Preschool, throw up, and mascara

I have had a horrible headache all day. It's not a migraine, but it's bad enough that I actually enjoy picturing my brain exploding all over the place. I assume after a brain explosion my headache would be gone.

For about a year, the goal has been that Isaac would begin preschool when he turned three. Because he has "special" needs, this label qualifies him for free therapy from the school district, beginning at age three. About three weeks ago, we were forced to end private therapy because the fund we were receiving ran out of money. And as you all know, our insurance does not cover therapy for those who truly need it. Shame on them. So, we have to be creative. Today I mailed out a grant application, and if we receive the grant, it will cover speech therapy for a little while. Also, it should come as no big surprise that we don't have five hundred dollars a week to pay for therapy. It's okay though. Honestly, a break from the therapy routine is somewhat welcome, and we've settled nicely into not having to be anywhere on Wednesday mornings.

So...preschool. Isaac and I went to meet his teacher yesterday, and see the room he will be in. Initial thoughts: the teacher was nice, the kids were nice, the room was a complete disaster, they hadn't received any of the faxes they should have received to complete the PT and OT evaluations...we have to go back two times next week. Oh, and I cried when we got back to our car. I have literally held Isaac for more hours of his life than not held him (I have a really buff left arm), which is not a bad thing, it has been tiring, and annoying at times, but it has just been our life. With that said, I'm having a really hard time thinking that I will be able to leave him and trust someone else with him. It didn't help that one of the kids threw up on the floor and I was imagining all of the disgusting things he would be around...like, other kids, for example. Kids can be pretty gross. After the throw up incident, I considered grabbing Isaac and climbing out a window (the door was blocked by puke).

After the visit, I decided to run a couple errands to clear my head. I needed mascara (very essential item), so we stopped at Macy's, where, I started crying at the make-up counter. It should go without saying that I asked for the long lasting mascara...emotional breakdowns tend to come unannounced, so at least I would be prepared with bold, extended lashes.

All of my friends who have children with special needs tell me that preschool is amazing, and I'm sure it will be, I just have to let all of this sink in.

Isabella took this picture this morning. I was so excited that one of my children actually wanted to be in a picture with me. Isn't he the cutest thing you've ever seen? 

Story-time adventures...

As I crawled into bed...
"I hope you have the heat set high enough that the pipes won't freeze."
"Well, that all depends on the temperature that pipes freeze."
"Below 40." According to a quick search, your home should be at 50 degrees or higher. 
"Oh, don't worry then! I keep it at 58 at night! And Babe, just so you know, as a special treat just for you, I turned up the heat to 68 before you came home from work. We don't want your little toes to get cold!"
Wimp.

As you all know, Isaac has taken off and is walking everywhere! I love it, and he's doing so well. He even tries running and jumping, which makes me laugh every time. He's starting to feel like one of the big kids, which I think is helping him make progress in areas where we felt stuck for a long time. Our goal for walking, was age three. So we are still in that, "oh my goodness you just walked into the office and found me!" stage. It's a lot of fun.

With Isaac's therapy schedule, we miss out on regular story-time for him, so last month I decided to take the kids to an evening story-time offered by Isabella's preschool director. After we walked in and the kids started playing, and parents were sharing their child's ages and stages, I quickly started to feel a little down. There were three other two and a half year old boys, and those situations are hard for me. The differences become more apparent, and my instinct is to just grab my child and go so that I don't have to see how behind we are. I wanted to leave, and I probably would have if Isabella wasn't already engrossed in a craft and Isaac was already attached to train table.

I'm so glad we stayed, because Isaac amazed me. He did every hand motion; he stood up and took part in the dancing and pretending; he listened to every story. It was the best night I've had in a long time. I watched him follow along with the other kids, and couldn't stop the tears from coming. The pictures in this post are from story-time at the same place, but during the day. Once again, he did a great job, and I am so proud of him.

His job was to hold a hat for one the songs they acted out...

Kindergarten is going well. Some days are good, other days I want to drop her off at the nearest elementary school. Here we are doing a science experiment with water, oil, and food coloring.

Watching and waiting...

I love when we come home from the library with a pile of books, and they sit down and go through all of them.

Lately, my house has looked like that scene in Toy Story 3, where the daycare class runs into the room and the toys basically explode everywhere. Except, in my house, there are only two kids. This is an example of very purposeful toy distribution. A parking lot. And if anyone dared to touch it, well, then we had a very angry five year old on our hands.

We love reading any book by Mo Willems. Walter doesn't understand why we think they're so funny. Truth be told, we just have a better sense of humor. Blarggie! Blarggie! 

With the new furniture, we have new house rules. One of those rules is: NO DOGS ALLOWED on the furniture! Stella acts very pathetic, and saunters off to our room when we tell her she isn't allowed on the couch. Then I find her there in the middle of the night. Bad dog!

It took me close to an hour to put together this Lego airplane. Isaac sat and intently watched the entire time.

Making music for our dance party.

And lastly, some cute kids I know...

My response to an article...

I read this blog. And I've definitely gone through stages where I couldn't read it, because Kelle is just too darn happy about everything. And she makes a life where special needs is involved seem perfect, and beautiful, and full of harmony. Well, I'm not here to crash the party, or at least I don't want to, but darn it, when the only way your child is fed, is through a tube, and due to your own forgetfulness you don't clamp the little white clamp on the extension set, and then while they're sleeping in the car, the tube pops open, and they puke out God only knows how many precious ounces of fats and calories, that's when special needs really blows. 

I read this article earlier this week when Kelle posted it for Down Syndrome Awareness Month. I left the article feeling a variety of emotions. The first one was anger, because for us and for most of the people I know in the special needs community, we/they do not have in-home therapy services. That would cost a fortune. Sure, that would be fabulous. To not have to worry about child-care for Isabella, packing up the feeding pump and supplies, diapers, spare clothing in case the contents of ones stomach empty by accident, and snacks, there must be snacks because obviously, Isabella will be starving the minute we arrive anywhere. Yeah, I think I could easily get used to therapy in my home. I'd even vacuum a little bit more so that they wouldn't leave my house with a good helping of Stella. 

As stated in the article: 

"Mothering a child with special needs? Well, that's the easiest part. Yes, there are challenges—because life is hard—but we are equipped to deal with them. Loving your child—regardless of how many chromosomes he or she might have or how many times you worry about the future or when and how she learns to read—it's like breathing. It's what you do, without even thinking. You love your child. You believe in your child. You fight to make the world a better place for your child. And that? That never changes."

I completely agree, I do feel equipped to deal with whatever challenges are ahead of us. And one of the only reasons I feel that way is because of the love I have for Isaac, and the amazing bond the two of us have with each other. The other reason, is my faith. Some people don't believe that God still performs miracles, but I believe that Isaac proves that miracles still happen. I would do anything for Isaac (and Isabella). I will fight for him to end. I do not believe that anyone is fit to fill my shoes (except maybe my mom, because she doesn't put up with any crap, and I've learned most of my survival skills from her). 

The only problem becomes the mothering part. Like my friend told her daughter's psychologist (sorry Laurie, I'm going to steal your words), "you don't want to be in this club". Sure, a new world is opened up to us. One that we didn't fully understand until Isaac came along, but the truth of the matter is, I'm no longer just a mom. I'm a physical therapist, an occupational therapist, a speech therapist, a feeding therapist, a nutritionist, a maker of blended meals, a care-taker of a g-tube, and then, on top of all of that, I have to try to feel normal, and remember to just be a mom. So no, in my opinion, mothering is not the easy part. Loving, yes, that's the easy part. Mothering a child who is par for the course, that's easy. And I didn't realize that with Isabella. At the time, I didn't realize that when we played with the shape sorter and she knew her shapes and colors in no time at all, that it would ever require more work than that. I took for granted that she stood up and walked, fell down, stood up again, fell down, and did it all over again, and within a few weeks was walking. Oh, and the feeding, wow was I naive. 

I love my children without thinking--that's a given. But caring for Isaac without thinking? Nope. Trying to figure out our next steps to take with him, following through on his goals, setting the stage for progress and success, planning out appointments, following up with all of the right doctors, that all takes a lot of thinking. And often, all of that thinking is really annoying and takes away from mothering. 

I agree with Kelle, I too have changed since Isaac's birth. I too am stronger, and have learned things that I never thought I would learn. And that is the truly wonderful part of this journey. But there are so many layers to this onion. There are the layers of grief, and acceptance, and the affect on your marriage, and "typical" siblings, and the list goes on and on. Some day, I want to share all of those layers. Not only for me, but for people who are becoming more aware of children and adults with special needs, and also for the people who are "in this club" and quite possibly need someone to relate to. 

Oh, and for the record, the designer of Britax car seats must have had issues with his parents, and decided to take out those issues on any parent who ever had to take apart the car seat to wash it. 

Can you tell that Isabella loves when I take her picture? 

Evelyn...

This picture has "I'm five, and I have an attitude" all over it. 

I can officially say that Isaac is walking, more than he is scooting. It's awesome!

He thinks he's pretty funny. Oh, and he picked out the robot shirt and insisted that he wear it.

He kind of walks like a chicken, and it's super cute.

Socially, we've seen some really big improvements. That's Milo, with the overalls on. He's also Isaac's greatest enemy, except, Milo doesn't realize that, so the fact that they are standing at the same table and Isaac isn't screaming or pushing him, is huge.

SASHA NY

This morning I walked out to my car to find a nearly flat tire. I knew something was up with one of the tires on the driver side, so thank you, rear tire, for solving the mystery and owning up to being the problem child. I had to get Isaac to his therapy appointments, so I stopped at the gas station to fill the "problem child" up with some air. A Volkswagen GTI zipped in front of me and beat me to the air pump, and I must say, I was a little ticked off in that moment because I can't stand being late. But then, I read the license plate, "SASHA NY". So I had to see who was driving this car. As I watched and waited, in one quick, fluid motion, a woman stepped out of the car and popped open her umbrella like she was Mary Poppins. It was amazing. I was truly impressed with her ability to avoid a single rain drop. She then pranced over to the air pump, holding her umbrella at the perfect height, of course, and pumped up her tire without skipping a beat. She replaced the pump, checked her watch, and with the same ease, closed her umbrella and popped back into her car.

SASHA, you amaze me. You, in your perfect outfit, with your heels, and your perfectly done hair and make-up. Impressive. I wish I could wield an umbrella just like you do. Did you take lessons from Mary Poppins? SASHA has been making me mad all day. I can't stop thinking about her.

If I even had an umbrella (don't feel sorry for me, umbrella's are totally annoying so I don't want one), I'd probably stand outside of my car trying to get it to open, and then I'd probably poke my eye. And then, once I got to the air pump, I'd have to do that thing where you try to hold the umbrella handle like a phone, but in reality, it's too skinny for that, so it ends up falling over and it you get soaking wet anyway...yeah, that would be me. Instead, I choose to get wet. And I'm smarter than SASHA NY. I don't do my hair when it's raining. Silly SASHA.

SASHA NY, I know you probably have matching pajamas. That's totally boring. I bet even your bra and underwear match. It's okay, I'll let that slide. I tend to feel extra special too when my bra and underwear match. You probably wash your hair every day. Don't you think that's a bit excessive? I doubt you've ever had to sit at a sleep study, or go to a billion doctor appointments for your child who has special needs. SASHA NY, you're clueless. But I'll forgive you because you entertained me with your umbrella skills.

Cone of Shame

Stella came in the house this morning with a puncture wound on her leg. I have no idea how she got it and we've scoured the yard in an attempt to find the culprit. We made a trip to the Vet. to have it checked out, and much to Stella's embarrassment, she must bear the "Cone of Shame." 

Isaac's first drink of water...

He can blow bubbles with the straw, but won't actually take a drink. 

Isabella loves to draw and spends most of her free time coloring or drawing pictures for me.

When I was pregnant with Isabella I took a knitting class and worked on making two baby sweaters for Isabella and a few scarves. I didn't finish a single one of those projects. I'm happy to say, this baby blanket is my first completed knitting project. Despite the fact that the pattern had in the title, "Eight Hour Baby Blanket", this took way more than eight hours.

First fall craft.

Stella was feeling rather sad and in need of a lot sympathy regarding her wound. This led her to sit in a chair much too small for her so that she could catch my eye and look extra pathetic.

Isabella tried to comfort her with a few household items, including the Bible, so she could pray for healing.

It looks like her leg will be okay. She's on an antibiotic and pain meds. Isabella thought Stella might feel better if her cone was decorated. As she did this she kept telling Stella that she was so beautiful even with a cone on her head. Oh, and now Isaac is scared of Stella. Apparently, giant cones aren't his thing.