If it's Wednesday it must be the washer leaking.

I spent last weekend in Indianapolis at my third NDSC convention and I'm only now coming off a high that's probably illegal in most states.  I love-love-love going to these, despite being a grumpy introvert, despite the money (though I wrangled grants this year!), and despite the emotional landmines I occasionally hit.  This year was no different.  I want to run thru some of the sessions on here but thought I should play a little catch up first.  

Yosemite!

We've had fun! exciting! events almost every weekend this summer - I went to Yosemite by way of a work trip, we attended Gigi's memorial in Nebraska and saw extended family (happily without the expected fireworks), the whole family played extras in a movie, we finally did the local Step Up for Down syndrome walk right (turns out mimosas are key), The Boy went on his first official Boy Scout camping trip and built a rocket, and we had some of my favorite weekend guests for July 4th (happily with fireworks!).

The Rocket

Each of these deserved its own post.  Sorry 'bout that.  It never happened because I've also been fighting the chronic, unwinnable battle of trying to get my **** done at work.  It's a 60+ hour/week job and I only have 40 hours to give it, which leaves me constantly frustrated.  And tired.  

Camping!

The frustration's compounded by the fact that something expensive is breaking around here every.single.fucking.week.  The best (but sadly not the least expensive) incident was when The Girl, who has taken to acting out her favorite videos with her dolls and iPad (adorable!), took the iPad into the tub (That she'd filled herself! Such initiative!) to reenact a certain Sofia the First Mermaid episode.  Turns out drying electronics in rice doesn't work.  At all.  The monitor on my computer then died in solidarity.  There were various other trips to the vet, optometrist, and thousands of dollars spent on the cars, only to lose first gear on one.   

I still can't run on my effing feet, so I tried to tackle the garden to blow off some steam, but we live with heavy clay... and the $%^&* tiller stopped working. You gotta laugh, right? 

The Schedule

Piling on, child care this summer has been patched together with scotch tape and old chewing gum.  My father in law has been a tremendous help with the gaps but I feel like we've over-imposed and my calendar of who's where watching which child looks like a NASA flight plan.  The Boy at least got to go to some YMCA camps but The Girl... did not.  Which is a whole 'nother series of laments I'll spare you.  Out of desperation we just signed her up for two weeks of hippotherapy camp, which I've always wanted to get her into and am a bit giddy over, but I'm going to be a kidney shorter by the time it's over. 

Step Up for Down syndrome!

I think I'm most frustrated with myself - all of this is just so much first world, (sinking) middle class bullshit.  I mean, hell, we had an iPad and cars to break, right?  I have a job I mostly enjoy.  Why can't I keep hold of the joy and let rest roll off?  How did I let a needy corporate America worm its way into my head?  

Both my kids are healthy and thrilled to be spending so much time with their Papa*.  Matt's cousin's new baby was just diagnosed with leukemia and they've started a six month stay in hospital.  They would chew off their own legs to be worried about car transmissions and summer camps right now.  

I don't really have a solution - this is just me wondering what the **** is wrong with my head.  Look at these pictures - it's like a magazine spread of Must Do Summer Fun (most of these photos are also the ones that ended up on FB - should we talk about people putting up a pretty front?).  Arghhh.  I miss running. 

 *I should clarify Papa Fritz is pictured here because we saw him in NE, he stayed with us for a week, & helped The Boy build his rocket.  I am horrified to discover I have no pictures of the kids and Papa Jim.  Sorry Papa Jim!!!

Smorgasbord on Aging, Stress, and Working.

- Since Easter I've pulled 4 all nighters for the corporate gods and I'm still hyper ventilating in the morning at the sheer volume of shit that needs to get done.

- These days, an "all nighter" means staying up till 2-3am.  I really should have powered through till dawn 'cause I could have used those extra 3-4 hours but…  then I'd have keeled over and not had to worry about anything ever again.  Come to think of it, that sounds rather relaxing.

- I thought I was supposed to need less sleep as I got older?  I call bullshit.

- I miss you guys.  And I know it's the devil, but I miss you guys on FB too.  I'll be back soon.

- I did take a little time off ~ On Friday I took The Girl to Children's for her annual labs.  Fun stuff.  We were about 4 months early because for the first time in her entire life she got a nosebleed.  And then a second.  And then she fell asleep on the stairs. And then her teacher sent home a note about how abnormally tired she was.  I didn't say anything because I knew I was being ridiculous but if there is anything that could break us right now it would be leukemia.  Fiscally, emotionally…  I know people find a way, but bankrupt, unemployed, and heavily medicated to stop the shrieking was not on my bucket list.  (Her labs were fine so I was being silly and also, YAY!  Also?  I wonder how other people live when they don't feel constantly stalked by Death.  I assume they're happier, yes?)).

- The weekend was chock full of parties and playdates and swim lessons.  All great stuff but Matt had to work both days and my daughter spent all of Saturday demonstrating her very best elopement techniques near various busy streets so by Sunday I was looking forward to going back to work.  Hyperventilating over my mammoth corporation's money is exponentially easier than keeping my small child off the neighbor's front bumper.

- I took another half day yesterday to get a mammogram and Girl Check.  I'm sorry, I know you must be jealous of my lollygagging ways, but please note this is not the wrinkle-free, sag-free, mid-30s baseline "practice" mammogram.  Shit's gettin' real, yo.

- Many years ago I wrote this post about meeting my friend RK for the first time.  I opened with a line I was sure, ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN, came from a Mid-East class I took in school.  Except I've been watching old West Wing episodes at night because I don't have the emotional energy to invest in anything new and….  I am full of crap.  It was President Bartlett.  I'm sure Aaron Sorkin and/or my college prof were not the first people to have stumbled into this bit of wisdom but I now have the highly uncomfortable feeling that MY stumbling into said bit of wisdom did not come courtesy of my Stafford loans.  Since pretty much everything I know or believe seems to have originated with the WW series, I'm wondering if I could get my tuition back, please?

- I am the heaviest I've ever been, including those immediate postpartum days, and despite all the love yourself/don't buy into the media hype bullshit I'm full of self-loathing.  I have not suddenly taken to eating pans full of brownies by myself in the closet (though that is enticing), leaving age, stress, and the slow creep of the western civilization to blame.

- Compounding that fun is an epic, albeit self-diagnosed case of plantar fasciitis. Nothing starts my day of better than getting up out of bed and nearly collapsing to the floor.  Nothing helps fight Middle Age Spread than being unable to workout because my feet hurt because they're carrying too many pounds, preventing me from working out to lose said pounds.  Feeling young and vibrant I am not.

- I did sign up for a cheapie Parks & Rec yoga class. Matt might kill me for sneaking off twice a week but it would be soooo much worse if I didn't.  Because while I'm fairly certain this is Yoga Lite and it's not even challenging for a yoga-novice like me, it is amazingly relaxing and I leave feeling much less creaky.  I'm also leaving in that gorgeous late afternoon light amid all the spring bulbs my tax dollars bought, and it's just blissful.

- On my 2nd or 3rd session I'm pretty sure I fell asleep during the ending meditation bit.  I jerked awake and everyone else was already sitting up and the teacher was saying her goodbyes.  I think I should have been embarrassed but… it was weirdly nice.
And on that note I'm off to bed!

Smorgasbord

• I miss writing.  I've stumbled on seven or eight articles and posts lately on the joys of writing, how to write, how not to write, how to avoid writing… I think the universe is sending me a message.  It's nice that the message isn't catastrophe and mayhem for once.  

• The last few weekends have been chock full of various fun outings - cousin's birthdays, playgroups, & boy scouts.  Makes me feel like we're doing more than just dragging the kids along behind as we lurch from disaster to disaster.  There's a slim chance I might be exaggerating the level of chaos around here but it seemed rather grim there for a bit.

• The polar vortex finally broke, mere seconds before it broke us, and we went outside.  The fresh air and seeing the kids enjoy the fresh air was downright life affirming, even if the pictures are blurry.  

• I have amended my position on the boy scouts:  I resisted for years because I considered them a homophobic para-military organization, recruiting hordes of child soldiers minions with outdoor survival skills, but The Boy's BFF is involved and BFF's mom is a den mother and we need more low cost activities so I caved.  En route to our first event I gave The Boy the same speech I've given him about the Church which runs the school he attends, the gist of which is that they do some good stuff but they are wrong, really really wrong, about others, and every person should be able to marry anyone they want.  And it's not about religion but fear of the unknown and of difference.  I've been watching closely but there have been no overt attempts at brain washing and meanwhile we've built catapults, Pine Wood Derby cars, seen science demonstrations, and the boy is going bowling today.  (Maybe this is how the lure you in & the propaganda starts next year?)

• The girl deleted Proloquo2go off her iPad at school.  The teacher was very apologetic but NBD, I had backed up the extensive modifications we'd made, right?  BWAHAhahaha… whimper.  I'd thought about it.  In that way that I think we'll eventually get around to refinishing the wood floors, but Apple has not yet figured out how to read intent so I'm going to spend my afternoon reprogramming the damn thing.  And backing up. 

• This is old news but have you seen this Micos***t commercial from the Superbowl?  This deserves a separate post but I am very, very slowly coming to terms with the fact that my little girl is not going to be a talker.  As in not talk.  That Proloquo exists to be deleted off her easily-carried iPad, that it may allow her to move thru the world even without verbal skills, floors me.  I don't give a flying fuck if it's inspiration porn or an overtly cheesy attempt to shill for some corporate behemoth, I get teary. Every time.  Same way I get teary when I think about the millimeter sized piece of GoreTex they used to fix my girl's heart.  Some things are just GOOD, y'know? 

Ups and... Downs

Will that ever stop being funny?  

Lest anyone think all I've done is work the last two months, this is my catch up/ photo dump/ clinging onto the (mostly) happy moments post.

MAY: 

My son wanted a Minecraft party for his birthday.  Two-ish (?) days beforehand I realized the noble folks there have not yet sold out to corporate America.  Meaning there are no pre-packaged Minecrafty items available at major retailers.  And it was too late for Etsy.  Oh, fffuuuu.... 

I am NOT a crafty person.  Pintrest makes me itchy.  But bless their enormous pixels, Minecraft is all squares.  Surely I can manage that?

Butcher paper & a square brush, left over construction paper, and Rice Krispie/corn flake treats with cocoa & green food dye #37 for the Win!

I think he had a good time. (This was for his family party; the fiasco of his first official "friends" party is here.  The Girl's party will be in a couple weeks.  What's with the summer birthdays?)

JUNE:

We went to the annual Ds Walk/fundraiser but gave friends & family almost no notice so it was just the four of us.  The Girl was highly annoyed.  Possibly with her mother's pathological inability to plan ahead.  Also because we didn't let her stay on the slide all day.  Mean parents. 

But not to worry, we went to a street fair later that month and she was much happier.  This girl loves her selfies!  [The boy ditched us for his cousins]

JULY 4th:

Aunt Mary came to town, which was awesome.  We went to the sculpture park, which was grand.  One of my food experiments turned out beautifully (not pictured: the several that didn't and my kitchen, after).  And for the first time, my sound sensitive girl sat thru the fireworks and loved them, clapping and laughing and having a marvelous time.  I even posted something on facebook the next day about how much she'd grown up.

But as soon as I pressed enter I had that weird, unsettled feeling.  Could it really be that easy? 

Oh, fffuuuu.... 

Double ear infection. 

Fireworks are apparently even better when you can't hear the explosions.  

Whoops.

JULY, cont'd:

If you're new here, my husband works for an airline and we fly for free, but standby as "non revenue generating passengers".  No empty seats, no flight.  Thru trial and much error, we've figured out the basics - early morning flights are good, flying in the summer is bad, holidays are worse.  Trying to get somewhere by a certain time?  The gods will laugh.  

I need to remember that last bit.  Two weeks ago Matt and I went to Denver for the NDSC convention.  We got to the airport at 4:30 in the morning, as we should, and Matt got his 5am flight, no problem.  The twit was already in Denver napping before I had lunch.  I passed up the 5:30 to Chicago, hoping for the 6:30 direct to Denver because no way everyone shows up on time for a 6:30am flight.  HA!  Wrong!  So I took the 9:00 to Chicago but all the directs from there looked bad too so I ended up going thru Akron.  Akron, in case you're a bit fuzzy on American geography, is not in between Missouri and Colorado.  Eleven hours after leaving, a nearby mom pointed out the Mississippi to her kids as we flew over it. Eleven hours... to end up back where I started.  Yay!  

It could've been worse though - I missed Friday's events but arrived in time for dinner and didn't have to go thru Seattle or Portugal... or, horror, buy a ticket.  

Win???  

Don't hold me to those times - I think I went thru 3 times zones twice and it got a little fuzzy after Ohio.

Coming home I did everything wrong - late afternoon flight, out of a major hub, on a Sunday, during the summer.   Seventy shades of wrong.  The ticket agent on the first flight I tried openly mocked me.  The gal on the next flight out agreed to list me but I was #16 and the flight was full.  I started staking out the best corners of the airport to camp in.  But, lo, one person didn't show up and, in sweet but slightly co-dependent and defeatist fashion, none of the couples ahead of me in line wanted to separate.  Families may be the glue that holds society together, they may make all the other bullshit worth it but... ruthless isolationism for the win!  

One more reason why Matt and I don't fly together.  (That, and a wee bit of paranoia about orphaning my children.)

I can't let this end on an anti-family note, so here's a bonus picture of the kids at Ted Drewe's

Doesn't it seem like the summer should've involved more than one post?  School starts in ten days. 

Oh, fffuuuu....  

Back!

What's this?  A post?!?!  Hold onto your hats everyone, I know it's been a while.

Jeez, I hardly know where to begin or what to write about.  Apart from losing Maude, things have  actually been.... GOOD.  I know in writing that the universe will be forced to squash my exuberance by sending us more plumbing problems or a three year old hospital bill, but I'm going to try to enjoy it for a bit and, since y'all put up with my venting the rest of the time, I like to reassure you it's not always gloom & doom around here.

The Boy, with the electrical board he got for his birthday.
Hie thee to engineering school, young man!

Health?  The last come-get-your-kid call from daycare was a full two weeks ago.  That might almost be a record.  *I* have a snaky lingering cough but haven't missed work and it hasn't stopped me from running lately.

Which I have been doing!  After spending six months on the couch, I dug my running shoes out of the deep recesses of the closet, shook out the spiders, and applied liberally to my feet.  I've even moved (slowly) past that painful start up, single, 20 minute-I think I'm having a coronary-mile.  I'm not running as often, far, or as fast as I'd like, nor have I magically dropped 20#, but even my little somethin' is a vast improvement over the ass-widening last six months.  I might even sign up for another half marathon this fall, for a little motivation and to snag another T-shirt.  

NOT running shoes.
We were late for speech, I grabbed The Girl's sandal, and...
yeah. 

The weather has not helped with the running.  We're in the middle of a brutal heat wave, so most of my recent miles have been on the treadmill in the musty basement (which doesn't help the cough) - but we have been going to the pool almost every day I'm home.  The Boy can now swim underwater from one side of the pool to the other and the The Girl has been jumping into my arms from the ledge.  Today she even released her Grip of Death and bobbed around in her floatie (this is huge!).  Finding swim lessons has been a colossal FAIL but I'll resume the search on Monday.

Work?  I try not to write about it too much, especially since I may have been xxxxx enough to check this previously anonymous site from my work computer, but it had been, um, hard lately.  Really hard.  But there was a long conversation/general clearing of the air which broke the tension and, bizarrely - because it changed nothing - made me feel better.  I have less flexibility now - which really, actually, makes my life IMPOSSIBLE (see above, re: calls from daycare), but I can still work 4x10s, so am home on Wednesdays with the kids, and Matt's schedule is flexible, so we'll figure it out.  Ultimately, I really enjoy what I do and since I keep picking the wrong lottery numbers, this is the new normal.  So there.  Cryptic enough for you?

This is the best part:  in four-ish months my commute will be cut by more than half.  From 35 miles one way, to 15.  You know what that is?  TIME.  Precious, precious, life sustaining, family building, sanity preserving TIME.  90% of my kvetching here has got to be about work/life balance issues, yes?  But the great gods of Corporate America have just given me back 80 minutes a day.  80 minutes to spend with my children.  80 minutes to make them a dinner that doesn't come out of a box, to yell at The Boy about his homework, to work on The Girl's fine motor skills, maybe even work on potty training, to go running, to go on a bike ride with The Boy, to have a dance party with The Girl, to take them both out for ice cream, to unearth the vacuum cleaner, maybe even use it, and maybe even to go running with our e'er shedding dogs.  80 minutes to tuck the munchkins in and read them an extra story without stifling that voice in my head that's yelling, "SERIOUSLY!? JUST GO THE EFF TO SLEEP. I HAVE TO BE UP IN 6 HOURS."  80 minutes to check in with you guys, leave the occasional comment, and to maybe even spend some time with my husband.

OK.  I might need more than 80 minutes to do all that.  But for all that is sweet and glorious, it sure as hell helps.

[For all the eco-judgers out there, there was a whole string of decisions and factors that led us to buy where we did.  It wasn't because we hate Mother Earth and are trying to choke her with our gasoline emissions.  Not that you wouldn't know it by the oceans of gas we've been burning these last years.]

With Aunt Mary at MoBot during the Chinese Festival.
That Dragon is made out of... china.  Plates & cups, specifically:

What else?  This is the first weekend we haven't had visitors and/or fun things planned in six weeks.  Aunt Mary was here (when The Boy got sick on his birthday - boo!), Tima was here the following weekend (yeah!  rescheduled party!), I went to CA to see my little sister graduate high school (whaaa?), we went to the Lake of the Ozarks to celebrate my 40th birthday (*gulp*)... I think I'm forgetting something.  Oh yes!  Last weekend, in which the washing machine ran for 48 continuous hours because we hadn't done laundry in 5 weeks.  I think next weekend might be open but then.... WE ARE GOING TO THE NDSC CONVENTION IN DC!  I can't wait to meet you guys!  (Yes, even YOU).  Any fellow-eventers wishing to de-lurk, now's your chance.  Also, any other cheapskates skipping the big banquet, let me know - we're having a pizza party in our room on Saturday.

I still want to write about the graduation, I have a bunch of miscellaneous idle thoughts & tidbits on special needs I'm going to lump into one post, and at some point I will be forced to vent about the amount of money we're spending on private therapy this summer because Oh, Dear G*d, The Money... but then I will joyfully announce that WE HAVE WORD APPROXIMATIONS.

YES WE DO.

Last of the Randomness.

The ever lovely Starrlife posed some meme-y questions:  

1) What is a favorite memory from childhood?
Starting off light, are you?  As kids, we were forced-marched up Mt. Tamalpais, which is probably steeper and taller in my head than in reality, but when we reached the top the folks would buy us ice cream sandwiches from the little concession stand.  There's probably a morality tale in there about hard work and reward, but I just really really liked those ice cream sandwiches.  

2) If you could go anywhere in the world for a week where would you go?
Anywhere with a lounge chair and a nice boy to bring me drinks, rub SPF 175 on my back, and reposition the umbrella every 2 hours.  

Completely unrelated photo.
We are sadly not heading off to any place with a lounge chair in this shot,
but you wouldn't know it from this kid's grin. 

3) Some of your favorite two colors together/next to each other?
Periwinkle blue and brick red.  Saw it once on a little house nestled under some massive trees in Alaska.  It was charming.

4) What famous person would you like to spend time with, doing what?
My cabana boy, doing nothing except enjoying my lounge chair and umbrella drinks.  Then
I would write about him and post his picture on this very blog, where he would be seen by Uncle Mike, who would cast him in a movie.  He would then become rich and famous and remember me fondly, even after he later slid into drug use, cheap women, and his agent dropped him.  

5) Why did you start blogging?
Ha!  I started so Gigi could get her great-grandkids' photos more often.  Then I started writing little captions.  Which grew into longer captions.  Then I abandoned all pretense and called it mine.  One of the best things I've done in a while - I love y'all and this little online community.

6) What is  your astrological sign and what trait can you most relate to/reject?
Gemini - the twins.  One more "Ha!"  I can't even begin to list all the contradictions and ironies in my life... Blogging, for example.  5 years ago I would have sniffed something about public narcissism.  Now?  I have my very own URL (well, Blogger loaned me one, but same thing). 

7) Who was your best friend when you were in elementary school, tell us about them?
Gosh, I was such an awkward kid.  There was a whole string of girls but they were always moving or in a different class the following year and I spent a lot of time reading.  My mom, oddly, can rattle off all their names AND runs into their parents all the time.  That's not weird at all.  

8) Describe your most transcendent experience?
Not "most," just the one time. 

I must have been about 7 months pregnant and just found out my girl had Down syndrome.  Amid all the tears, I saw her.  And she was beautiful.  It was going to be OK.

Matt's the mushy one in this house and rank sentimentalism usually makes me itchy so call it insight, foresight, a sign from God, or some base mama bear instinct - doesn't matter.  It was magic.  I'll always be grateful for that moment.

Lucky girl.  

Me, that is.  Because I have her:

9) What was the first book that you ever remember reading?
The Old Man and the Sea.  No joke.  My dad wanted me to read the classics so in addition to the usual first grade material, he assigned Hemingway.  To a first grader.  Surprisingly, he didn't think I fully appreciated it on the first pass, so I had to re-read it several more times.  That I didn't turn into a rabid book-burner is one of the many mysteries in my life.   

10) How popular were you in high school?
Not at all (see #7) - but it might not have been as bad as I remember it.  Ignoring junior high, which was eating-alone-in-the-library HELLACIOUS, I had a group of good kids I hung out with, I was usually dating someone or other, and I remember some fun outings - camping on the beach, school dances, etc.  One of the guys I dated now works for the same humongous company I do, which I discovered accidentally one day while reading some notes in a file.  Funny stuff.  That said, I have zero desire to ever attend a high school reunion.  

11) Do you prefer white painted walls or colors?

There isn't a single white wall in our house so I think I'm going to have to say colors.  Pretty much any color - we have yellow, red, espresso, pastels - you name it.   My son's room is a deep blue with one construction-orange accent wall, to match his road sign decor.  It's enough to trigger a migraine but I love it.  We've been in this house 7 years though, and all the walls have been scraped to hell by tricycles, dogs, and the occasional flying lightsaber, so let's call them colored with a chance of drywall.

There!  I'm done!  Who knew I could manage to drag that out over 10 days?  Cheers!

Crackers Count Cloudy Community Conspiracies

What?  Should there have been commas in that header?  Sorry, no, this isn't actually going to be about white neighborhood militias.  Though that might be fun some other time.

Patrolling the subdivision:

Cracker Counting:
As a follow up to my last post about all the marvelous things my girl is up to, I forgot to mention the counting.  She has a mild cracker obsession and will request them periodically during mommy's computer time her Signing Time lessons but one cracker will no longer do.  She wants two.  And she is trying SO HARD to isolate that first and middle finger.  If I offer her one she pouts and starts working on her fingers and says something that sort of sounds like "doh".  You would not believe the smile I get when I then ask if she wants two - she has been Understood.  The best part is when I try to break the cracker in two - what toddler doesn't that work on?  Mine.  Her hearty appetite may be to blame but if I try that ol' trick there are sometimes tears.  Not that I enjoy making my child cry, but that kid knows two halves is most assuredly NOT TWO.  So proud.

Cloudy:
She also loves love loves her shadow.  Photos from our windy Wednesday walk without.

Community (Part II) and Conspiracies:
Despite years and years of muttering under my breath about the creepiness that is Facebook, I...
I...
(I signed up.)

Windy!  That's the feeling of free falling into the 21st Century.  

I think I mentioned I newly have access at work.  I STILL wasn't going to do it because Big Brother, blah, blah... But my manager forced my hand when she refused to look up any more plaintiffs for me (Privacy settings people!  Also, a suggestion:  If you want someone else to pay for your back surgery, don't post photos of yourself on the Mother of all Roller Coasters).  Ever since, I've found it to be an enormous time suck.  A deliriously compelling time suck, but a time suck all the same.  Someone please tell me the novelty wears off soon?  I've already looked up all the mean girls from high school and a couple exes, thinking that would be the end of it, but I started playing Words With Friends yesterday, and despite being well & truly trounced, I'm having a teensy bit of a problem walking away from the computer.  I had, actually, planned to ease into it (family only!) but Cate signed me up for a couple groups and Carrie sent me a gazillion friend "suggestions".  I didn't tell her this (hi Carrie!) but I was actually going to ignore them all, until it struck me that I have a public blog, fergawdssake, so why not?  Connecting with all those families - even if our families never meet up in Puerto Vallarta, we MAY still meet at a buddy walk or the NDSC conference (plug:  or at the fun run that you should still send an email about so that it happens!).  What a tremendous resource it will be for IEPs, therapies, etcetera.  Even if you/yours aren't sporting an extra chromosome, you never know when your flight might get cancelled in my fair city... or when you might need an ego boost by besting me in WWF.  So.  If you're reading and I haven't "befriended" you, and you don't have that same idealistic only "real friends" & family rule, send me an email & I'll tell you my real name.  (I still don't want to be google-able & am keeping the work/"real" life wall intact).  I promise I'll stop using air quotes around "friends" shortly.

Bonus photos:

Run!  Faster!  Or they'll figure out you're a suburban mom!!  Scary!

PS.  More than one person has expressed their, um, displeasure with blogger's new comment system so I'm going to try moderation/no verification for a bit.  Lemme know what you think.  

Smorgasbord

[Noonish:  edited to fix horrifying grammatical error. Yikes!]

~~~ We got the results of my girl's sleep study:  4.5 out of 5.  Which is apparently "significant," but not "severe."  The adenoids are nonetheless coming out.  I have to wonder what, say, a 4.72 would be - serious?  Does "serious" sound better or worse than "significant"?

They pointed out she never really got into a deep sleep (I KNOW.  I WAS THERE.  ALSO NOT SLEEPING) and if she did, they'd expect to see the sleep apnea to worsen.  At one point her blood oxygen got down to 89.  Last time it got down below 90, the pediatrician offered an ambulance to get us to the hospital for RSV.  Fabulous.

~~~ I've never joined F*cebook.  Every time I considered it, there'd be some spat of news about obnoxious privacy lapses.  Linkedin already creeps me out because they know my email address at work and track the other people who are already on there who've emailed me and then it sends me invites (hey! you might know *random plaintiff counsel* who emailed you that work thing?).  At least that seems to be how it works.  I assume *random plaintiff counsel* isn't actively trying to befriend me. 

My excuse was that I couldn't (nor shouldn't) access FB at work and my limited online time should be spent updating this here blog or reading yours.  Also because I enjoy complete sentences & there are no issues of my family bumping up against work people or my inlaws on my wall.  Not that I have any idea how it works, but it seems poised for confrontational worlds colliding. 

Except the people that pay me have bowed to the 21st century and are letting us on.  So am reconsidering. Again.  I know I'm the LAST person in the world not enrolled (enlisted?  entrapped?) so I don't expect anyone to tell me not to do it but still...  Google already knows so so so very much about me - who I email, what (& who!) I google, where I travel (Google maps!  Necessary since I've gotten lost in my own subdivision), turning all that over to a second company, especially a second company that only reluctantly lets you keep your status private, seems iffy.  Or I might be completely paranoid.  If I start lining the basement with lead and buying flats of canned goods, call someone.

~~~ We need to switch speech therapists.  There were scheduling issues and she was going to try to work something out but I haven't heard from her in 2 weeks.  That sucks. 

~~~ I have mixed feelings about the upcoming ABR (sedated hearing test).  One the one hand, if her non-verbal-ness is because of her hearing, and we can fix it?  Awesome.  Getting her to wear hearing aids?  BAHAHAHAHA.  Also?  It strikes me a bit as just ONE MORE THING.  One more set of specialists.  One more set of follows ups every year. One more possession to keep track of (we just went 16 rounds over a library book the school sent home with my girl.  Matt swore we never got it.  I found it months later under a seat in his car).

But if it's not hearing loss, then the not-talking is developmental and... that just sucks too.  She communicates, through signs (lots of signs!), pointing, and pushing/pulling you over to where she wants you but has also taken to yelling if something is not as she pleases.  And that is not good for mommy's equilibrium.  Girl has a set of lungs on her and she's loud.  It also makes me a little sad, that she's so frustrated with her limited communication she's taken to yelling.

~~~ I've dropped off my boulder-dash daily but here are two from this weekend:  Finally breaking out the "build a pulley/crane" set from Christmas and putting it together for with my son.  Made myself put down my book and actually BE there with him.  Well worth the sore fingers from those obnoxious tiny pieces.  Especially since he's still running all over the house looking for things to lift with his new crane. 

Two:  Because I care nothing for my son's nutritional needs, we did a fast food run.  He asked how french fries were made.  After a few more bites he thoughtfully agreed that he could almost taste the potatoes in them.

21/31 for 21 Snacks (instead of a smorgasbord)

Tidbits that I haven't worked in anywhere else:

~  Line from the movie Contagion, seen last Saturday with my brother:
"Blogging is not writing. It's just graffiti with punctuation."

~  My girl, on the elevator, at our appointments on Tuesday:  She let go of my hand when we got on, because she's a big girl now.  But then it started moving, and instead of crying - which is what she used to do, poor thing, elevators terrified her - she came back over, carefully took my hand, and then stood on her tiptoes. I guess to minimize that ground-giving-way feeling?  When we stopped she laughed, presumably with relief that we'd arrived safely.

~  My son, who let me pick the book tonight and actually seemed to enjoy Yertle the Turtle.  Which, by the way, should rank right up there next to 1984 in terms of anti-authoritarian works. 

~  And this.  We get a tiny rebate on our health insurance premium if we fill out a health questionnaire.  Some of my answers must have been wrong. 

In case it's too small to read, it says my stress level is "low" 
Survey FAIL.

11/31 for 21 Eleven Things

11 Things about my daughter:

1.  She has two middle names, as does her brother, and both uncles. My sisters and I only have one apiece.  Hurrumph.  The extra initial online(krlR) is courtesy of my husband (though not legally applicable) - I might be suffering from residual childhood jealousy.  Dad said he didn't think about it till later. 
2.  Her favorite songs are 5 little monkeys in a tree, Twinkle Twinkle, Row Row Row Your Boat, and Ring around the Rosie.
3.  I did not teach her Ring around the Rosie, because I once heard it was about the Black Plague and so I always considered it a little morbid.  Nonetheless, she's very cute as she very carefully falls down.
4.  She loves playing with my hair but is getting a little aggressive about undoing my ponytails.  Man, that hurts.
5.  She's had 3 surgeries:  one on her heart and two on her eyes.  We're hoping she doesn't make 4.
6.  She's sick again.  I don't think a mommy blog is a mommy blog till you talk about poop, but I don't really have the constitution for it right now (ha!).  I am just befuddled by the lack of other symptoms and the sporadic, occasional nature of it.  She's seeing her pediatrician tomorrow.  I will NOT consult Dr. Google.

7a.  Her favorite books are The Bear Snores On (Karma Wilson), Moo, Baa, LaLaLa, Blue Hat Green Hat, But Not the Hippopotamus (all Sandra Boynton), two books by Kate Toms, Goodnight Moon, and The Big Red Barn.  She likes other books too but will occasionally, randomly reject them.  These are sure things.  She anticipates a lot of the 'action' scenes & sort of signs along with me. 

7b.  I have not come up with a good way to sign & read to her at the same time, since she insists on sitting in my lap (facing the book & away from me).  I figure the snuggling and reading-while-pointing to things is also developmentally important. 

7c.  Not that my signing is a good translation anyway.  I mostly hit the key words I've remembered to look up.

7c.  Sometimes I just want to read and snuggle with her and not worry about the other stuff. 

8.  She can't isolate her pinkie finger yet so when she signs "what's wrong", "telephone", or "play", she uses her index and thumb instead.  I find this marvelously scrappy of her. 

9.  She is, however, getting her pinkie halfway up when she signs "I love you".  I find this marvelously endearing. 

10.  She's starting to stomp her feet when she gets mad.  This is only a little bit endearing. 

11.  When she gets home at the end of the day, she immediately requests Signing Time and will watch it till dinner's ready.  This is a massive improvement over earlier when she would stand in the middle of the kitchen and cry till dinner was ready. 

[I just checked Dr. Google.  I should not have done that.  CRAP!]

7/31 for 21 Smorgasbords & Hors d'ouevres.

I worked late again tonite and got home at 9.
NINE.  That's crazy.  I just do not know how to cram the 60-80 hrs/week necessary into the 40 hours that's reasonable.

My husband is watching the Cardinals in game 5 of 5 in the playoffs and is muttering under his breath and at the TV, and occasionally pacing.  I asked what inning it was like a silly girl and he snarled, "Just don't talk to me right now".  He's not usually like that.

My son is asleep on the couch, next to his daddy.
He went to Dairy Queen today and got a milkshake, half of which he saved in the freezer for tomorrow (how many 6 yrs do that?  *I* can't do that!).  He ordered a pumpkin milkshake because Matt told him it would be safe because Mommy doesn't like pumpkin.  Twerp.  Fall can be difficult that way.

Matt said he's found my daughter in the cubby of her bookcase two mornings in a row now.
I'll try to get a picture tomorrow.  I have a post in the works about school and will try to get it down this weekend (hint:  it's better!)

I was recently lamenting about keeping up with this 31 for 21 thing and said I was going to resort to haikus and Bartlett's Familiar Quotations soon.  I was totally joking at the time but....
Yeah. 

So Bartlett's index for "down" is more effort to explore than I'm prepared to exert right now but I turned to the page of my girl's birthday instead and it was perfect: 

First, Gene Fowler:  Writing is easy. All you do is stare at a blank [screen] until drops of blood form on your forehead. 

Second, multiple quotes from Charles de Gaulle, who also had a daughter with Down syndrome.  Serendipity, defined.  This post, from Patricia Bauer's now quiet blog, was one of the first I read after learning about my daughter's little extra.  It has always stayed with me.  It ends with:

This young woman’s life was a constant reminder of the dignity and value of vulnerable people, a message delivered like an arrow to the heart of one of the twentieth century’s most influential men. I would like to think that Charles de Gaulle may have found in Anne an exhortation to stand up for what is right in the face of overwhelming public ignorance and cruelty. Perhaps, just perhaps, she helped to change the course of history.

[The permalink doesn't seem to be working, so I set it up under 'history' tab. Date of the original post was 6/4/07]

[Oh and we won!  Turns out this is a BIG DEAL!  Love the Pujols]

Hey strangers

The danger of not posting regularly is that all those bloggable moments build up so when you do, finally, get a chance to use the family's one computer* you have to cram two weeks of material down into one post that's too long for anyone to read.  Or I could, ya'know, start writing regularly again and catch up but that would make too much sense.
*Parts for MY computer have allegedly, if belatedly, been ordered.  My absence hasn't all been Matt's fault though - too many Saturdays and late nights at work lately. 

~ School.  Ah, yes - school.  This will require a separate long post.  I did write a snarky piece about a semi-official email that lacked some necessary possessive apostrophes but I was just being mean & my fear of said post being found by said official conscious got the better of me.  The short version is that we're struggling.  There are unprecedented tears in the classroom (my girl's, not mine, though I've been close), the grammar police are shocked - Shocked! - by recent crimes against the English language, and I've decided we need to do more on our own but paying for private therapy is...ouch.  We'll hopefully soon be able to look back at this as a (painful) transition period but it's a mess right now.

~ On the other hand, my boy seems to be doing pretty well.  Though his teacher is all over him about his handwriting & cutting/gluing skills. Which I understand from the fine motor skills perspective, but she clearly hasn't seen either one of his parents' handwriting. "Messy scrawls" would be generous.  "Illegible scribbles" is probably more accurate. The poor kid is doomed. 

Also, he has a new friend who goes to after care with him & they are having such a grand time there together, he has actually rejected a couple offers to be picked up early.  This is such a tremendous relief.  He didn't enjoy summer camp towards the end and nothing triggers crushing mommy guilt like sending your kid somewhere he doesn't want to go because you don't have other options.

Side note:  I haven't yet met his new friend but when I was picking him up one day a little kid ran up to us and chatted for a second before running off again.  I asked if that was New Friend but he said no, New Friend has brown skin.  Awwww.... we live in a WHITE suburb and I've fretted a bit about the lack of diversity but here my boy was proving we didn't need to move.  I relayed this to Matt who has met New Friend, and he started chortling. New Friend, apparently, simply has a summer tan.  Oh. wow.

More asides:  I'm not too sure what to make of my reaction, above.  Isn't it reverse racism to be pleased about my son's choice of friend, sight unseen, just because he might have had "brown skin"?  Hmm.

Last aside:  I was telling my SIL this and she told me her (other) nephew had told his mom one of the girls in his class was from Africa.  Not African-American, "from Africa".  She was horrified, presumably launched into a civics/social/language lesson, only to find out the kid really had moved here from an undisclosed country in sub-Saharan Africa.  Funny!

And one last boy story:  He was playing one day and had spun a whole story about a hardware shop that also sold pies made by special machines and he was running in & out of my room picking up new machine tools and delivering pies.  On one of his trips he announced he was leaving to visit his mom at work (um, hello?).  "So who am I?"  "You're grandma."  Yesterday he told me I have old hands.  Oh. wow. Way to cut where it hurts, buddy - Yes, I get it. Too much worky-worky lately, time is fleeting, and now you're grounded. 

~ My BEST story (In Real Life dates!  Half Marathons! Elvis dancing!) deserves its own post but the kids are currently occupied so I'm going to hit publish and keep writing.  Nothing for two weeks and two posts in one day?  I have awesome time management skills!

Crocodiles in the Waves

Where to start?  School has... begun.  I might still be a little on edge about the idea since I had a crisis of faith when reading one note sent home by a teacher that needed more punctuation.  Much more punctuation.  I have to think how to spell 'necesary' and 'grammar' and 'calendar', and don't always get it right, and blogging doesn't exactly reinforce a rigid code of complete sentences (*cough*) but this is a teacher. She should be able to diagram sentences in her sleep!  Or I might have been looking for reasons to find fault, since she has been entrusted with my child's mind and physical safety and there is just no way she could ever, ever be good enough.  Hmmm.  Whaddya think?

A clue.  In case y'all didn't get it either. 

Speaking of diagramming sentences, one of the new kids at work needed a letter approved by his supervisor. He was joking about her using her (tiny ballpoint) red pen and, in what I thought was a brilliant piece of timing, I handed him the giant red Sharpie I conveniently had in hand and said, "That's not a red pen, THIS is a red pen".  He didn't get it.  One more sign I am working with children.  Maybe if I became an actual teacher I'd have an excuse to use my giant red Sharpie AND I wouldn't feel bad about being 159 years older than everyone else in the room.  Apparently diagramming sentences is no longer a requirement.

And in another sign I might still be a little worked up about school (and that I shouldn't leave the TV on all night during Hurricane Coverage), I woke up the other night with my heart pounding because I dreamt (yes, I know, Dream Post Alert!  Sorry!) that we were at the beach and the kids were swimming in the waves and then they just disappeared.  [Actually, weirder, only one was missing but I wasn't sure which one] I dove under, swam around, couldn't find them - you know, your standard kids-are-missing-panic-dream.  In the light of morning, the beach and school aren't obviously connected but something about sending them out into the world & waves alone. 

Jeez, what with all the keening & kvetching around here you'd think my kids are the first ones in the country not to be homeschooled!  And no, even with all my fretting and cheap Freudian dreams, even I know that would be a terrible idea.  They need to meet different people with different perspectives, different repetoires -  people who teach her, for example, crocodile songs. [Ha! Too much? Couldn't resist!] 

Anyway, we have some logistical issues to work out.  There was a minor bus issue that left me leery & I hate that my kids are in daycare for 10 hours a day.  I'm trying to get back to a 4 x 10hr/day schedule so they're only in their respective baby jails 3 days a week (Matt gets Fridays off - we'd have a full-family day on Saturday) - Which is also partial explanation for my long catch-up hours at work and absence here - I missed you guys!  Am off to tackle my reader's 200+ items.... 

Sabotage! and Schedules

This week has just kicked me in the rear.  I started this post last night and gave up after rewriting the same paragraph for the 3rd time.  No particular reason, I just felt like a bug squished on a dirty windshield.  I have a long post that I've been wanting to write all week but I couldn't pull it together and now only have a little time before my niece's birthday - so y'all're getting more smorgasbord.  [Is this why people tweet?  Consider these long trial tweets.  I knew I'd get sucked in eventually.  Who wants to bet I'll be on facebook by Christmas?]

~~~ My brother & the rest of the family finally came back from their wildly long exotic sailing trip.  I didn't mention they were gone because I didn't want my internet addiction to be blamed if their homes were robbed*, but it's been terribly quiet these last few weeks.  My brother & I either have similar work tempos or the same level of ADD because we email.  A LOT.  Instead, I sent out sad little missives to random other people who didn't think I was nearly as funny as he does and who don't think emailing back & forth 37x a day is normal.  This bit, of course, is in no way intended to guilt him into getting thru the 400+ emails he mentioned so he can start entertaining me at work again.
     *Except they were anyway.  Maybe not so much "robbed", as shenanigans with the cat sitter who crashed my baby sister's car, but drama nonetheless.  And she gave him the keys, which was an allegedly questionable call.  And her insurance carrier just offered her twice what she paid for the thing.  And there's that whole "exotic sailing trip" thing.  So you have my permission not to feel sorry for her.  (Sorry, C!)

~~~ In the last nine days, I managed to miss my niece's, my sister's, AND my sister in law's birthdays because I am a terrible, terrible person.  We mailed my son's lovingly crafted cards (Ha! Though those were late too, natch) but I forgot to call on the actual days thereof.  It was made tragic when I emailed the family a not-at-all subtle hint thereabouts, perhaps even on of one of their actual birthdays, about my daughter's desperate need for more Signing Time DVDs, in celebration of the 3rd anniversary of HER arrival into this world.  Except that auspicious day is weeks away.  Nice.  They will be getting their very own birthday posts & haikus forthwith.  Happy Belated Birthday Everyone!

~~~ I'm now convinced Matt is trying to sabotage my blogging career.  After trying to make my laptop die faster, he did finally get it running again (and I'll concede it was zippier) but his Dexter-like tendencies got the better of him and on Wednesday he dumped a glass of chardonnay on it.  We now have a new no drinking and (hard-)driving rule.  It dried for two days and he swears it'll work just fine - as soon as we hook up the spare monitor and order a new keypad.  I wanted to keep the current one as it smells like butter (with hints of citrus and pear) but its little circuits seem to have fermented.  Also, the whole point of a laptop is that it's portable - usb cables and separate screens remind me of work.  The laptop lets me kick back in bed with pillows and a glass of win...  oh. 

~~~ And last, as much fun as continuously complaining about my lack of sleep & funky running times would be, I'm going to try a Brand New Schedule.  I even wrote it out (what can I say? I'm a geek visual learner).  I've been staying up later & later (& getting to work later & later) and my TV watching had skyrocketed because I'd be wide awake after running at 10pm and trying to wind back down.  I just gave away all my books in January because I didn't have time to read anymore - yet I've recently found myself at 12:30 in the morning on my third House*.  T.R.A.I.N. W.R.E.C.K.   We'll see how this works - stay tuned for another thrilling edition of Suburban Working Mom Trying to Do It All!
     *In the theme of always being late to the party, WHY didn't I start watching this sooner?  I love-love-love the one offs.  The random statistically impossible events which make me tick are the entire theme of the show!  Actually I do know why...  I have my very own brilliant-yet-difficult people in my life (hi dad!) and the first show I watched, when I initially decided (wrongly) that I didn't like it, just came up in repeats, and it involved a pregnant woman and sick baby.  Blech. That one was deleted.  But the rest?  Fun!

Miscellanea

~~~One of my favorite shows is In Plain Sight which I started watching because I love anyone from West Wing and because Mary McCormack's character is delightfully snappy.  She's pregnant on the show (google reveals she is in real life too) and since I'm home this afternoon with Mystery-Rash Boy, I caught up with my DVR.  Scene with the doctor:  "You're over 35 and high risk [because of your] Advanced Maternal Age..." 
*sigh* 
I hate it when my diversions come crashing into my realities.

~~~Mystery-Rash boy either has a severe & systemic reaction to a random bottle of sunscreen, or he has strep (AGAIN!?) except the rapid strep test was negative, except they aren't 100% accurate and it takes 48 hours to cultivate the "real test", or it could be one of a gajillion other "viral rashes".  The urgent care doc didn't seem overly interested in the answer last night.  I'm thinking it's the first option because he's certainly not acting sick (though he looks like he was scrubbed with sandpaper) and the first option will also allow me to go back to work tomorrow - though this will severely curtail his sunscreen options going forth.  I'm whiter than rice & passed along those genes to the poor kid, so this is not an inconsequential concern.

~~~Matt ruined my computer.  We now have to order a "recovery disc" which may or may not work.  Grrrr.  He's supposed to be the techie half of this partnership.  [Non family friendly joke about him no longer being allowed to touch my hard drive].

~~~After all my hand waving about my skirted suburban mom bathing suit, we got the Landsend catalogue shortly thereafter and there were skirts!  And more skirts!  My apologies to Target for not realizing they were more with it than I am, apparently.  [Though it still feels wrong.]

~~~We moved the end table.

It's a Wascally Wainy Day.

Individual
Educational Plan Is
Not my girl, Defined

IEP, letters
Three. Words of Dread?  Yes Indeed.
Eff Bureaucracy. 

I. Am more than words.
Extraordinary Me! 
Paper pushers, y'all. 

I'm assuming y'all is one syllable? 

I do believe this is textbook avoidance behavior.  Obviously, the IEP was today.  More later - maybe.  No surprises, no drama, just ill defined, poorly understood feelings of blech. 

Blechity-blech-blech-Blah. 

In other news:
Matt took my camera to work to document tornado damage and failed to return it, so am waiting on the kindness of family for Easter photos.  Worst case scenario, I'll do some laundry and Recreate the Day, not that I would ever confess to stooping so low.  Surely there's a joke in there somewhere about Easter Outfits  rising anew?  I am surely going to hell. 

On a bright note, my car radio did rise again and is working just fine [I am SUCH a heathen], despite the bottle of water I dumped on it, so that's one less bit if broken electronics.  To compensate, my little jug of milk for coffee at work exploded in the car this morning so now my fellow commuters can also enjoy my functioning radio because I have the windows down so I don't gag on the lovely eau de rank cow.

Aren't I charming tonight?  Just so you know it's not all hell & brimstone over here, my son & I read Amelia Bedelia together tonight - When Amelia made lemon pie for the Rogers, he added that Gigi makes really good lemon pie too and he would like some more and when are we going to see her again?  Adorable.

Then he pointed at the fox stole on Mrs. Rogers and asked what it was.  Ummmm....  I really don't want to ruin the book for him because he associates it with lemon pies and Gigi, and he is doing a spectacular job reading it himself, so "That is a Dead Fox She is Wearing Around Her Neck"  didn't seem appropriate.  Telling him it was a Pet Fox seemed disingenuous (and he'd probably want to know why it didn't have a bigger role in the story).  I went with Pretend Fox.  Best I could do on the fly.

And last, in a sign I need more sleep - my boy periodically has to gather objects for "letter bags" at school.  For the A bag, you toss in an Apple, Alligator, Altoid tin - you get the idea.  He had fun doing this in preschool but he's reading Amelia Bedelia now, so I think the moment may have passed, but whatever, the school year is almost over.  This morning we did 'W'.  [Normally I wouldn't help him with this but it was one of Those Mornings and I forgot to have him do it last night].  So I'm pointing out the Watermelon (plastic picnic piece), Windmill (Geotrax), Whale, Wacecar....

Notes from a weekend

My girl refuses to nap at daycare so on half the days I pick her up she falls asleep in the car on the way home.  I always feel a little guilty not waking her up for dinner but if I can get her unbuckled, inside, through the herd of welcoming beasts, changed, and she's still asleep, then - um, yeah - let the poor girl rest. 

Friday her head bobbed in the car but she stayed awake long enough to reach the dinner table - where she promptly put her head down on the table in the middle her food.  Bedtime!  Which left me & her brother to roam the travesty that is our back lawn (we have THREE dogs) in the setting sun and to plan a movie night.  Good times.  Getting changed he said, "I'm going to put on my Mario pajamas for special nights like movie nights but if they aren't clean then I'll just wear my Christmas pajamas 'cause Christmas pajamas are special too".  

His $9.99 Mario PJs from Target, bought after we were stranded in LA, are his prized possession of the moment.  Deprived child, much?  His comment also appears to have referenced the state of our laundry pile but I'm pretending I didn't catch that. 

I wish I had a voice recorder - how odd would it be to tape a mic to your kid?  I want to do a better job of remembering his funny little comments.  I suppose that's what this space is for. 

Right now he's playing Club Penguin next to me singing "Spring is here, spring IS hheeeerrreee", while we wait for his sister to finish napping.  Earlier he asked if plants need rocks (see above re:  the travesty that is our back yard).  I said no, they need dirt, water, & sun.  "And love?"  (which he is still asking, albeit sadly less often). Yes buddy, and love.  Adore that kid. 

Turns out I did have a few extra vacation shots after all.  These are the last ones - promise!

Bruiser!