Me: Can you say, "La la?"
Her: La la.
Like it's nothing.
Me: How about, "Da da?"
She doesn't miss a beat: Da.
Me: Bubbles.
Her: Bubba.
Me: Lee.
Her: Leeeee.
Me: Momma.
Her: No.
And that's all I have to say about that.
Showing posts with label development. Show all posts
Showing posts with label development. Show all posts
Saturday, June 29, 2013
Sunday, June 9, 2013
A La Ma Ma
For six years, I've been fortunate enough to be involved in The Princess's life. During the course of those six years, we've had our ups and downs, all through the magnifying lens of her autism.
My girl possesses a brand of brutal honesty rarely seen in the human race. She operates without a shred of inhibition or self-consciousness. She wears her heart on her sleeve. Unbridled joy can be closely followed by agonizing overload or disappointment.
In short, you don't have to be a neuropsych to see what my girl is feeling.
Though she is nonverbal, The Princess communicates things in her own unique way. I have never doubted her love for The Hubbs and myself, not even for a moment. How could I, when she makes such concerted efforts to show us each and every day?
Still, I admit to being just a tad envious when I hear her cousins or other little ones telling their parents that they love them. I know...I do my best not to compare, and I'm happier than I've been in my entire life, but there it is.
This morning, I walked into The Princess's room to wake her, and I ended up plopped on the floor next to her bed. Every day, I make a point of sitting down with my girl and telling her just how much she means to me. With all of the challenges she will face in her life, I want no question about this: she is special, she is kind, she is smart, and she is cherished.
As I've done every other day of her life, I told my girl in no uncertain terms that she is loved.
And, there in her room on a Sunday morning like any other, my life changed. Because just after I told her that Momma loves her, she looked me in the eye with the sweetest smile on her little face and said, "A la ma ma."
A la you, too, baby. You have no idea how much you mean to me. Thank you for - once again - pointing out exactly how big the little things can be if we just slow down and take the time to experience them with all we have.
Sunday, May 26, 2013
La La Laaaaa
More and more, The Princess is mimicking things we do. More and more, those things include sounds. More and more, I'm absolutely gobsmacked by the progress she's making and overwhelmingly grateful that I am here to witness it.
About a week ago, I sat in my computer chair with an extremely engaged little person on my lap, smiling and staring into my eyes with an intensity I never would have thought possible if you'd have asked me three years ago. The twinkle in her little peepers said Come on, Momma. Let's play.
I said, "Puh, puh, puh."
She said, "Puh, puh, puh."
I said, "Tuh, tuh, tuh."
She said, "Tuh, tuh, tuh."
These are two sounds she's been mimicking for a while now. She was still all engaged and twinkly, so I got brave and tried a new one that's never worked before.
I said, "La, la, la."
She snapped her little mouth shut and looked at me - I mean really looked. She reached out and touched my lips, stuck her tongue out and I could almost see the gears turning in her head. She moved her little hand on my mouth, very effectively asking me to say it again.
Me: "La, la, la, la, la."
Her: A determined look slapped on her pretty little face, she stuck her tongue out between her teeth and said - perfectly, on the first try - "La, la, laaaaa."
About a week ago, I sat in my computer chair with an extremely engaged little person on my lap, smiling and staring into my eyes with an intensity I never would have thought possible if you'd have asked me three years ago. The twinkle in her little peepers said Come on, Momma. Let's play.
I said, "Puh, puh, puh."
She said, "Puh, puh, puh."
I said, "Tuh, tuh, tuh."
She said, "Tuh, tuh, tuh."
These are two sounds she's been mimicking for a while now. She was still all engaged and twinkly, so I got brave and tried a new one that's never worked before.
I said, "La, la, la."
She snapped her little mouth shut and looked at me - I mean really looked. She reached out and touched my lips, stuck her tongue out and I could almost see the gears turning in her head. She moved her little hand on my mouth, very effectively asking me to say it again.
Me: "La, la, la, la, la."
Her: A determined look slapped on her pretty little face, she stuck her tongue out between her teeth and said - perfectly, on the first try - "La, la, laaaaa."
Saturday, May 4, 2013
Physical Aggression in the Classroom
This is the note I had to type and send off to The Princess's teacher this evening. It breaks my heart.
***
I saw videos from the music program today, and I'm completely blown away by how far The Princess has come since the last program. I wish I could have been there, but I'm in San Francisco for work until next Friday...so it was really nice to get the videos that The Hubbs's mom took during the program.
That being said, I am extremely concerned for The Princess's safety. The Hubbs and his mom both saw Z hit The Princess - hard - twice today. Z seems to wait until you and the other staff members are otherwise occupied and then she hits The Princess. The first time was so hard my mother-in-law was absolutely shocked. You turned to talk to her and The Hubbs , and Z punched The Princess very hard in the chest. It happened again when everyone was getting ready to leave. You were occupied with something else, and Z hit The Princess again, this time with an open palm on The Princess's leg. The Hubbs and my mother-in-law didn't want to cause a scene during the program, but I can't leave this unaddressed.
One of the most concerning aspects of this, to me, is that The Princess didn't react at all. This tells me that it happens often enough that The Princess is used to it and doesn't see it as being wrong. This is not okay in any sense of the word.
Being the parent of a nonverbal child like The Princess, The Hubbs and I are extremely vigilant about keeping our eyes on her. She can't tell us if something hurts or if someone did something to her, and we rely on you and the other classroom staff to be our eyes and ears during the school day.
We do absolutely everything in our power to keep her out of harm's way at home, but I feel like there's a gap in this vigilance at school. This academic year alone, The Princess has come home with deep scratches to her face (which have since left scars - the original incident was in October), multiple bruises, bumps, cuts and scrapes. Each time she comes home with an injury, we seem to receive a similar cryptic note regarding an incident with another student.
After today's events, I have no doubt that the other student has been Z, which I suspected all along. I have nothing but respect and gratitude for you and your staff, and I know you do the best you can, but I have to insist that The Princess and Z be separated immediately. I simply cannot stand by and allow this treatment/behavior to continue.
The Princess has made amazing progress in the three years since she started in your program, and I think we would both agree that this is largely due to the fact that we - her parents - and you - her support team - have always been on the same page. It's taken four and a half years, but she is now completely potty-trained. Things take a long time for her to learn, but once they're ingrained, she has a memory like a steel trap. I'm afraid that Z's behavior is teaching The Princess that volatility and violence are acceptable, and this is the exact opposite of what we are teaching and enforcing at home.
We've all worked too hard to get The Princess where she is today to see any regression or bad habits come out of inconsistency at school. Like I said, I'm concerned for her safety at this point. I cannot allow her to continue to be in the same classroom with a child who is physically abusive toward her.
Please let me know what can be done to solve this issue. The Hubbs and I are prepared to keep The Princess home in the interim if needed, and I'll be happy to talk to whoever I need to talk to at the special education district or the local school district. I just can't have my baby bullied. I hope you understand.
Thanks for your time,
Amy
***
Hi Mrs. G.,
I saw videos from the music program today, and I'm completely blown away by how far The Princess has come since the last program. I wish I could have been there, but I'm in San Francisco for work until next Friday...so it was really nice to get the videos that The Hubbs's mom took during the program.
That being said, I am extremely concerned for The Princess's safety. The Hubbs and his mom both saw Z hit The Princess - hard - twice today. Z seems to wait until you and the other staff members are otherwise occupied and then she hits The Princess. The first time was so hard my mother-in-law was absolutely shocked. You turned to talk to her and The Hubbs , and Z punched The Princess very hard in the chest. It happened again when everyone was getting ready to leave. You were occupied with something else, and Z hit The Princess again, this time with an open palm on The Princess's leg. The Hubbs and my mother-in-law didn't want to cause a scene during the program, but I can't leave this unaddressed.
One of the most concerning aspects of this, to me, is that The Princess didn't react at all. This tells me that it happens often enough that The Princess is used to it and doesn't see it as being wrong. This is not okay in any sense of the word.
Being the parent of a nonverbal child like The Princess, The Hubbs and I are extremely vigilant about keeping our eyes on her. She can't tell us if something hurts or if someone did something to her, and we rely on you and the other classroom staff to be our eyes and ears during the school day.
We do absolutely everything in our power to keep her out of harm's way at home, but I feel like there's a gap in this vigilance at school. This academic year alone, The Princess has come home with deep scratches to her face (which have since left scars - the original incident was in October), multiple bruises, bumps, cuts and scrapes. Each time she comes home with an injury, we seem to receive a similar cryptic note regarding an incident with another student.
After today's events, I have no doubt that the other student has been Z, which I suspected all along. I have nothing but respect and gratitude for you and your staff, and I know you do the best you can, but I have to insist that The Princess and Z be separated immediately. I simply cannot stand by and allow this treatment/behavior to continue.
The Princess has made amazing progress in the three years since she started in your program, and I think we would both agree that this is largely due to the fact that we - her parents - and you - her support team - have always been on the same page. It's taken four and a half years, but she is now completely potty-trained. Things take a long time for her to learn, but once they're ingrained, she has a memory like a steel trap. I'm afraid that Z's behavior is teaching The Princess that volatility and violence are acceptable, and this is the exact opposite of what we are teaching and enforcing at home.
We've all worked too hard to get The Princess where she is today to see any regression or bad habits come out of inconsistency at school. Like I said, I'm concerned for her safety at this point. I cannot allow her to continue to be in the same classroom with a child who is physically abusive toward her.
Please let me know what can be done to solve this issue. The Hubbs and I are prepared to keep The Princess home in the interim if needed, and I'll be happy to talk to whoever I need to talk to at the special education district or the local school district. I just can't have my baby bullied. I hope you understand.
Amy
Monday, April 22, 2013
Celebration: A Day (Mostly) In Pictures
In case you missed it, The Princess just turned six years old on the 11th of this month. Since she was a wee one, she has not been able to deal with crowds, noise or parties in general. Because of this, the last birthday party with more than five people in attendance was when she turned one.
Lately, though, The Princess has been showing off her developing self-calming skills and an amazing ability to cope with - and even, in some cases, enjoy - family parties. Feeling adventurous, I decided a couple of months ago that we'd throw her a big party for her sixth birthday.
The party was this past Saturday, less than 24 hours after I stepped off a plane after spending the week working in San Francisco. The festivities took place at Nana's house, where she and Auntie J absolutely knocked it out of the park. Their parties are always amazing, and I have to say I am so thankful to the two of them for pulling this together for me. I never, ever would have been able to do this without them...and not just because we live in an 800 square foot house!
We had about 20 people there, and The Princess did amazingly well. She retreated to quiet spaces a few times, but for the most part she was involved in the party. Running full tilt back and forth across the great room counts as being involved, right? Right. It's her party. She can run if she wants to.
The theme was polka dots, and Nana and Auntie J found some amazingly adorable stuff. Without further ado, here are a few of my favorite pictures:
I can't even begin to tell you how proud I am of this little girl. She did an amazing job at her birthday party, and I absolutely adore the fact that she is feeling more and more comfortable at these family gatherings.
Thanks again to Nana and J for pulling this together for me. I owe you, ladies.
And, Pop? Thanks for taking over my camera so I could be in the action.
Lately, though, The Princess has been showing off her developing self-calming skills and an amazing ability to cope with - and even, in some cases, enjoy - family parties. Feeling adventurous, I decided a couple of months ago that we'd throw her a big party for her sixth birthday.
The party was this past Saturday, less than 24 hours after I stepped off a plane after spending the week working in San Francisco. The festivities took place at Nana's house, where she and Auntie J absolutely knocked it out of the park. Their parties are always amazing, and I have to say I am so thankful to the two of them for pulling this together for me. I never, ever would have been able to do this without them...and not just because we live in an 800 square foot house!
We had about 20 people there, and The Princess did amazingly well. She retreated to quiet spaces a few times, but for the most part she was involved in the party. Running full tilt back and forth across the great room counts as being involved, right? Right. It's her party. She can run if she wants to.
The theme was polka dots, and Nana and Auntie J found some amazingly adorable stuff. Without further ado, here are a few of my favorite pictures:
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| The party room, including some of the coasters I crocheted (my contribution to the polka dot decorations). The Princess's cousin K had fun running around and matching all the colors. |
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| One of the lovely tables, decorated with polka dot whirly flowers, polka dot runners (handmade by my wonderful MIL and SIL), squiggly balls, Skittles, Smarties and Gummi Worms. Oh, and some of my coasters, too. |
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| I loved the whirly flowers. What a cute idea for centerpieces! You can also see the paper lanterns hanging from the chandelier in the background. These gals are so clever. |
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| Auntie J asked me eons ago for pictures - she had seen an idea online of putting up a banner of the birthday girl at all ages up until now, and I loved the idea. Of course, I totally spaced on the pictures and completely forgot about it until I got there to see she had gone ahead with pics she already had. Thank you, doll. This is something I will cherish forever. |
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| The dessert table: Oreos and Rice Krispy treats on the left, and homemade German Chocolate cake and yellow cake with cream cheese frosting (my contributions) on the right. I love to bake, and I make everything from scratch because of my extremely inconvenient soy allergy. It's nice to b able to share some of this stuff with more than just my little crew. |
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| Loot pile! She made out like a bandit. Check out the fabulous polka dot birthday banner. |
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| And here we are ripping into the presents. This particular gift is from a beloved great auntie and great uncle, and it's a super-cool kid friendly MP3 player with an internal speaker and headphones. The Princess smiles when I start the music and put the headphones on her, but she doesn't leave them on very long yet. We'll work on using this a few minutes a day until she gets used to it. I'm hoping it will join the ever-growing ranks of self-calming techniques she has begun to collect...and it would fit nicely in my purse! |
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| I just had to include this one...from another beloved great auntie and uncle, she received a Fisher Price remote control and a V-Tech phone. Both have buttons that light up and play music when pushed. She is in love. |
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| Singing to our girl. I have to admit I got a little emotional here. In the past, we've always sung Happy Birthday in our whisper voices. This year, there were about 20 of us, and we sang at a normal volume. She clapped with the rest of us and ran around for the rest of the afternoon singing the melody until we left to go home. |
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| Another first: blowing out her birthday candles. She has just learned how to blow within the last couple of months. We brought out the cake, showed her what to do, and she did it. Did you hear me? She did it. That last candle? She blew it out all by herself. |
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| Who doesn't love cake? |
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| The four cousins. From left to right, it's E, A, K and C (The Princess). I just realized that if we were to put them in order from oldest to youngest, their initials would spell CAKE. And, again, who doesn't love CAKE? |
Thanks again to Nana and J for pulling this together for me. I owe you, ladies.
And, Pop? Thanks for taking over my camera so I could be in the action.
Monday, March 11, 2013
Sorry
I'm sitting at the dinner table, minding my own business, when - zing, SPLAT! - I find myself the victim of airborne marinara sauce.
Turning to my left, I see a little girl who is just bursting at the seams with the effort she's putting forth. Tears have popped into her eyes, and she's trying with all her might not to laugh.
But I'm no fool. Her empty spoon is held high. Think catapult.
Me: Princess, we NEVER throw food at the table. That is NOT funny.
The Princess: Heh.
Me: Oh, no. This is not funny. It makes me very sad that you would throw your food at me. Please say you're sorry. (Showing her the sign for "sorry")
The Princess vehemently shakes her head from side to side, cackling.
The Hubbs is turning purple.
Me: Excuse me, Princess! We never act like that. You hurt my feelings. Please say you're sorry. (Showing the sign for "sorry" again)
The Princess points straight at me and grins, on the verge of giggles.
Me: ... (Shooting daggers out of my eyes)
The Hubbs is doubled over in his seat. I think he may need to start breathing into a paper bag soon.
The Princess carefully forms a fist with her left hand, placing it against her chest and moving it in a small circle, perfectly displaying the sign for "sorry" while pointing her spoon at my face and belly laughing.
What do I choose to take from this? The fact that she said she was sorry. So she didn't mean it. What five-year-old does, really?
Turning to my left, I see a little girl who is just bursting at the seams with the effort she's putting forth. Tears have popped into her eyes, and she's trying with all her might not to laugh.
But I'm no fool. Her empty spoon is held high. Think catapult.
Me: Princess, we NEVER throw food at the table. That is NOT funny.
The Princess: Heh.
Me: Oh, no. This is not funny. It makes me very sad that you would throw your food at me. Please say you're sorry. (Showing her the sign for "sorry")
The Princess vehemently shakes her head from side to side, cackling.
The Hubbs is turning purple.
Me: Excuse me, Princess! We never act like that. You hurt my feelings. Please say you're sorry. (Showing the sign for "sorry" again)
The Princess points straight at me and grins, on the verge of giggles.
Me: ... (Shooting daggers out of my eyes)
The Hubbs is doubled over in his seat. I think he may need to start breathing into a paper bag soon.
The Princess carefully forms a fist with her left hand, placing it against her chest and moving it in a small circle, perfectly displaying the sign for "sorry" while pointing her spoon at my face and belly laughing.
What do I choose to take from this? The fact that she said she was sorry. So she didn't mean it. What five-year-old does, really?
Monday, February 18, 2013
Loose
For nearly the last week, The Princess has had a new pastime: playing with her loose tooth.
It weebles.
It wobbles.
It wiggles.
And, apparently, it falls out. Sometime during my flight to San Francisco for work, my girl lost her first tooth. I found out when I called to check in with The Hubbs as my plane was taxiing to the gate.
You know what kills me? I missed it. I know there's no way to regulate these things, but there's a small part of me that really wishes it would have happened just a few hours earlier so I'd have been there.
But maybe if I'm really, super sweet on the phone, The Hubbs will send me a picture. Ahem, cough, cough. Hint, hint. NUDGE.
I can't believe how big she's getting. Our little girl isn't so little anymore. And when I talked to her from the hotel, she busted out laughing when I mentioned her tooth. I don't know which is bigger: the loss of the tooth or the fact that she actually listened to me on the phone.
It weebles.
It wobbles.
It wiggles.
And, apparently, it falls out. Sometime during my flight to San Francisco for work, my girl lost her first tooth. I found out when I called to check in with The Hubbs as my plane was taxiing to the gate.
You know what kills me? I missed it. I know there's no way to regulate these things, but there's a small part of me that really wishes it would have happened just a few hours earlier so I'd have been there.
But maybe if I'm really, super sweet on the phone, The Hubbs will send me a picture. Ahem, cough, cough. Hint, hint. NUDGE.
I can't believe how big she's getting. Our little girl isn't so little anymore. And when I talked to her from the hotel, she busted out laughing when I mentioned her tooth. I don't know which is bigger: the loss of the tooth or the fact that she actually listened to me on the phone.
Monday, January 28, 2013
These Boots Are Made For Clompin'
Somebody stole her momma's boots, and she is currently clompin' around the house.
Mere minutes after snapping this picture, The Princess and I were face-to-face in the middle of a monstrous community giggle fit. She snorted like a pig and then found that so hilarious that she flailed around like only she can do...and whacked my nose so hard I saw nothing but a flash of white for a moment. Now it's numb. Here's hopin' I don't end up at the office with two black eyes tomorrow.
But, ya know, even if I do, it'll totally be worth it.
I am simply amazed every single day by this little girl. It's all of the little things, really, that are just so BIG in our house. Even a year ago, I don't know if I would have been able to take a picture of my girl looking at the camera. At that time, she wasn't so engaged. If I laughed, she usually didn't. Her idea of playing pretty much consisted of sitting alone in her room and stimming on one object past the point of obsession, screaming bloody murder when she finally realized that she simply couldn't stop what she was doing, that the activity had taken over and she didn't know how to move onto something else. Interactions by that point largely consisted of prying the object out of her fingers while she screamed and cried and ran away.
So you see why this would be worth two black eyes, right?
Yeah. Me, too.
Monday, January 21, 2013
Cousin E's Birthday Party
Where does the time go?
I can hardly believe it's been a year since our beautiful goddaughter, E, was born. Okay, well, it'll be a year tomorrow, but her party was this Saturday.
This generation of girls, with The Princess being the oldest and E the youngest (so far), well...they amaze me. I love seeing how they interact with each other and assert their independence in their own little ways. It seems like their personalities are ingrained almost from day one, and it really is a joy to sit back and observe them.
The more of these parties we go to, the more comfortable The Princess is with the huge rowdy group of folks we're lucky to call our family.
And, though I don't like to dwell on the negative, I've kind of felt as though I've been missing out the last few years. The last big party we had for The Princess was at her own first birthday, for what should be fairly obvious reasons by this point. I freely admit to my crying jag last year when I realized I wouldn't be able to throw a big party for her fifth birthday. Five is one of the big milestone years in my family, and it broke my heart that I couldn't have the party, but it was more important to me for her to be comfortable.
Now, seeing how well she is interacting with everyone and self-regulating when she needs to, I'm starting to think there may be hope yet.
That's right. We're going to have a birthday party this year. Lord help us. We'll probably ask everyone to sing in whispers, and she likely won't last more than a minute or two opening gifts, but we're gonna try it.
Here's hopin' there are half as many smiles that day as we saw this weekend.
I can hardly believe it's been a year since our beautiful goddaughter, E, was born. Okay, well, it'll be a year tomorrow, but her party was this Saturday.
This generation of girls, with The Princess being the oldest and E the youngest (so far), well...they amaze me. I love seeing how they interact with each other and assert their independence in their own little ways. It seems like their personalities are ingrained almost from day one, and it really is a joy to sit back and observe them.
.JPG) |
| E, the Birthday Girl, showin' off her bunny ears. |
.JPG) |
| K helping E out with the cake...E really wanted to see what she was doing. |
.JPG) |
| The Princess and Nana |
The more of these parties we go to, the more comfortable The Princess is with the huge rowdy group of folks we're lucky to call our family.
And, though I don't like to dwell on the negative, I've kind of felt as though I've been missing out the last few years. The last big party we had for The Princess was at her own first birthday, for what should be fairly obvious reasons by this point. I freely admit to my crying jag last year when I realized I wouldn't be able to throw a big party for her fifth birthday. Five is one of the big milestone years in my family, and it broke my heart that I couldn't have the party, but it was more important to me for her to be comfortable.
Now, seeing how well she is interacting with everyone and self-regulating when she needs to, I'm starting to think there may be hope yet.
That's right. We're going to have a birthday party this year. Lord help us. We'll probably ask everyone to sing in whispers, and she likely won't last more than a minute or two opening gifts, but we're gonna try it.
Here's hopin' there are half as many smiles that day as we saw this weekend.
Monday, January 14, 2013
Keeping a Straight Face
Okay, you're all aware of The Princess's shiny new ability to mimic. She's parroting actions, gestures, facial expressions, even some sounds. It's amazing.
But.
How the hell am I supposed to keep a straight face when I'm trying to scold her and she mirrors my stance - hands on hips, stern eyebrows, the whole nine yards?
The answer: I'm not. It's cool. It's new. It's fun. And there's no way I'm keepin' a straight face. At least not yet.
My girl, who will be turning six in three months, is finally starting to play some of the games we've been trying for since she was a baby. I think I'll just soak it all up and enjoy every moment, thank you very much.
But.
How the hell am I supposed to keep a straight face when I'm trying to scold her and she mirrors my stance - hands on hips, stern eyebrows, the whole nine yards?
The answer: I'm not. It's cool. It's new. It's fun. And there's no way I'm keepin' a straight face. At least not yet.
My girl, who will be turning six in three months, is finally starting to play some of the games we've been trying for since she was a baby. I think I'll just soak it all up and enjoy every moment, thank you very much.
Monday, January 7, 2013
Age Appropriate
If you're anything like me, those two words together make you cringe, grind your teeth a little, and - perhaps - start to twitch around your right eye. Not that I would know anything about that.
As moms, we all have those pet peeves we can't seem to get over. While they may seem trivial to some outsiders, they are very real and very big to those of us who take issue with them. "Age appropriate" is one of mine. You know, those seemingly harmless little numbers on every toy on the market...the ones that guide the consumer by telling them what age group said toy should be appropriate for on a developmental scale.
I vote we do away with these damned things altogether. Who's with me?
This Christmas, The Princess received a gift card to Toys 'R' Us and some cash from a couple of her great aunties and uncles. A couple of months before Christmas, The Hubbs' iPad crapped out, so our girl had been without her touch-screen educational apps for a while by that point.
Thinking we were doing something good, we threw in about $30 of our own money along with the gift card and cash, and we purchased a LeapFrog LeapPad2 from our local Toys 'R' Us. The age range on the package was 3-9 years. The Princess is going to turn 6 in April.
Well. You can see where this is going, can't you?
The LeapFrog LeapPad2 is lightyears ahead of my girl's abilities. Forget the fact that you have to purchase games and apps separately...I'll just focus on the developmental challenges.
On-off switch? Fine.
Login screen where the child has to choose his or her picture and name from a field of at least 5 choices, even if he or she is the only user? Discouraging.
The fact that the Internet cannot be accessed on the machine itself? Perfect. Exactly what I wanted.
Level of verbal instructions given for each and every game/app the thing came with? Far too advanced.
General process for getting into desirable locations and getting things done? Way too complicated.
Thankfully, our local Toys 'R' Us agreed to let us return the tablet for a cash refund and $25 store credit that same day. I was feeling about "this big" by that time. You know how it goes. The fact that they were willing to work with us made it a little better.
Once I got over myself, we made another trip to the same store a couple of days later. This trip was miles better than the one before. The Princess found two toys she absolutely loves. The fact that they each have an age range of 9-36 months does not bother me in the slightest. In fact, I believe I've learned a little lesson here.
I'm done with age range labels. Who the hell are you, you pretentious, colorful cardboard box, to tell me what's appropriate for my kid. She smiles, it's all good. And you can shove those age ranges where the smiley-face yellow cartoon sun don't shine.
As moms, we all have those pet peeves we can't seem to get over. While they may seem trivial to some outsiders, they are very real and very big to those of us who take issue with them. "Age appropriate" is one of mine. You know, those seemingly harmless little numbers on every toy on the market...the ones that guide the consumer by telling them what age group said toy should be appropriate for on a developmental scale.
I vote we do away with these damned things altogether. Who's with me?
This Christmas, The Princess received a gift card to Toys 'R' Us and some cash from a couple of her great aunties and uncles. A couple of months before Christmas, The Hubbs' iPad crapped out, so our girl had been without her touch-screen educational apps for a while by that point.
Thinking we were doing something good, we threw in about $30 of our own money along with the gift card and cash, and we purchased a LeapFrog LeapPad2 from our local Toys 'R' Us. The age range on the package was 3-9 years. The Princess is going to turn 6 in April.
Well. You can see where this is going, can't you?
The LeapFrog LeapPad2 is lightyears ahead of my girl's abilities. Forget the fact that you have to purchase games and apps separately...I'll just focus on the developmental challenges.
On-off switch? Fine.
Login screen where the child has to choose his or her picture and name from a field of at least 5 choices, even if he or she is the only user? Discouraging.
The fact that the Internet cannot be accessed on the machine itself? Perfect. Exactly what I wanted.
Level of verbal instructions given for each and every game/app the thing came with? Far too advanced.
General process for getting into desirable locations and getting things done? Way too complicated.
Thankfully, our local Toys 'R' Us agreed to let us return the tablet for a cash refund and $25 store credit that same day. I was feeling about "this big" by that time. You know how it goes. The fact that they were willing to work with us made it a little better.
Once I got over myself, we made another trip to the same store a couple of days later. This trip was miles better than the one before. The Princess found two toys she absolutely loves. The fact that they each have an age range of 9-36 months does not bother me in the slightest. In fact, I believe I've learned a little lesson here.
I'm done with age range labels. Who the hell are you, you pretentious, colorful cardboard box, to tell me what's appropriate for my kid. She smiles, it's all good. And you can shove those age ranges where the smiley-face yellow cartoon sun don't shine.
Monday, December 31, 2012
2012: Looking Back
Looking back over the last year, I can hardly believe the blessings in my life. The Princess's accomplishments alone absolutely amaze me.
Each year, I make a special photo book of all of the things that have happened with our girl, which we give to our families as Christmas gifts. The books follow her progress and growth throughout the year, and there's always a recap at the end, written from her perspective. As I sit here and look back at 2012, marveling at all we've done, nothing seems more appropriate to share with you than this year's book recap:
I am so unbelievably proud of my girl, and I feel so incredibly fortunate to have such a fantastic support system. Since the going got tough around here a few years ago, so many of you have stepped up and really proven to me how wonderful human beings can be. I've also found out how selfish and insensitive people can be, but y'all more than make up for that. I didn't need those other folks, anyway.
One of the things that people said left and right around the time of The Princess's diagnosis was that God never gives us any more than we can handle. I wrote this off as a canned response parroted by well-meaning people who love us and don't know what else to say. Now, more than three years after her diagnosis, The Princess shows me every day that this is true. I can't imagine what my life would be like today without her and her autism. I've grown in ways I never knew were possible, and I am very proud to stand before you as the person I am today.
I feel truly blessed, and I am looking forward to this coming new year with a glimmer in my eye and hope in my heart.
Each year, I make a special photo book of all of the things that have happened with our girl, which we give to our families as Christmas gifts. The books follow her progress and growth throughout the year, and there's always a recap at the end, written from her perspective. As I sit here and look back at 2012, marveling at all we've done, nothing seems more appropriate to share with you than this year's book recap:
This was a really big year for me. Momma and Da are very proud of the things I've accomplished. Some of these things are:
Potty training...I haven't worn a Pull-Up (except at night) in months.
Mimicking...this is the first step toward language, something doctors and other professionals have been watching and hoping for since I was really, really young. I now mimic many actions, and one of the major things I've learned is how to wave bye-bye.
Following directions...this is a biggie. One really good example is that I can now walk on the trails at the state park without holding Momma or Da's hand. With a lot of practice, I've learned to follow simple verbal directions when we are out and about.
Swimming...this is the best part of this whole year, as far as I'm concerned. This summer, I spent so much time in the water. Momma and Da worked with me every single day, and by August I could swim from one parent to the other when they stood ten to fifteen feet apart in water that was over my head.
And now comes the sappy. Nana, grab your tissues. You know how you get.
If you're reading this, it's because you're very special to me. I may not speak English on my own yet, but Momma feels confident in telling you that I love you very much. You accept me for who I am, and I don't think I could ever ask for any more than that.
I am so unbelievably proud of my girl, and I feel so incredibly fortunate to have such a fantastic support system. Since the going got tough around here a few years ago, so many of you have stepped up and really proven to me how wonderful human beings can be. I've also found out how selfish and insensitive people can be, but y'all more than make up for that. I didn't need those other folks, anyway.
One of the things that people said left and right around the time of The Princess's diagnosis was that God never gives us any more than we can handle. I wrote this off as a canned response parroted by well-meaning people who love us and don't know what else to say. Now, more than three years after her diagnosis, The Princess shows me every day that this is true. I can't imagine what my life would be like today without her and her autism. I've grown in ways I never knew were possible, and I am very proud to stand before you as the person I am today.
I feel truly blessed, and I am looking forward to this coming new year with a glimmer in my eye and hope in my heart.
Monday, November 12, 2012
Head and Shoulders, Knees and Toes
It's singalong time, y'all. You all know this one...don't try to deny it.
Ready?
1...2...3...sing it with me!
Head...
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..and shoulders...
.JPG)
...knees...
.JPG)
...and toes!
.JPG)
Pay no attention to the state of her room. We've had more important things to worry about lately, like the fact that The Princess is now mimicking all sorts of fabulous stuff.
At five-and-a-half years old, my girl has reached a major milestone: one of the first steps toward speech. I am so proud I could burst.
And I'm having a blast seeing exactly what she'll copy. There's a lot, and it's totally entertaining. I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume we should probably start watching what we say. There's a possibility we may have another speaker in our midst within the foreseeable future.
Ready?
1...2...3...sing it with me!
Head...
.JPG)
..and shoulders...
.JPG)
...knees...
.JPG)
...and toes!
.JPG)
Pay no attention to the state of her room. We've had more important things to worry about lately, like the fact that The Princess is now mimicking all sorts of fabulous stuff.
At five-and-a-half years old, my girl has reached a major milestone: one of the first steps toward speech. I am so proud I could burst.
And I'm having a blast seeing exactly what she'll copy. There's a lot, and it's totally entertaining. I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume we should probably start watching what we say. There's a possibility we may have another speaker in our midst within the foreseeable future.
Monday, November 5, 2012
Halloween Miracle
Tradition in our little yellow house dictates very specific Halloween activities, including trick-or-treating at The Grumps and attending a fabulous party with their neighbors. Unfortunately, The Grumps were out of town for Halloween this year, so we were on our own.
On the big day, we dressed The Princess in her punk rocker costume - complete with pink hair and a studded dog collar as her belt - and sent her off to school. When she got home, The Hubbs took her to a local state park to blow off some steam while I finished up my work day.
And then we freshened up her look and headed outside. We made a face, and she mimicked it. Right into the camera.
Proud doesn't even begin to describe this moment. She's looking into the camera. She's mimicking a face we've made at her seconds before snapping the picture. She's doing both things AT THE SAME TIME, as the result of an implied request.
I never would have thought it was possible. Just another example of how much and how often my girl knocks my socks off.
On the big day, we dressed The Princess in her punk rocker costume - complete with pink hair and a studded dog collar as her belt - and sent her off to school. When she got home, The Hubbs took her to a local state park to blow off some steam while I finished up my work day.
And then we freshened up her look and headed outside. We made a face, and she mimicked it. Right into the camera.
Proud doesn't even begin to describe this moment. She's looking into the camera. She's mimicking a face we've made at her seconds before snapping the picture. She's doing both things AT THE SAME TIME, as the result of an implied request.
I never would have thought it was possible. Just another example of how much and how often my girl knocks my socks off.
Monday, October 22, 2012
Waving
The Hubbs: "Hi, Princess. Hiiiiii."
The Princess:
At five and a half years old, she's finally beginning to understand the concept of waving. She still seems a bit confused by it, but it's slowly working its way into her vocabulary of actions.
The Princess:
At five and a half years old, she's finally beginning to understand the concept of waving. She still seems a bit confused by it, but it's slowly working its way into her vocabulary of actions.
Monday, October 8, 2012
Loved to Hate It
Every week since she turned three, The Princess has brought home a potty chart in her backpack. This evil little scrap of paper loves to mock all of our efforts, and I love to hate it.
I suppose I should really say, "I loved to hate it."
Why, you may ask? See for yourself.
That's right. A perfect record. It only took two and a half years at school, and - damn it - it was worth every single second of the wait.
I suppose I should really say, "I loved to hate it."
Why, you may ask? See for yourself.
That's right. A perfect record. It only took two and a half years at school, and - damn it - it was worth every single second of the wait.
Monday, October 1, 2012
Potty Training, Picture Day and the Death of a Dishwasher
Buckle up, folks...this post is gonna be a rambler. ;)
Since we talked last week, a lot has happened. We've continued our daily trips to the local state parks, and The Princess continues to love it.
Don't believe me? Here's your proof:
Go ahead...just try to tell me that's not a happy kid.
She is still a major fan of the stroller rides, and I'm so unbelievably proud of her. Are you sitting down? No? Grab a seat. I'll wait.
Not only is our girl rockin' the big girl panties every day, but she's decided to take things up a notch. She now stops what she is doing, gets up, runs to her potty, goes, pulls up her drawers, removes the pee bucket from the pink froggy, and attempts to empty it into the toilet herself. Without being prompted. I mean, like, all by herself.
I know. I almost plotzed the first time it happened. And the second. And the third. I think I'm finally starting to get used to it.
Just shy of five and a half years of wearing diapers every single day...and it was so totally worth the wait. Sure, it took years of grueling potty training, but when this girl gets something, she gets it. There are no words for the pride I feel.
***
Thursday was Fall Picture Day at school. I have a hard time saying that without a snarky little whine creeping into my voice. Autism + Picture Day = Hell On Wheels for everyone involved. At least, that's been my experience over the last couple of years.
Unbelievably, this year seems to have been different. I'll have to reserve my final judgment for after we hear back from her teachers, but it doesn't seem to have thrown her at all.
Five minutes before our alarm was set to go off on Thursday morning, The Princess woke up and started singing. As we walked into our room, I noticed that her hair looked amazing. Yes, my girl, the one whose bedhead is epic and can last for days, woke up with not one single hair out of place.
We cruised through our morning routine with no hiccups, The Princess cooperating every step of the way. She even chose her own outfit for her school picture.
After putting her on the bus with her backpack and an in-case-of-emergency change of pants, The Hubbs and I returned to work.
No phone calls. No emails. No panicked correspondence of any kind. For Picture Day, it was eerily silent.
And then her bus arrived at the end of our driveway. She greeted us with a smile and a song, still wearing the outfit she had chosen that morning and giving no indication that anything remotely out of the ordinary had happened.
We were warned in advance that this year's pictures would be taken in the gym, and that this can often be unbearable for at least some of the kids in the autism program. No kidding. We live with one. Big, cavernous space + lots of antsy kids + waiting in line and being expected to do specific things = the mother of all meltdowns just waiting to happen.
But there was nothing. She was happy. No notes from teachers, aides, therapists. No worried calls from school nurses.
Nothing at all.
I can't wait to see this picture, y'all.
***
And in totally non-Princess-related news, we've been fighting with our dishwasher for some time now. We received it as a hand-me-down about six years ago. and I couldn't have been more thankful. There was no way we could have afforded one at the time, and, hey...it was free.
Over the last five or so years, I've torn that machine apart more times than I can count. My momma didn't raise me to be a needy little girly-girl, so I dive head-first into repairs in my own home the way she always has with hers. Probably a month and a half to two months ago, the dishwasher started acting up again, and I just didn't feel like I had time to check it out. Fast-forward to September, and The Hubbs and I were just totally O-V-E-R the idea of hand-washing everything. All meals in our little yellow house are made from scratch, and we do a lot of crock-potting and baking.
Something needed to be done.
I ripped apart the dishwasher yet again, pulled diagnostic codes from its onboard computer, flipped it on its back, removed and tested all of the electrical components and came to a decision. The capacitor and pressure switch alone would cost over $100 (plus shipping), and I didn't even know if that would fix the problem or not. My first attempt - replacing the heating element - didn't do it, so my usually sunny outlook was gaining more than a little cloud cover. With so many things testing in the bad-to-dead range, I was afraid there was a short somewhere in the machine.
Never one to give up, I called every store in the area that carries dishwashers. I found one for $224 - brand new - and borrowed Momma's truck. A few hours later, our new dishwasher was running the first load of dishes, and it does a great job. In fact, I'm listening to it now.
And, can I just say that I'm feelin' pretty good about myself here? I'm no helpless girly-girl, for sure, but this is the first time I've done this type of project from start to finish completely on my own. Between the mechanical, electrical and plumbing aspects of the job, this has inflated my ego just a smidge.
***
All in all, I'd say it was a good week in our little yellow house. But I can seriously do without any additional appliance weirdness for a while. Here's hopin' the next week is on the quiet side, and we can have lots of uninterrupted family time.
Since we talked last week, a lot has happened. We've continued our daily trips to the local state parks, and The Princess continues to love it.
Don't believe me? Here's your proof:
Go ahead...just try to tell me that's not a happy kid.
She is still a major fan of the stroller rides, and I'm so unbelievably proud of her. Are you sitting down? No? Grab a seat. I'll wait.
Not only is our girl rockin' the big girl panties every day, but she's decided to take things up a notch. She now stops what she is doing, gets up, runs to her potty, goes, pulls up her drawers, removes the pee bucket from the pink froggy, and attempts to empty it into the toilet herself. Without being prompted. I mean, like, all by herself.
I know. I almost plotzed the first time it happened. And the second. And the third. I think I'm finally starting to get used to it.
Just shy of five and a half years of wearing diapers every single day...and it was so totally worth the wait. Sure, it took years of grueling potty training, but when this girl gets something, she gets it. There are no words for the pride I feel.
***
Thursday was Fall Picture Day at school. I have a hard time saying that without a snarky little whine creeping into my voice. Autism + Picture Day = Hell On Wheels for everyone involved. At least, that's been my experience over the last couple of years.
Unbelievably, this year seems to have been different. I'll have to reserve my final judgment for after we hear back from her teachers, but it doesn't seem to have thrown her at all.
Five minutes before our alarm was set to go off on Thursday morning, The Princess woke up and started singing. As we walked into our room, I noticed that her hair looked amazing. Yes, my girl, the one whose bedhead is epic and can last for days, woke up with not one single hair out of place.
We cruised through our morning routine with no hiccups, The Princess cooperating every step of the way. She even chose her own outfit for her school picture.
After putting her on the bus with her backpack and an in-case-of-emergency change of pants, The Hubbs and I returned to work.
No phone calls. No emails. No panicked correspondence of any kind. For Picture Day, it was eerily silent.
And then her bus arrived at the end of our driveway. She greeted us with a smile and a song, still wearing the outfit she had chosen that morning and giving no indication that anything remotely out of the ordinary had happened.
We were warned in advance that this year's pictures would be taken in the gym, and that this can often be unbearable for at least some of the kids in the autism program. No kidding. We live with one. Big, cavernous space + lots of antsy kids + waiting in line and being expected to do specific things = the mother of all meltdowns just waiting to happen.
But there was nothing. She was happy. No notes from teachers, aides, therapists. No worried calls from school nurses.
Nothing at all.
I can't wait to see this picture, y'all.
***
And in totally non-Princess-related news, we've been fighting with our dishwasher for some time now. We received it as a hand-me-down about six years ago. and I couldn't have been more thankful. There was no way we could have afforded one at the time, and, hey...it was free.
Over the last five or so years, I've torn that machine apart more times than I can count. My momma didn't raise me to be a needy little girly-girl, so I dive head-first into repairs in my own home the way she always has with hers. Probably a month and a half to two months ago, the dishwasher started acting up again, and I just didn't feel like I had time to check it out. Fast-forward to September, and The Hubbs and I were just totally O-V-E-R the idea of hand-washing everything. All meals in our little yellow house are made from scratch, and we do a lot of crock-potting and baking.
Something needed to be done.
I ripped apart the dishwasher yet again, pulled diagnostic codes from its onboard computer, flipped it on its back, removed and tested all of the electrical components and came to a decision. The capacitor and pressure switch alone would cost over $100 (plus shipping), and I didn't even know if that would fix the problem or not. My first attempt - replacing the heating element - didn't do it, so my usually sunny outlook was gaining more than a little cloud cover. With so many things testing in the bad-to-dead range, I was afraid there was a short somewhere in the machine.
Never one to give up, I called every store in the area that carries dishwashers. I found one for $224 - brand new - and borrowed Momma's truck. A few hours later, our new dishwasher was running the first load of dishes, and it does a great job. In fact, I'm listening to it now.
And, can I just say that I'm feelin' pretty good about myself here? I'm no helpless girly-girl, for sure, but this is the first time I've done this type of project from start to finish completely on my own. Between the mechanical, electrical and plumbing aspects of the job, this has inflated my ego just a smidge.
***
All in all, I'd say it was a good week in our little yellow house. But I can seriously do without any additional appliance weirdness for a while. Here's hopin' the next week is on the quiet side, and we can have lots of uninterrupted family time.
Monday, September 24, 2012
The Princess and the Pee: Part Two
Whatever you do, don't read this out loud. She'll hear you, and the spell could be broken. I hesitate to even type it.
Remember when I told you about how long The Princess has been using diapers of some kind?
And then when I got all excited about our recent potty training efforts and the leaps and bounds our girl has made?
For the last solid week, The Princess has been prancing around her world sans training pants. Did you hear that? We're only using Pull-Ups at bedtime now.
She's using the potty consistently, and there's a glint in her eye that says she gets it. She's proud.
She even holds it when we're out for a walk at the state park. For two hours.
On Saturday, she had her first pit toilet experience (You know, the ones that are like glorified outhouses? The ones that blow cold air up your butt and look like a 41-lb skinny minny of a thing could fall right in and never make it out? Mm-hmm. One of those.).
She'd been riding in her stroller over some really rough terrain for a couple of miles. We're talking straight up and down, bumpy stuff...yeah, that's right, we took her all-terrain stroller on the most difficult part of the trails. And it was awesome. I can still feel it in my shoulders.
We came up to a potty house, and The Hubbs and I could tell it was going to be pit toilets by the look of it. The Princess, however, hadn't experienced these things before. As I ran with her to the potty, she was getting visibly more excited by the moment. Her bottom was dry, and she was getting antsy.
I opened the door, she took one look around and tried to bolt. Fortunately, I caught her and was able to explain the situation. She very cautiously walked around the toilet on all sides, casting suspicious glances into its fragrant depths before looking up at me with one last plea.
"I can tell you have to go potty, Princess," I told her. "It's either this or have an accident in your pants, because it's going to be a while yet before we get back to the big building where we started."
She thought about this for only a moment before dropping her pants and hoisting her little bottom up onto the tall pot. The look on her face as the cold air hit her bottom was priceless.
It took a few seconds, but she went. And went. And went.
Grinning from ear to ear, she hopped off the pot and pulled up her panties and pants. She then proceeded to do laps around the toilet in an effort to figure out how to flush. I did my best to explain that this kind of toilet doesn't have a flusher, and she listened intently.
Finally, she decided that closing the lid would have to do. Leaving the little outhouse, we skipped back to her daddy, hand in hand, to complete our hike.
If my pride isn't evident through my words, maybe hers will be in this picture.
I am so unbelievably proud of this little girl, and I am once again in awe of how much the little things impact our lives every single day.
After nearly five and a half years of diapers and three to four years of potty training, we've arrived. I can't imagine any other victory that could be this sweet.
Remember when I told you about how long The Princess has been using diapers of some kind?
And then when I got all excited about our recent potty training efforts and the leaps and bounds our girl has made?
For the last solid week, The Princess has been prancing around her world sans training pants. Did you hear that? We're only using Pull-Ups at bedtime now.
She's using the potty consistently, and there's a glint in her eye that says she gets it. She's proud.
She even holds it when we're out for a walk at the state park. For two hours.
On Saturday, she had her first pit toilet experience (You know, the ones that are like glorified outhouses? The ones that blow cold air up your butt and look like a 41-lb skinny minny of a thing could fall right in and never make it out? Mm-hmm. One of those.).
She'd been riding in her stroller over some really rough terrain for a couple of miles. We're talking straight up and down, bumpy stuff...yeah, that's right, we took her all-terrain stroller on the most difficult part of the trails. And it was awesome. I can still feel it in my shoulders.
We came up to a potty house, and The Hubbs and I could tell it was going to be pit toilets by the look of it. The Princess, however, hadn't experienced these things before. As I ran with her to the potty, she was getting visibly more excited by the moment. Her bottom was dry, and she was getting antsy.
I opened the door, she took one look around and tried to bolt. Fortunately, I caught her and was able to explain the situation. She very cautiously walked around the toilet on all sides, casting suspicious glances into its fragrant depths before looking up at me with one last plea.
"I can tell you have to go potty, Princess," I told her. "It's either this or have an accident in your pants, because it's going to be a while yet before we get back to the big building where we started."
She thought about this for only a moment before dropping her pants and hoisting her little bottom up onto the tall pot. The look on her face as the cold air hit her bottom was priceless.
It took a few seconds, but she went. And went. And went.
Grinning from ear to ear, she hopped off the pot and pulled up her panties and pants. She then proceeded to do laps around the toilet in an effort to figure out how to flush. I did my best to explain that this kind of toilet doesn't have a flusher, and she listened intently.
Finally, she decided that closing the lid would have to do. Leaving the little outhouse, we skipped back to her daddy, hand in hand, to complete our hike.
If my pride isn't evident through my words, maybe hers will be in this picture.
I am so unbelievably proud of this little girl, and I am once again in awe of how much the little things impact our lives every single day.
After nearly five and a half years of diapers and three to four years of potty training, we've arrived. I can't imagine any other victory that could be this sweet.
Tuesday, September 4, 2012
Another Victory
With the exception of a handful of days, we've been swimming every single day this summer. Living a couple of blocks off the lake has turned out to be our saving grace this year. The Princess couldn't be happier than when she's in the water, and The Hubbs and I have come to depend upon it as well.
Our plans for Labor Day weekend included one thing: swimming. We wanted nothing more than to see how many hours we could spend at the lake over these last four days.
And then...
On Friday afternoon, we were at our neighborhood beach for about ten minutes or so before a guy came by on his boat telling us that he had received an email saying that the lake had been closed due to a bloom of blue-green algae that can be harmful to people.
We got out of the lake and went home, showering thoroughly to avoid any adverse effects. Checking the all-knowing Internet, our fears were confirmed: the lake was closed until further notice.
This is how we had planned to spend the long weekend:
Instead, we had to come up with alternatives. There were quite a few hits and quite a few misses along the way, but one alternative afternoon activity just kills me.
On Sunday, our girl was restless. She saw me outside watering my flowers and began to fuss. I called inside to The Hubbs, and we decided it would be a good idea to let her play in the sprinkler. She came out in her favorite ruffle-bottom bathing suit and had an absolute blast.
Our front yard is fenced in, so it's pretty great for our purposes. We let The Princess have her fun where we could keep an eye on her from the living room. Every couple of minutes, we'd see our girl grinning and running through the sprinkler, happily stimmy-fliddling little droplets of water.
And then...
The Hubbs peeked out the front window and exclaimed, "What the...?"
Well, naturally, I had to get up to see what was going on. And, boy, am I glad I did.
Stepping out onto our front stoop, I took in the view. The ruffly bottom of our girl's swim suit was lying discarded near the sprinkler, and she was streaking across the front yard and cackling at the top of her lungs.
Once we wrangled the streaker, we noticed something else was awry.
Mm-hmm.
The only question at that point was: where is it?
I took her inside, plopped her on the pink froggy potty to finish her business, cleaned up her little bottom, and got her set up with a new pair of panties and a Pull-Up. Leaving her with The Hubbs, I took a strip of TP out into the front yard to commence my search.
There it was, not far from where we caught her running, smack in the middle of the front yard. As I bent down to pick it up, this whole situation struck me as the funniest thing I'd ever heard.
I mean, here we are, trying so very hard to potty-train our girl. Each day, we celebrate tiny little victories like thinking to pull our pants down when we have to go.
Really, what was so wrong with this? In the middle of the front yard, in full view of the road and all of our neighbors, our little girl dropped trou and pooped. Because she had to.
It's all in our perception, y'all. This could have been a hugely negative experience for some people, but me...I prefer to see it as another victory.
Oh, and P.S. Her doggies are very proud of her. They've decided she's finally worthy of the title Bulldog In Training.
Our plans for Labor Day weekend included one thing: swimming. We wanted nothing more than to see how many hours we could spend at the lake over these last four days.
And then...
On Friday afternoon, we were at our neighborhood beach for about ten minutes or so before a guy came by on his boat telling us that he had received an email saying that the lake had been closed due to a bloom of blue-green algae that can be harmful to people.
We got out of the lake and went home, showering thoroughly to avoid any adverse effects. Checking the all-knowing Internet, our fears were confirmed: the lake was closed until further notice.
This is how we had planned to spend the long weekend:
Instead, we had to come up with alternatives. There were quite a few hits and quite a few misses along the way, but one alternative afternoon activity just kills me.
On Sunday, our girl was restless. She saw me outside watering my flowers and began to fuss. I called inside to The Hubbs, and we decided it would be a good idea to let her play in the sprinkler. She came out in her favorite ruffle-bottom bathing suit and had an absolute blast.
Our front yard is fenced in, so it's pretty great for our purposes. We let The Princess have her fun where we could keep an eye on her from the living room. Every couple of minutes, we'd see our girl grinning and running through the sprinkler, happily stimmy-fliddling little droplets of water.
And then...
The Hubbs peeked out the front window and exclaimed, "What the...?"
Well, naturally, I had to get up to see what was going on. And, boy, am I glad I did.
Stepping out onto our front stoop, I took in the view. The ruffly bottom of our girl's swim suit was lying discarded near the sprinkler, and she was streaking across the front yard and cackling at the top of her lungs.
Once we wrangled the streaker, we noticed something else was awry.
Mm-hmm.
The only question at that point was: where is it?
I took her inside, plopped her on the pink froggy potty to finish her business, cleaned up her little bottom, and got her set up with a new pair of panties and a Pull-Up. Leaving her with The Hubbs, I took a strip of TP out into the front yard to commence my search.
There it was, not far from where we caught her running, smack in the middle of the front yard. As I bent down to pick it up, this whole situation struck me as the funniest thing I'd ever heard.
I mean, here we are, trying so very hard to potty-train our girl. Each day, we celebrate tiny little victories like thinking to pull our pants down when we have to go.
Really, what was so wrong with this? In the middle of the front yard, in full view of the road and all of our neighbors, our little girl dropped trou and pooped. Because she had to.
It's all in our perception, y'all. This could have been a hugely negative experience for some people, but me...I prefer to see it as another victory.
Oh, and P.S. Her doggies are very proud of her. They've decided she's finally worthy of the title Bulldog In Training.
Tuesday, August 7, 2012
Who's Counting?
5 years, 3 months, 27 days: this is the current running count of how long we've been using diapers of some sort in this house.
1: this is the number of children in this house.
10: this is about the average number of diaper-type contraptions she's gone through on a daily basis for the last 5 years, 3 months, 27 days.
Some days, it gets so frustrating I could just scream. There are those days when it seems like every time I turn around, she's wet. No matter how many times she sits on her pink froggy potty (with this cute little face that mocks me relentlessly), she just can't seem to make it happen.
And then there are other days. It's like a switch; we're going to have a good day or a bad day. There is no in between. Typically, the stellar days are followed immediately by the rip-your-hair-out fests that leave us all exhausted by dinner time.
We have a budget for Pull-Ups, which we routinely break, but somehow I just can't bring myself to raise that number.
44: the number of generic potty training pants in a package that should last us two weeks in between paychecks.
13: the number of generic potty training pants remaining after less than one full week.
These were the numbers running through my head as The Hubbs and I discussed where the extra "dipe money" was going to come from last week (for those of you who are interested, we raided our gas fund).
Something has got to give. The Fabulous Mrs. G insisted at the end of last school year that our girl had no need for Pull-Ups at school anymore. We didn't understand how. Home has always been different somehow. Home is the land of regression and slipping effortlessly into old habits.
We've tried everything at one point or another. Everything.
Somehow, it seems like we consistently try things too early, and if we have the presence of mind to revisit them at a later date, we're nearly always pleasantly surprised.
And that's the phase I'm in right now: pleasantly surprised.
4: the number of days our girl has been wearing panties (under her generic potty pants)
3: the average number of soiled panties/dipes per day since we started this time
3: the number of dry nights in a row, including last night
I'm aware of the fact that these things ebb and flow (pardon the pun), and that I just need to roll with it. I'm aware of the fact that The Princess is not any of the other kids I know who were potty-trained at lightning speed during any part of almost four years we've been working on this skill in our little yellow house. I'm aware of the possibility that typing this all out loud could very well invite a hair-pulling bad day back in where things have been going so well.
I'm aware of all these things, but I just had to share this with you. Why? Because I really think you'll understand. Because, even though things are going well, sometimes it's easy to dwell on the negative.
Because, without sitting down and putting this into words, I wouldn't be able to see the biggest number clearly.
5 years, 3 months, 27 days: this is the running count of how long I've been a momma, the running count of time since my world changed forever. This is the running count of my new life, of time elapsed at the most important and fulfilling job I'll ever have.
But who's counting?
1: this is the number of children in this house.
10: this is about the average number of diaper-type contraptions she's gone through on a daily basis for the last 5 years, 3 months, 27 days.
Some days, it gets so frustrating I could just scream. There are those days when it seems like every time I turn around, she's wet. No matter how many times she sits on her pink froggy potty (with this cute little face that mocks me relentlessly), she just can't seem to make it happen.
And then there are other days. It's like a switch; we're going to have a good day or a bad day. There is no in between. Typically, the stellar days are followed immediately by the rip-your-hair-out fests that leave us all exhausted by dinner time.
We have a budget for Pull-Ups, which we routinely break, but somehow I just can't bring myself to raise that number.
44: the number of generic potty training pants in a package that should last us two weeks in between paychecks.
13: the number of generic potty training pants remaining after less than one full week.
These were the numbers running through my head as The Hubbs and I discussed where the extra "dipe money" was going to come from last week (for those of you who are interested, we raided our gas fund).
Something has got to give. The Fabulous Mrs. G insisted at the end of last school year that our girl had no need for Pull-Ups at school anymore. We didn't understand how. Home has always been different somehow. Home is the land of regression and slipping effortlessly into old habits.
We've tried everything at one point or another. Everything.
Somehow, it seems like we consistently try things too early, and if we have the presence of mind to revisit them at a later date, we're nearly always pleasantly surprised.
And that's the phase I'm in right now: pleasantly surprised.
4: the number of days our girl has been wearing panties (under her generic potty pants)
3: the average number of soiled panties/dipes per day since we started this time
3: the number of dry nights in a row, including last night
I'm aware of the fact that these things ebb and flow (pardon the pun), and that I just need to roll with it. I'm aware of the fact that The Princess is not any of the other kids I know who were potty-trained at lightning speed during any part of almost four years we've been working on this skill in our little yellow house. I'm aware of the possibility that typing this all out loud could very well invite a hair-pulling bad day back in where things have been going so well.
I'm aware of all these things, but I just had to share this with you. Why? Because I really think you'll understand. Because, even though things are going well, sometimes it's easy to dwell on the negative.
Because, without sitting down and putting this into words, I wouldn't be able to see the biggest number clearly.
5 years, 3 months, 27 days: this is the running count of how long I've been a momma, the running count of time since my world changed forever. This is the running count of my new life, of time elapsed at the most important and fulfilling job I'll ever have.
But who's counting?
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