Halloween

For the record, I understand and absolutely respect the values of many of my peers who shy away from Halloween activities on Sunday.

But Dave was reading someone's blog this week. She said something interesting that may have just changed how I feel about the topic. She is a non-member who loves the gospel and is married to a member...

She said... Jesus said suffer the little children to come unto me. Halloween is the one day a year when we have children, of all ages, knocking on our doors. She said, "What would Jesus Do?" He would welcome them. He would bring his very best candy, so that they would know and remember his home, and want to return.

I have a teenage LDS neighbor who hasn't knocked on my door in years. I miss her. I was delighted for her to knock on my door again. Imagine her surprise when she was greeted with a bowl full of the coolest (nostalgic packaging as if from the 30s) full sized candy bars. "Oh, Wow!!!," she said. "Here, you can have another one too. " ("She's my favorite." I told her friend. ) Any opportunity to let her know that she is both loved and welcomed in our home.

I haven't always been as welcoming as I should have been. But, I'm starting to think maybe the blogger was right... That is what Jesus would do. Never miss an opportunity to love.

Nesting

I'm so on a maniacal cleaning spree. Cleaning, throwing out, or storing everything in sight. Including some things that I'm sure I've rarely touched in the past 6 years in our house. Friday, I plowed through like 5 different piles if stuff, scrubbed all the cabinet doors in the kitchen and the refrigerator, yesterday steam cleaned all the carpets (with Dave's help- Thank goodness), today scrubbed down the laundry room. B came by.... He says, "Mom, what are you doing?" Me: "Oh, just cleaning." B: "For Seven.?." Me: "Ya. Just gotta make sure everything is clean for the baby. I cleaned like this before you came too. Lots of preparations."

I just thought... What a wise little boy! He really gets it. I guess somehow, this whole nesting thing just makes sense to him.

Preparations

Dave is self employed and I work part-time. We have medical insurance, but no plans are offered for those who are self employed cover maternity. Dave called our doctor and hospital before we got pregnant and it looked like the bill would be around $5K. WRONG. More like $12K! (That is a LOT of $... And There is a Big difference between $5k and $12K).

So, I've been working on it all year (when I was awake). Collecting the resources is like trying to fill a giant swimming pool with a fire hose sized siphon draining it at the same time. But, now it's time.... The "last" (yeah right) $7K is due in like 2 weeks when we register for the hospital.

I've been working with fervor to find and pool the resources...
Filing Dept care reimbursement account
Filing Medical reimbursement account
Resubmitting unpaid accident claim from last year
A couple of remaining pay checks
AFLAC and maternity disability forms (after the baby's born)

Whew! This is what it means to take care of a family.... Filling out lots of forms. A new kind of nesting.

I created this crazy spreadsheet yesterday of what's coming in and going out when. I'm grateful. Somehow, it's all gonna work out.

Of course, we still have another $10K liability by the end of the year. (Shakes her head and laughs). Somehow this is all gonna work out. Sometimes, you just take a big, deep breath and know that Heavenly Father is gonna take care of you.... He Always Has!

Relatively normal

So, for about the past almost 2 weeks, I have felt relatively normal. Ok, well not "normal", but what I assume is "normal for a woman who's 8 months pregnant". It's amazing.... I'm not in a walking coma, not puking, not a total insomniac, and not in so much pain that I can't function....This must be what "normal" pregnancy is like.

I remember when I was a kid, my P.E. teacher bringing in this medicine ball. It was about twice or three times the size of a basketball and Really heavy to kick or move around. Being 8 months pregnant is like carrying around a 25 lb, dense and amazingly muscularly firm, wiggly/ randomly lopsided medicine ball inside your abdominal cavity. Don't want to move too fast for fear that you'll knock the medicine ball out of it's careful symmetry. Or, heaven forbid, Cause harm. Couldn't move very fast anyway with this ginormous heavy weight. I find myself taking long, hot baths at the end of the day to relax the muscles that have been working so hard to balance this gargantuan weight and to bring circulation back into my feet.

But I must say, this really isn't too bad. I can deal with this level of discomfort. Especially when I know that we will be having a little girl coming soon. This must be what most women experience. No wonder they keep getting pregnant... If this is as bad as it gets for them.

It's been nice. I've had enough energy to get some nesting done.... Taking care of those tasks that are vital to having a stable place for our little girl in just a few weeks. I just feel so much better knowing that I've taken care of those things. I got her pack-n-play (bassinet) set up in our room, went through all of Ian's stuff for gender neutrals, handed down 8 boxes of Ian's clothes (ages B-3) to make room, made some drawer space in our room, got rid of several piles throughout the house, and made a little stack of B-3 month clothes for our little girl. I cleaned out the refrigerator. I'm sure I'll have a mad cleaning spree at some point, but no point right now... Too much time to get it dirty again. But I am grateful to have the energy to take care of my family!

Why I work...

I the church, few women with small children work outside the home when their children are small. I respect this choice and feel it is best for most families. But for me, and my family, things are different.... I work (part time- 3 days) for a couple of reasons.
1) I really love what I do. Every day, I make a real difference in the lives of people with disabilities. A unique difference, one that only I can do. Heavenly Father has planted in me the desire, and trained me up, to make a difference in the world.

2) But more than that, because I want B to have as much time as he possibly can with BOTH parents. I work 3 days and bring home 50% of my family's income. This allows Dave to pay himself only about 50-60% of what he's worth, so his business can grow. Because the financial demands of his family are more reasonable, he doesn't have to work 60-70 hours a week to grow his business meet our needs. Consequently, he spends more time with his family and our son than any man I know! He is available and loves to be with his family. Dave works 40-50 hours a week, but he adjusts his efforts, so that much of it is relaxed time (uploading stuff or making simple changes to his software) after B goes to bed. Taking a few extra hours, or an extra day, to be with his family is par for the course.

I grew up with a workaholic father... Driven by the desperate desire of a very young father to meet the unattainable needs of his family- until he finally cracked. I remember him getting up at 4 am, leaving at 5am, home at 6-7pm, too exhausted to function. Grumpy, tired, unrespected. Never knew or enjoyed his kids. But he worked his is butt off, every day.

I see lots of families where the mother is home, but the dad works 50, 60, 70 hours a week and/ or is gone for weeks on end. Not criticizing their choices.

But for us, the Best choice, is to give our children BOTH of their parents.... Happy, productive parents, who have time and energy to enjoy and treasure every moment, as much as possible.

Motherhood

I must admit, Motherhood bewilders me. You would think that after having had one baby (and numerous ultrasounds) that I would believe that there was actually a baby girl in my belly. But, to be honest, it's still a weird concept for me. Ok, so logically, I get it. And sure, there is definitely some tiny creature doing gymnastics in there. But really, truly, a baby girl... No way. It all seems so incredibly unreal.

I guess because there is a real disconnect between what my body is doing (H.F. is managing that job) and what I am doing... Donating "personal" space and raw materials for a good cause. It's obvious to me that I am not the one in charge of the project... Genetics, hormones, Heavenly Father... Ya. That's who's in charge here.

Me... I'm just doing my best to survive the experience without permanent damage. ;) (well, besides the usual, "your body will never, ever be the same" that goes along with every pregnancy.) I figure the best thing I can do to take care of her is to take care of myself. And get our life/ home ready (which is tough when you can't lift more than 10 lbs).

In the meantime, I just smile every time my little gymnast goes for another round of summersaults, knowing that she must be doing ok. So dearly excited that almost nothing else in this life matters... My family and my baby... That's all that matters.

B is a Mac

B is definitely a Mac. Today he said:

Too bad Lego Harry Potter is a Windows game. If it were a Mac game, it would not be so slow.

Neecians

Today B was talking about the Neecians from Neecious Island. He made that one up on his own. I'm just impressed that he made the language correlation between a place and its people.

Showing

I can always count on people with disabilities to give me an honest interpretation of who I am. So the other day one of my more impaired clients reaches out to touch my belly. He certainly doesn't have the memory to recall that I am pregnant, nor the restraint to inhibit his desire to "rub the tiny budha." So I smiled and took it as an honest evaluation. It's official. I must be finally showing. 5 months and the tiniest belly is finally visible to the unknowing eye. :)

Stupid little fiends

So the little contractor rearranging everything in my abdomen has decided to move on to another project temporarily... Probably to torcher one of my other pregnant friends. Only one small problem... Those tiny hard had fiends left the place in complete disarray. My uterus is just hanging there, cock-eyed, held up by a couple of overstretched ligaments and a two-by-four. The ligaments trying to hold it to my sacrum/ lower back keep wondering how long they have to hold this huge heavy thing. Their over extended, overworked arms trembling with pain, "I don't know how long we can hold this guys."

Of course, everything else is just pissed off ... Doesn't like to be shoved around like that... my Sciatic nerve (huge nerve that connects everything) keeps wondering who in the hell keeps jerking on it. Heck, even my knee, shoulders, neck, and head have all joined in the screaming match. Like a middle school cat fight- everyone's gotta join the chaos.

So I've been to the chiropractor 3x in the past 9 days and had 2 pregnancy massages. All of which have helped to manage this thing. But Wow! Apparently even amazingly skilled chiropractors and Ginormous massage therapists (spending enormous amounts of time pounding the daylights out me to put everything back in place) are no match for those tiny, hard hat bastards. I'm sure I've taken 100 Tylenol in the past 2 weeks. Two at a time. (Sighs.)

SO excited about our little girl!!! She seems to the growing well. But I do wish for a more "normal" level of discomfort in bringing her into the world.

Literacy

B's literacy is expanding exponentially. It's really amazing to watch. He's learning like 10-20 new words a day! It's amazing to me. Dave and I have spent years (since he was 1) laying the phonemic (sound awareness) foundation he needs for reading and writing little by little. But, it's like watching a miracle happen before my eyes. Like giving him crayons and teaching him how to use them, but suddenly he creates a stunning piece of art (just an analogy guys)...Suddenly, he's putting it all together. Several times a day, he reads a word I didn't know he knew. Or sounds out an unfamiliar word. 40-50 times a day he asks us to read to him words he doesn't know. He broke the code and now wants to read every single word or phrase he sees. It's just fascinating to me. I had no idea.

Wicked!!!

We saw Wicked last night. I love musicals. We've seen quite a few. I gotta be honest. I was excited about it, but a little afraid I would just fall asleep.

No way man!!! This thing was absolutely AmaZing!!!!
I had heard a lot about it. I knew the general story line. But to watch Elphaba (sp?) evolve right before your eyes. Wow!!! Her courage to stand up for what she believes and to become someone truly outstanding. Anytime in life someone stands up and does something revolutionary or truly important- they WILL face conflict. It gives me joy to see others become something other than mediocre. Even if, as in her case. She paid a dear price. What a beautiful musical!

I even stayed awake. :). Of course,the traffic was bad, so I hurled all over my dress on the way there. But.. Eh.. It washed off well. ;)

One wonderfully memorable date with my sweet heart!

Corporate restructuring

So my body has decided to do some corporate restructuring...
I can just hear the little guys. "Hmmm. Let's see. I think her uterus is a little to low, let's hike that up a bit here." YOu can hear the little people in hard hats, groaning as they pull the muscles and ligaments into their new location. They pull until they can't possibly achieve any further movement. "That'll work for now."

And "Uhh. Her hormone levels are starting to settle into something liveable. We can't allow that to happen." The little hormone chemists in the pituitary, turn the wheels and open the flood gates. Watch the chemical rise, just enough for the nausea/hurling meter to engage, along with some headaches (just for fun). You hear the whole system slow back to a semi-crawl, "Hmmm. That should do it. If she's not crying from exhaustion, we have not done our job!"

So those little corporate folks and I need to have a talk. I get it.. the baby has now reached 8 oz and is ready for some serious growing. I can see need for muscle rearrangement for the event. But seriously, not getting the need for the nausea/exhaustion guys!!! Isn't that counter productive at this point? You want the baby to gain weight right? I know, I know, she'll always get what she needs. But seriously, can't the rest of us be reasonably comfortable too. This is supposed to be the middle trimester... you know, where I feel like a human being.

Hurricane

Pregnancy is like a hurricane. The storm hits and incapacitates anything in it's path for 4-5 months. Then there's the calm (the eye). A few months of relative peace (2-3 months, 4 if I we're lucky). Take a deep breath, put your life back together, and prepare for the other side- A couple of months of building discomfort (the rains start to return). Followed by... Holy Hell!!! Am I ever going to survive this thing???? One serious pounding!!! (First few days/ weeks after the baby is born. Really the first month. ) Then months and months (6-8 months) of continual rain and rebuilding until that baby finally sleeps through the night and life starts to return to something closer to "normal". A new normal. But Ahh... The Joy!!! Not the hurricane, but the new life that storm brings with it!

My cute little nesting family

Alright. I am clearly nesting. (As exhibited by my previous post.) My usual, neat, but relatively laid back cleaning self (I pride myself on being a "happy medium".), has disappeared and been replaced by a girl my mom would be OH so Proud of! I was asleep for 4 months. Now I have awakened only to realize... I've only got like 3 months until I am too uncomfortable to move. AND.... ****We've got a little baby girl coming!!! **** YAHOO!!!!!! We've seriously gotta make some space, get things cleaned up, and ready. If I sound minutely obsessive... I am... just a tad.

During my adventures up into the cave of doom (the attic), in addition to locating and irradicating Dave's 8.5 year old shrine to the God of empty boxes, I located: our car seats, baby swing, crib, nursing pillow, bottles, infant head positioners, etc. (Dave informs me that the above stated shrine was to the GodESS of empty boxes.) Anyway, Now, of course, every one of them MUST be washed/ scrubbed until it is squeeky clean and smells like a new baby :). No old food crumbs or attic insulation dust for my little baby!!! I spent a couple of hours today scrubbing the car seat and carrier down. I have to admit... there is something absolutely soothing to my soul in the task. Preparing for our new little baby Girl!

But Heck! If "I" am nesting. I've got nothing on Dave. I had a 5 day weekend this week. Dave -asked- if I wanted to go out of town, but the reality is... HE didn't want to go Anywhere! I came home Wed night. He had a fan half way installed in B's room. Yesterday, He came home from work like 4 hours early... just didn't want to be away from his family. Today, he INSISTS that we go to Sams. We didn't need ANYthing from Sams, but left the place stocked up until the new year with tons of commodities. Then we head to Walmart--- a $200 bill-- stocking up on everything possible. I said, "Wow. Our whole family is nesting." Dave denies it, but this guy is NESTING. It's cute!!! Makes me smile.

And to be truthful, So is B. My typically oh-so-adventurous kid, suddenly doesn't want to leave the house! He'll tolerate and enjoy one family outing on Saturday, and of course church on Sunday, but other than that-he will do anything in his power to talk us out of leaving for my entire Thursday-Sunday weekend. He knows that life is changing, and just wants to be at home in his own nest. He moved Seven's car seat up into his room today and insists that we set the baby's crib up in his room. That kid is making space in his life for that little baby. We were all laying in our bed this morning. B made sure there was plenty of room... for Mama, Papa, B, and Baby Seven. She got her own pillow.

Girl

B: I knew that baby was a girl!

Crowd Wisdom

As you may know, this afternoon we find out Seven's gender. Crowds in large numbers tend to be right, even when dealing with topics in which they have no expertise. With that in mind, please use the sidebar to let us know how you think the ultrasound will turn out.

Update: Ok, the sidebar poll didn't work. Leave a comment instead :).

Update: Well, the crowd is right, she's a girl!

Nesting Pregnant Woman, Stage 1

So, April, What'd you do this morning?
Well, B slept in, that was nice. We made some Blues Clues signs and posted them throughout the house. (Pretty normal right.) 10:00. Still in my PJs. I looked up and saw the chandalier... old, crappy. Thought, "Hey, I have a better one up in the attic"..... NEVER send a 4.5 month pregnant woman up in the attic!!!

It's cloudy outside, so the temperature was actually reasonable up there. But that chandalier---- No where to be found up in that place. This place was so crammed, I could barely manage to stand at the top of the stairs. I saw ONE old, empty box from years ago..... HOLY CRAP, PRegnant woman turns NESTING Pregnant woman and goes Ape-shit on the attic! One box leads to like 100. I'm just throwing them out of the attic and down the staircase at lightning fast speeds. I gave B fair warning... It was gonna be raining boxes and it WAS! 10 min later, Ian came out of his refuge of safety (his room) and says, "I'm trapped mom. I can't get out of my room. " I look down, the entire stairway and the passage to the attic were 4 foot high with boxes. "Ahh Crap. Now, How do I get out of here?" (I took a picture--- you've gotta see it.) So I managed to throw a few overboard to make a small trail through the impenetrable fortress I had unknowingly created. I thought, "Wow. I can't breathe." (Apparently the insulation up in the attic was getting to my lungs.) "I need to get a drink." So I guzzle some lemonade, and realize that I've gotta get this stuff out to the curb.

So I start hauling this stuff out. That's right.... Still in my PJs. So I don't even bother to put on a bra. Crazy Ape-Shit Nesting Pregnant Girl is on a roll. Ian, still stranded at the top, has decided that his fortress of solitude is actually pretty cool. I get like 1/2 of the stuff out there and it starts to sprinkle. I thought, "Those trash guys are never gonna take this GInormous pile of Dave's unending desire for empty boxes if they are soaked" So I find the original plastic that our 8.5 year old queen sized bed came in and start loading these boxes in there. They wrapped it good, so there are 2 HUGE plastic bags.

I have them 3/4 of the way loaded (about 75 boxes) and it starts POURING. But Crazy, Now Ravenous-to-get-this-task-completed Nesting Pregnant Chica is incapable of taking a break! I just keep hauling them out. Well, suddenly, my stomach decided it didn't like the attic's insulation either... So Pregnant, Bra-less, PJ shrouded, soaking wet woman starts hurling in the bushes.

Then, if that weren't enough... my bladder decides to get in on the game. Apparently I didn't look pathetic enough! I was puking so hard, I peed my pants! And of course, stomach thinks this is funny, so it decides that 4-5 rounds of this thing was the best choice. By the time I was done hurling, the entire contents of my bladder had soaked my otherwise lovely self!

But who cares???? I only had a few boxes left!!! And it was raining, so who would know??? So warmly soaked, crazy, braless, nesting pregnant woman finished the job! I couldn't be prouder!

B's Job

B: I'm taking a vacation from my job.
Me: What job is that?
B: My job is to find money for my family.
Me: So, what's my job?
B: Your job is to make money for our family!

Morris' 81st Birthday

Morris' 81st Birthday

For Morris' birthday we went to our favorite little Mexican restaurant, La Casita.

Nose Hair

B (watching me shave): I don't have any hair on my nose.
Me: Do I have hair on my nose?
B: No. But you have hair in your nose.
Me: Yes, I do, but how did you know that?
B: I saw it once. But don't show me again. I already saw it.

School Play

School Play

Last night, B had his school play. I'd like to make a couple comments about his wiggles. First, it was after bedtime. He's always antsy at night. Secondly, believe it or not, this is a huge improvement over the Christmas play :). Speaking of wiggles, sorry about the shaky-cam. I really need to put a tripod in my vest.

Superman's Planet

B: Superman is from the planet Crouton.

Uterus

B: I have to pee in the uterus.
Me: That's not a uterus, it's a urinal.

Our little one

We love our OB. He is really wonderful! Probably our favorite thing about him is that he has the ultrasound equipment right in his office. And he USES it. So every 2-3 weeks we come back, get another ultrasound, and most literally can watch our baby grow in the womb. Our first visit, Seven was 1.8 mm (just a tiny embryo with a pulse that will later be a heart beat). The next visit, Seven was 17 mm (with a head and a spinal column, no limb buds yet).

So Thursday, we went in again, expecting to see limb buds added to our little embroyo. We were so surprised at how much he/she had developed. This 30mm (3cm) little one now had the neural tissue for a brain, a spine, a primitive heart, little arms, legs, feet, hands, umbilical cord, and even a functioning urinary system. Wow!!! There's a tiny baby in there! Wiggling his/ her little legs and arms and everything. Quite proud of the tiny one! And a momentary sigh of relief for us as parents.

Decisions, Decisions

So it cracks me up what percentage of my decisions these days are based SOLEY upon whether I think I will throw up. I'd say 25% of my thoughts are centered around avoiding hurling. Seriously, if I think I'm likely to hurl, I don't care how important it is- it's a deal breaker. It just ain't gonna happen. Of course, another 20% involves what and where I think I can acquire food that I can eat. Add to that the "mmm. What can I take off my plate so that I can get some rest?" (Another 15%), and there just isn't much left.

That's right---So basically folks, I'm walking around with less than half a brain. Like a hormone crazed teenager who's only thoughts are about boys (ya, I remember when I was that girl). Except now the survival instinct in play is how to keep myself and this baby alive (rather than how to get JoeBob to notice me). My life is monopolized by my hormones.

For the record, taking care of my amazingly kind husband and absolutely delightfully energetic little boy consume another 30%. With 10% left over for other family, work, church, housekeeping, and anything else that might normally be important to me.

So, If you are in that other 10% and I acknowledge your existance at all, it is an act of undeniable love. 'Cause this chica doesn't move from sleeping position for just anybody/ anything. Even a simple phone call...that requires me to acquire my phone when I'm not sleeping, too exhausted to move or talk, trying to acquire food, or too naucious to look the phone.

Superman

As many of you know, B loves all things John Williams. He seems to have recently rediscovered Superman. As lucky timing would have it, a very nice family with a boy about a year older than B gave him a bunch of old pajamas. Apparently the other boy loved Superman, because there were several Superman pajamas in the mix. B's had them for a while, but hasn't cared until now.

The world in which we live

We're at the Houston Zoo today. They have a little water play area. A little boy here just said, "It's a good thing I don't have any electronical devices!"

So what does B think?

People keep asking us, "Does B know? What does B think about all of this (pregnancy, baby, etc)?" The answer is... He is mindful and contemplatively absolutely excited! As excited as a 4 year old can be about something that won't happen until almost Christmas time. Let's face it--- Christmas is another 7 months away. That's another 12th of this kid's life. The equivalent of 4 years of my adult time. I can think about, look forward to, and be contemplative about something 4 years from now-- but I'll wait to start jumping up and down until we get closer. But I'd say, in relative terms...he's definitely more excited about his new sibling than about Christmas.

We are quite open with him. He is a wise and happy little boy. He knows that there is a baby growing in my belly, but that little baby is only 17 mm (as of last week) and still spends a lot of his/her time still up with Heavenly Father while his/her body is growing. He thinks it's pretty darn cool that I eat, and the baby has an umbilical cord, and that's how I feed the baby. He can describe the whole process with great excitement, detail, and ferver. We go to the doctor every 2-3 weeks and bring him back a new picture of baby Seven (the official name of the non-gender specific baby in the womb). He saw a picture of a pregnant woman the other day. He said, "Is your belly going to get big like this?" yep. Baby Seven is going to get bigger and bigger and my belly is going to get bigger and bigger to make room. I show him how big my belly will be before the baby will be born. We show him pictures of my belly when I was pregnant with him and how little he was after we had him.

We talk about newborns, what they do, (eat, sleep, and poop) and how they communicate.... crying. He thinks it's funny/cute that newborns cry when they are hungry, need a diaper change, want to be held, want to sleep, want anything. We talk about how Baby Seven will be really floppy when he/ she's first born and it will take a while for him/her to sit up or hold his head up- so we'll have to be careful and make sure we support his/her head. We figure, the more Ian understands about this new little person that will come to our home, the more he will feel comfortable and welcoming. He is really excited.

It's interesting to watch him. Dave talks with him about how I need more rest because my body is growing Baby Seven. B is actually really supportive. Now, he is 4. And I am is favorite playmate. But he's become quite understanding of my need to take naps or sit still and play with him, rather than run around the house. When Dave goes to work he tells B, " You take good care of your mom." It's not like B pampers me or anything, but I can tell he tries to do a few more things for himself, instead of expecting me to be at his beck and call. What a wonderful, sweet, kind little boy!!!

Simple

So I work M-W. I take a deep breath, decide to be brave in spite of absolute exhaustion, and head out the door. Walking in a half comatose state through the first 3 days of the week. It's like having the excrutiating exhaustion of the flu or mono, the nausea/ hurling of a stomach virus, amazing hunger that can't be satified by what my body will allow me to eat, plus this baseball in my abdomen (my uterus) pulling on all the tendons and ligaments until every one is in a dull, achy state constantly. Already making it uncomfortable to lay on my back. But, let's face it, there's nothing wrong with me. Just pregnant. So instead of staying home under a blanket until it gets better, I head out and trudge on through the life that I typically find quite fulfilling.

By the time Thursday comes, there's nothing left of me. I pretty much just lay here all day Thursday and Friday. Fortunately Dave and B are both aware and incredibly supportive. Sweet B really does try to let me sleep/ rest- content to play near me/ with me instead of making me run around the house. Quite selfless for a 4.5 year old.

I've gotta say... My life is certainly getting simpler fast. If it doesn't have to happen, it doesn't. If it's at all negotiable, it's gone. Life is about taking care of myself and loving my little family. All other responsilities have officially been streamlined.

I think this is how in the womb little ones make sure their mommy's lives are sufficiently simplified by the time they come along. It's a good thing.

Let's Talk about This!

I've been puny lately, so B's been allowed to watch a bit more TV than usual. Today he'd already watched chipmunks (so I could get a nap.) He requested to watch another. I told him, "Sorry son, I think you've watched too much TV today. Too much TV's not good for you." What ensued was a Class A meltdown. Straight from the books of myself as a little girl---- including the absolute determination to scream until his request was accomplished. When a simple explnation was unsucessful, I opted to remove the audience (myself) and went about my business of making dinner. Ian cried for quite some time in an attempt to get me to change my mind (almost never happens). A few min later, Ian walks in, Giant tears in his eyes and pleads resolutely, "MOM, WE Need To Talk About This!!!!!!!".

Cute kid. I was So proud of him! Good boy! Dave (super hero dad of the century) always teaches him that strategy, but I was genuinely impressed with his ability to calm himself down and apply it! Cute kid.

School Pictures

Sonograms take 2

Clickie for biggie

Hand Sanitizer

B has been sick so we're at the doctor's office. When we got to the exam room, April got some hand sanitizer for him. I suggested he also put it on the toy train he brought. He was a bit distraught because it didn't evaporate from the train like it does hands. A few minutes later, he pointed to the sign saying, "Do you see that picture? It just shows hands! It doesn't show toy trains. You should've read the sign and not put it on my train."

First Sonograms

Clickie for biggie

Seven

Seven

A special thanks to Jake Denison for the great animation!

The Fly

B's pants never fit. His waist is too thin. The problem is that when he wears a belt, he can't get the pants down to go to the toilet. So, today I explicitly taught him how to use his fly. He was VERY excited. He thinks the fly is the best invention in the world. Of course, all that will change tomorrow when the iPad gets here.

Ms. Cindy's Easter Egg Hunt

Here's my second trial, this time using Sorenson Media's Squeeze to encode the videos.

Unpacking Easter

Alright, this is mainly just to test out the video streaming, but here we are unpacking our Easter stuff.

Video

Usually

We are sitting at the table a few min ago. B says, "I usually get what I want." What a loaded statement! Dave and I just smiled.

What an abolutely positive, yet absolutely realistic statement. I USUALLY get what I want. Not always. (not a total brat). But I believe that the world will usually give me what I want out of life. (not I will trample over whoever to get it). But usually. Leaves lots of room for finding the best solution for everyone - including himself.

I hope and pray that he will maintain that general perspective into adulthood.. I know too many adults who feel stuck with whatever life hands them. This life is a wonderful place, there really is an infinite amount of amazing options in this world. I pray that he will have the courage to continue to believe, "I usually get what I want out of life" and Go Get it! Build an amazing life for yourself kiddo! (no matter what life throws at you. )

Padawan B

Yesterday the Imperial Death March came on (via my iPhone). It reminded B of his time at Disneyland. Here's what he had to say about it:

I was really, really scared of Darth Vader. I didn't know if I could defeat him, but I fought him and I defeated him.

Here's the video as a reminder:

D in the middle

B has figured out two-digit numbers. Yesterday we discovered that he could identify most integers between 1 and 99 without any help. Today we were quizzing him on a couple and he says, "There's a D in the middle. Six-D-Eight. Nine-D-Five." I thought it was pretty ingenious.

Chuck E Cheese

Today we went to Chuck E Cheese. I'm not sure where he heard about it, but he really wanted to go. We weren't up for something too physical, so this was a cheap way to get out of the house.

At one point, a girl came out with a guy in a Chuck E costume. She was saying, "Follow Chuck E if you want tickets!" She led all the kids around the room and then had everyone do a dance and sit down. Then she led all the little ones in a chant of "Chuck E! Chuck E!" and threw a bunch of tickets into the air.

Back at home, B grabbed a stack of books and said, "Follow me if you want books!" He then marched us around the room, told us to sit, and had us chant "Ian! Ian!" before throwing the books in the air. It was really very funny.

Cast Removal

Me: How do you feel?
B: Bad.
Me: Well, the worst is over, I think.
B: What's the worst part?
Me: I think having a broken arm and the doctor has to squeeze it onto place.
B: What else is the worst part?
Me: Having to wear a cast?
B: What else?
Me: I don't know, what do you think is the worst part?
B: The saw. But cutting it off (using scissors on the cotton) was good. And this (x-rays) is good. So, we had two bad and two good.

Sweet papa

Dave is the best papa in the whole world. So B breaks his arm. Completely deformed. Dave takes charge of the situation in the most kind and calming way possible. Explaining that broken arms are just a part of life and guiding B through breathing exercises to calm down. While listening to Indiana Jones of course. Apparently Dave broke his right arm 4 times when he was a kid. So sweet. So B was in a lot of pain waiting for the doctor. Dave says, "Wanna hear about the first time I broke my arm?". They must have had a 20 min conversation about all of Dave's broken arm stories. B was so delighted to have a "comrade in arms" so to speak, that he almost forgot about his mangled little arm. I think it was reassuring that his arm really would soon heal (just like papas) and that Papa really did know what he was experiencing. Sweetest thing Ever!

Today

So April. What'd you do today?
Well, I taught a guy who can't talk or write to email. Taught a guy who can't interpret visual information to read and write. Helped a guy who can't move to access his lights, tv, radio, etc. And helped a language impaired woman to write professionally again. Seriously, no wonder I have a big ole headache. Time to go to Young Womens.

Heavenly Father

We were talking about eternal progression in Sunday School last week. It got me to thinking.... I wonder if Heavenly Father gets frustrated with us. Seriously, he's got a BIG job to do.... Far more difficult than any of us can possibly imagine. But many of us have experienced, in life, the further you progress, the more criticism you will recieve. You can choose the absolute best choice possible and will still recieve criticism. Think about how much criticism our Presidents recieve. It comes with the job.

I think about how much criticism Heavenly Father recieves from his children. I wonder if he ever gets frustrated. "I'm working my hiney off here, can't anybody just say Thanks! Seriously, Come on. That place is amazing. I worked for a long time on that place. By the way guys... Treat each other well and keep a Few simple commandments, that's all it takes. You're little world down there would be a lot happier place. But look, if you want to learn everything the hard way (shakes his head). And, hello, it's a huge world down there. Find a place where you will be happy and stop whining. Now, somethings will be tough, I'll help you figure it out, you'll need my help. Remember, I'm here. And I love you. But it's certainly easier to meet your needs and give you guidance when you talk to me. "

Just chillin

We are back at our facility in Galveston. It's nice to be back. I'm not loving the drive, but definetly appreciating the relative peace that comes from having my own office with room to spread out and think.

It's lunchtime now and the sun in the sky couldn't possibly be more perfect outside here. Nice warm breeze and not a lot going on that I care to manage at the moment. What could be better? A few min of calm in this crazy, crazy world.

School Pictures 2009

Clickie for biggie!

Girls

B: C3P0 has a girl inside and that makes it talk a lot!

Disneyland

Last week we went to Disneyland to celebrate Ian's fourth birthday. There we were joined by (in chronological order) the Denisons (Deborah & the jakes), the Gallups (Mark & Mary), the Marinis (Tim, Rachel, & Wyatt), & the Thompsons (Kyle, Adria, Sam, Sarah, Griffin, & Kaleb). We all had a great time. Ian's favorites were Roger Rabbit's Car Toon Spin & The Haunted Mansion.

Dream

B: Tonight I will dream about Indiana Jones eating an Air Head!

Indiana Jones

B playing Indiana Jones. This was all him. Clickie for biggie.

Swimming

B: I'm going to take off all my clothes and put on my swimming suit!
Me: Why would you do that?
B: So I can go swimming!
Me: Where are you going to go swimming?
B: In the back yard!

After he got his suit on I followed him out there. He had the hose in the lid of his sandbox and asked me to turn it on for him. He filled it up and hopped in.

First Day of Preschool

Monday was Ian's first day of preschool. He was super excited. When I dropped him off and told him I was leaving he said, "OK, go now, please".

Scratch

B. is going through a scratching phase. We have a behavior plan in place which is helping, but sometimes he's still testing the waters. So yesterday, B. scratched Dave on his face. Today, Dave made a comment about the scratch. B. says, "Copper scratched you." (copper= his stuffed animal puppy). I said, "Ian, you need to take responsibility for your own actions. ". B: "ok. Papa, I'm sorry I scratched you.". I was so proud of him. I was really surprised that he understood and knew the appropriate way to respond. Nice job kid!

Fondue Etiquette

We're eating fondue and B's bread just fell off his fork into the pot. Per tradition, I told him he had to kiss the person on his right (April) because he dropped his bread. After kissing her, he said, "I'll drop some more!" and dropped pieces of bread into the pot one at a time collecting a kiss with each.

Galveston

So I went back to our old facility today. It was like watching a death and a rebirth in the same glance. Traces of TLC---our old name tags still lying around. Our clients, offices, and the professionals we were before.

Traces of the mold that destroyed everything--- EVERYTHING from the waist (tops of our desks)down. Sometimes from the shoulder down. Recalling the mold standing off of objects- as much as a foot of outgrowth. The memory of the mold saturated air. Mold saturated EVERYTHING. Our face masks couldn't possibly hold it back and still allow breath. Mold saturated lungs. Courage, love, hope, and flat denial- keeping it out of our hearts. We must have changed gloves 10 times a day, but still felt soaked. Hauling out load after load, day after day of absolute destruction. (and we were the lucky ones- our friends/ co-workers went home to more of the same)

And now, in this same place is opportunity- a new beginning. Or at least concrete floors and partially sheetrocked walls which represent it. Something new will form in it's place. Something we are responsible for creating. Upstairs in the rubbage, I found a sign left behind from some folks who we lost in the process, "Seize the Day!" I'm not sure why it is so poignant to me. But in some small way, it feels like a beacon call. A call to do just what we are doing... Move forward... Build something new and something great. But as for now, it almost seems mundane.

Creative Bug

So this little boy cracks me up. Almost every day he wakes up with some new thing in his mind that he wants to create. It's always something new: becoming a robot, a hat with a square on it that opens up and pours raisins into his hands, a dog tickling machine, a big truck to transport apples,a cheerios transportation system, a new machine every day. Cute kid. I spend half of my life assisting him in creation development. It does make it difficult to keep the house in order--- going from one invention/ mess to the next. But it's a mess that I wouldn't stifle for anything in the world. This world needs these creative problem solving folks. But my Curious George certainly is one sloppy little monkey.

Problem-solving

On our way back from Dallas, April went to the back seat to get some rest. B had his blanket, and April was sleeping on his pillow (we didn't bring ours). When B saw she had his pillow, he naturally wanted it.

B: Can I have my pillow, please
April: Can I please keep it. I want to lay down and this seat is too hard under my head.
B: How 'bout you give me my pillow and I'll give you my blanket to lay on.

He's always coming up with a solution.

feeding

We have a couple of new SLPs at work. Fresh out of grad school. For the first year out of school, a therapist has to be observed for 20% of therapy time. I've been doing a lot of these observations. So I was watching one of our young therapists feed a client the other day. The client is at a point where we don't have to train him so much any more to make sure he uses his strategies so he doesn't aspirate. Instead, it's more relaxed therapy. Just watching him use the strategies he has already learned with a little cuing. Because my mind was relaxed from it's normal vigilant state, I was at leisure to just observe from this more distant vantage point.... I found myself quietly astounded at the inherent kindness in her actions- diligently feeding, observing carefully, feeling for and timing each swallow, reminding of strategies. Things we all do every day, yet our minds are usually so busy to even notice the kindness of the acts---of the profession.

Santa

Me: Who says Ho, Ho, Ho?
B: The Christmas guy.

More Billy Mays

Me: How old am I?
B: 29.95!

The right thing

B: Papa, don't say the wrong thing.
Me: Ok
B: Can I have a DumDum?

B in tripple-digit weather

I need water because my engine boiled over in this hot stuff.

Oxi Clean

That's the power of Doxie Clean!

Grumpy

Me: Are you grumpy today?
B: Because all of this not working for me :(

my little problem solver

B. has become quite the problem solver. It's amazing to watch him negotiate his world. We usually explain why make certain decisions- especially when it comes to B. He knows that that doesn't change our answer, but it helps him to understand and make sense of his world. It's frustrating to be a kid. Everyone's decisions often seem so subjective. If we define our logic, he can at least make some sense things.

It seems he is always proposing an alternative solution. "How about..." For example, he asks for milk. "Well son, we have a little, but I think we should save it for later. We won't make it to the store until tomorrow." B: "Hmmm. How about Lemonade (pronounced Momma Maid")?

He asks for a cookie at 8am. "Well son, we don't eat sweets in the morning. Too much sweets makes us sick." B: How about Yogurt?

So Sunday at church, he was up on the stand with me during choir. Choir was over so we went down to our pew. Ian saw Uncle Kyle plugging in the microphone and asked if he could go back up on the stand to watch him. Dave told him, "Sorry son, Uncle Kyle has some long cords for the microphone and I don't want you to trip over them." B: "How about I jump over them?" Dave: "Sorry, if you jump over them you could trip too." A few minutes later, we looked over, B had gone all the way around to the other side of the chapel to go up on the stand without bothering Kyle or the cord. A win-win solution. He knew Dave didn't mind if B. went on the stand (he's up there all the time), he just didn't want B. in the cord. Good idea cute kid.

Now, had Dave said, "No son, Church is about to start, I want you to stay down here." Ian would have complied with the request. He's obedient. But he knew from Dave's explanation that the only obstical was the cord, something he could easily avoid.

It's just kind of funny. Dave and I both are problem solvers... Dave's a programmer/ entrepreneur. I'm an SLP. I find solutions for folks with the most severe of impairments. It's just funny to see the same characteristic being developed so early in life in our son.

He's got my sense of determination. He's gonna do what he can to achieve his goal(s). But he's obedient and kind. He wants to do what's right, so he just proposes solutions which will allow him to accomplish his goals and still be obedient to his parents logic/ requests.

It's not too uncommon for him to propose a solution that I hadn't even thought of. I think, "Oh. Ya. That could work." What a good idea little boy!

Super heroes

Most of you know that I work at a Brain Injury Rehab. It's a funny thing. It's a lot like working in a world full of super heroes. Everyone is amazing. Especially now that the hurricane washed away any residuals--- we are left with a core of some of the most amazing people you'd ever know. They're all a little quirky, but their hearts are absolutely in the right place- fighting every day to help H.A. or P.B. or R.T. to learn this skill or that. To make a difference.

What's funny about doing such a work- Is the relative lack of Thank yous. People just expect you to perform miracles. Even after a miracle or two is accomplished, there is often much work left to be done. And some folks level out lower than we'd wish.

Most of the time, the Thanks come in the form of a memory. We remember how the client came in. We remember how the client left us. And we know the specific skills we fought hard and the client fought hard to develop. Their story becomes part of my soul.

Every once in a while- I actually get a Thank you. This week was a two thanks week. A rare occurrence. My absolutely kind,blind, deaf, aphasic client sobbed for like 30 min straight when I told him it was our second to last session. I fought hard. Made a difference. I wish I would have been able to keep him longer. No one on earth would put in the kind of energy I did to help him. He's still got a long way to go. I'm sad that he left so soon. I trained his wife well. I pray that they will send an amazing home health SLP to him.

My crazy/ fun-loving, brittle diabetic, apraxic/ aphasic client just left this week too. Wow. He came in speaking nothing but jargon, completely and totally unaware that he had a problem. He couldn't understand that he was being asked yes/no questions, much less answer them. He couldn't produce the simplest of consonant-vowel syllables. Couldn't focus on a therapy task to save his life and was pretty frustrated that we thought he should. He left speaking fluent sentences and paragraphs. The thoughts were still re-arranged a bit, but familiar people rarely had problems understanding what he was trying to communicate. He was reading aloud sentences, and paragraphs with assistance. He must have Thanked me every time I saw him for the last couple of months. Crazy guy. I think he drove a lot of people crazy. But I sure enjoyed him. I work hard for all of my clients everyday. But the rare person who says thank you out loud sure is nice.

I hear stay-at-home moms say the same thing... work hard every day and never hear thank you. It's the same way in the work world- rare, almost unheard of. Our society as a whole really needs to work on this. 'Cause every once in a while, it sure is nice.

Alone :)

WOOOO HOOOO!
Somehow magically the sanity gods have smiled upon me this morning. B spent the night at his Auntie's house last night. And Dave left bright and early to help with some scouts stuff. So it's just me... well, me and the dog. I find myself paralyzed here for a minute. What? I get to choose what I want to do??? Without all my family members hanging off of each arm. The relative silence is tantalizing. What shall I do? I could take this opportunity to get something done, but somehow the idea of basking in the silence seems so much more appealing. I know what Dave would do... He'd strip down, lay on the couch and watch some sci-fi show. (I know- "Thanks for the visual apes".) But me... hmmmm. It's just so rare.

Siding

It's amazing to me how in life... as long as you keep working on it.. problems usually eventually work themselves out. You may have to nurse them for 2,3,5,7 years and sometimes even start from scratch but it usually turns out ok.

So we bought our house 5 years ago. About 2 months later, I looked closely enough to realize that the siding on our house was falling apart. I talked to my father to hopefully determine a reasonably easy solution to the problem. Apparently there was none to be had. So since then I've just been watching the siding fall off our house. It went into the category of things you worry about and even feel bad about.... "It's my home, I should take care of it"...But can't do anything about. It just kept rotting away. We had someone look at it 1.5 years ago. Estimate- $9000. Aaaaaahhhhhhhg! We decided to focus on our debt plan and trust that it would all work out.

So Ike hits, several months later we realize it killed our roof and our ceilings (a little) so the insurance pays. We fix the roof, but there is still a huge leak into our garage. They ripped away more siding in the process of fixing the roof. Turns out it was the siding that was causing that leak. Hallelujah.... not happy about the leak, but I am happy that the $ to repair the ceilings (not such a big problem) could be redirected to the siding. That and $3K from our recovered debt plan funds.

So the guys come to fix the siding. I found myself sitting staring for 30-45 min at a time. I must have thanked them 8 or 10 times. I certainly brought them lots of lemonade, pizza, and cookies. It was like watching a miracle occur before my very eyes. That problem weighing you down that you couldn't do anything about- besides ignore- suddenly dissipating into thin air. Whew. And WOW. It's beautiful!!!!! Far better than I could have imagine.

I've always believed that if you just keep doing the right things- Life just works out. That's not to say that crappy things don't happen, but it all works out- eventually- somehow. It's just nice to know that's still true as a grown up. Just trying to build a safe and happy life for my baby. Be still my soul. The Lord really is still on thy side.

New Siding Before & After

Our new siding was finished this week. Here's the before and after.

Happy Mama

Young Women

I absolutely adore the Young Women I work with. I am so grateful for them. I love being with them and learning from them. You see, they are building the spiritual foundations for their lives. It's amazing to watch them build, without even knowing it, important pieces of the person they will be in 10, 15, 20 years. They have my respect and love. They are courageous, they are learning, and they love the gospel. They seek diligently to be close to their Heavenly Father.

It's been along time since I built my spiritual foundation. An amazingly strong foundation, forged in adversity (like steel pounded carefully in a fire). But since then, I have been quite busy... learning how to survive as a young single adult, building a happy productive spiritual young single adult life, building myself as professional, building myself as a wife, a home owner, building myself as a mother, as a Young Womens leader. Wow. My little pyramid has gotten quite tall. It think it's easy for all of these roles and responsibilities to get a little top heavy on the pyramid if you work so hard that you forget about the foundation. I am grateful for them. For their reminders to focus on the foundation and let that foundation strengthen everything else, from the ground up.

32

Ok. It sucks being 32. I know it's taboo to be so honest, but for me, it sucks being 32. I smile and I'm happy, but in a very real way, I find myself in mourning. Mourning the loss of my mother. In shock that she really was this young (my age) when she died. (I still think I'm 20.) Mourning all the years of my childhood- or what was supposed to have been my childhood-- alone. I just read this story about this young girl who was orphaned when her dad died her freshman year of high school. It told of her joy, her sucesses, and her determination. It was like I was reading my own story- only extend the thing all the way back to 3rd grade. Add a LOT more home turn overs, schools, living inches from the streets, poverty.

When I was a sophomore at Texas Tech, we watched a video about kids living on the streets. Everyone else in the class was shocked because of their conditions. I was shocked because their situation looked so familiar- and I had never realized that we were living "on the streets" or close to it all those years. Digging in dumpsters for cans, "camping" for months on end, nomads. My father finally got desperate enough that he drove us up to my aunt's house (I was 13- 7th grade). My father left, supposedly for the weekend, but he never came back. And when he left, We were alone! Left to be taken advantage of. Vulnerable. Without a father, our only protection was the gospel. I clung to it for dear life. My brother wasn't so lucky. I escaped Sodom and Gomorrah when I was 15. But only to experience another 3 sets of parents before I went to college. Either they couldn't provide a safe environment- or they really didn't want me- It was always one or the other.

My pain, my loss, my fears. They are real. And sometimes, I guess, the soul inside of me just needs to me to acknowledge the inflamed old wounds, change the bandaging, and try to let it alone again for a while to let it heal some more.

Flaws

I keep hearing this word lately. I think it's kind of a funny concept. I get it, but certainly don't see the world that way... Full of people with more or less imperfections.

I guess I think of the world and the people in it more fluidly. I think my favorite thing about people is their quirks. Most people's greatest strengths ARE their greatest weakness. They aren't flaws- just characteristics. Texture. My friend at work is very opinionated & determined. You certainly wouldn't want her mad at you, but Man- this girl will go to bat for you when you need help. Same characteristic is both a strength and a weakness Me- I'm very flexible- also less organized. Sensitive & sensing the emotions of others- also insecure. Dave is loving & reassuring- also sensitive.

Now, there are skills that folks have/ have not developed. My occupation has trained me well at identifying these. Heck- I can list off several of these skills I am working on at any one time. I can also usually tell you what behavior plans we are working on with B at any given time. But these strengths & weaknesses are separate from personality- even if they deal with pragmatics (social skills).

Now skill development/ or the lack thereof affects what opportunities we have available to us in life. They form the staircases and roadblocks along our path...our sucess in relationships and ecomically in life. There is wisedom in tackeling them early before they snowball.

Of course, occasionally life throws a huge honkin' bolder on our path. You can be doing all the right things in life and then some huge boulder lands in your way, or on you. Usually these are caused by death, disability, natural disaster, or the stupid choices of others. I'm sure there are other reasons too. Those are just the ones that come to mind. These total life rebuilds are not a lot of fun. My childhood was marked LOTS of these. I've faced a couple of nasty roadblock re-routes as an adult (as many as 7-8 in one year... Whew... What an aweful year), but luckily not any huge honkin' boulders. I think everyone faces a couple of these in life. Might as well plan for 'em. Good news is, it's a grand opportunity to build a shiney new life. Bad news is it takes years of serious, courageous, and dilligent effort. Funny thing is- not always, but usually, it's the personality and the skills you bring into it- or develop in order to survive the experience- that affect your ability to conquer and find joy.

Frustration

I sometimes wonder why every good thing I do outside if my immediate family feels like I am banging my head against a brick wall. I know it makes a difference, but why does it have to be so frustrating/ painful?

My little bird

It's interesting the almost physiological response I feel to my son's voice. It's like my ears are sensitively tuned to the slightest peep from my little bird. He's not even tiny anymore, but the response is still the same. I'm sure it's nature's way of ensuring that mothers stay close.... Some kind of biochemical change that makes it practically impossible not to respond. And being near him is like sitting next to 3 year old/can't sit still to save his life ROYALTY. I find myself simply smiling. Not some big huge smile (unless I'm making goofy faces at the kid), but a simple quiet smile. Peace and joy diffusing from everywhere inside- where the soul and essential biochemistry meet. A familiar face. I remember that smile. "You're my pride and joy" she said. And inside my pixy-like 6,7,8 year old body...I knew. I was nothing less than adored.

Caught up in a mess

I hate it when you get caught up in someone else's mess. Here I am, minding my own business when our secretary's 20 year old son walks in and unabashedly calls our Department head a B----. Wow. To be honest, the comment provided no new information re: Anette's feelings, but it certainly made them clear. So- I could ignore it altogether, but no matter what She Will have a panic attack by the end of the week. (There's a history here.) The only thing I can do is make clear my ever so neutral position and encourage communication between the battling parties. In the meantime, it's hard not to laugh, Seriously, could her son possibly have said a stupider thing. ( yes... Stupider is the correct word for the circumstance. )

Ugh.

So I have this client, who I think is awesome. Amazing person with lots of potential. Unfortnately, every once in a while (increasing in frequency), the client just gets beligerent, refusing to participate in activities which are specifically designed to help the client and the others in the group to develop important skills. The client is sweet, kind, & even helpful as long as you don't expect her to complete something. Then she gets defiant. The behavior itself is minutely frustrating, but somewhat manageable. What is Really frustrating is that the client's family tells the client, "I don't care if you do it or not. It's not important". Way to go! I always think it's a great idea to encourage rude and non- cooperative behavior. If it's not important, then why are you even sending the client? These days the client will approach me with the specific purpose of making rude comments. To be honest, I've started to avoid interacting with her. If I can let one of the other therapists do the interacting, I do. It's not worth it to me to put up with the abuse the client dishes out when the family is supporting it.
I genuinely care about the client, but what's the point?!?! I'm starting to wonder why I even bother. It's becoming way too painful to care. If this behavior continues, this client will miss out on an enourmous amount of important and valuable experiences in life. In the meantime, I'm getting tired of this crap!

Behavior management

There is hardly a day when I don't remember how grateful I am for my training as an SLP. The field has provided me with the skills to make a difference in the lives of disabilities, provided me with a flexible and well paid occupation, and taught me a large number of useful skills.
But probably most of all, I am grateful for the behavior modification training. I know others do it successfully, but I can't imagine being a mom without this knowledge.
For example,the past week or so our cute boy keeps pelting me with random objects. Of course this has earned him lots of trips to time out. So yesterday morning I woke up--- duh April. What is the function of the behavior? Why is he doing this? What is he getting out of it? What is he trying to communicate?...... Well, hello. The kid is Just learning to throw. He has no idea that he could hurt people or objects or animals. He's just developing a new skill. I can continue to try to punish the behavior and wind up with a kid with my fine motor skills- or worse- Dave's. OR I can teach the cute kid how, when, where, & what to throw.

Austin

So- I'm in Austin for TxSHA conference. I would Much rather be at home with my husbie and my baby. But we had a productive day, so it's good. So I'm sitting with my feet up on the window sill in my hotel room watching the cars drive back and forth across towne lake bridge. Tranquility in motion. Much like those 1960s lava lamps- an apt comparison for the place. I always loved Austin. I had more fun here in college than any human possibly could on $600 a month. Smiles all around on those simple, adventurous days.

safe

It's hard to explain what a fundamental principle being safe is to my emotional network. Erikson explained that during the first 2 years of a person's life, they develop a sense of trust/ safety. I lived in one positive and one really negative foster situation during that period of my life, taken from my parents. Locked in a closet for a time. Thank goodness I had a nurturing situation for the most part, they loved me immensely. But, I wonder sometimes if that is why I struggle with just being fundamentally insecure. Like a fissure in the foundation. You'd never guess it, I seem like the most confident person in the world. And the truth is I'm a happy little gal. But when my sense of safety is threatened, it's hard for me to move past it. I'm always scared of being physically harmed, a fear constantly in the back of my mind.

When something happens that makes me feel unsafe emotionally- unsafe to be myself-I find myself avoiding at all costs the roadblock that makes me feel so fundamentally scared to act comfortably and be the person I am. I try to move on, but find that I'm just scared... frozen almost.. so scared of and susceptible to the pounding that caused the pain in the first place. I try to come out of hiding, but even the tiniest stone makes me retreat. I generally just avoid the person all together until I know the coast is clear. It just sucks when I can't. It's not the right thing to do. So I come out, scared and terrified of what lies ahead... hoping that my fears are in vain.... hoping that I am safe after all.

Dancing

Ian got this book from Bucka & BooBoo for Christmas. It plays music. Every time he turns it on, he also dances.

St. Pattrick's Day

We're starting some new traditions. Starting with green hair, it seems.

Delayed Gratification

Today Auntie gave B a cookie. He wanted it warm and asked me if I would heat it up when we got home. He held that cookie in his little hand the whole way home and waited to eat it until it was warmed up.

The Village

I've come to understand that Dave & I view parenting differently than some of our friends. We believe "it takes a village to raise a child." Some of our close friends are in the other end of that polarity. More like "the village will corrupt/ harm my child". While I respect & appreciate that perspective, mine is somewhat different. You see, I was raised by the village. After my mom died, the village was all I could reley on. I survived & thrived by staying connected to my LDS village. There was always someone there to care for me, look after me, love me, & even provide for my support. My village was filled with flawed, but righteous people. I will forever be grateful for the range of wonderful and quirky people who taught me so much about humanity and life. Now, I was no dummy, I knew there were many potential dangers out there. But it was my integration with the village that kept me aware & safe from those dangers time and time again.

I guess that's how I feel about B. I think a vital part of my job as a parent is to surround my child with people who love him and have a vested interest in him, his progress, his happiness, & his sucess. I realize there are risks inherent in this. So we carefully select righteous LDS and non-LDS friends and family to hold close. But, I have come to believe that the real risk is in leaving him alone to battle the world alone with only the support of his parents. We are dilligent, loving, guiding, & available parents. But learning from us alone can't possibly give him the variety of learning he needs, nor the depth & breadth of the support network that he needs. I am eternally grateful for those who care enough to love my baby, support his progress, and teach both me and him along the way.

Just Chillin'

So things have bern a little crazy lately. Between work, young womens, visiting teaching (which has recently become quite a responsibility), Dave's business, trying to take care of our home recovery from Ike, taking care of 3-4 other folks who I love, & recovering from the poundings life gives you along the way, it's been busy. Today, I've decided to do as little as possible. And let me tell ya... It's Beautiful outside!!!!

Silly kid

B. is becoming a lot more independent with toilet training. We still need to send him, but he is able to go mostly by himself. So earlier today, I sent B. to the restroom. He was wearing on of those zip up footsie pj things. He comes out unzipped, opens his flap, and flashes me saying, "I showed you my penis mom ". I tried not to respond too much to the obvious-to-me-but-not-to him exhibitionist quality of the maneuver. Don't want to reinforce it. Instead, I just smiled as usual, "Uh. Son, you might not want to go around showing your penis to people. It's not a good idea. "

Risk

You know, the longer I am around, the more I understand that life is about risks. Not stupid, random risks--- like those idiots I see riding motorcycles without helmets. Those guys have a different name "Organ donors". But calculated and planned risks. Those who dare to create a feasible dream and go chase it. Or several, chase 'em down and make 'em reality one by one. My hat is off to those guys!

It's the difference between living a dull, boring, mediocre life and living the life that you intentionally created for yourself. Life still won't be perfect, but at least it's something you believe in and enjoy!

The real truth is most people I know take almost no risks at all. They let their hormones convince them to take a risk on a marriage. Half of the time, they never even took a risk on who they would date. Just dated whoever appeared, rather than suffering through the pain/ loneliness of fighting for/ waiting for someone amazing. Then after the one huge risk predicated on the natural drive for survival of the species, they just stop taking risks again.

The young kid who stares blankly at college. Too scared to take the risk of fighting their way through the maze that will build them into a professional. If they only knew how much joy and fun facing those challenges would be. Or they go, but never do what it takes to be sucessful. Life requires 100% of who we are. It requires us not to give up the first time a school says, "You're not going any further this way." Finding another route is terrifying and painful, but it's a whole lot better than the mediocre life you could choose.

I see it all the time, the accountant (bright guy) who has stuck with the same low paying (half of market rate) and praiseless job for 20 years because he didn't have the guts to look for another. He's miserable and complains all the time, but doesn't have the guts to take a well planned out and calculated risk.

I've come to appreciate the risks that have come my way in life. The $30,000 risk I took on Penn State and LOST. I'm still paying the $30,000, but every day I reap the benefits of being able to do what I want to do- what I love- and knowing that I am AMAZingly good at it. I've come to understand that even when I loose on well planned, well thought out risks... I win!

I got done with school and took a job at the school district (a stipulation of my grant from grad school). I hated it, but stuck it out for the two years required. Ironically, it would have been 2 years longer if I my grant had gone through the second year. Thank goodness for things that don't go my way! I was 3 months pregnant when I interviewed for my current job at TLC. I planned a calculated risk...I did my interview and was offered the job. Before I accepted the job, I scheduled an appointment with my future supervisor. I told her I was pregnant (waited about 3-4 min for that bombshell to settle) and added a second bombshell, that I was going to want to work part time after I had the baby. She had to think about that one! I told her I had plenty of part-time options (the truth), but I really wanted to work for TLC. After the weekend's deliberations, she called me back and said that it shouldn't be a problem. You and I both know that it was still QUITE risky to change jobs while I was pregnant, but I have never regretted it! My family is what is important to me. My job is how I serve my community, but needs to be kept in it's place. I turned down a $250 an hour gig the other day (PRN- 3 x a year). No amount of $ is worth taking more time from my family. Treasuring every day I have with them is worth everything in the world!

Every year I live in the life that I created 5 years before. I'm grateful for the risks we are faced with now, to create a life with even more freedom and joy. There's no guarantees in life. (Heck, a semi could fall on me tomarrow). But if anything, that's all the more reason to live life!!! Live it while you got it! And don't forget to enjoy the journey!!!

Family

Family is a weird sorta touchy subject for me. There is a tremendous amount of loss there for me as I spent so much of my childhood and growing up years without one. I spend a lot of energy building resources for my child, in the hopes that if anything should ever happen to me, my child won't be left alone as I was. In fact, I find myself giving Dave specific and clear instructions-- what to do and not to do if anything should ever happen to me.

I know it sounds creepy and wierd, but not so much when you realize that my mother was my age when she died. And Dave's father followed my father's same stupid and ridiculous path when Dave's mother died (a month after we got married.)... Get remarried as fast as possible, loose it psychologically, become financially incompetent, and dump your children for a period of time. (or for the rest of their lives). My grandfather also did the same thing when my grandmother died. Quite a little history here. I get it, but it's caused me too much pain to not address it with Dave.

Here's my specific instructions to Dave in the event that I happen to croak over:
a) You are not to get remarried right away. Don't even think about dating for a year. You've got a lot of work to do to put life back together for yourself and our children. Don't screw up my baby's life in your desperate attempt to make life "normal" again. Build your own normal.

b) You Are to get a Maid. That's right- Get a maid, not a wife. There's a lot of responsibilities that I manage that Dave would need help with. Get the help that you need so you don't feel overwhelmed, lonely, frustrated, and lost.

c) Build a financially safe and happy life for yourself and our children. Build a life of joy. Build an independent and happy life.

d) After you have learned to enjoy life and be independent, you may/ should eventually get remarried. You can't be interdependent until you are independent first. Take the time to find someone who fits and will accept and love your/ my children. Most women really struggle to love someone else's children--- good luck with this one. This is why they force a relationship- to cover up the obvious discrepancy. It's better that they let it come naturally. This takes time. I don't know the answer except to take the time to make sure. Don't you dare dump your children in the process! Your presence is vital to their safety. If you disappear, their safety will be compromised. It's a tough balance I know. If the children are small, absolute love is crutial. Just remember- Her children will always take priority to her- even when she tries not too. It's not cruelty, just nature (although it can get cruel.) You will need to mirror this so ensure a balance. Take care of your own children and love hers as well. Abandoning your own children to prove your love to your new spouse will only result in just that- abandonment.

P.S.- If you have criticisms of this post, keep it to yourself. These are my thoughts and experiences. Painful as they are, they reflect the truth as I see it. If you don't want my honesty, read someone else's blog. The emotions on this issue are far to honest, close to my heart, my fears, and the root of my experiences to handle criticism.

It was me

As we were driving home yesterday I smelled something a little on the foul side. I asked, "What's that smell?" Ian took a little bit of a sniff and, with a wry smile on his face, said, "It was me." I'm not really sure he knows what he was admitting to, but it was pretty funny.

First Things First

I don't know where he learned this one, but we're almost done with Sacrament Meeting and Ian told me he's ready for primary. I told him we had to have a closing song and prayer first. He said, "OK first things first."

Ian's Contacts

Ian found this big magnifying lens. He picked it up and said, "It's my contacts!"

My Truck is Allergic

Today we were driving and Ian let out a screech (as he is prone to do at times). We have a standing rule against screeching in the car, so I reminded him of this. He asks, "Because your truck is too allergic?"

Music Time

Ian likes to play nursery. Now days it includes teaching a song. Here's an example. Click on title for alternate sizes and such. iPhone users can just tap on the blue lego.

For the sake of self-defense, the mess in this room is Deborah's fault; she was camped out there for a couple of weeks.

Bathtized

Ian just got out of the bath, saying he got Bathtized.

Christmas Tree Hunt

As usual, we went on our christmas tree hunt the day after Thanksgiving. I think this is the third year we've gone with the Moses family. Everyone had a blast (even Kyle).

This is Ian's description of the event. Unfortunately I started recording about half way through, but most of the content is there. He hasn't quite figured out yet how to tell a story in chronological order. Downloadable versions here. Enjoy.

A special thanks

I teach the 12-13 year old Sunday School class. I really enjoy it. I feel a special connection to my class, especially since there are a couple of individuals in my class who have lives that somewhat parallel my own life at that age. I love the manual as it focuses on teaching one gospel principles at a time. It makes me stop and think about how much each of these principles has impacted my own life.

Today's lesson is on giving of yourself and serving others. I found my mind and heart drifting back to my own 12 and 13 year old years and a sandy blonde haired 6th grader in young womens who changed my life.

I arrived in Abilene abruptly in the middle of 7th grade. I was torn and tattered beyond all belief. In the past year and a half I had been in 5 schools, lived in 9 different living arrangements (roach motels x2, cheap extended stay campsites x2, old broken down houses x2, old broken down apartments x1), in 3 different states. Every step of the way, I had lost more and more. My step mom allowed me to bring one small box (2'X 1.5' x 1.5') with me when we went to Wyoming. My scriptures took up about 1/4 of the box, which left little room for the limited number of warn clothes that I had in my possession. My father had abandoned us to the care of my step-mom, I think this was partially her way at getting back at us (mostly me) for it. Plus, space probably was limited. The rest of our home (everything that my mother had acquired for us) was left in storage which was lost due to non-payment. Due to the kindness of the folks in Laramie, Wyoming, I had acquired a whole stash of clothes and other needed items at Christmas. I will always love Laramie, they were amazingly accepting and kind. We were only there a semester, but they were amazing. Unfortunately, all of that fell off of the back of my father's truck on the way back down to Texas. I found myself in Corpus living in the lowliest spanish roach motel in existence (just inches off the street) for a couple of weeks including one- maybe 2- days of school. Then my father got mad, packed us and our limited possessions in the old, broken down ford escort wagon we had traveled from Wyoming in (which took less than 10 min) and headed towards Abilene. My father didn't have enough money for gas to get us to Abilene. On the way, he stopped and said, "You kids, stay in the car." He walked in and asked to speak to the manager. He told them, I've got two kids in the car. I have to get them up to their aunt's house in Abilene. I don't have any money for gas. I have some tools I can give you in exchange for gas (my father is an electrician- his tools were his livelihood). He came out, gathered his last hope of livelihood and exchanged it for our safety.

It was in this state that I arrived in Abilene. There really wasn't much left. I'm sure I looked tattered when I sat down in Young Womens that first day in the only dress clothes I had (a blue jean skirt and an old purple sweatshirt). But this sandy blonde angel, sat beside me, seemingly unaware- or maybe acutely aware- of my tattered state. "Hi, I'm Melissa Crockett." And with that, she accepted me, unreservedly as her friend. The thing I needed most in the world. My father disappeared a few weeks later, leaving me to the care (and later sodom-like environment of my aunt's house). But not before Melissa had scooped me up into her safe haven. It was fortunate I only lived about 3-4 blocks away. She and Mary (her mom) picked me up every Sunday for church and every Wednesday for Young Womens. My Freshman year, DT (her dad) picked me up every morning and took me to Seminary. As my Aunt's environment became more and more toxic and loathful, she made sure I spent more and more time with her. She was nothing less than a spiritual savior for me. The very act of getting to church and young womens served as a shield and a protection to me in the most tangible of ways. Although the toxins in my aunt's environment became more and more lethal and prevalent, many/ most of these toxins were never offered to me (although readily available for my taking) simply because I went to church every Sunday. She helped me to resist this incredibly dangerous environment and helped me to realize that I needed to get out and find a relatively safe harbour. Much like a scuba diver with his gear, without her I would have had no access to the gospel air I needed and would have inevitably drowned in the sludge I was increasing surrounded by. By this point, it was just me and my brother Chuck. My older two brothers were smart enough to jump off this roller coaster ride long before my Aunt's house. Unfortunately, chuck did get forced to swallow some of those toxins. I asked him once why he stopped coming to church. He said, "I didn't have any friends there." I Thank Heavenly Father for Melissa.

Halloween Party

Last night was the annual Halloween party at the Moses house. Ian was more excited than ever to go trick or treating.