For Now

At least once a day for the last two weeks, I've thought about writing a new post.  Every time, I don't feel as though I have enough minutes in my day to be able to sit down and just do it.

There's a lot going on around here, folks.  Stories about The Princess (good and bad), anxiety about my current work situation (we won't even go there today), random bits of silliness (which you should be used to by now), and much, much more.

But I just don't have the time to sit down and type them out.

Yet.

But I will.

Soon.

I hope.

For now, I'd just like to give a little shout-out to all of the mommas in my life.  To all of the women in my life who are Momma to someone else - yes, even those of you with fur-kids - I would like to wish you a nice, relaxing Mothers' Day with your broods.

I love you all.

We'll talk soon...promise.

Things I Love About The Princess: #642

The other night, after using her potty like a big girl, The Hubbs gave The Princess a small piece of chocolate. Her reaction? She started singing the melody to "Happy Birthday."

I'm Baaaaaack...

Okay, so I realize it may not have been obvious to all of you, given my sporadic posts of late, but I've been under the radar Internet-wise for the last few weeks.  The few times I've been able to post lately have been done from my iPod Touch - not an easy feat, lemme tell ya.

Due to connectivity issues with our Internet provider here at home, it seems like eons since I've been able to upload anything.  After work today, The Hubbs, The Princess and I took our tired old modem into the provider's office one town over and procured a replacement.

A replacement modem. 

A replacement modem that WORKS.

And so here I sit, blogging, uploading Easter pictures and The Princess's birthday pictures to Facebook, fiddling around with the stuff I haven't been able to do for the last month or so.  I have to admit...I'm kind of drooling a little here.

It's so nice to be back.

Oh, and since you didn't get a chance to see her outfit yet (thanks to Comcast), here are a couple of my favorite pictures of The Princess getting ready for school on her big birthday.

Have a good night, y'all.  If you need me, I'll be here.  On the couch.  Playing on the Internet.  Probably until the wee hours of the morning.  Well, after I catch up on Game of Thrones, that is.  ;)

Five

My dear, sweet Princess,

It was five years ago today that you arrived and immediately started ruling my world.  As of 4:42 PM on April 11, 2007, everything about my life changed.  All of a sudden, nothing else mattered.

You, my dear, are my purpose in life.

You are my greatest accomplishment.

I look at you this morning and marvel at the leaps and bounds you've made, at the things you've learned. 

At the things I've learned.

Little girl, you've already taught me so much more than I could ever hope to teach you.

This doesn't happen often, but I'm at a loss for words.  Just remember I'm here for you.  In your darkest hours, in your most weightless fits of joy, and in every time between: I'm here for you.

I love you.

Happy, happy fifth birthday, my sweet.

Love,
Momma

Proud

Family picture: Easter 2012

The Princess absolutely loves Nana and Grampy's hill.

Don't believe what I said above?  Here's more proof.  :)

You should have seen her, y'all.  My girl, the one who would scarcely make more than a second's eye contact a mere eighteen months ago, flaunted her advancing social skills all over the place on Sunday.

She ran and played with her cousin.

She ran and played with her daddy.

She ran and played with me.

She approached her great aunt and numerous other grown-up family members without prompting, made eye contact, and engaged them in interactions too numerous to count.

She showered us all in smiles and giggles.  The audio from one of the video clips just kills me.  She cackles, sings and squeaks.  She and her cousin scream together in glee as they fly down the hill with Auntie G.

Sure, she spent a good amount of time in her quiet room, but - dammit - The Princess gets better and better at being around our huge, rowdy family every time we get together.

I can't begin to tell you how proud I am of her.

Happy And

"When I got to school, I was _________."

This is one of many lines on the daily communication sheet that The Princess brings home in her backpack. This sheet is a great tool for her teachers, therapists and aides to tell us what happens at school...and for us to tell them what's going on at home.

Today's communication sheet started with this:

"When I got to school, I was happy and passing out hugs to my classmates."

That, my friends, is all. Really, I couldn't imagine asking for more.

IEP Fun

Yesterday was our annual IEP meeting, which fell at the perfect time for a much-needed day off from work.  The Hubbs and I sent The Princess off to school and busied ourselves getting ready for our 10:00 meeting with her team.

Now, I have to say that we are extremely fortunate.  I know I don't say it enough, but our girl has been blessed with a team of professionals who genuinely care for and about her, and everyone in that room is 100% on her side during every one of these meetings.  So many times when I read or hear about an IEP, the parents are fraught with worry and concerns for the wellbeing of their children.  I am so very thankful for The Fabulous Mrs. G. and the team of professionals that work with the kids in The Princess's class.

As expected, this meeting went very smoothly.  Our girl has met or exceeded four of her six goals from our last evaluation.  She is showing gigantic amounts of progress in many areas, including her ability to follow directions.  The team is very impressed - as are we - with The Princess's ability to retain multiple melodies, and we're all going to work on adding to her repertoire of songs as well as general imitation.

Since The Princess is turning five next month, she'll be entering kindergarten when the next school year starts.  This was one of my concerns going into the meeting; I wasn't sure if she'd be with her same team, or even in the same school.  Since everything is done through the county's special education district, the programs are spread around the area.  The program she's currently enrolled in is called Pre-K Pals, so I was a bit worried about what would happen when kindergarten started.

I needn't have worried.  We've been assured that she will remain in Mrs. G.'s class at least through kindergarten.  After that, she may move across the hall into Miss A.'s class with some of the older members of the autism program.  The bonus to this is that Miss A. is her summer school teacher, so we're not looking at a complete upheaval of The Princess's routine or team anytime soon.

So, I'd like to take this time to send up a quick prayer of thanks.  It's nice to know that The Princess is looked out for, and I wouldn't trade any one of these guardian angels for all the chocolate in Fannie Mae.

Kind of a Long Day

Sitting alone on the couch, watching "Pretty in Pink," my eyes are starting to slam shut.

It's been kind of a long day.  Good, but long.

And it occurs to me that I haven't heard a peep from The Princess in quite some time.

The poor kid just couldn't even bring herself to get into bed.  She fell asleep in a pile of Pillow Pets, and it actually took me a minute to locate her when I went in her room to see how she was doing.

I'm happy to report that The Princess has been relocated to her pink hippo tent, along with her Pillow Pet brigade and blankies.  They are all resting comfortably, and I don't think I'm far behind them.

Rambling

Wow.  It's been a while, I know.  Grab yourself a cup of tea - don't worry about me; I've already got one - and let's sit down and chat.

How've you been?  Sorry for being MIA for so long.  A lot has happened around here, and I'm not really sure where to even begin. 

(Buckle your seat belts, folks...here comes a rambling post in which I'll try to catch y'all up on everything at once, and we all know how well that usually works out!)

The Grumps went a little nutso for Christmas and spent too much money on The Princess.  Big surprise, I know.  This year, her present from them involved a trip to the Stride Rite store for new shoes.  Her previous pair of Stride Rites had lasted what seemed like forever, and the Velcro was wearing out, so we had to bite the bullet and get a new pair.  Which she wore a hole in - I'm talking through the rubber and the underlying leather - in just under two months.  Yep.  That's my girl!  This resulted in a funny letter home from The Fabulous Mrs. G., followed by an evening trip to WalMart for a new pair of $10 Garanimals sneakers.  If she's causing blowouts in her shoes that quickly, I'd rather chew on shards of broken glass than continue to pay Stride Rite's prices.

Grumpa.  Oy.  Grumpa.  For those of you who come here to read all about The Princess and nothing but The Princess, you may not be aware of the fact that my pop had a pretty major heart attack eight years ago, at the ripe-old age of forty-seven.  On February 2, he went in for an angiogram and ended up being admitted to the hospital where I work.  On February 3, he had triple bypass surgery.  He was in the hospital for a grand total of nine days before being released into Gumma's care at home.  This past Thursday, he had his first follow-up doctor visit, and everything looks good.

This past week, I got a promotion at work...yippee!  I'm still lovin' the concierge gig, and I sincerely hope it lasts a good, long time.

On January 22, my beautiful, sweet, hilarious sister-in-law (affectionately referred to as Jello in our little yellow house) gave birth to an amazing little girl.  JAKE (Jello's whole family...their acronym is way better than ours - if you put all our initials together, the best you come up with is SCABS) came in to visit from Ohio this weekend, and The Hubbs and I were really, really looking forward to meeting little E and hanging out with our beloved K-Bear.  Unfortunately, The Princess is a bit under the weather, so we were unable to see them after all.  On the bright side, it sounds like they will be back in about a month for E's baptism and Jello's and my combined birthday party.  If anyone is sick that weekend, we're throwing them in a bubble and calling it a day.

On January 31, my ex-work-hubby and his beautiful wife welcomed their first child, a beautiful baby boy.  This is the dude who kept me sane at the end of my tenure at my previous job, when things got hairy.  We don't see each other much (in fact, the last time we all got together in real life was in June of last year), but these people are family.  R, D, and Junior, The Hubbo Family couldn't be more excited for you.

And now, the subject you've all been waiting for...I just know it: The Princess.  Our girl is still the most amazing little person I've ever had the pleasure of meeting.  Not an hour goes by that doesn't involve her doing something that astonishes me.  Case in point: the hour-long snuggle earlier today.  My little introvert is coming out of her shell.  Sure, she still spends an inordinate amount of time in her room, but she now makes a point of coming out into the living room every so often, initiating eye contact with either me or The Hubbs, and climbing into one of our laps. 

There are so many other things I want to tell you about our girl, about the progress she is making and about the ways she warms my heart, but my teacup is woefully empty.  And this can only mean one thing: time for bed.

Before we part ways, dear friends, I promise you I'll start trying to post more regularly.  Please note the operative word in that promise: try.

In the mean time, say hello to your families for me...and don't forget to turn off your computers and cell phones every once in a while to spend some precious time together.

Skål

In my life, I've had lots of friends.  I was never "popular," but I have always tended to be one of those weird floater people, getting along with pretty much everyone and having friends in each of the different groups.  Out of the hundreds of people I'd call friends over my lifetime, I can count the true lifelong friendships on one hand.

There's a lot to be said for casual friendships, but it's this elite group of one-handers who enhance my life.  I can't even begin to stress enough the importance of having people close to me who understand and accept The Princess for who and what she is...no questions asked.  

One of these one-handers happens to be The Hubbs' best friend, fondly referred to as Uncle D in our house.

This man is extraordinary in so many ways.  Born in Denmark, he has traveled the world and has more entertaining anecdotes than anyone else I've ever met.  When he was eight years old, Fate dropped him in the States (Thank you, Fate!), where he's resided ever since.

With all of the amazing things D has done in business, travel, music, film and countless other ventures, I am most taken with the fact that he has been a brother to The Hubbs for 20+ years.  The boys don't see each other nearly as much since The Hubbs moved up to our little yellow house, but when they get together, it's as though no time has passed.

D, I want you to know that we all love you and consider you part of our family.  Happy, happy 40th birthday, my friend.  

Skål.

Still Here

Just a quick note to let y'all know I'm still here.  I'm really starting to enjoy the fact that I don't have to run around so much anymore, and - as predicted - I'm finding plenty to fill my time.

In case you're wondering what I've been up to, hop on over to my crochet blog to see my latest project.  It's a doozie!

Resolve

In 2012, I resolve to:

Take more time for me and my family.
Stop spreading myself so thin.
Enjoy things more.

See y'all soon.

Accomplishment

Thursday, December 15, 2011
5:00 pm

This has been one hell of a day.  Mom and I wrapped a ton of presents at work today, after which I hightailed it home to grab my cap and gown, only to fly right back out the door again after about twenty minutes with The Hubbs, The Princess and The In-Laws.

I'm now standing in line in a room I never noticed before, tucked away next to the commons at school.  Like a good little sheep, I've found the line I belong in based on my last name, and now I'm moving forward at a snail's pace.

Oh.  It's my turn.

I give the lady my name, and she hands me a card with my name spelled phonetically on it.  I ask if there's anything else, and she relinquishes a Ziploc baggie with a bright gold cord inside.  I'm in danger of tearing up, so I thank her and walk across the room to trade in my coat for the aforementioned cap and gown.

The cord is for high honors: grade point averages of 3.75 and up.  I'm one of about ten in the graduation class of 200+ who has received one of these cords. 

An hour and a half later, feet aching from standing in line for so long, I'm slightly disenchanted.  I'm wondering why in the world I am bothering to walk at all.  Having kept in contact with The Hubbs since my family arrived, I'm acutely aware of the fact that this is about the worst place in the world for The Princess.  She's miserable.  Grampy has already left the auditorium with her and is presumably chasing her in some quiet recess of the school.

Finally - finally - the line starts moving.

I head into the auditorium, where the band is playing "Pomp and Circumstance."  The bleachers and chairs are completely packed.  I can't find my family anywhere, though I'm trying my damnedest to sneak a peek as discreetly as possible.

We file to our seats.  I'm in the front row.  The college president and board of trustees start their hullabaloo on the stage in front of me, and my irritation melts away.

Does it feel cheesy?  Sure.

Is it worth it?  You're damn right, it is.

At one point during the hullabaloo, graduating students with white cords (indicating honors - 3.5-3.74) are asked to stand, followed by those of us with gold cords.  I stand, and I'm in real danger of crying now.

Not to worry, though.  When I sit back down, my cell phone slides down out of its place in my bra (Don't look at me like that.  I couldn't get to my pockets with the graduation gown on, and I needed to be available in case The Hubbs needed me for some reason.) and onto my belly.

Shit.

As discreetly as possible, I unzip my graduation gown and retrieve my runaway (hot pink...I know, very subtle) cell phone.  Zipping my gown back up, I rearrange my cords and return the offending phone to its spot, where I sincerely hope it will remain for the rest of the ceremony.

As if on cue, my row is beckoned to line up to receive our diplomas almost immediately following my phone fiasco.  I follow the people in front of me, spotting Gumma and Nana with their cameras.  Ever the distinguished individual, I make a face at them on my way to the ramp that leads to the stage.  Gumma takes a very attractive picture, and Nana even manages to capture it on video.

A short while later, my name is called.  I head across the stage wearing my cap, gown, and coveted gold cord.  I receive my diploma holder.  I'm gently herded over to the president of the college for a photo op before heading down the ramp and back to my seat.

On my way back, I hear a stage whisper: "Amy!"  Looking to my right, I see my favorite Spanish teacher grinning and giving me a thumbs-up.

The rest of the ceremony goes by in a blur.  All of a sudden, we're switching our tassels to the other side.  We've done it.  We've graduated.

The band starts up again, and the graduates are filing out of the auditorium.  Passing through the doors, I think, "That's it," just before realizing the entire faculty is lining the corridors back to the cafeteria.  They're clapping and cheering, and the sound is deafening.  I am grinning from ear to ear while simultaneously wishing I could find The Princess and get her the hell out of here.

The commons area fills up in no time.  I'm trying to organize a meeting with my family, so even though all I want to do is look for them, I force myself to stay put.  I've told them I'm right next to the Christmas tree, so that is where I shall stay.

There they are!  I see The Hubbs breaking through the crowd in my direction, accompanied by an extremely distressed little girl.  She has the eyes of a caged animal, and I can tell it won't be long before she hits her absolute limit.

We head back into the room where I started at 5:00 this afternoon, which is blissfully quiet and empty during this exciting time.  The Princess runs back and forth and back and forth and back and...you get the idea, stopping only to stim with the tassels on the ends of my gold cord.

Once our whole group is back together, we head for our cars and make our way home to relax and gorge ourselves on pizza from our little local place.  This is a much better idea than going out to eat, considering The Princess's evening thus far.  I just can't imagine subjecting her to any more noise or commotion tonight.

As we're sitting together in the living room of our little yellow house, it hits me.  I did it.  And I am well aware of the fact that this never would have happened without these people who love me.  These people who I love.

Thank you, guys.  You know who you are.

Aftermath

Looking back on this December, it's no wonder it seemed to me like it's been on steroids.  In addition to the usual holiday stuff, I had my final two weeks of classes, followed by a graduation ceremony, smack in the middle of the busiest time of the year at work.

It really was on steroids.

I've been goin' 240 with my hair on fire since about a week before Thanksgiving, and I think my body's trying to tell me something.  This week, in the aftermath of Christmas, I've been ready for bed by approximately eight o'clock each evening.

I'm gonna go ahead and take my body's advice, in the interest of not completely burning out.  Stay tuned for updates about graduation, Christmas, and everything else that's happened this month.

Just as soon as I catch up on some rest.

'Twas the Week After Christmas

For all of my fellow customer service professionals (especially my coworkers, for whom this was really written), this post proves I spent way too much time over the weekend fantasizing about how dead work would be this week.

And, so, without further ado, I give you: 'Twas the Week After Christmas.

***

‘Twas the week after Christmas, and all through the site

You could hear a pin drop; it was quiet as night.

No cutting, no ripping, no tape-tearing sound,

No more scraps of paper fluttering to the ground.

The gift card rack looked pathetic and light,

But at least there was time to make everything right.

Just over the shell-shock, all the reps took a gasp.

We surveyed the damage and got down to the task.

The gift cards were straightened, the paperwork stowed,

The leftover gift wrap tucked away with the bows.

Email inboxes were cleaned, and reminder lists;

Cryptic Post-Its deciphered and handled and pitched.

Shelves were straightened and desks wiped down,

Decorations gathered from all around.

Computers, printers, and faxes unburied,

To their rightful places the last objects were carried.

Having just lived through the week that is our biggest fear,

We reps can now rest and ring in the New Year.

Though the battle scars are fresh and our backs still in pain,

We have almost a year 'til we do it again.

***

Story Time: Part Two

Feeling emboldened by our recent "successful" story time (and by successful, I mean she stayed in the same room with me and the book remained intact), I thought I'd give it another shot.

Around 8:00 on Tuesday evening, I grabbed my Winnie the Pooh treasury, held out my hand for The Princess, and we walked into her room together.  What happened there was nothing short of extraordinary.

She hopped up in bed and snuggled up with Arlington and DP, her twinkling eyes looking at me expectantly.

I started reading.

She smiled and squirmed around a little bit, and - at one point - left the room for about thirty seconds.

I kept reading.

She came back in, surveyed her surroundings, and climbed in my lap.  Arlington joined us, and the more I read, the more The Princess melted into me.

We got through the entire second story in this treasury, one about Pooh and Piglet building a house for Eeyore.  When I stopped reading and closed the book, my girl turned her sleepy little eyes on me and gave me a hug before settling in with Arlie and DP again.

The Hubbs and I tucked them all in, and I'm still amazed. 

Story Time is becoming a nightly occurrence in my house.  No doubt about it.

Today is the Day...and I Done

Graduation is tonight!

*

A few nights ago, The Princess came into the living room holding an unidentifiable object. When I asked to see what she had, she brought it to me and immediately handed it over.

Upon closer inspection, the object revealed itself as a completely harmless piece of paper. As soon as I realized this, I returned it to The Princess.

She took it for a split second, smiled, and handed it back while looking me in the eye.

And then she said, "I done."

And she walked away as though this is nothing out of the ordinary.

Me? I'm still trying to catch my breath.

1...and Story Time

One more day until graduation.

*

The Princess is four and a half years old.  She does not speak.  She will stim all day if you let her.  She rarely (if ever, depending upon who you are) responds to verbal requests, though this particular point is getting better on a daily basis for those closest to her.  She has sensory issues.  The littlest thing can set her off.  Try as I might, I can rarely figure out what triggers her meltdowns.  All I can do is hold her and soothe her the best I can.

All of the autism stuff aside, this has got to be the most generally happy kid I've ever had the pleasure of knowing, and I consider myself lucky as hell that God chose me to be her momma.  I feel blessed every day for what I have with her, her daddy, and our splendiferous pooches.

But my heart breaks a little every day, too.  Other moms of four-and-a-half-year-olds are taking them to see Santa at the mall, having their pictures taken with their smiling faces reflected perfectly in the camera lens.  These other little ones are writing their names and holding amazing conversations.  They sit quietly in their rooms and read, because they want to.

The Princess couldn't possibly understand an abstract concept like Santa Claus.  She can't tell anyone what she wants for Christmas, because she doesn't speak.  She also has no interest in television or most other things that are marketed for kids her age, so it's a moot point, anyway.  Taking a picture with a stranger in a loud, hot, crowded mall?  Forget about it.  Writing?  Not yet.  We're still in the I'd-rather-eat-crayons-than-draw-on-the-paper stage.  Conversations?  I'd be happy with the ability to say yes and no.  Hell, I don't even care if it's verbal.  Shaking or nodding her head would be the coolest thing in the history of the world.  Reading?  More like tearing the pages out of books and stimming to her heart's content with the scraps.

Our girl has received many books, as most little ones do.  The difference between her and these other kids is that she doesn't seem to understand what books are all about.  After a few misguided attempts to let her figure them out, the surviving volumes have been moved to a safer place, out of her reach and - largely - out of our minds.

The Hubbs and I love to read.  I know a lot of people say this, but we mean it.  When given the option to watch TV or read a book, we'll almost always choose the latter.  Throw on a little bit of classical music and we're good to go for the entire evening.  In case you're interested, we've been playing the heck out of Pandora's Mannheim Steamroller Christmas station lately. 

Sunday evening, The Princess climbed up on the loveseat with me while I was reading, and she snuggled up next to me in the sweetest little hug.  After drinking in her affection for a few minutes, I slipped to the basement where her books are, and I grabbed two choices: the original Winnie the Pooh treasury and Wet Albert. 

I brought both books upstairs and gave her a choice.  She chose Pooh Bear, so I put Wet Albert away for the time being and The Princess, Pooh, and I went into her bedroom.

I read her the entire first short story, one about Piglet and a Heffalump, before bed.  Did she sit still?  No.  Did she hang on every word?  No.  But she paid attention in her way.  She spent those 20 or so minutes in constant contact with me, climbing all over me as I read her the story.  From time to time, I asked what she thought, and she mumbled back at me.  Not in English, but hey...I'll take what I can get.  I stopped a couple of times to either rearrange myself or take a breath, and she went forehead-to-forehead with me until I started again.

She loved it.

I loved it.

Finally.  She's four and a half, and I can finally have story time with my daughter.

2...and Spaghetti-O's

Two days until graduation.  Eee!

*

Remember when I told you about the pistachio pudding?  Well, apparently Spaghetti-O's are right up there.

This weekend, The Princess carefully spooned four bowls (in a row...my little bottomless pit!) into her mouth.  Sitting at her little white table (topless...I'm no fool), she shoveled that stuff in like it was goin' out of style.  Looks like we're entering yet another growth spurt for our little bean pole.

We've also noticed recently that she really seems to favor her right hand.  Seems like we might have a little righty living in the room next door.  :)

3...and the Potty

Three days until graduation.

*

So many things happened this weekend, I don't really even know where to start.  I guess I'll just start at the beginning and split into separate posts for each accomplishment.

Really.  They're all that big.

Well, here goes.

After work on Friday, I looked at The Princess and asked her if she had to go potty.  I wasn't expecting any more of a reaction than simple eye contact.  I'm not new here.  I know how this goes.

Not only did I receive the expected eye contact, but she also smiled, walked across the room, pulled her pants down, sat on her pink froggy potty, and went.

For those of you who may be missing the magnitude of this event, let me spell it out a little more clearly for you.

My girl followed a verbal request.  My girl.  Verbal.  No coaxing.  No leading.  No modeling.  I asked her something, she immediately understood, and she did it.

Now, going on past experience, I'm well aware of the fact that these breakthroughs can sometimes be a shot in the dark.  Some people call them "Elvis sightings," a term with which I am in love.  It's the perfect explanation.  You never know when or where they're going to happen, but when they do, it's amazing.  And you never know if they'll happen again.  Like, ever.

Let me just reassure you here: this was no Elvis sighting.  By Sunday, she was pulling her pants down and walking to the potty herself when she had to go.  Okay, so the sequence is something we have to work on.  We don't want her letting the cat out in public to show she has to go potty, but, hey...this is progress.

Baby steps, y'all.  Gigantic, wonderful baby steps.