and so it goes....

And so the baby doesn't talk right? He is the silent shouter in my life. That knot in my gut that follows me around and tells me that things just aren't right.
So tonight I have my gut somewhere up in my throat as I roll this diagnosis around in my head..."Childhood Apraxia of Speech."
The speech language pathologist (SLP) came today and gave him a full evaluation. And when she told me this apraxia word my brain froze. She continued....It is treatable with the right intervention....Not a big deal, really. She told me not to Google it, because she has this book, see, and that I should read that book, not the internet. She told me about a crazy hysterical mother that took her toddler to a neurologist in search of what could be wrong with him.
"Not that you would do that. You don't seem the type," she said with a wise wave of her hand.
So I said good-bye, thank you, waved, shut the door and 3,2, 1....Googled....."Childhood Apraxia of.....and there it was. Come on, this lady has known me for, what?, five minutes?
As many of these disorders, diseases, syndromes, conditions... are apt to have there is a dot org. And words like "special needs," "IEPs," "special education," "advocate for your child," "therapy," all stick to my eyelids and prevent any rational thoughts from occuring.
It will be alright. I know it. As Patty our own personal family SLP, talked me down out of my tree tonight, she's a wealth of information. I suppose if God had given me a list of tough things your child must endure, this may be one of the ones I would have chosen, if forced to.

The reveal

OK, People here it is....you've probably been wondering what I've been doing with all my time. I present to you the after. If you haven't seen the before, you'll have to scroll down through the blog (to Sept 7th) to see the work in progress.

three way pull

First tooth yanked by Mama Super Grip.
And baby "sleeps" in the barn with friends.

My oldest boy turned eight on the same day his brother lost his first tooth.

A day of milestones...

The mother of said boys was supposed to be in three places at once. All between 1130 and noon this is what I should have been doing.

1) handing out birthday treats at school

2) attending a Thanksgiving play

3) attending baby's speech therapy

Needless to say, I ended up in breaking all speeding records, frazzled and in tears. And my sweet middle child said matter of factly from the back seat, "too bad, you couldn't see my play."

KC still doesn't talk. And to say I'm worried about it is putting it lightly. I try to work with him and repeat things until I can feel my eyes bulge.

I'm off to do more stuff in the kitchen. I've got the UN coming for dinner.

there's nothing like...

i've been a bit afraid of my blog lately.
I don't know why.
Kind of like picking up the phone to talk to a friend you haven't spoken with for a long time. It seems like there is too much ground to cover.
Oh, I also had two people tell me they don't read my blog anymore because it is too boring.
So I feel it is probably safe to talk about them in unfavorable tones in future posts. I may even post pictures of them.
We've had our first case of pink eye in the house last week. There is nothing like chasing down a two year old, tying him down to pry his eyes apart to splash medicine into his eyes.

Q is going to be in a Thanksgiving play tomorrow. He has a dual role -- The King (as in of England, not Elvis) and Miles Standish. Again....there is nothing like 5 year olds dressed as pilgrims and the natives.

Tomorrow is K's 8th birthday too, which will require the usual fete and festivities.

Shawn is gone to NY for his 103 year old Nana's funeral. He will miss the celebrations here.

I'm also not sure how I will complete the meal preparation for 12 that I have planned on Thursday, but I'm sure it will all work out.

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. There is nothing like it.
This is my week to watch Food Network. I can watch people prepare turkey and stuffing all week.

camp

Here is one great element to being the only female in the family. For questions like...."mama, can we camp outside tonight?"

I can simply say, you know I don't deal with such things, ask your Papa. And he will pitch a tent in the backyard and all boys over the age of 5 will prepare for the hardship ahead.

I was awake from 330am to 430am that night with the baby. The outside thermometer read 43 degrees. Papa didn't sleep so well. He tried to convince the two children that maybe they wanted to go in and sleep in the house, but they had none of it.

2nd grade blues

To the best of my knowledge, I've attended second grade.

In fact, I remember the first day my mom said to me. You know, I didn't go to school here (meaning America), I cannot help you any longer with school work, you are on your own.

Well in the end, it was just another great gift she gave me. So while other kids had awesome solar systems crafted out of store bought styrofoam balls and paint or a mechanical structure they built in the garage with their dads. I tried to figure out how to make a dental plate out of flour, water and food color. I won a "superior" and then when I went to the district science fair I found my teeth and literally rotted in the moist baggy with fuzzy mold.

But now I've found myself having to repeat 2nd grade, again. Because we live in a new world where the parents are required to involved in every aspect of the student's class work. K had to decorate a paper gingerbread man to look like himself. He worked at it with great vigor and let's just say the child is not known for his artistic abilities. When I saw all of the little people up on the bulletin board. K's was in the lower left hand corner with a bit of crayon color for clothing and a basic smiley face. Others had buttons, fabric, yarn hair and 3D embellishments showing little gingerdude doing a favorite hobby or sport. Our next project was a book report where we had to, get this, craft a pumpkin or gourd into the main character of the book. Now we are supposed to create a "family turkey" or some damn thing.

Honestly I could hardly fully comprehend the instructions I just glanced at the headline, "Dear Parents...' the dread filled my chest. And then there was something about Thanksgiving being about gratitude for family and golly gee this project will really be a great way for your children be thankful that you got locked away because you won't be around to hurt anyone. anymore.

happy halloween 2007

The kids are asleep in a sugary coma. The baby has determined that Halloween is a great holiday. He rode around in the wagon during trick or treating eating lollipops. He never moved or tried to get out of the moving wagon as he is apt to do. I think he didn't want to break the sneaky sweet snack fest.

I want to be on record here....
I FINALLY picked a green for my bathroom. It really has been worth the hunt. It is restful green "Gentle Dill" by Martin Senour. I feel at peace when I look at it.
I painted the bathroom walls and liked it so much that i decided to make an accent wall at the top of my stairs with it. Of course I ran out. So tomorrow I will find more.

There is only ONE place in town that carries this green color. Of course it was like an Indiana Jones unlocking the crypt adventure for me to finally track down the holy grail of greens.

At this place, there lives a magical woman that people wait hours to consult with on paint colors. People walk in with a swatch of fabric, a chip of paint or an idea in their heads and she walks in front of the spectrum of colors pulling, cutting and pasting until she has a gorgeous collection of coordinating colors.

pictures to follow after I paint trim, ceiling, install new sink base (or someone I'm married to does that)
Fights have erupted if anyone attempts to cut in the line or butt in "can I just ask one question".....

two!

what ticks you off

so we talked about anger in our Sunday School class this week.
We started out by posing the question ...what makes us mad. Right away, people came up with numerous traffic or shopping check out scenerios that really steam them.
I sat quietly and listened thinking, hm this is strange, none of that really bugs me. I really am so calm and laid back. huh?
wait this isn't me....there's gotta be something.
Oh yeah there's those people that speed past my house while our family is in the front yard.
and what about these jokers that own a jewelery store and hire a truck to drive around with a billboard on the back to advertise.
And then there is more waste and polluters and litterers and child molesters and ....
wait....ah there we go. the rage is back. all better.

PLEASE DO NOT INTENTIONALLY....

There are a bunch of crazies that live in my neighborhood.

I have to tell you beforehand that I live in part of the 'hood where the drivers speed by...and one guy had the nerve to post this on our community message board......

Subject line: "PLEASE DO NOT INTENTIONALLY WALK INTO THE PATH OF MY MOVING VEHICLE.

> Last night about 8:50pm (dusk), I experienced an emergency and was transporting my daughter to the ER while talking with her physician (on bluetooth so both hands could be free to drive). Yes, I was exceeding 25 MPH (IT WAS AN EMERGENCY), but I was not going over 35 and was EXTREMELY watchful for other cars and (typical ly) children who dart into the street unexpectedly. However, I was not expecting an adult resident to place their live, the life of their pet, and the potential catastrophic impact to me and my family had I actually hit this person as they deliberately stepped from in front of a parked car DIRECTLY INTO THE PATH OF MY VEHICLE and STOOD IN THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD!!! While I appreciate the fervor with which we all try to encourage each other to SLOW DOWN through the subdivision, it is UNACCEPTABLE for anyone to place themselves and the driver in peril by this reckless behavior. Yell from the sidewalk, wave your arms, ... whatever.... JUST DON'T DO THIS AGAIN, PLEASE! I am sending this message to the subdivision as an alert to ALL DRIVERS to be aware of this type behavior.

What a knuckle head. Suffice it to say, this started a flurry of back and forth posts. The majority of which said, "ahm let's see...
1) you were speeding through the neighborhood
2) talking on your cell phone
3) you had an emergency, but didn't call an ambulance.
4) thank God it wasn't my kid that intentionally placed himself in front of your speeding, distracted vehicle.

imagine a life

Imagine you are at work.
The boss tells you things are just too crazy, and there is no one else who can come in to cover the next shift. So you stay and work.
By the 15th hour, you start to get a little bleary eyed and cotton mouthed, but you are allowed to have the occasional break, snack or meal in the breakroom. You are permitted to use the toilet facilities, but it is only for a limited amount of time. Someone will usually come looking for you and leaving the floor will back up the work or cause an accident.
And since your workplace is a 24 hour operation like most newsrooms, hospitals or 7-11's are you still can't leave come the third shift.
And so it continues, you really should be represented by a workers' union for what you know is a clear violation of US legal code.
You work with the same handful of people and while they are a fine group of people, they get on your nerves. Afterall, you are around them all the time.
Day after day, night after night.
Oh and did I mention? -- they can't pay you.
Slave labor, you say. Although if you haven't caught on by now...
This is my life.
My workplace is my house.
I cannot leave.
When I was younger and covered more breaking news shorties from the field. I thought I'd pass out from the exhaustion. I operated on very little or no sleep and ate rice crackers for meals.
That is what the initial months with a newborn felt like.
I know the whole thing about the crashing airplane and how you are supposed to give yourself oxygen first before aiding those smaller or weaker than you.
My airplane has been losing altitude for about eight years now. I feel guilty and selfish when I feel like I have to get away, but I do.
An occasional girls night out should do, but I need it EVERYDAY.
I have heavy-duty guilt when I feel like I need to escape the people that I love the most.

baby at "school"

what's the point?

Talk about an oxymoron....I've just become the "room mom" for the baby's mother's morning out class.....or maybe that is just "moron", without the "oxy."
Now the child goes once a week for three hours. One would think the work it takes a room mom to do the things she has to do for the "CLASS" would in fact negate the whole point of the program.
So there I sat in the parents' meeting before "school" started. When the teacher asked for a volunteer to be room mom, she looked sqare at me and my friend across the room (since we both have had children survive the program before).
I extended my arm to volunteer my sweet friend and the teacher thanked us both for volunteering.
So now begins the planning and begging for birthday presents for both teachers(because of course neither has a summer birthday), Christmas gifts, teacher appreciation gifts, teachers' luncheon and end of year gifts and luncheons, have i mentioned the gifts and luncheons?
I'm really not good at this. Remember I am a Kappa mom.

I love the internet, really I do.

Here is the amazing thing. I have a bed with a matelasse cover on it. When I bought it I must have been cheap because I didn't spend the extra dough and get the shams. I think it is because I come from a world where bed shams weren't part of my reality.

Anyway....my bed never looked made, even when I attempted to make it.

Trouble is I have no idea where I bought it. So yesterday I looked at the tag and googled Columbine Cody matelasse cover and lo and behold page after page of just what I was looking for.
gotta run....kids begging for their own computer time......ugh

smile

A funny thing happens when I see a picture of myself, I am shocked and dismayed at how i look....fat, frumpy, bad skin, no makeup. (did you ever wonder why I blurred my blogger picture?)
Anyway, I take this picture, stick it in a box and five years later, pull it out think, "Whoa, did I ever look good!!"
So it is that time of year again, when the professional photographer comes to the school. Year after year, I've seen great shots of families sitting ever so casually on stones in the woods wearing identical khaki pants, freshly pressed white button down shirts, and barefoot.
Because put-together families in perfectville wear this uniform and walk through the woods without shoes on.
So year after year I think, perhaps, I'll lose a little weight first before I have someone take a full length shot of me, but it is when I look back at the old pictures that I realize this is as good as it is ever going to get.
So I've made our appointment and I search for clothes we can wear that are not too matchy matchy, but don't clash with each other. Something in black for me, perhaps.
The music teacher at the school has her family picture from last year hanging on the wall. She has three children, a husband and two dogs. All were in the picture, looking right at the camera smiling and looking fabulous. It was a feat on it's own, until she pointed out a small brown blob on the shoulder of one of the children. The hamster. Yes the hamster was also in the picture looking straight into the camera smiling. Miraculous. Little khaki pants and all.

boys, books and bathrooms

Pictures from Q's first day of school and the baby's first day of mother's morning out.

I just scraped wallpaper and it's sticky liner for the past hour. It is about as much as I can take at a time. The bathroom still gets too hot and tedious. I tried to trick my mind into taking the zen approach it all.... It is not about the destination; it is about the journey. It is not about the journey.

But really in this case it is all about the destination. I want my bathroom done. It is about picking a green. In the end, it will be the wrong green, but I will be tired of looking for the PERFECT green.

I've started in a book club. Our first meeting is next month, our book is Welcome to the World Baby Girl by Fannie Flagg. Any other suggestions are welcome.

Right now I'm reading Rise and Shine by Anna Quindlen. Next I feel it is my duty as a member of this society to read Harry Potter, the first one, mind you. I also want to read Kite Runner. That should get me through Christmas, since I am not a fast reader and things like messy children and peeling bathrooms and doggie diarrhea seem to swallow up big chunks of time around here.

a bunch of crap

Here are two words that no one wants to start her day with....doggy diarrhea.
Ah yes, that is when you know you are going to earn your pay for the day, oh yes except for the fact that you don't get paid for this job.
At least it wasn't one of the kids right? Right, except that was the weekend.
I returned home from work Saturday night to find out that Q started throwing up. My hunka hunka said it was perhaps from the enormous amount of junk food they eat while I am not around. (how fair is that?)

Does anyone else feel some amount of karma come around that OJ was arrested about the time his stupid book is coming out endorsed by the even stupider Goldmans?

Gotta go, I am being beckoned....mamama mama mama mama mama mama.

These are the people that suck....tv execs that put all the great shows on Thursday night.

Two of my faves....The Office and Grey's Anatomy are on at the same time this season. I know Tivo....blah blah blah. But our satellite system only allows one channel at a time, so whatever you are watching is what you have to record. Which means rabbit ear antenae on the upstairs TV and commercials, ugh.

I know too that there are bigger problems in the world, but come on, people. What about Sunday? Monday?

greener than green

I've been "working" on my bathroom.The quest for the perfect green has reached a new level of insanity and obsession.

Believe it or not I narrowed down my search from 70 or so samples of green to finally decide on one. But when I bought a small sample of it....it was all wrong. So back to the color charts to start all over....I narrowed it down to two from Home Depot. And then my mind flashed back to a Pampered Chef party I attended last year. I asked the hostess to tell me what color she had painted her kitchen. She wrote it on a small sticky note and by some miracle I stored it into a three-ring binder I generously titled "HOME IMPROVEMENTS."

After much searching I finally found the color.

Then I read a column written by a woman in Florida and one click led to another and I found an article about her that sent me obsessing. The picture shows her and two of her kids at the kitchen table and what did I notice? The plate of homemade cookies on the table? the cute kids? No right there in front of me was THE green. I must have that green. (OK I did notice the cookies first....but then it was the green the green!)

And being the complete freaky stalker of the perfect green that I am, I emailed the woman. And she so kindly dug through her garage for the paint can.

So now I am up to four colors of the verde, my friend Heather gave me a sample of her green today that I must try.

Funny, that I really am about a month's worth of labor away from painting that tragic space. In fact I may decide to start another project first .... something small and doable.