Talking

Heh, he's starting to say stuff!

What We've Been Up to This Summer

We taught Cortland how to swim in a tube of water.

Or not. Actually it's the Ft Worth Childrens Museum.

Grandma and C on a dinosaur dig

Giant train set

In KS we went swimming at my cousin Sherry's house.

And put together puzzles... sort of...

And played with REAL tractors!

And had a slumber party with four nine year olds and a little boy. The little boy isn't in the picture because he is behind me (the photographer) with a water hose. Bet you can't guess what happened next.

Dane and Cortland ate sunflower seed shells from the ground around the bleachers at a ballgame. *Gack*

Just plain worn out.

We've adopted a lady named Ludy and she is wearing a scarf I knitted.

We painted the kid pink.

No one was more surprised than Cortland when he started getting in his horns.

It's been a great summer!

All Better

Some crazy person let me have the camera when I was in the hospital. My mom said she came from KS so fast that she forgot to pack her makeup. She looked beautiful anyway.

Isn't Alan cute?

I got the cutest flower arrangement ever from Tanya.

And here's a pic of the real thing. She still thinks the chair my mom brought for C is hers.

I'm feeling so much better. I am feeling so much better, in fact, that it's good that Tasha and two of her kids came to stay last week to keep me off my feet. Her kids are amazing and Cortland had the best time with them. And I had a wonderful time having my friend all to myself.

The boys were inside when Maddie made this wonderful castle. Of course they were. It would have been dead before she even began otherwise.

Bad Patient

Life is peachy. Here are some of the highlights (and low-lights).

My mom was here for a week helping out keeping all the laundry clean as well as the kitchen and kid. She also rubbed my back, brought an endless supply of peanut M&M's and was an all around great cuddler. (Thank you so much, mom. You have no idea what it meant to us to have you here.)

My son thought every time she walked into the room meant that his mommy was being shipped off to Cambodia for a few more days without him, so he wanted nothing to do with her. She took it better than I did.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I look around and see all of the stuff I want to be doing. Knitting. Sewing. Going through the junk drawer. Scrapbooking. Reading.

My head has hurt so bad for the last four days that all I really manage to do is take random assortments of drugs every 6 hours and try to pretend that it's normal to cock my head to the side like a camel with a sand flee stuck in its ear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was cleared Friday to take baths and anyone who knows anything about me knows I loooooove my baths. Showers are for heathens and very muddy people.

I just got out of a shower instead of a bath because the thought of moving my shampoo and conditioner the 10 feet to the tub was just too much to bear.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I lost 15 lbs in 4 days.

It was all water weight from the surgery and it involved endless middle of the night trips to the bathroom. And I still have the real 5lbs to lose that I just.freaking.lost. You know, the 5 hardest pounds in the history of mankind to lose? That I worked really, really hard to make go away just a few short months ago? F*****S

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm getting in touch with my emotions.

Alan hasn't filed divorce papers, yet, (right Alan?) on the grounds of his wife has gone flipping nuts. Crying is the new black.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please no chin-up little buckeroo comments. I need to hear a few, "I feel you girl." and "are you having to deal with this shit too?" comments. I need a little solidarity right now. I will cowboy up all by myself, I'm sure. After all, I am little Miss Pollyanna 90% of the time.

So how about it? Come on Kim, tell me about the cooler of water left by the side of the bed after Elise was born. Linda, let me hear a little something about your torture after your recent surgery. Anyone have any gory wound stories? Mom? Care to share about the time your guts came out of your belly button? Anything for your darling, right?

The Case of the Reappearing Fallopian Tube

Today I'm home from the hospital. Some might know that I was pregnant, but few know that Saturday Alan took me to the emergency room with abdominal pain. Yup, another ectopic.

Wish I could remember the name of the dr who did my 1st ectopic surgery and what he actually removed when he said he took out my right fallopian tube because, funnily enough, that's the exact same tube that was removed Saturday along with my right ovary. WTH? Dr. Wells also tied my left tube while he was hanging out in my insides Saturday so we won't have to mess with this again. He called it retied since it looks like that was what the dr from my 2nd ectopic basically did which he called repairing my tube.

Alan and I weren't trying or preventing getting pregnant. We knew there was a big chance that getting pregnant again might mean another ectopic. But we didn't think it through very carefully. We didn't think all the way through what an ectopic might mean. Death to the mother. Shit. We just thought as far as another baby.

I thought getting my remaining tube tied would be sad and feel like giving up a dream but it isn't. It's such a relief, knowing I'll be here for my son and husband who are my world and not dead because I waited too long to get to the hospital and bled to death.

My mom is here taking good care of me and Alan has been within touching distance at all times. I am so lucky t have such wonderful friends and family.

Talking Back

Cortland has been doing great with his therapy. While in KS for 2 weeks he mastered M, P, O and B. This week our homework was to use Bee and Bow and Bye and Boo if Bee and Bow went good. It's not going so as good as expected. I say, "Say Bee." and he says, NO, NO!" and runs away.

I've tried everything I can think of. Say Bee before opening the back door. Whatever. He then just doesn't want to go outside anymore. I drew a bee on the milk carton and tried to get him to say Bee before he could have milk. He thinks I'm crazy because Duh, that's obviously milk and not a bee.

I've tried playing find the bee in the book. I've put bees in the trains. I've tried singing silly songs. I've buzzed around the house with him looking at me like I've gone loony on him.

I know he can say it because he has said it with his grandma. But he's not applying it to an actual bee.

Forgot to mention he has a motor-speech delay. He understands everything we say, he just can't get his brain to make his mouth talk back.

Bad Account. No No Account.

No idea why my blog pops up with a "Bad Account" message. Unless it's referring to grammatical errors. Then I totally get it.

Florida

I think this was Wine Night. Cathy and David; Here's to you!!!!!





ps - remind me to kick Alan in the knee for recording me in a swimsuit.

Videos for the Grandmas

More Pictures

Laying down watching TV and looking just like his daddy.

Playing with finger paints. Not my favorite activity, but C seems to enjoy it!

A pic of the new playset.

Grace Ann taking a nap while Alan watches basketball.

Prison Work Study in the Philippines

Letter to Aunt Joyce

Letter to my Aunt in response to her email:

Dear Aunt Joyce,

(Personal personal personal... (go check your email for this stuff))

I've been concerned about Cortland for a while. The pediatrician said to just wait and see - up until our last visit in January when he found out that C still hadn't said mommy (he said mom once and I haven't heard it since and boy, have I been listening for it!) and didn't point to things he wants or needs. Like milk, juice, food... You know how a mother just "knows" when there's something not right? Yeah, that's how I felt.

So we called ECI, a county program that evaluates young children and recommends a course of action. He started speech therapy with Jen in February, and it has made a discernible difference. No consistant talking yet, but we get pointing now, and he's doing lots more back and forth playing with us. He's communicating and that's huge. He's even had a few temper tantrums. heh. Who in their right mind would be thrilled about that?! Me, that's who.

Jen brought in an occupational therapist because she noticed that he has low muscle tone. Jen said that the low muscle tone exacerbates the no speech thing. He can't turn door knobs; he sits in a W; he lays on the floor to push cars back and forth for very long periods of time; his tongue still peeps out of his mouth when he's in a relaxed state (which is often); he will stay reclined on the couch for hours if we would let him.

******ETA - Wow, rereading this makes my child sound like a potato! He's totally not! He smiles and runs around and pushes his shopping cart and all kinds of kid stuff. He loves to color and draw on his easel and paint and play with play-do and dig in the dirt and run on the playground.... The things listed in the paragraph above and the rest of the post below are just the trouble-spots! Not the whole-spot. Holy-cow. He's not a little lump by any means!

Jen also brought in a social therapist for lack of eye contact, not responding to his name (which he is responding to much more now), and not interacting with people around him. He will play with stuff but, if you really observe, when playing with him he doesn't often follow you around to see what you're doing.

As much as I would like to think that's just his personality, it's not typical for a toddler and following and imitating us is how toddlers learn. If he's not imitating and showing any interest in what we're doing, (ie. getting under our feet when we're trying to sew, cook, knit, scrub floors) then he isn't learning all he needs to. He likes to be in his own little world.

That's not to say he doesn't act like a kid. He does engage sometimes. He is so pleasant, in fact, that I wondered if a social therapist was even necessary. I LOVE how easy a kiddo he is, Only problem is that he isn't supposed to be this easy!

I know, crazy to want to mess with a good thing. But he is easy because he's not engaging with the real world and just because we like the whole can-leave-him-in-a-room-and-know-he-won't-mess-with-anything thing doesn't mean that's what's best for him.

He needs to have the natural curiosity of a toddler. He NEEDS to get into stuff and challenge authority and all of the other stuff kids do or he won't learn what he's supposed to be learning right now.

He is the absolute sweetest little boy. And someday soon I hope he will give me a hug and call me mommy. That he will reach up for me when I come to his room in the morning to get him out of bed. That when I pick him up he will wrap his legs and arms around me and hold on tight. But those things can't happen without also opening the door to all of the other typical characteristics of two year olds.

I'm good with that. I look forward to the day that I can't sit next to him and knit for 1 1/2 hours with him never tryig to steal my needles and mess with my yarn or even trying to get my attention. I am willing to trade that hour and a half if it means that Cortland will be engaged in life around him.

Love you Aunt Joyce and thank you for your caring.

Skye

Summertime!

Cortland and Lucas playing in the water.

Cortland's World

This little boy right here:

Has a trifecta of therapists.

This is hard for me, not so much for C. Of course that's what the What Therapist is for. She's the one I don't think C and I are going to like much. Her job is to teach me how to pull Cortland out of his world and into ours. (And she said if he won't come out, then we are just going to invite ourselves into his for awhile.)

Everyone has an opinion on this and I think that's why I haven't posted about it before now. I don't want to have my thoughts validated or debated. I just need to stew for a bit.

I know Alan and his mom opine that the therapists are just covering all their bases (asses) and maybe going a little overboard. I hear what Marla is saying when she points out that it's the therapist job to look for even the slightest out of normal range issues and address them - even the smallest little things. And I respect that Alan doesn't think, as he says. "C is that much different than other 2 year olds."

But it's scary when I'm the only one who hears the therapist relate in what way my baby is a titch off center. Hell, I already know because I get to see every. single. day. how he is different from other kids his age.

He is so happy and funny and wonderful in so many ways. Just if only he would let me in to see his secret.

As my mom said, it feels a little like I've unleashed the Furies.

Tsunami Video

The tsunami in Japan from the ground.

Things I Learned Today

Things I learned today on a seven hour car trip:

1. There are beavers in KS. Well, there was a beaver. It's now dead. On the side of the road. I assume it died of dehydration.

2. Kenny Rogers voice will make Cortland quit crying. And the song Elvira will get him going again.

3. The lines in Lucille by Kenny Rogers are not (words I always thought are in italics);

"You picked a fine time to leave me, Lucille,

With four hungry children and a Daf and a Dil.

I've had some bad times, lived through some sad times,

But this time you hurt me for real.

You picked a fine time to leave me, Lucille."

4. I won't call 911 when I see a couple push a light blue hatchback off into a ravine on the side of the highway. (I was surprised by that. Who knew? I always thought of myself as a concerned citizen.)

5. A Chicken McNugget can maim when it hits the back of your head from 3 1/2 feet.

6. And finally, kids are now smoking Salvia to get high. And there's a bunch of people who want to outlaw growing it. Strange. My mother will be a wanted fugitive.

Carroll Update

Lots of people have been asking about a Carroll update.

She found out Friday that the tumor came back sometime in the last 2 months. She's starting IV chemo and Avastin. We are hopeful that this treatment will shrink the tumor and that the treatment won't suck in the suckiest suckness of suck. Ever hear someone say that the treatment is worse than the actual illness? Yeah, that's not the case here. I think she would stick hot pokers under her eyelids if it would cure her cancer. Hell, I would do it right along with her if it would mean that this fucking tumor would disappear.

Other than that, Carroll's doing great. She started back to work the beginning of January and didn't have any trouble picking up where she left off last July. We celebrated her daughters 1st birthday at the end of December, which was such a treat. Lily is so sweet and girly. Her birthday is actually the beginning of Jan, but Carroll wanted to make sure Ciara's husband could be there. Ever thoughtful, our Kiwi.

All in all she's hanging in there. Of course this news was a blow and not what she/we wanted to hear. But as Kiwi would say, "It is what it is." Seriously, she has the best attitude.

Pictures

Cortland got into the Aquaphor lotion.

What? Why are you staring at me?

AHHH! Fix it!

Meh. Guess it's not so bad...

Cortland liked the snow when it was less fluffy, less thick, just less. Regardless, it was like pulling teeth to get him back inside.

Cortland playing on the bed.

Smock Coat by Debby Bliss I knitted for Lily.

Cortland and his best friend Lucas. Lucas is 2 months younger than C.

Drafty Windows

Our home is now hermetically sealed. With plastic. Now don't go thinking we've gone all white trash. Tanya showed me the error of my thinking years ago when she showed me her electric bill compared to ours all because she put plastic on her windows in the winter.

Tanya taught me that it's not my fault that old windows get drafty and to not be too proud to do something about an issue that is making money fly, figuratively, out the window. Drafty windows happens to everyone, just like what all women feel (bubbles) when they go potty. It happens to everyone but nobody talks about it.

I really have no idea why I feel the way I do/did with putting plastic over the windows. I guess it's from seeing other peoples houses from the outside with shiny tin foil covering their windows. (And really, what does tin foil do??? If it's just to block light, then black-out curtains can be purchases at Wal-Mart for less than 16 boxes of tin foil. Weirdos.)

So mostly what I'm trying to say is if it's drafty, feel free to fix it. It's nothing to be embarrassed about. You can't even see that the windows are covered. And it's so nice to sit and not feel a cold breeze on your neck while knitting.

Some things I would like to point out:

1. Don't wait until it's 19˚ (again) before putting up the plastic. The hot air from the hair dryer has to work so much harder to shrink wrap the plastic. It takes f.o.r.e.v.e.r.

2. It's super fun to chase out the wrinkles with the dryer.

3. Sweep the floor before unwrapping the plastic or you'll end up with furries on the inside of the windows. Ewww, gross.

4. Something else, but I can't remember.

5. Buy the size for sliding/patio doors and cut to size. It's cheaper that way.

6. Start sticking at the top, do the sides and then the bottom. Trim after you shrink wrap. Thanks Tanya for that little tip. So much easier than the way I would have done it.

7. Try to make the plastic as neat as possible, but not tight, just wrinkle-ish free-ish. The hair dryer will tighten everything up.

Homeless

It's interesting how our views change as we get older. When I was 19 I thought I knew myself and never imagined that my "self" would ever be different than the one then and there.

But it did change. And now at 37 I feel like I don't know anything. Things are never quite as they seem. Situations have many angles and no viewpoint is cut and dry. There are too many variables. I won't ever know all there is to know about a topic to make an absolute, set in concrete, never change my mind stand on a topic. I can be firm on a decision, but I also know I need to listen to other sides. (my 19 year old self says this is a wishy-washy way to view life) (I wonder what my 72 year old self will say on the subject?)

On the radio today an announcer was dumbfounded that many homeless people have cell phones. He quoted Don Sisler, executive director the Union Gospel Mission from an article from the Star Tribune who said "... But those [homeless] who do use them to manage their lives, just like you and me."

The radio announcer, Mark Davis on 820AM in Dallas, couldn't fathom what in a homeless person's life would need to be managed. All I could think was; Is he serious??? Is he that narrow minded? What in the world was he thinking going on the radio and saying something that makes him sound so incredibly STUPID???

I wonder what my 19 year old self would have thought about homeless people having cell phones? Even at 19 I would hope that I could see more than one tiny little facet of the issue, unlike that Mark Davis guy. (I would love to call in and tell him what a moron he is, but it wouldn't do any good.)

My niece, for all intents and purposes, is homeless. I don't think she's ever slept under a bridge. (That would be my 19 year old self's definition of homeless) My 37 year old self's definition is if you don't have an address to forward mail when you move because you don't know where you'll be from one day to the next, then you are homeless.

She moves from one friends couch to the next. She won't or can't hold a job for more than a few weeks; doesn't have a drivers license; isn't in school; and she doesn't want any of those things in her life right now. And that's okay. (It's taken a lot of letting go for me to say that last sentence. I'm sort-of a fixer person and I've had to learn that my lifestyle is not the only lifestyle.) Her hair and clothes are clean and she eats regular meals. She comes for family holidays. She is happy with her life.

My niece has a cell phone and we have established that she is homeless. Her Grandma pays the bill on that phone. (I think she still does) It puts the whole family at ease to know that we can get in touch with my niece if we need to. And, more important, she can get in touch with us if she needs to.

I wonder how old this Mark Davis guy is? I hope he's only 19 and there is a chance he will learn to see more than one narrow little view of the world because it would be a shame for him to die and have his tombstone read:

"Mark Davis, he couldn't find his ass with both hands. Bless his heart."