon was one of those days.  Yes, I was getting ready for Aidan's birthday party, but once those preparations were done I couldn't stop.  I cleaned that one corner in the porch.  I organized the downstairs freezer (zucchini from 2006, anyone?).  I made refrigerator pickles.  I cleaned out the car.  Finally, as I ran out of tasks, I jumped on my bike.  Just me and the Lakewalk, no one else, no destination in mind.

I tooled along on this pleasant PDD (Perfect Duluth Day) when suddenly my bike, seemingly by its own accord, pulled over to the side of the pathway.  I found myself staring down at a little secluded beach I'd never noticed before.  The water, crystal clear and almost Caribbean blue, was calling me.  There was a footpath down.

Next thing I knew, I was floating on my back in Lake Superior in my underwear.  How long had it been since I did something so spontaneous, on my own like that?  I suppressed a scream of glee.

Instead, I reflected on a summer well lived.  Wow, was this summer good to me.  The combination of having no real scheduled job and the amazing weather created a perfect storm of living in the moment goodness.  Every morning I woke up and felt the potential for a new adventure.  I lived it fully.  Anxiety about the new school year aside, I know I am going into the year in a really good place in my head.  My tank is full, I am re-energized, and mostly I am full of gratitude for the gift of this lovely, lovely summer.

I started out this summer with a list.  Did I complete it all?  No.  Do I regret it?  Not a chance.  Sewing projects?  Too beautiful outside.  Visit every playground in Duluth?  Not even close, but I have a new definition of playground that includes Park Point, French River and a perfect evening in the backyard with the neighbors and their kids.  I did so many unexpected things that weren't on the list, including a midnight hay ride at a wedding, tubing behind a boat with Edison friends and even working a fun little summer job.

 Here are my favorite pics from this summer:

Pontooning with Boppa

One of many fish caught this summer

Morning cuteness

The Flood

More Flood

Rhubarbra

French River

Sign cake

Bravery on wheels

Indian Lake

Frog catcher

Summerblue

Happy campers

Harry Potter around the campfire

Aboard the Vista

Agent P

Not pictured:  Fourth of July with the DeWitt-Websters, above mentioned hay ride, many days at the beach/river, making jam, the lush garden, time spent with Corryn & Carrie, the satisfied look on my face after each day.

Rowan is Five!

Well, we made it to five!  Those seasoned moms always say, "Enjoy it while you can, time moves fast!"  God, that is SO true, especially with the second child.
I posted on facebook that Rowan has been one of my greatest teachers in life, and that I love him so much for his passion, giggles, sensitivity, silliness, hugs, sense of humor and imagination.  As much as he has provided challenges, I would never trade him for the world, and I know the things that give him his challenging quirks are what give him his awesome, funny, cute and amazing quirks.
Nothing else to say but post a bunch of birthday pics.

Rowan surprised us by taking on the French River rope swing on his birthday.

We decided to start a tradition of letting the boys pick a restaurant to go to on their birthday.
That is how I ended up at McDonald's.

Rowan knew he wanted birthday cake flavored ice cream at the new ice cream shop by our house.  I should have gone to the gym twice on this day.

Rowan opens the coveted fan snowplow he's been asking for since January.

Trying out his new boat in the backyard.

Sign cake

The LVM crew

The water blob

Happy birthday, Rowie Bear!

Labels

A couple of people have expressed concern about us moving forward with getting a diagnosis for Rowan, worried about having a label attached to him.

I worried about this myself for the longest time, which I think is why we have waited so long.  It is obvious to me that the "wait and see" period that was proposed by the two previous experts has passed, Rowan still is exhibiting some red flags, and we are standing in the middle of a crucial period of his development.

The first lucky thing is that Rowan has a summer birthday, so we have some bought time.  I can't even imagine Rowan being ready for kindergarten this fall.  He can't sit still, his emotional maturity has a long way to go, his social development is still developing, he can't and won't hold a pencil.  Luckily, he has one more year to figure out who he is and sort out how he fits into the world.  We have a year of opportunity to get him the help he needs for him to be ready for kindergarten when he does go.  A friend of mine, who has a child with autism, said, "Get the diagnosis and wield it like a weapon!" in response to a pretty unresponsive school district we were dealing with.  We still decided to wait and see.  Here is what I am afraid will happen now if we continue with with wait and see:

-Rowan will never learn how to appropriately ask another child to play.

-Rowan will not learn how to regulate his emotions and have temper tantrums (which have included violence lately) into his school age years.

-Rowan will continue to struggle with handwriting and fine motor activities, making school more frustrating.

-He will continue to invade other people's spaces, yell in their faces, make weird noises and push their buttons.

-Rowan will not develop longstanding friendships

-Rowan's teachers will not understand him

Here's what it comes down to:  if WE don't give him the label and get him the help he needs right now (continued speech/language therapy, occupational therapy, perhaps some counseling for his mom and dad), this behavior will continue into his school years.  Then it will be the KIDS who give him the labels:  That weird kid who doesn't know how to play with us.  That scary kid who freaks out and throws and hits.  The kid who has no friends.

I will do anything it takes right now to stop that from happening.  So I am.

Break On Through To The Other Side

I'll admit it, I want my little boy back.

I have endurance for a lot of things, but my emotional endurance is shot.  I finally shed some tears over Rowan's last regression last night, and unloaded the negative feelings, the guilt, the helplessness and the depression all over my husband.  Of course, he was, as always, an awesome listener and reminded me that I am not on this path alone.

I am making copies of every assessment ever done on the kid and bringing them to his well child visit next month.  I am asking for a referral.  I am looking for an official diagnosis.

Maybe they will label him with autism, maybe not.  I know he is "atypical."  But he is an atypical atypical kid.  He doesn't fit all the criteria for autism, but there are some red flags there.  I just know I want some help and reprieve from whatever monster this is that keeps stealing my child away from me every few months.  Just when we think we are through the worst of it, and I have watched him have what seems like an amazing breakthrough, it returns.  It's like riding a glorious wave and then finding yourself on a polluted beach when you reach the shore.  All that hard work to paddle out there, and yes, the ride was great, but what?  We're back here again?  How did that happen?  And every time he has a regression it's like he is slipping away from me.  Not only is he behaving negatively but he is clearly turning inward.  I can't figure out who he is.  I can't get close.  Hell, I can't even be fun because I am too busy playing drill sergeant and keeping him in line.

Oh, but I see glimpses.  Those impish flirty looks of those blue eyes and that delightful giggle of his.  The cute questions he asks. The HILARIOUS things he says.  The amazingly imaginative stories he tells me.  His huge capacity to give and receive love.  I know he is still there and will be back.  That is the little guy I want to see thrive.  I want more happy Rowie and less angry Rowie.

If you are reading this, I am asking that you say a prayer for our family, and for Rowan.  Pray that we can find strength to get through this tough spot, and that he can work through whatever he is stuck on.  Pray that as we embark on a journey to get a diagnosis, that we can be open minded and accepting, and that we will remember that a label will not take away the delightfulness of who he is, but will open the doors to getting him some help.

Gratitude to you.

Black and White/The Summer Bucket List

"Fool me once, shame on you.  Fool me twice, shame on me."

I fell for it again.  Rowan came out of his last backslide so beautifully that I convinced myself it wasn't going to happen again.  He is regressing with a vengeance right now. 

Regressions are hard.

Welcome back, fighting, biting, kicking, punching and screaming.  Just in time to help usher in summer.

Luckily, I recently discovered my Towanda, (avenger of all evil.)  It started with a group of sixth graders.  I just wasn't going to take their shit anymore.  I got angry, I avenged, it felt good and now I feel unstoppable.  Rowan picked a baaaaadddd time to get defiant.  I will avenge any evil this child throws at me.

One thing that has become increasingly clear over the last few weeks is that I need to take away all shades of gray.  Everything has become black and white.  Rowan is clearly looking to see where the boundaries are right now, and I am drawing them as clearly as I can.  Where I normally pick my battles, I have made everything a battle.  Say no to me?  I don't think so.  Growl at me?  Uh-UH!  Do something right after I told you not to?  Look out.  Whine?  No way.  I have become the Royal Queen Bitch in this house.  It IS possible to take EVERY toy away, did you know that?  I am amazed at how I have disentangled my emotions from this situation and so clearly can see how it needs to be done.  Exhausting?  Yes...but not as exhausting as letting him run the show.  Painful?  A little bit, but I got my eyes on the prize this time.  I will not raise a jerkface.  And since I have started this little plan, I notice Rowan still wakes up every morning and loves me.  

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Let's get away from the negative and focus on the good things ahead.  I survived my first year at my new job, full time and with promise of full time next year.  The last day of school felt surreal.  I normally feel grief and sadness...this is the first time I know I am coming back to the same kids.  It was a challenging year in many ways, but I am ending on a very high note, already excited for next year.  And I am SO damn lucky.  (Oh, and did I mention it's my first REAL summer off?)

So without further ado, this year's Summer Bucket List (with help from Aidan):

1. Visit every playground in Duluth
2. Sleep in the backyard
3. Movies in the park
4. Lemonade stand
5. Fishing at Hartley
6. Camping, camping and more camping
7. Pirate exhibit at the Science Museum in St. Paul
8. Teach Aidan to snorkel
9. French River and lunch and the Scenic
10. State Fair
11. Pick strawberries
12. Pick blueberries
13. Make jam
14. Make pickles
15. Ride bikes to get ice cream
16. Teach Rowan to ride the bike tagalong
17. Make homemade ice cream the old fashioned way
18. Stay and swim at the Edge
19. Timber Twister
20. Have Lynnie over for dinner
21. Lots of pontoon rides

And my personal additions:

1. Keep the garden weed free
2. Host two kickass birthday parties
3. Deep clean and organize every room in the house, including the basement
4. Make enough aprons, bags and skirts to sell somewhere.
5. Catch up with old friends.
6. Stop sleeping in: seize each day.

My hope is that by posting these here, I will stay on top of the list, and hopefully post our adventures here!

The Underwear Incident

Last weekend, we took our annual trip to Ely to visit some friends, stay in a "gotel," and go swimming.

Saturday morning, we proceeded to start the usual routine of repacking things as Rowan unpacks them, scrambling to find everything and then realizing the Kids are Hungry Again right before we walk out the door.  Among the chaos of the morning, I remembered that Aidan is still in the middle of his anti-hygiene phase, particularly when it comes to his underwear.  Asking him to change it is like asking him to do some impossible, horrible task.  Many times he has lied when I've asked him "Did you change your underwear?" so now I do a check.  I make him pull the waistband of his pants down, note the color, send him upstairs, and note the color again when he comes back down.  Oh, the strange things we do as parents...  Anyway, I did the usual waistband check, he passed, and I sent him on his way.

We did finally make it to Ely, and excitement exploded as we reached the hotel room.  The Jump from Bed to Bed game commenced.  I announced, "Who wants to go swimming???" and suddenly there was more excitement. It was like two small tornadoes spinning around the room with clothes flying out of them as they rushed to get into their swimsuits.  I followed the tornadoes, picking up the debris, but something strange struck me as I picked up Aidan's pants and underwear, which had come off in one piece.  I realized that my son had not been wearing one, but TWO pairs of underwear.  He was too lazy to change them, so knowing he needed to pass the waistband check, he simply put the new pair over the old pair.  


My children: smart, funny, independent, creative.  You just can't make this stuff up, can you?

Blunder at the Lord's Table

Happy Easter!

I hope your day was inspiring, filled with loved ones and good reflection.  I also hope you didn't have to spend any of it hiding in a corner of your brother's church basement, wanting to die from embarrassment.  I did.

First let's preface this with two funny Rowan "overheards."

Rowan and I were staying with my brother Jeff's family, and attending church with them. (Dan and Aidan are on a road trip.)   One very moving component of the service was that there was a largish cross passed through the congregation.  Rowan was transfixed, and asking a million questions.  "What is it?"  "A cross?"  "What are they doing?"  "Passing it around."  "What letter is it?"

The next funny thing to happen was that Rowan leaned forward, and, inches away from a strange woman's face sitting the row in front of him, blew a large raspberry.  My mom, who was sitting with him, pulled him back and apologized to the poor woman.  Rowan, defensive, loudly exclaimed, "But I was trying to get the boogies out of my nose!!!"  Seconds later, "Oooh, I got one!"  The best part was looking down the row and seeing all the shoulders shaking with laughter. (Mostly my family, but I noticed the woman was laughing too.)

I can't even believe that I am writing about this, I am so embarrassed, but the way my husband laughed when I told him this story tells me it will entertain you.

I panicked when, halfway through the service, I realized they were serving communion.  It was the go-to-the-front-of-the-church kind, which we don't usually do at our church (or maybe we do, we rarely go anymore...read above for explanation.)  As we stood up to go, I went over and over in my mind how I was going to prepare Rowan, tell him what to do, not take too much, etc.  Also, I have been sleep deprived, nursing the last dregs of a bad cold, so in my defense not thinking clearly.  We got up to the front, I got my bread and shoved it in my mouth so I could focus on Rowan.  He sweetly put out his little cupped hands to receive the bread.  We got to the wine, I absentmindedly grabbed the cup out of the pastor's hand and took a sip as a little voice in my brain screamed, "What are you doing?  Intinction! you're supposed to dip your bread in!  Oh my God (sorry) now my cold germs are all over that cup, the pastor is looking at me like I am crazy, please can I shrivel up and die now?"  As my horror washed over me, Rowan grabbed the grape juice cup which the pastor had held out, and followed my lead, except he took several great swigs and then refused to relinquish the cup.  A short tugging match, and we booked it down to the basement where I hid, until Rowan would no longer let me.

I am glad my God is a forgiving God.  I hope the good folks at Grace Lutheran are too.

Overheard #6

Me: You did such a great job sitting at the dinner table last night!

Rowan: Did we get to have poxicles (Popsicles) after dinner?

Me: We sure did, lucky guy.

Rowan: Was it cold? *shivers, remembering*

Me: Yes, they were cold.

Rowan: We should call them poxicolds.

Teaching Your Child the Fine Art of Poetry

Aidan recently asked me if I know how to write poems. I dabbled in it a bit in high school/early college, but it never was my thing. I do remember writing Haikus and enjoying that. I explained the whole 5,7,5 syllable thing to him, and we came up with a few simple ones. Tonight, we wrote two masterpieces:

A leprechaun came.
He peed green in our potty.
It smelled like shamrocks.

I have underwear.
I wear it under my pants.
It is not a hat.

I Made Your Kid Cry Today...or Helping You To Not Raise a Jerkface

I made your kid cry today.

I might do it again.  I do not apologize for my actions.  I am sorry he was sad, but I am not sorry I followed through with my disciplinary action.

Let me explain myself.

Last night I had this dream, probably one of the worst ones of my life.  My little son, Rowan, was coming out of his Occupational Therapy session.  He and the OT walked toward me (well, he trotted, because that's what he does) and there was another woman with them.  I inquired who it was, and the OT informed me that it was the foster mom Rowan would be going home with.  He could no longer live with me.  I woke up, sobbing, my pillow and face wet.  He had climbed into bed with me, and I squooshed him REALLY hard.

What does this have to do with your crying child?

I KNOW that the raw feeling in that dream, that intense love, is a bond I share with all parents.  I KNOW that every parent is hopelessly in love with their child.  They are the cutest, smartest, most clever, etc.   Our common fear is losing them somehow, such a terrible thought to bear.  I sometimes find that it is important to remember that someone loves this child with that intensity in times when my, your, or other children are driving me nuts.  (My trick for remembering:  look at their eyelashes.  I don't know why that works, but it does.  Because, eyelashes.)

You would think that the eyelash/memory of strong love bond business would soften my resolve, but no, it doesn't. I think it toughens it.  Here's the thing that I think so many parents are missing right now:  it is OKAY to say NO.  It is okay to break their spirit once in a while (believe me, it will be back, more quickly than you think.)  It is okay to hold back on giving them everything they ask for.  It is okay if they cry or even get mad at you (gasp!)  I might ruffle a few feathers in the "natural parenting" crowd I mingle with, but   PARENTS:  be the adult!

I helped him by letting him cry today.  I probably helped you too.  You should try it.  Over time, your child might grow up to be:

• Considerate
• One who thinks of others before himself
• Aware of the value of hard work
• Knowing the value of making mistakes, and forgiving others for theirs
• One who does not text under the table at dinner
• Willing to share
• Willing to listen to the ideas of others
• Polite
• A loving, unselfish partner in a relationship
• A coworker who is respected for his integrity
• A person who never cuts anyone off in traffic, or shows road rage.
• Patient
• Someone who doesn't interrupt others while they are talking
• Accountablity

It is BECAUSE of that intense love that we should offer our kids the things they will need to be adults who are not selfish jerks, something as a teacher I am honestly afraid of for the generation I am teaching.  And those things are easy:  No, because I said so, that is not safe, I am talking to an adult right now you may not interrupt, you may come back to dinner when you have settled down, you may come back and play when you've said you're sorry, you're grounded, no treat tonight, I am sorry that all your other friends have that toy but if you want it you will have to earn your own money to buy it, no you don't need a cell phone, your cell phone will be taken away for a week because you were texting at the table/at school after I/your teacher told you to put it away, what is up with these grades, I stand by your teacher, you may not talk to me that way, you screwed up admit it now learn from it.  Boundaries.  Rules.  They don't come naturally to kids, they just don't.  Trust me, I am a teacher.  I know.  And really, does anyone want their child to grow up to be a jerkface?

My little son Rowan is easy to coddle with his own set of special needs and challenges.  It is harder to say no, harder not to go down the easy road.  It is something I struggle with every day, and beat myself up for my shortcomings (source of dream?)  I try to remember that because he has these extra challenges I have all the more reason to establish the boundaries.  He (and we) just have to work harder at it.  I will never let his special needs be his (or my) excuse.  And it will pay off.

One Year

Happy Birthday, Blog!

All right, I know I am a couple of weeks late, but if it makes you feel any better, I am one of the worst people I know about remembering and acknowledging birthdays.

You've seen me through some tough times, blog.  Thanks for that.  It's been so nice to have a place to go to vent creatively and productively.  And at least when I am having a hard time dealing with stuff, I can write something poignant about it.  And then I look back and realize on some level, I was dealing well with stuff, I just wasn't conscious about it.

Anyway, looking forward to another nice year, hopefully with fewer sad posts.  I will try to spend more time with you.

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Updates:

This guy continues to amaze me.  Playing guitar, picking up songs more quickly than you could ever imagine.  Today, at a birthday party, he picked up some weird Finnish string instrument and was tinkering with it.  He stood up and pulled a pick out of his pocket.  I realized he just ALWAYS carries a pick in his pocket.  I don't know why, but that made me SO happy.  What a cool dude.  He has successfully entered what my friend Jane refers to as the anti-hygiene phase.  The other day I walked past his room only to realize he was on day 4-5 of the same underwear.  Gross.  Summer should be fun.  And smelly.  He is starting to get used to the idea of changing schools.  I am not, but will get there.

And I couldn't be more proud of this guy.  Still making great strides.  He is in the throes of the four year old constant question phase, with the recent introduction of "why."  I know it's a great sign and his inquisitiveness is a sign of his intelligence, but holy cow it is exhausting.  But he reminded me today that I need to be patient.  I'd had enough of about 20 minutes of constant questions and said, "Rowan, no more questions for a while, Mommy needs a break."  He replied, "But I want to TALK!"  Sniff, sorry little buddy, carry on with your questions.  The other day he LIED to Lynnie.  She reminded me how wonderfully developmentally appropriate that is.  Plus, we found out he's a really bad liar.  Like his dad. That's good, he'll get away with less later on.  He is still having speech at SRC (love, love love!) and is now seeing an OT and doing a great job there.  It is fun to see him be a little more himself every day.

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Ode

I've wanted to write a post about our Lynnie, Rowan's preschool teacher for a while now, but sometimes you can't find the right words to express such profound gratitude.

Like the gratitude you feel when you are calling around to preschools, explaining your child's "condition" and she is the only one who 1.) knows what it is and 2.) seems genuinely excited about having him.

Or the gratitude you feel when you realize how she sees him:  as the beautiful boy that he is, with gifts of his own and lots of love to give.  NOT as a problem to solve.

Or the gratitude you feel when she observes things in your child you didn't even notice yourself, or at least couldn't put into words.  And how she ever so gently, but firmly at the same time PUSHES him outside his comfort zone. And you watch how she lovingly, respectfully redirects.  You take notes.  You try it at home.  It works.

Or the gratitude you feel when you realize you no longer dread asking the question, "How was his day?"  And the answer doesn't  include reports of him hiding, avoiding the other kids, or sitting on the steps and whimpering all day.

Or just the gratitude of that AWESOME laugh, sense of humor and insight. It has turned this weary teacher's bad day around many times.

No words, really.  But I do have a picture.  It's a photo of the top of Rowan's Sensory Processing Measure for his new Occupational Therapist.  Lynn filled out the school portion.  She could've just filled out "preschool teacher" on the relationship line.  But she didn't.  I glanced at it and an involuntary happy sob escaped from my throat.  Thanks, Lynnie.  We love you too. (Sorry if I made you cry...it's not that hard to do, you know.  And you started it.)

Seize This

Today, I lazily copy this link into this post, not because I am lazy, but because these are my exact thoughts and I couldn't have said it better.

My favorite quote:  " I can't even carpe fifteen minutes in a row, so a whole diem is out of the question."

Please read, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

Don't Carpe Diem

The Moment We've All Been Waiting For

Life seems normal.

That might sound boring to most people, but it is extraordinary to me and my family.

Normal is what we've been striving for.

I feel like I woke up sometime in the last two months with this weird feeling, like, "Huh...that's weird...I don't feel frantic."

There is no doubt that Rowan has made a HUGE leap since Thanksgiving, on so many levels.  His language has become more conversational and expressive, he shows empathy and caring for others, he not only notices the other kids, but he wants to engage with them and follows along with their play.  He has become the boy we always knew was there: witty, sensitive, imaginative, caring and full of kisses and mischief.  He plays nicely with his brother, and they are totally IN LOVE with each other (or nearly killing each other, like most brothers do.)  Conflicts that do arise sure seem like typical four year old battles: whining, manners, sharing, using a bossy voice.  Lashing out violently, like he did about 9 months ago, isn't even on the radar.  His preschool teacher, Lynnie, said that watching him in the month of December was like "watching a flower bloom."

Sure, I know, as always, that there are still hills to climb ahead.  I know there will regressions and backsliding and all that nonsense, but I can't help but feel that many of the huge hurdles are behind us, and we will never have to leap them again.  We are still seeing the speech pathologist, and signed on for OT starting next month.  We are not checking him out of The Most Awesome Preschool in the World any time soon.  I'm no dummy.  I know why we're here.  It's because this stuff is working!

And so....I welcome you, uninterrupted conversation with my husband, giggles from the boys as they play together in another room.  Hello, visits to restaurants and relatives houses.  Good day to you, grocery store checkout line. Church...., um...ah, well...we'll get there.  Good evening, little boy who is upset with me because he is worried I got shampoo in his brother's eyes.  Good morning, kisses and hugs (oh...the BEST kisses and hugs.)  Hola, play date.  Real play date.  Where my kid plays.  With the other kid.

Blessed be. And Amen.