Mommy Writing

Frick the Homework!!!

2012-02-01T12:09:00.000-05:00

Because I am the queen of multitasking, while dinner was cooking last night, I helped Dom with his homework. That is always a grueling process as he guesses at information that I KNOW HE KNOWS...he just can't pull the letters/numbers/facts out when he needs them. So I redirected his eyes back to the page repeatedly, and I sounded out words veeeeeeeery sloooooooowly as he wrote "It is more steps from the kitchen to my bedroom than from my bedroom to the living room." That's a lot of words for any five year old, but it took 20 minutes to get the first five words on the page. And he knows how to spell all of the words except "steps." (Insert: a very impatient Mom saying as patiently as possible...which isn't very patiently at that point..."Come on, Dom. You know this! Sound it out.")

Then I got a phone call. And as I looked at the caller's information, I realized that it was another Special Needs Mom I'd been trying to connect with for five days. Dilemma: Deal with the short-term help Dom needs with his homework, or the long-term help he needs to make his way through life? At that particular moment, I said frick the homework. Because any Mom needs to prioritize, and a Special Needs Mom needs to place the long-term over the short-term. ALWAYS. ALWAYS. ALWAYS.

So I had a long conversation with this Mom about her son, whose issues are very similar to Dom's (it was Dom's teacher who put us in touch with a "Years ago, I had another kid a lot like Dom in one of my classes..."). This wonderful Mom gave me advice and hope, and I came away from our conversation with a referral to an optometrist specializing in visual processing issues. And I felt a lot less alone.

So, yeah, frick the homework.

The Difference a Good Man can Make

2012-01-26T16:55:00.001-05:00

I picked the worst "father" possible for my son. I'm not going to dredge up bad memories here. But there's a reason I have full custody and worry that he may show up to wreak havoc. There's a reason I refer to him in my thoughts as NGEFMK (Not Good Enough for My Kid). Fortunately, he seems to have no interest in popping back into our lives these days. In my last four e-mail exchanges with NGE , he contacted me to ask for money (um...NO). As an afterthought, he ended each e-mail with, "How's Dom?" The first three times I gave him cheery updates on Dom's life and never heard back. The last time, though, I simply responded, "You should call and ask him that." He hasn't, and he won't, unless he could use that contact to make me miserable.

But that's a GOOD thing. Just take my word for it. Dom does miss NGE, but he understands why he can't see him. And honestly, our day-to-day life is crazy enough that the topic rarely surfaces. When it does, Dom alternates between wistfulness and anger. But he knows he's safe.

It helps that our lives are more stable, more secure, less chaotic without NGE. That has enabled Dom to thrive and grow into himself in ways that he couldn't while tiptoeing around NGE's um...issues.

It also helps that Dom is blessed to have some great male role models in his life. Some of them have always been there, filling in the blanks all along that his father left unfilled. Others are more recent additions to our world, and they've already made a significant impact on my baby. After being let down for so long, Dom is finally REALLY realizing that he can count on some men (comments about apples and trees to yourselves, please).

Dom now prides himself on being a big boy. He's taking quick showers instead of sponge baths...this is the kid who used to shriek when a raindrop hit him. He resists the urge to use his earcovers unless/until a noise is about to drive him crazy...that's helping him build up his tolerance to certain sounds. He usually remembers to clean up his messes...this from a kid who previously wasn't able to even see a mess. He doesn't do his nervous sensory tics as often, either...it's been a long time since I saw him spinning (his sleeves are still having holes chewed into them, but he's getting there).

Mostly, though, I'm thankful for the other improvements I've been seeing in Dom. He's happy. I mean really, really happy. He smiles and laughs more. And that's thanks to one particular man who's entered our lives and picked up the pieces. Who's stepped in to shoulder responsibility that isn't his. Who's gone out of his way to show Dom that he CAN when he says he can't. Who's loved him and been a steady rock when Dom most needed one.

That man is pretty amazing.

I'm a good Mom, damnit! So what's wrong with my kid???

2012-01-12T23:29:00.001-05:00

I like to think I'm a good Mom. Not great, necessarily, but at least in the very good range. Dom has all of his needs met and most of his wants. I try to give him as much attention as I can, and I obsess over getting him the help he needs. And I mean obsess...I do hours of research every week, brainstorm workarounds for the classroom, and patiently drill the same fricking information over and over and over (okay, maybe not entirely patiently).

I don't say all of that so that everyone starts yelling out, "No! You're an AWESOME Mom!" I say it because no matter what I do, it isn't enough. No matter how much research I do, I can't find the magic bullet that will enable him to be normal. No matter how many ideas I come up with to help him at school, they won't work if he doesn't use them. No matter how many times I read/explain/teach/sound out/run the numbers with him, he just forgets it fifteen minutes later.

And he's weird. Not always in a good way. Which means he's a target of teasing and bullying. I talk to teachers, parents, and kids. I roleplay with Dom to teach him proper reactions and solutions. And it's still not enough.

No matter how much I do, it will never be enough. Everytime we come to a new obstacle or trip over an existing one, we'll be frustrated. He'll spend his whole life regrouping from those frustrations.

Yet in those moments when Dom is able to escape the prison in which his challenges keep him locked, in those moments when he can be still, when he looks at me with clarity in his usually-distracted eyes and says "I love you, Mommy"...I'm grateful. I look at him and I thank God that He gave me this gift. Of course I follow up my thanks with a "Please help me help my baby." But what parent doesn't?

In the end, God gave me the perfect kid for me. I don't know why this kid or these challenges. But no matter how long our road, or how hard we have to work along the way, we will continue. Because it's up to me to treasure the gift that is my boy.

And now, for a word from the single mom...

2012-01-05T10:26:00.003-05:00

Being a single mom is hard work. You juggle bills, short either your kid or your job (or both) on time and attention, and you fight a constant war to get at least the major stuff completed. In the midst of this chaotic life, you try to remember to do the little things that are actually the most important...trips to the playground, stories, games, MEMORIES. Somehow, you usually pull it all together. Not because you're SuperMom, but because you have no other choice.

At the end of your battle, you usually reap a reward: You produce a productive member of society, someone who may one day better the world, who treats people kindly and understands the value of hard work.

That's the usual reward. However, if you're a single mom to a kid with struggles, that reward often seems unattainable.

Obviously, different kids have different outcomes. And even moms with partners walk a rough road for their special needs kids. But the difference is that I simply don't have as much time to focus on helping Dom because I have to go to work. There's no one to tag to do the laundry, dishes, or grocery shopping when I'm overwhelmed. There's just me.

So as far as Dom goes, I had a moment this morning when I was reduced to a sobbing mess on his bedroom floor, wondering whether he'd ever be able to hold down a job, whether he'd ever be able to graduate from school, hell...whether he'd ever be able to read a story without someone forcing him to focus on each individual word. And those are just my worries for TODAY!

What started this morning's descent into despair? It took Dom 45 minutes to put on his shoes. And that was after 30 minutes of yelling at him to get dressed before I gave up and dressed him myself. It wasn't that he was ignoring me. It wasn't that he was deeply involved in anything else. It was simply that he would start to put on a shoe, then see something way across the room that he had to do right that instant...so he'd forget about the shoe. Lather, rinse, repeat...all morning. He missed the bus, I took him to school, I was late for work.

Last night we spent 30 minutes attempting to read a book before I realized he couldn't focus on the words because the amount of text was distracting him...so instead I pulled out a new stack of sight word cards that he breezed through on his first try. I don't know how to fix that for him. Knowing individual words is great - his teacher says he has an incredible vocabulary. But when it's time to put it all together, it instead falls apart into a big heap of SPD BULLCRAP.

Today, I'm frustrated. And angry. And so, so afraid that my baby may never reach his full potential. Which makes me worry even more...

Somebody gets it!

2012-01-04T22:04:00.001-05:00

I mean someone REALLY, REALLY gets it!

No Off Switch
January 2, 2012 by SuperADDmom

My son is 6, he has Sensory Integration and Central Auditory Processing Disorder. We homeschool, so he is with me all the time.

He’s hyper, he’s active, he has no off button. I knew this when I was pregnant with him. He never stopped moving.

He cannot walk anywhere, he has to run. He cannot sit still, ever.

He is “clumsy” and spills a lot, and bumps himself a lot. He can fall off a chair just sitting there. He’ll be eating and sitting like “normal” at the table and then BOOM hits the floor hard. The dysregulation in his nervous system requires he seek input constantly and he sings ALL THE TIME. He has to crash into things and people to stimulate his nervous system.

He pounds the floor hard when he walks for input in his joints…..talks non stop, spins, jumps, etc etc etc. He tipped the kitchen chairs back on two legs constantly and fell from them daily. So now he sits on a chair I brought in from the garden that is more like a stool he can’t tip back , because there is no back to push off of.

He wears me out. He sucks the energy out of me mentally and physically.

Even though I know all of this and do things to compensate for it like give him extra leeway because I know it is a thing and he is not doing it to annoy… he drives me bananas after 12 hours of him constantly yammering on and on and on and ON…and spinning, and jumping and talking too loud ( no volume control).

The only time the child is ever quiet is when he is asleep and with the nature of his neurodiversities and just simply getting older, he requires less and less sleep.

If he is awake and is silent, I assume he is hurt or sick – aside from getting lost in Legos upstairs (and even then I can still hear him talking to himself), or being wrapped up like burrito in a blanket to sooth himself while watching a movie he adores like Tron, Cars, anything with a dog in it – sick or hurt is the only time he’s quiet when he is awake.

He’s a total ball of energy, and makes me wanna pull out my hair and deafen myself most days.

And then…when he is asleep…I miss it.

My Wish for 2012

2011-12-30T06:44:00.001-05:00

We're about to wrap up 2011! It's been a crazy year. I'm in a solid, healthy relationship with an incredible man who makes me thankful for the long, dark road that brought us together. Dom found the perfect fit with his Kindergarten teacher. We finally got formal diagnoses for the weirdness that is my Buglet, and we've been making changes for him that are helping.

As I write this, Dom is building elaborate Lego vehicles and driving them up my leg. A year ago, he didn't have the fine motor skills to put Legos together. Now they're an obsession that feeds his weird engineering brain.

While swim lessons didn't come to the desired conclusion, Dom got into the water and even dunked himself a few times. He learned to acknowledge his body's warnings that he was about to hit sensory overload, and he's been learning to let adults know in time to help.

At school, he not only remembers his classmates' names, but he has actual friends (and a girlfriend, but I don't want to bring myself down by acknowledging that fact)! What a change from Pre-K last year, when he couldn't tell you his teacher's name on the last day of school.

This has been an amazing, blessed year. All the same, my wish for 2012 is that Dom make even more progress...that his diagnoses get pinned down even more, that Occupational Therapy helps him make even larger strides, that an IEP gets put on the books to help him become the star student we all know he can be.

And for all of you, my wish is that this New Year brings you, too, more blessings than the last.

One problem solved!

2011-12-17T05:29:00.000-05:00

On Raising Boys

2011-12-16T23:50:00.002-05:00

It's really, really hard to be a single Mom. It leaves you wracked with guilt. The stay-at-home Moms make digs at you for not participating more at school/childcare/the library. You miss big milestones when you're off at work. You stress that you're not spending enough time with your kid...then you stress that you're spending too much time away from work. We won't even get into the financial issues here. Just know that they're huge.

Being a single Mom to a boy comes with additional worries. You worry that the day will come when your son needs help tying a tie. You panic over the thought that someday he'll need advice that you're just not equipped to provide. You wonder how he'll ever learn anything about sports (yeah, I know about sports, but I certainly don't care enough to pass the information along). And you wonder whether you're giving him enough exposure to male influence.

Especially that last. Dom and I are blessed to have men in our lives who are willing to pick up some of his father's slack. Unfortunately, they all have lives and families of their own. Which leaves me to piece together attention here and there as I can. It puts me in an awkward position...I hate having to encroach on someone's life. I'll do it for Dom's sake, but I still hate it.

There are so many ways that I fear this lack of testosterone bonding will affect Dom's future. For the most part, I just put my head down and struggle on. But sometimes I look at my baby and I can see the man he can be...and I worry that I don't know how to help him get there.

A little vent...

2011-12-07T17:06:00.002-05:00

I'm going to vent a little here. Feel free to skip over this if you don't want to hear my whining. But it needs to be said.

Please, please, PLEASE stay out of my parenting if you don't know me. I don't care if you're well-meaning. I don't care if you're a teacher. I don't care if you have ten kids and actually do know everything there is to know about parenting.

Because my kid isn't your kid or any other kid you know.

My kid is awesome and bright and creative and funny. He's artistic and sensitive and sweet. But he's also set in routines and governed by his “rules.” He's prone to losing his sh!t over seemingly-simple glitches. He needs major work on his social skills. No, I’m not saying he’s weird. He's a great kid with some challenges that he needs to learn to deal with. It's my job to help him learn to do that.

So when I drill him on the things he needs to remember to say/do when entering a situation, don't tell me to relax. When I repeat myself over and over, don't glare at me. When I force him to apologize for an innocent oopsie that affected someone else and he melts into tears, don't tell him it's okay, that your child knows he's sorry.

Because he needs to learn these things.

They need to become part of his rules. If they're not forced into his routine, he won't remember them. If he's allowed to slack even once on an "excuse me," that could mean that he no longer considers it a rule. And we could be back at square one (and we've worked hard to make it to square two!). Yes, that means I sometimes need to be harder on him than I’d like. I may come across kind of bitchy, even. But I'm trying to give him the best chance possible.

So, to the mother who lectured me on the sidewalk this morning, I do appreciate your concern for Dom’s emotional well-being. But it’s NOT okay for him to run into you full-force and not apologize. It’s honestly not okay for any kid, but especially mine. So please keep your judgment to yourself.

(off my soapbox)

Patience, or the lack thereof...

2011-12-02T21:29:00.001-05:00

I've always prided myself on being ready for any possible occurrence. Yes, that means I'm a tad (or more) OCD. But I'm never caught unprepared.

I can even work around most of Dom's SPD issues. Something's too loud? Pull out the sound-blocking headphones. Too much activity? Find a quiet spot. Messy? Dig that package of baby wipes from the bottom of my purse. Going out to dinner? Check the menus beforehand to make sure there's something that's not too saucy/mushy/sticky. No Occupational Therapy benefits? I'm switching his insurance in January. A binder organizes research, diagnoses and shot-in-the-dark, last-ditch treatment approaches. I've got it all under control.

But more and more frequently, I'm getting frustrated with the aspects of Dom's SPD that I CAN'T fix. He has trouble focusing his eyes on one particular object, so he can never find the shoe/crayon/toy that is directly in front of him. Now that he's attempting to read, he has trouble keeping letters in order as he's reading them. Noises or activity distract him from the task at hand, which just makes it all the more aggravating. Even in the dream environment - silent room, one-on-one teaching - he's prone to start making wild guesses. Even with words/numbers/formulas he definitely knows.

Before, I could keep the world in order for Dom. But now I'm just praying the IEP process comes through so that someone more knowledgeable can figure out how to help him. I'm praying that the OT I can barely afford (even with the new insurance) pays off quickly. I'm starting to realize that I can't fix this.

Now he's out there on his own, and all I can do is take these aggravatingly tiny baby steps to help him navigate the world on his own. And that's scary as hell.

Of fathers and Thankfulness...

2011-11-25T11:26:00.000-05:00

I didn't have the easiest relationship with my father. Which may be why I've tried for years to build a relationship between Dom and his father. Part of me has always hoped his father would turn himself around so that Dom could have what I never did.

Recent events have made it very clear that Dom's father is unable/unwilling to be a positive influence in Dom's life. So I've given up my quest to forge a relationship for them. In all honesty, Dom rarely asks about his father, and when he does mention him, he usually adds "Before his head got confused." Their past few visits ended in tears and screaming, and I have no desire to put my baby back on that crazy train.

I am a little sad that Dom will never have the ideal - a biological father who would rather die than not be there for him. But I am so, so thankful for the men in his life who are there for him. With their guidance, I know he'll find his way.

N-Words

2011-11-23T12:41:00.002-05:00

I admit to having a bit of a potty mouth. My least proud parenting moment was the time a grocery bag broke, spilling food all over the middle of the street. As any sailor's daughter would, I let loose a string of F-bombs. A two-year-old Dom laughed as he helped me pick up the food, then happily started singing, "F---, F---, F---" as he ran up the sidewalk.

When Dom got busted a few months ago for saying "Son of a B----" at aftercare (that is NOT one of my phrases), we had a discussion about appropriate language in appropriate places. He already knew all of the bad words. Oops. I can't help it.

Even I have words I just won't say, though. So when Dom and I were walking to the car this morning and he said, "Marco said the N-word yesterday," I had an immediate, "Oh, S---!" moment (see, it's involuntary!). The resulting conversation went something like this:

Mom: How did Marco use the word?
Dom: He was just talking about them!
Mom: (Oh, my God - THEM???)
Dom: He said they were weird.
Mom: You know how Daddy's got darker skin? He's one of them. Which means you are, too.
Dom: (complete confusion for a loooooong moment) Nipples aren't people.
Mom: Huh?
Dom: He was talking about nipples. I'm not a nipple.
Mom: OOOHHH...THAT'S the n-word.
Dom: What's the other one?

The right teacher can make all the difference...

2011-11-17T09:17:00.001-05:00

Dom's teacher and I are both on Team Dom. We're both willing to do whatever it takes to help him get through the day and succeed. I know how rare this type of teamwork is, so I am even more thankful to have it in place.

She sends me updates a few times a week, and I got this one last night...

I was actually very encouraged today...we read a little bit from the "Gabriel" book and Dom got a few things off his chest :) He told the rest of the class about several things that they do that bother him (touching his backpack straps, eating his snack, talking too loud, etc.) and asked them to stop. The majority of the kids followed suit; it was very cathartic! I was so glad that he felt comfortable telling us what bothers him. A big step!!

She's just as excited as I am! YAY!

Dom came out of the closet last night

2011-11-16T07:47:00.000-05:00

He announced, "I'm gay." My boyfriend simply said, "Oh, Dear Lord." I said nothing for a few seconds. Then I asked Dom if he knew what gay meant. He said no. I asked how he could know he was gay then, and he said, "I just know I'm gay."

I suppose there have been signs all along...the hands-on-hips girly stance he assumes sometimes, the swish when he walks, the way he prances across a room, his desire to wear girls' clothes because they're "cute." And let's not forget his wish to be a Fairy Princess for Halloween and his proclamation that he wants to become a girl so he can wear nail polish. Silly me. I'd been chalking all of this up to too much mommy time with no guy time!

And I thought he was getting bullied now!

But I'm still holding onto hope. Apparently this is a normal stage in a boy's development. I know because I googled it...

Evidence of Batshit Crazy (Or Dom's Coping Techniques)

2011-11-12T10:38:00.000-05:00

We've come a long way from the days when Dom was unable to express that he was environmentally overwhelmed. I have horror stories of being asked to leave establishments because too-loud music or too-bright lights or too-smelly perfumes caused an instant sensory meltdown. Thankfully, two things have happened that have eased the way. First, he's gotten older. He's now able to tell someone that he needs to leave a situation. Second, since life is sink-or-swim, he's had to develop some coping techniques to buffer the world. Here are a few of them. I'm sure there are others, and I'm sure more will evolve. But this is what we deal with now.

Routine: The best way to avoid chaos is to keep everything on an even keel. Dom prefers predictability and routines. Things need to be in the same place and happen in the same order, or he starts to worry that something will be tossed at him that he can't handle.

Mommy: Um, yeah, that's me. I'm Dom's number one coping technique. I've always filtered/interpreted the world for him, and he's become too dependent on me. He's getting better as he builds other coping skills, but he still spends a lot of time firmly tethered to my ass.

Chewing: Dom didn't give up his binky until he was three. That was a clue. Once he outgrew binkies, he started calming himself by chewing his hands, pencils, toys, whatever. He prefers long sleeves because he can chew on them. This is often the first sign that he's getting overwhelmed (usually accompanied by crazy eyes...trust me. You'll know them when you see them).

Spinning: Once he starts doing this, he's nearing his limit. Movement has always calmed Dom. When he was a baby, he'd only sleep in his swing. He used to crawl in circles and bounce up and down on his butt when he got upset. Once he could stand, he started spinning. He spins around, he runs in circles, he spins on a desk chair...it doesn't matter. If he's getting overwhelmed, he spins. Yes, it looks weird. Oh, well. The alternative (and next step if you don't get him the hell out) is worse.

Meltdown: As I said, it doesn't happen as often these days. Just so you know, though, a meltdown is a toddler tantrum times one hundred. It's not bad behavior, it's not trying to get his way, it's not brattiness. If all clues that he's overwhelmed are ignored, if earlier coping techniques didn't calm him, or if he can't escape quickly enough, I apologize in advance. It can last five minutes, it can last five hours. Rarely, it will come on with no warning at all. All you can do is remove the offensive sensory input (or remove him from the situation) and hold onto him until he works it out. You may get bitten/scratched/punched, but keep holding on. He usually doesn't remember why he lost it, and he's often a little ashamed that he reacted the way he did, but the key here is that HE CAN'T HELP IT.

Alphabet Soup Explained

2011-11-11T02:26:00.042-05:00

So many of my friends are fluent in special-needs-ese that I forget that some of my friends/family may be completely lost while reading my posts. So here's a quick run-down of the Alphabet Soup in which we're drowning (and these are just Dom's...there are TONS more out there):

SPD: Sensory Processing Disorder (also known as Sensory Integration Disorder). Dom's primary diagnosis. It would take me forever to explain it all, but basically we have seven senses (HA! I'll bet you thought there were just five!). They are:

Taste: Dom doesn't seem to have issues with this one - his food issues are texture/tactile-related.

Sight: Dom has trouble coordinating his eyes both together and with his motor skills. So he loses his place while reading and can't find things sitting right in front of him.

Hearing: Dom is hyper-sensitive to certain frequencies, and he has trouble focusing/coping when there's a lot of background noise. We've left many a church because the music was too loud and he lost it...now that he's older, we use earplugs or leave during the music portion of church. Haircuts SUCK because the sound of the clippers is too much for him.

Smell: Dom is also hyper-sensitive to smells. He often craves disgusting smells, going back to sniff again, but he can go off if he smells something nice. I'm still trying to figure out which smells affect him in which ways. It's a work in progress!

Touch: This is the biggie for Dom. He can't stand the feel of water on him, which makes bath time loads of fun. He hates seams and tags in clothes, must have everything lukewarm (food and surroundings), and craves different tactile input (fancy way of saying he must touch EVERYTHING). He loses it when he's sticky/messy, and he gags on mushy food, although he's slowly getting better with it.

Now for the two you may not have known:

Proprioception (Knowing where your various body parts are): Dom's screwed on this one, which is part of why he's so uncoordinated. He has to look to see where his arms/legs are when doing unfamiliar tasks, and his motor skills are lacking. He's clumsy, has trouble writing/buttoning/tying, and he's not sure how much pressure to use, so he's often too rough.

Vestibular (How your body handles movement): This is the other part of why Dom's so uncoordinated. His sense of gravity and acceleration/deceleration is off-kilter. His trouble staying seated is partially muscle-related, and partially this...if he "forgets" to sit upright in a chair, his body forgets and he slides to the floor. When he needs to look from item to item, he loses his place in space. There are certain movements he craves, but we'll save part two for tomorrow, "Dom's Coping Techniques."

IEP: Individualized Education Plan. I explained this one in my last post - it's a very, very good thing for special needs kids.

OT: Occupational Therapy. Which Dom needs a LOT of.

PT: Physical Therapy. Which he'll get along with the OT.

ST: Speech Therapy. Which he may or may not need. It's the least of my worries, to be honest.

ADHD: Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder. The Developmental Pediatrician thinks we'll be adding this one to Dom's diagnosis. But it's really too soon to tell, so our focus for now is the SPD. Ironically, his reluctance to label Dom is screwing us out of an instant IEP.

AS: Asperger Syndrome. A high end ASD (Autism Spectrum Disorder). This was Dom's initial diagnosis, and it could still fit. The specialists take a "treat the symptoms" approach, so he'd still be getting the same therapies. It will be revisited later if necessary. If he does fit the criteria, it's barely, so I think he'll be okay either way.

More alphabet soup...

2011-11-11T02:02:00.000-05:00

The IEP process has begun. Yes, that's another acronym for you to remember - welcome to my world! IEP stands for Individualized Education Plan. Basically, it's the holy grail that will get Dom everything he needs to succeed in school. Accommodations, OT, extra time for tests, breaks when he's overwhelmed...

We got lucky this year. His Pre-K teacher last year had a very old-school, cookie-cutter teaching approach. Dom was overwhelmed in his class, and he got no extra support. This year is entirely different. His teacher is researching approaches to dealing with his conditions, she's providing coping tools and extras, and he's thriving. Despite the fact that the classroom is too loud/bright/distracting for Dom, he's far more advanced than most of his classmates.

Even without an IEP in place, he's gotten the following in-class assistance: OT for handwriting, floor chair for circle time (his muscle tone doesn't allow him to sit for long periods of time), a variety of sensory toys he can use to explore/cope, a quiet corner to which he can escape, private yoga class, and extra classroom jobs that not only let him exercise his muscles, but also build his self-confidence. His teacher gives him so much more than she actually has time for. She reads with him one-on-one (since he's distracted by the small groups they usually break into), she does push-ups with him when he gets hyper, she asks him constantly if he needs a break (he often won't mention that he's had it...he'll just lose his shit and not know why).

Thanks to her help, he's ahead of his classmates in math and sight words, and he's on-target for handwriting and comprehension. Unfortunately, he may be doing TOO well. In order to get an IEP in place, the school needs to come to the conclusion that Dom's issues are an "educational disability," that they interfere with his learning. Since he's on/ahead of schedule, we might get shot down. It doesn't matter that the extra effort has to be made for him. It doesn't matter that coping techniques would help him deal better with the average goings-on of a classroom. The point is that he's making it. That's all they have to look at. We have a big meeting on December 21 to decide Dom's future. That's not at all scary...

You are a superhero...from The SPD Blogger Network

2011-03-13T11:52:00.003-05:00

I'm going to stalk this blog from now on...so much of it sounds familiar!

I'm currently battling with the insurance company over whether Dom's SPD/ADHD/ASD-like issues should be handled as medical or behavioral (which makes a huge difference in my out-of-pocket, and I already had to go out of pocket nearly $700 for the diagnosis). My insurance will change in June, so we may have to wait until then to begin our therapy process.

Since the diagnosis, I have been so focused on the negatives - will Dom ever have any friends, will he always be the freaky kid who can't deal with loud noises or water or certain things touching him, will he ever uncling himself from my ass - that I haven't really thought of the positives. In my defense, it's hard to think of positives when a drop of water hitting your kid's face causes an hour-long tantrum...or when you have to leave church because the music's too loud and your kid is about to melt down (yes, that was us this morning, and no, my son is not a brat).

Dom is smart. He has an amazing memory. He notices little details other people don't. He is so precise when he's doing something. He throws himself into everything he does, and he constantly has "projects" going on (currently we're investigating space, but the bus obsession is still going strong). When he is interested in something, his focus is incredible. He is so literal that it is often hysterical.

In short, this isn't all bad, and I needed to be reminded of that.

http://www.spdbloggernetwork.com/2011/03/12/you-are-a-super-hero/

Yeah, yeah, I've said it before

2011-03-02T19:38:00.000-05:00

I promise I'll write more often. I also just did a major purge of older entries, so if your faves are no longer here, they're gone. Our lives have undergone some major changes over the past few years, and some of the entries no longer clicked with me. Never fear - I'll write more!

Night-time Walks

2009-08-09T02:49:00.001-05:00

In the winter, when days are short, we barricade ourselves indoors at night, awaiting the sun. Not so in the summer. In the summer, nights are something to be savored.

This summer, Dom and I have begun a new tradition - night-time walks. Several times each week, we grab our flashlights and explore our neighborhood. We have discovered that the babbling creek across the street looks far different at night. We have made new friends, too - the deer, raccoons and foxes who stay hidden during the day. We have caught frogs and lightning bugs, and we have sat quietly on a bench, listening to the crickets, the breeze and the bats flying overhead.

The best part of our night-time walks, though, is that without the distractions of TV, toys and computer, we are more focused on each other. I have discovered that my boy is as bright, funny and charming as I had always hoped. And he has discovered that his Mommy values him enough to just be with him.

I pray that this tradition continues throughout Dom's childhood, and that it is one he will carry over into his own family someday. And, who knows? Perhaps these walks will continue into those long, dark winter nights...

Bam! Bam! Bam!

2009-07-28T19:40:00.004-05:00

On our trip to Claggett Farm today to pick up our farm share, who should Dom and I run into but the food television God, Emeril?

He was there taking still pictures of veggies, perhaps for an upcoming book or for some sort of campaign for the Chesapeake Bay Foundation, which owns the farm.

I went up to him to thank him for mentioning the farm's CSA program on his show last year. Here's how it went:

Me: Mr. Emeril?
Emeril: Yes, Ma'am?
Me: I just want to thank you. We heard about the farm on your show last year - you're the reason we joined!
Emeril: I'm glad you did - it's great! [Then, to Dom] Hello, there!
Dom: Hey! You're on TV!
Emeril: Yes, I am.
Dom: Where's Elmo?
Emeril: Elmo couldn't come today. He's back on Sesame Street.
Dom: Oh. [wanders away]
Emeril: [Big belly laugh] I guess fame is relative!

Spring Things

2009-05-03T21:27:00.008-05:00

I love this time of year. Suddenly, we can escape the drudgery of the indoors and head out into the sunshine. Even when it rains, we're being cleansed of the winter blahs that have settled on us.

Melty chocolate. Dom found my stash!

New skates. He is growing so fast, but he still takes pleasure in the simplest of moments.

Creative fishery. We'll be getting Dom a real fishing pole soon, so don't think he's deprived!

It isn't often

2009-04-26T11:19:00.003-05:00

that I go on and on about Rivi. Usually, that happens in early Fall, the time when we started losing him...the time he left us. Grief is overwhelming, both for the griever and for those watching. So, most of the time, I am able to focus on who is here - Dom.

And while Rivi crosses my mind several times a day, he doesn't interfere with my ability to Mommy Dom. Remember how afraid I was that I wouldn't be able to give them equal love? I know now that it was a ridiculous fear. My heart has expanded to hold two completely different types of love - the should-have love I feel for Rivi, and the my-entire-world love I feel for Dom.

A few minutes ago, Dom and I were in the kitchen baking. Out of nowhere, he said, "Mommy, I want a big brother." My heart stopped. All I could say was, "Rivi is your big brother." To which Dom replied, "But I want a big brother HERE."

Oh, if only...

God's Castle

2009-04-20T14:03:00.005-05:00

We have a ginormous Mormon Temple near us. It's huge and has several gold spires climbing up to the sky, one of them topped by the Angel Gabriel blowing his trumpet. It sits right next to the Beltway, and it's highly visible from there. Our walks often take us very near it, and when we see it from the Beltway, we know we're almost home. Whenever Dom sees it, he screams, "My castle! My castle, Mommy!"

So, recently, I decided to finally take the boy to see it up close. When we got there, Dom jumped out of the car. He ran down the garden paths toward the "castle." It was kind of funny when one would dead end - he would look so confused for a sec, then try to climb through the flowers to get there.

All the way through the gardens, I was telling Dom that the "castle" was really one of God's "houses." When we got to the doors, Dom started rattling the handles, which were locked, and he seemed so upset! I asked him what was wrong, and he said, "God locked me out of the house!"

So he does listen...

2009-03-08T19:08:00.003-05:00

As we were driving today to visit my mother, Dom pointed to a slide in a neighbor's front yard. "Let's go play, Mommy," he said eagerly. I explained to him that it wasn't our slide and that it belonged to the people who live there.

His answer?

"They should share, Mommy."

Thankfulness

2008-07-05T23:37:00.006-05:00

I know - I go from no blogs for over a month to two in one day! How will you ever keep up with me?

Somebody on a website I visit suggested this blog to me. The woman who writes the blog recently lost her baby girl. Through her grief, she has somehow remained steadfast in her faith in God. I am so humbled by that.

I still struggle with God. I'm still angry that Rivi's not here after we went through so much to keep him alive. After reading the above blog (and listening to the song), I realized that I've been seeing Rivi as something God took from me, instead of as the precious gift he was - that God GAVE to me in the first place.

Until Rivi, I was infertile. I had given up all hope of ever having a baby at all, and then...here was my miracle. Instead of being thankful that my pregnancy with Rivi somehow fixed things in my body (which gave me Dom), I shook my fists at Heaven, screaming at God how unfair he was to give me hope, to give me my dream, then to take it away.

A lot to think about. I'm digesting it.

I Fix It!

2008-05-21T11:02:00.003-05:00

I've written before about Dominici's obsession with all things mechanical.

Today, our maintenance man was in our apartment fixing the ceiling fan in our bedroom. It needed fixing because I (once again) pulled the chain out...it was stuck on high.

At any rate, Dominici watched every stage of the repair. He kept saying, "Fixing fan!"

He was in Heaven when Eduardo took a look at our fridge, which randomly opens itself. Now, he was at Dominici level, and the boy stood next to him while he looked at the fridge. Eduardo was incredibly patient as Dominici yelled, "Fix fridge - eat food!" in his ear, too.

When it was time for Eduardo to leave, you would think Dominici's best friend was moving away forever. The tears started, the banging on the front door started, the "No bye-bye!" started...until he was distracted by an inside-out carrot cake cookie (thank you, Trader Joe's).

So, all day, Dominici has been wandering around the house with his wooden hammer saying, "I fix it!"

Before I was a Mom

2008-05-10T22:58:00.002-05:00

Before I was a Mom

I never tripped over toys or forgot words to a lullaby.
I didn't worry whether or not my plants were poisonous.
I never thought about immunizations.

Before I was a Mom

I had never been puked on.
Pooped on.
Chewed on.
Peed on.
I had complete control of my mind and my thoughts.
I slept all night.

Before I was a Mom

I never held down a screaming child so doctors could do tests.
Or give shots.
I never looked into teary eyes and cried.
I never got gloriously happy over a simple grin.
I never sat up late hours at night watching a baby sleep.

Before I was a Mom

I never held a sleeping baby just because I didn't want to put him down.
I never felt my heart break into a million pieces when I couldn't stop the hurt.
I never knew that something so small could affect my life so much.
I never knew that I could love someone so much.
I never knew I would love being a Mom.

Before I was a Mom

I didn't know the feeling of having my heart outside my body.
I didn't know how special it could feel to feed a hungry baby.
I didn't know that bond between a mother and her child.
I didn't know that something so small could make me feel so important and happy.

Before I was a Mom

I never got up in the middle of the night every 10 minutes to make sure all was okay.
I had never known the warmth, the joy, the love, the heartache,
the wonderment or the satisfaction of being a Mom.
I didn't know I was capable of feeling so much,

before I was a Mom.

I have no idea who wrote this, but it's beautiful. Happy Mothers Day to all of the Mommies out there (actual and in-the-heart)!

Two years ago today...

2008-05-03T00:47:00.005-05:00

My entire world was turned upside down. I was elated, terrified, and giddy, all at once. At 4:32 a.m., Dominici entered our lives.

I was so afraid that I'd somehow damage him. I couldn't understand why they'd trust me with this helpless little being. I had no idea what I was doing.

We've figured it out as we went along. Through hysterics (his and mine), tears of frustration (his and mine), and tears of joy (all mine), we've done it.

I'm proud of us. He's so happy! He's curious and intelligent and funny. He's kind to everyone...we have a lot of elderly people living near us, and he always goes out of his way to run up and say hello. He helps carry groceries (he balances a package of toilet paper on his head perfectly), he dusts the house, he cleans up his toys and books. We've done something right - he's perfect.

And he's two!

Dominici Speak

2008-04-25T19:31:00.005-05:00

Green: Any color that's not red, yellow or blue.

Eddie: Any cat - even one of the other 2 who live with us.

Baby: Any human being under the age of 14.

Ashley: His new girlfriend (sorry, Bonnie - he's fickle, and he has a thing for older women - she's 5). Always said perfectly.

Unfine: Thomas the Tank (I'm guessing it means Engine).

9: Any number that's not 1. Not to be confused with counting, when 1-5 are okay, but 6-10 aren't.

ABC...ABC...ABC...ABC: The ABC song, these 3 letters, repeated over and over.

YA-YA-YA-YA-YA: Said repeatedly, the lyrics to any other song.

Sky: Anything above the top of your head.

Whee: Any piece of playground equipment.

Olives: Grapes. No, I don't get it, either.

Cracker: Any food for which you don't know the real name.

Color: Any writing instrument - crayons, pens, pencils, paintbrushes...

Underwear: Any clothing that happens to be hanging on the clothesline at any given point in time. Usually shouted very loudly when someone is at the door or walking up the sidewalk outside of an open window.

Lub-yew: An immediate get-out-of-trouble card.

Hear that?

2008-04-21T18:58:00.005-05:00

That is the sound of silence. It is a blessed silence enveloped in the aroma of some Bath and Body Works bubble bath. In two minutes, I will be sinking into it.

It is also the sound of my nerves slowly untangling after a long toddler-drama filled day.

I have chocolate, I have a hot bath, I have a good book...

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh......

Who's Don King?

2008-04-14T12:52:00.004-05:00

We've graduated!

2008-03-31T13:56:00.003-05:00

See that grin on his face? As he climbs OUT of his big-boy bed?

He loves his bed. He won't actually sleep on it, though. Instead, he hangs over the gate in his bedroom door crying hysterically for me. When that doesn't work, he switches to Daddy. Who caves. Everytime.

Help.

My Boy....

2008-02-23T01:02:00.004-05:00

the mechanical genius.

My father was an electrical engineer by trade. My brother inherited his talent. I didn't. They share some weird inherited mechanical ability, and I just write (the positive is that neither of them could put a coherent sentence together, so that keeps me from feeling like a complete failure).

My husband has some weird communion that happens with all things mechanical...he sees something, and he somehow just knows how it works. He immediately knows how its pieces fit, how he can take it apart, improve it, put it all together again.

I can't do any of that. I'm lucky if I can figure out how to turn on the VCR - and forget programming it!

How odd, then, my son seems to me right now.

I got a new carpet cleaner. A few days ago, my husband had all of the pieces spread out so he could put it together. Dominici was "helping," but we didn't pay much attention. While Daddy was distracted by the NFL channel, Dominici started putting pieces together. He instinctively knew where each part went. We sat and watched for a few minutes, and the boy even grabbed screws and stuck them where they belonged! He couldn't figure out the screwdriver, but I'm sure he'd have that down pat soon enough.

This afternoon, he put the blender pieces together by himself while I watched.

He's also able to build amazing block towers, carefully balancing pieces that I could never get into the same position without tumbling the entire structure.

He has a sense of spatial awareness and mechanics that astounds me.

I think this means that I need to start hiding electronics...otherwise, he may start scavenging parts for future inventions!

Toddler Shopping

2008-02-01T01:03:00.004-05:00

Shopping with a toddler is much more difficult than shopping with an infant. Duh, Viv. But, yeah . . . I just figured that out tonight.

Tonight, Dominici and I went to Walmart. He's been sick the past few days, but today seemed to be much better all around. We were out of toilet paper, disinfectant spray and sanity, so we headed to the MOSTWONDERFULPLACEONEARTH.

I confess to having completely lost touch with reality over the past few days (other than puke-encrusted laundry) . . . so, when hubby got home, I ran for the door. The kid followed, so I couldn't make a complete escape. No matter - I was getting OUT OF THE HOUSE!

It's normally a half hour each way to our nearest Walmart. We left home at 6 p.m. Yes, I'm insane. Yes, that's rush hour. Yes, it took an hour to get there.

By the time we did, Dominici was in full tantrum mode. There were no carts in the parking lot, so I had to carry him while he screamed, "Walk! Walk! Walk!"

Then there were no carts inside with seatbelts. Then Dominici started yelling, "French Fries!" at the top of his lungs, thanks to the damned McD's just inside the entrance. So I ordered him some food and me a drink (unfortunately, it was nonalcoholic). Then I found a mostly-abandoned cart and hauled ass with it (well, they hadn't put anything into it yet, and they shouldn't have wandered away down an aisle. Must have been a rookie Walmart shopper).

The first ten minutes of shopping went perfectly. Dominici ate his french fries, flung droplets of iced tea at passing people and stayed generally happy. Until the last french fry was gone.

Then he began to channel Satan, screaming, "French fries!" I grabbed a bag of chips as we went past, thinking they were still potatoes, right? Um . . . wrong. He crumbled them to powder and threw them overboard.

For the first time in my Mommyhood, I got it. I completely understand now why women continue a shopping trip while their kid screams all the way through the store. It's because, well, we want to share our misery! And, maybe, it's also because we need witnesses to swear we were pushed into killing our children.

Even going as fast as I could, we still spent another half hour shopping. Mostly because Dominici kept pulling things off of shelves as we went by, then laughing as I stopped to pick them up. And taking lids off of things in the cart and pouring them out in the floor. And saying, "Hi!" to everyone we passed, then yelling, "NO!" when they dared to say hi in return.

Did I mention we stood in line for a half hour, too? While Dom pulled candy off of the rack and tried to take bites from it. Yes, I bought it. He'd left teeth marks. And it will be HIS FAULT when I gain 20 pounds this week.

Ode to the Elmo Chair

2007-10-28T16:22:00.001-05:00

You have brought endless hours of joy to our home,
giggling, vibrating, being tossed around.
Now, though, your laughter is silenced,
Your wiggling is over,
and you are simply...

A chair.

Thank GOD you finally died!

Holy Toddlerdom!

2007-09-25T13:44:00.001-05:00

Mommying a toddler can give you an exact picture of what it would be like to live with split personalities.

Dom screams "No!," has tantrums, and throws things on a regular basis. There are days I'm nearly reduced to tears and resort to putting him in his crib and closing the door. I then go blast music loudly enough to drown out his screaming. And trust me, the neighbors would much rather hear Daughtry at top volume than my kid!

But he also gives me random hugs now. Halfway through, he lifts his head to give me a huge happy grin, then goes back to the cuddle. When he wakes up in the morning, he stands up in his crib, smiles at me, and hands me his binky. Then he talks to me (I guess about his plans for the day) while we change his diaper and get dressed.

He throws food everywhere and takes great joy at crushing cookies into the carpet. He crunches on cat food. He also says "MMMMM" whenever eating something he enjoys, while beaming with joy.

He pulls the cat's tail and shoves him off of furniture. He also lays quietly with his head on him and gives him kisses.

He throws his toys everywhere, leaving a trail of destruction in his wake. He also brings his favorite toy to me so I can share in his fun.

At any given moment, Dom is a burr in my butt and the greatest creation that ever existed. That is toddlerhood, and the joy of Mommyhood!

He can walk!

2007-08-24T22:25:00.000-05:00

No matter how you try...

2007-08-15T14:21:00.000-05:00

you can never remove all of the vomit from a Koosh ball.

Whore Mommy!

2007-07-23T19:32:00.000-05:00

Dom and I had an incredible day! We walked to the library, where he traded his summer reading coupon for a prize. Then we went to Starbucks, where I ordered my Venti Decaf, Sugar-Free, Skim, Iced Vanilla Latte and Dom got Chocolate Milk. We sat on the patio to have our drinks, and lots of birds gathered around to entertain the boy.

Then we walked over to the grocery store so I could buy the paper and a case of Diet Coke with Splenda (have you HAD this stuff?). It's a small, standalone neighborhood store. The prices are competitive, but the selection sucks, so we rarely go. They're very kid-friendly - they have hopscotch grids and other sidewalk games painted onto the floors. They also have an old-style mechanical horse kids can ride for a penny . . . and they have a tub of pennies right next to it for the kids to use.

I asked Dom if he wanted to ride the horse, and he reached for it. I took him out of his stroller and put him on. He loved every second of it, and when the ride stopped, he started to whimper. So I quickly plugged it with another penny. When that ride was over, I said, "The horse is tired, honey. We'll ride the horse another time." I put him in the stroller, and all seemed fine.

Until we got to the soda aisle. Dom craned his neck to see around the back of the stroller, looking for the horse. Then he screamed, "WHORE MOMMY, WHORE MOMMY, WHORE MOMMY" repeatedly. When he was done, I noticed that there was an unusual silence in the store. There was no conversation, nobody was ordering at the deli counter, no cash registers were ringing. As I grabbed the case of Diet Coke (with Splenda!), bursts of laughter sprung up from the aisles around me. I managed to check out without looking anyone in the eye.

And that is why I can no longer shop at my neighborhood grocery store.

Enough said!

2007-06-12T18:22:00.000-05:00

Grieving

2007-05-09T13:05:00.000-05:00

"So much time I'd spent heartbroken, mourning my boy, and he'd deserved every minute. But now it was time to come back to my life, to put him into a room I could visit - and would - but that I no longer lived in."

- Cathi Hanauer in "Sweet Ruin."

I just finished this book, and even after I was done, the above passage was still stuck in my head. So I went back and wrote it down. The book is about a woman who lost her baby boy when he was a day old . She has spent the past two years lost in her grief, barely able to function. She's been able to care for her older daughter and do her work, but that's it. Finally, she's moving out of her grief. Not that it disappears...throughout the book, she goes back periodically to missing her son, then shakes off her grief to grab hold of life again. It's a very realistic portrayal of the way grieving mothers must "move on" after a loss. You never forget your baby, but you need to learn how to live the rest of your life without him, or you stop living altogether. Eventually, your baby becomes a happy part of your life story, rather than the overriding angst he once was.

I don't think of Rivi as much as I used to on an everyday basis. When I do, the thought is accompanied by a flash of guilt that I dared to pass a single moment of my life without obsessing over him. I know he knows I love him. I know he would want me to be happy. And it's not that I forget him...more that he's temporarily pushed to the back of my mind while I focus on other things. Like his little brother.

I love both of my boys. I miss Rivi with every ounce of my being, but it's not something I notice constantly the way I once did. Sometimes I worry that I will become lost in Dominici and forget Rivi. Logically, I know that can't happen. But Mommy guilt is a totally illogical thing. Grief is a totally illogical thing.

A friend of mine lost her twin boys on Monday. They were born too early to live. I tried to explain to her the steps of my own healing process, and she couldn't quite grasp it. She said she'd have to take my word for it. I wish I could help her see that, eventually, it will hurt less and less. Eventually, she'll be able to breathe again. Eventually, she'll be able to remember them without crying, but she'll always feel that constant ache. How can I show this to her when she's sitting at the beginning, looking at her life stretching out in front of her, without her sons? I can't...only time can show her. Only time can heal her and show her the way back to her life...battered, different, but hers.

I'm not ready!

2007-05-08T00:39:00.000-05:00

My baby just celebrated his first birthday. I am in a complete state of denial, despite the fact that he's starting to look more like a little boy and less like a baby. He can't be a year old!

There are so many things I didn't get to enjoy while freaking out or worrying. For example, I never really got to fully enjoy holding him as he slept - I was always afraid he'd stop breathing. I never got to just applaud the new things he was learning - I was always afraid he'd hurt himself.

How did he grow up so fast?

Teeth

2007-04-02T15:11:00.000-05:00

My previously sweet, angelic boy has become a monster. Two days ago, he would play quietly while I did something - make dinner, fold laundry, perform basic hygiene...

Now, he must be held constantly. And whether he's being held or not, he must shriek at decibels unfit for the human ear.

Dinner is now sandwiches I can put together while wearing him in his sling and listening to him scream. I haven't showered today, and I don't remember when I last brushed my teeth.

I know the enemy - teething. And I am powerless to fight it.

Expectant mothers fear labor. Ha! I laugh to think of the 16 hours of labor I endured to bring him into this world. That was the easy part.

No - the hard part is the teeth.

The damned teeth that are
NEVER
GOING
TO
BREAK
THROUGH

Where the heck do binkies go?

2007-03-14T23:06:00.000-05:00

Somewhere, in an alternate universe, there is a land of missing binkies. For those of you who aren't parents, a binkie is a plug, a shutter-upper, a pacifier. That often goes missing at the most inconvenient times.

For instance, when you're in church, your baby's getting wiggly, and you know a squeal will come very soon if you don't get something into his mouth.

Or when you're in a grocery store and somebody tells you how well-behaved your baby is. That is sure to bring on a screaming session within 10 seconds.

So, when you're in the middle of one of these moments, you reach into your pocket, the diaper bag, your purse...just to find that the binky is gone. You know you put it there, and when you later tear apart your house and car to find it, you won't. It has dematerialized.

I'm thinking the land of missing binkies must be pretty darned nice, since it lures binkies from us here in the land of needy parents. I'm picturing binkies running freely through a field, untethered by pacifier cords which all-too-recently tied them to an infant's clothing. There, there is no fear of a new tooth piercing their tender silicone shell.

Or maybe the cats are stealing the fricking things and I'll find a pile of them under the dresser when we move.

He's a big boy now

2007-03-14T01:34:00.000-05:00

My baby boy is growing up too quickly! He doesn't smell like a baby anymore. Instead, he smells like a sweaty, active little boy. I know he's supposed to grow up, but I'm not ready.

He got his first haircut on Saturday. In less than 10 minutes, he went from baby to little man. I'm so proud of everything he's learning and doing today, but it seems to be happening too fast.

Just look at him! The messy baby head is gone, and he's all GQ adorableness. How totally unfair!

My Christmas...a poem by Viv

2006-12-26T00:10:00.001-05:00

Twas the morning of Christmas and I woke up late;
Jumped out of bed to start off the day.
Had to clean house because crowds would come by.
Did yesterday's dishes, piled two feet high.
Frantically straightened the baby's new toys;
No place to put them - need a toybox for the boy!
Wiped off the counters, scrubbed the kitchen floor.
What, oh what, did I procrastinate for?
Folded up clothes and put them away;
I never get a chance to do that these days.
Wiped the bathroom sink and cleaned the toilet;
cleaned the litterbox of our three furry pets.
Bent to scrub the tub and felt a big pull;
seems I hurt my back - very not cool!
Too much left to do - vaccuum, dust and such,
but now my back hurts way too much.
Oh, the boy is sneezing and coughing and more;
hubby, too, and my own throat is sore.
No time to be sick, but here we are;
None of my cleaning got very far.
The guests have arrived and nothing is done,
at least Dominici is having fun.
Twas the Christmas where everything seemed to go wrong,
But I'm counting my blessings and the list is long.
Good friends, family, many gifts given to us;
Thank God for them all, it was a wonderful Christmas.

Things I love about Dominici

2006-12-22T21:24:00.001-05:00

This is my first Christmas with a living baby, so excuse me for being a little bit sappy. I am so thankful for Dominici - I promise I won't make a habit of this!

Things I love about Dominici:

I love the way his body totally relaxes into me when we cuddle. At that moment, he trusts that he is completely safe and loved.

I love the way he'll pause his playing to look up at me, say "Mama" and give me a big grin.

I love the way he smells after a bath.

I love the way he smells when he needs a bath.

I love the way his hair curls in the back but stays straight on the top and sides.

I love the way he pets the cat too roughly, then looks at me and does it more gently.

I love the way he looks when he's asleep.

I love that he reaches for me in his sleep.

I love the way he "talks" to me all day.

I love the way he coos along with me when I sing to him.

I love the way he experiences the world - everything needs to be touched and tasted.

I love the way he tries so hard not to touch something that he knows he's not supposed to, but then gives into temptation and immediately yanks his hand back.

Mostly, though, I just love that this miracle is mine!

Bye-bye, carrier

2006-12-19T18:24:00.000-05:00

I'm a neglectful blogger. I'm a procrastinator extraordinaire. It's been over a month, but I never promised I'd blog regularly. Besides, I have a life! Sort of. Kind of. Sometimes. Okay, rarely.

My boy has a big-boy carseat. No more infant carrier for us - he's all grown up. He's much lighter to carry now, without a bulky seat adding to the weight. And nothing feels better than his head on my shoulder, passed out from an eventful night, as we walk to the apartment from the car.

BUT (you knew there'd be one, or a few, right?), I can't put him down anymore. He doesn't walk yet, and who wants to sit their kid on the dirty ground out in public? Especially when he sucks on his fingers and has developed an obsession with shoes? Do you have any idea how hard it is to balance a wiggly kid on one hip, trying to hold him away from the tempting goodies he wants to play with, while unzipping a change purse and fishing for the right money to pay for a bottle of water?

I'm also terrified that the instant I do put him down, he'll suddenly realize he's free and crawl away too fast for me to catch him (never mind the fact that he still can't even get into crawling position). I think this has more to do with my sense of inadequacy as a Mommy. After all, sometimes I'm a neglectful Mommy, and he doesn't get solids for a day! And, sometimes, I let the TV babysit him. Shhh...