Brotha

Ok, so maybe I didn't waste years of my life on this TV show after all. Some good came from it.

I believe that, over the past four weeks, the question I've most frequently been asked is, "How is Playette adjusting to being a big sister?" or some version thereof.

The last time I posted, she was still a little iffy about him.

At first, if asked, she would say that she didn't want to hold him. I have some pictures of her first meeting with him, but I haven't the brain power to upload them from the camera quite yet. The scene went a little like this: Playette arrived with her friend, escorted by her friend's mom (who so graciously agreed to watch our child while I was in the hospital for much longer than I had ever planned). The girls were super cute, dolled up in dresses and matching hair bows. They were ready for a special occasion. But what did Playette do? Well, she acknowledged that there was a baby, but that was about it. The girls were much more interested in chasing each other around the curtain that surrounded my room door. When they left, Playette said goodbye to my belly, not the baby.

After the first week, she made a switch. I guess she figured that he wasn't going anywhere and perhaps she should get with the program. She added a couple of phrases to her lexicon. "S'alright, baby." "S'ok." But he still kinda intimidated her. (Not that I could blame her.)

Check out when she tried to give him a hug two weeks ago:

 

Since then, she has come around. Way around. She wants to protect him, hold him, feed him (ahem, not with a bottle), hug him, kiss him, push his swing (totally not necessary), change him, show him off. ALL. THE. TIME. A little Elmyra-esque. New phrase: "What's wrong, Dez?" in a little sing-songy voice

This was last week:

 

When I picked her up from school on Friday, one of the teachers told me how impressed she was with whatever we've been teaching Playette at home. Apparently, she is very attentive to the dolls, even moreso than before. I asked if she's been trying to breastfeed them and she hasn't...yet.

Overall, she's a happy big sister.

And other than her taking certain liberties with his umbilical cord stump two weeks ago, I'm pretty pleased with her showing, too.

Pee-Pee Pants and Preparation

Still pregnant. Just in case anyone was wondering.

Also? No signs of impending labor.

You do know that whole "due date" thing is just a suggestion, right?

Intellectually, I am aware of that fact as well, but there's just something about that day going by that does something to a gal. Add in the possibility of still having as many as twelve more days to go and...

Personally, it has made me certifiably loony. Either I'm laughing or crying. Eating or sleeping. One extreme or another. Moderation has gone out the window.

Yesterday, I spent quality time with my OnDemand. Never before had I shown interest in Celebrity Apprentice, but yesterday? I needed to watch the season. And then get unreasonably upset that I couldn't fast forward because I would fall asleep, the show would end, and then I'd wake up and have to start from the beginning. Again. And again. Talk about first world problems.

[I did actually learn something though. Clay Aiken's charity sounds amazing and him visiting the kids made me all teary.]

Today, I decided to make myself at least somewhat useful. I got up and showered and dressed. Before noon!

Wait. Just to clarify, I do wake up in the mornings. I am responsible for picking out Playette's clothes, doing her hair, and taking her to school. After that, I usually have good intentions, but many a day I end up back in the bed with the curtains drawn.

Because I'm that awesome. #notproud

Oh, and get this:

We rearranged our bedroom many weeks ago in order to get ready for the newbie. I gave up my nightstand and replaced it with a bassinet.

I have now turned the bassinet into a nightstand.

Turns out it's quite the convenient spot for the remote control and there's this little ribbon slot on the side that allows me to not have to reach to the floor, huffing and puffing, for my cell phone charger. It slides right in! Huzzah! And it's also a great place for my water bottle. Who knew?!

I promise that I'll adjust appropriately when the time comes.

Whenever that may be.

Gah.

So. Wondering how Playette is taking all of this?

I think she thinks that I'm the biggest liar ever. She's been waiting on this baby for a very. long. time. I am starting to think that she's going to be scarred for life when he does come because Dez is just supposed to live in my big belly FOREVER. Or so it seems.

We've been struggling with a lot of clinginess and attention-seeking behavior lately. And then there's the whole accident thing.

This week, there were three days in a row where Playette came home in her spare clothes. I just kept washing them and sending them back the next day. It made it easier for me to assess whether something had happened or not because my brain was having a hard time recognizing right away whether that was what she had worn that morning or not.

Enter the pee-pee pants.

They are teal and velour. They just barely still fit. They are obvious.

And I've seen them way too much this week.

We went from no worries in the land of toileting to my heart dropping every afternoon.

We've had conversations. Grown-up conversations about how amazing our bodies are that they tell us when to eat, drink, and...POTTY! Remember that part? Yeah. Stop waiting until the last possible second, kid. Or, maybe tell a teacher you have to go before you start? Because "I'm wet," is an awesome sentence and all, but it's not the most desirable use of your vocabulary at this particular time.

So now you see why I've been taking to my bed.

It's just stressful.

And, again, intellectually I know that other kids in her class may wear pee-pee pants, too, occasionally. I just don't want anyone to look at my kid (any more) differently. I want so badly for her to just blend.

*sigh*

In the effort to help her adjust better to the actual bringing home of baby, we went out today and got a few things. Since regression due to change related to a new sibling is totally normal, it was suggested by her teacher that we try to put her in a mommy-type role instead of allowing her the option of reverting back to that of baby when Dez arrives.

That meant going to the toy store today. (Good thing I got dressed!)

She got this:


And this:

And then we stopped at the library to check out this:


This was all pretty impromptu and we're not really the toy-buying types (Playette is just so content with what she has), so I hope it goes over well. The doll and gear will remain in the trunk of the car until needed and she's already "reading" the book. It seems perfect for her and this situation. BD really impressed me by finding the book in under three minutes, quite randomly, since we got to the library right before closing time.

I wish I could say that we put more thought into this whole thing, but we went from having sooo much time to having none, so, again with the winging it.

There's a full moon tonight, y'all. Think labor-inducing thoughts, 'k?

Um, hi...

For those of you that are sticking around and showing me grace through this very dry patch of writer's block, I thank you.

So. What have we been up to lately?

Playette knows the baby is coming. It's strange interesting to watch her behaviors change because it's like she has this 6th sense thing happening. I almost want to ask her when it's going to rain next. And for some lottery picks.

I do tend to forget that even though her speech is delayed that she understands so much more. I mean, honestly, Self...it's not like we don't talk about the baby coming when we're around her. Duh.

But, yet, still, I sit here amazed. Sometimes she's great, with the kissing of the belly and the "good morning/night, Dez*"s and then other times she's a pure-dee wack-a-loon and I have to worry about getting a call from school that's she's not welcome back the next day.

Which reminds me. I went to see Kathie Snow speak back on the 15th. At the end of her amazing talk, I spoke up during the Q&A. I thanked her for reminding me that it's ok for my kid to have a bad day. I struggle with that. A lot.

Talk about a ton of pressure to put on a four-year-old.

It's almost as if I expect perfection out of her, something that her classmates' parents probably don't worry about lofting upon the shoulders of their own kids because they are "currently undiagnosed" and no one feels like those littles need to be the [booming voice] Posterchildren of Successful Inclusive Practices [/booming voice].

But I do.

And good grief. I should really stop.

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Last week, BD went to NYC for "work" work. That was also my first week of not having to go in to my own job-away-from-home. Even though that meant I had more free time during the day while Playette was in school, being 37-38 weeks pregnant also meant that I was also scared that my child would not eat of be bathed for 4 days while he was gone.

Because my energy and motivation level these days? HA!

Thankfully, my aunt came to town to help me out. She also kept me busy, which was ideal.

Things got done! The house was clean! We ate! Playette had baths!

Proof that things got done:


First of all, I never would have thought to do such a thing as put together little outfits. And, second, to have them all cleaned (and ironed!) and ready to go on the changing table like that? HAHAHAHAHAHA. Yeah, right. I can barely remember where BD keeps the iron.

It was pretty awesome and I was sooo grateful. I still am. I hope we didn't scare her off and that she really will come back after the babe is here.

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Now, after all of that, we actually give off the illusion of being "ready."

It's still so mind-boggling to me that I have no idea when this baby is going to come. I mean, today is Monday. I'll be 39 weeks on Wednesday. At 39 weeks with Playette, I was in the hospital being induced.

Looking back, it was awful. Not the worst thing ever in the grand scheme of what can happen in life, sure, but not what I have in mind for this time at all. I pretty much look at what I want now and can say "the opposite of what happened last time" and it works out great in my head.

And with that comes waiting.

So it could be tonight. It could be next week. It could be mid-April. I just don't know. And I have to be ok with that on some level.

In the meantime, I need to spend my days doing something other than sitting on the couch watching Good Burger while texting my friends. I know this much is true.

Ok, so I also watched Waiting for Superman today. That has to be worth something. (scared the crap out of me, it did)

And then I went for a walk this afternoon. Two miles. I used to run it. Today I huffed and puffed and shuffled through it. But I survived. I may even try that again tomorrow.

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Since you're so patient with me, here is my gift to you. A belly pic!

Wait. Make that a few.

And it's the real deal, yo. You can actually see the belly.

Because while digging through bins in the attic, I came across this gem of a Wal-Mart tee that I bought in New Orleans when I was pregnant with Playette.

Whilst knocked up is pretty much the perfect time for wearing a shirt like this, I think. Showing a little skin makes it that much more classy.





* Dez is what we call the newbie. The nickname started a while ago and then stuck. Even though BD said it never would. Neener Neener. Basically, it's just BD's initials and since we can't seem to agree on a name, Dez he shall be until we come up with something better. If we ever come up with something better, that is.

Billboard Girl

I came across these photos the other day and I don't think I ever posted them. I'd like to place them here so that they're easier to find later on. They were taken by the NDSS photographer in Times Square, just prior to the 2011 NYC Buddy Walk in Central Park.

Music Class Trial

I must admit, the class was great! I really enjoyed it and so did Playette. Her two close friends were in there with her, too, which made it even better.

Another thing I noticed, because I do tend to look for these things, was that neither the other parents nor the teacher seemed phased by having a kid with Ds in the class. Shoot, let alone three! Not that I think they should, but...it happens. Often enough that I am aware to look for it.

The kids in the class? Kids are great. They don't care. Inclusion comes natural to them. People have to be taught to be jerks.

I feel much better about the girls not having 'asstics (heh) anymore and I do believe that I'll sign up and make this music thing official next week.

They start the kids (3-5 years old) with singing several songs each class. Yesterday, it was the US presidents and states and capitals.

Let's just say that I was reminded of how much I've forgotten over the years.

Our homework: "Washington, Adams, Jeff-er-soonnn..."

They went on to play a game that taught them the difference between the musical terms "piano" and "forte."

Next, they watched a couple of videos of people playing the trombone.

Trombone Shorty

Bach

They discussed the styles of music of those artists and how they differered.

And then?

They all freakin' practiced playing a trombone!


WHOA.

But they weren't done.

They learned how to find "D" on the keyboard. (I had no idea it was the white key between a pair of black keys.)

They played another game that taught them about the types of notes - quarter, half, whole, dotted, etc.

Mixed in was a song that taught the Preamble to the Constitution.

And the kids were having fun the entire time!

*swoon*

Of course my little was playing shy for some of it, but that'll pass, I'm sure.

Aaaannnd...it's $3 cheaper per month than 'asstics. Win-win.

*exhale*

Gymnasstics

What? That's not how you spell it?

So this whole gymnastics thing started out on a high note. The lady who taught the class used to offer one, gratis, to children with special needs via Special Olympics. For some reason, that stopped. I heard it low participation. I called her early in the summer after seeing a sign and asked if the class might start up again. She said she'd call me once school started and let me know. And she actually did. She told me the available time slot and offered a free trial throughout the month of September.

The following month, we began as full, paying customers. The number of children in the class fluctuated between two and three. I worked on helping the teacher reach more students, but, really, it was fine by us the way it was and the teacher never mentioned anything so we rode it out. The girls seemed to need more one-on-one interaction as they were easily distracted and seemed to work as a team to conspire against what they were supposed to be doing sometimes. It was all in good, four-year-old fun though.

They were super cute, and sometimes comical in their endeavors. Remember how I told you that Playette rolled like a triangle? That got better. In fact, everything was getting better for a while. She began to do amazingly well on the trampoline, started rocking the balance beam, followed instructions, and just seemed less afraid, overall. She was definitely the less adventurous of the twosome (read: scaredy cat), so every little bit was a huge victory in my eyes. She ran, she jumped, she had fun.

But then that stopped. I'm not sure what happened. Even I didn't want to go anymore. But I figured it was a phase for both of us and I was just tired after being at work all day and the whole human-growing portion going on.

And then I started noticing things. The instructor, an award-winning Russian gymnast who certainly knows her stuff, didn't seem to have the same rules for us as other classes. We parents were required to stay, while those in other classes were able to drop their kids off and come back when it was all done. I kinda let that slide and chalked it up to being part of the price of admission that came with the extra chromo. On one hand I understood that maybe more help was needed in keeping them on task. But then, I also couldn't help but think, "There are only two of them!"

Sometimes, we'd have other children in our class. Typically developing children whose parents maybe couldn't pick them up and they needed a ride home at the end of the night. That was fine if the kids were helpful. But sometimes they weren't and just added to the girls being distracted even further.

One evening, the teacher just up and left the class. I think this was right before Christmas and Playette may have been without her counterpart that day. I watched at the teacher went to meet the people who had entered the lobby and were obviously looking for her so that they could say hello after being away for a while. I fully expected her to offer some niceties and then explain to them that she was in a class. She didn't. She didn't even excuse herself from the room when she left. I gave her the stinkeye for what I now know was way too long and eventually she came back. I was really trying hard not to rock the boat. I didn't want to ruin this opportunity for both girls. But I am a huge customer service nut. And what she did by leaving my kid on the trampoline, leaving and coming back without ever saying a word to me about what happened? NOT COOL.

I also tried to give her an extra dose of grace by thinking that maybe what we were experiencing was some difference in cultural norms. Maybe in her eyes she wasn't being rude?

So, I sat back.

And then, when I was in TN earlier this month, BD reported back to me that one night another group of children (4) and instructors (2) were sharing the gym. He said that "our" girls were completely distracted, but the other people were only there for half of the class, so maybe it wasn't such a big deal. Maybe it was a one-time thing? Again, our instructor, the owner, said nothing.

I think it had been two weeks since the other class had been there when I showed up on Wednesday night and was met with a new group in the waiting area. I asked the other mom if these were the same people from before and she said yes. This time, though, they started at the same time we did. I made up my mind to address this with our instructor after class and let her know up-front that I needed to talk to her later. I watched to see how she would handle the girls running over to be with the other children instead of following her directions. Because they did. Several times. Also, what about when Playette would be staring at them instead of looking ahead on the balance beam? Normally, I would have helped. That night, I did nothing.

Now, I had spoken to the other mom the week before about how I had been feeling about everything. I wanted to be extra careful because, as I've mentioned, this would might them as well. My worst case scenario was that we would leave and then the other little girl would be in class alone.

After class, the teacher asked me what I wanted to talk to her about. I didn't touch any of the other issues I had, but simply asked her about whether or not the other class would be sharing the space from here on out. She said yes and then went on to tell me that she had to do that for her business and that she couldn't continue to give us "private lessons" any longer. If we went to another gym, we would be sharing space. I asked her if another gym would share that information with us up front. She said no. I reminded her that these children have special needs and appeared, at four-years-old, not to be quite ready to handle those types of distractions. Didn't she notice their lack of presence? She said no. She then told me that she was upset that I would even have this conversation with her.

SCREECH!!

Pump the brakes.

Did this woman not realize how flippin' patient I was being? Did she not appreciate my calm, even tone? Did she not see in my eyes that what I really wanted to do, instead of being the kind, professional mom, was go upside her head with a shoe?

Such is the cost of playing the nice role, huh? You get underestimated.

Back to the convo.

She had the nerve to be offended that I would approach her with such a thing?

I asked what she would rather have me do instead?

No answer.

So, if I have a concern about the class, I shouldn't come to her?

Nothing.

She then said that she was bothered that I think that she wasn't giving the children enough attention.

"Sweetie, that's guilt talking. I never said that," I thought.

The other mom then pretty much said what I was thinking in a more tactful way. She confirmed that was not what I said at all.

And then we were unceremoniously dumped.

She told me that class was now canceled. For all of us.

I asked her as of when.

She did not understand.

I asked her when this brand new decision would be effective.

She said that she would no longer offer our class in February.

I asked her when she was planning to tell us that. Was this conversation the catalyst?

She said yes.

I asked her if I had never asked the question, would this still be the case?

She said no.

(Which I believe. Before class, she had asked the other mom for the contact info of the local Ds group so that she could place an ad looking for more students.)

I looked at the other mom and apologized. I told her that I had no idea this would happen.

The instructor then told me that there was no need to apologize.

Say huh?

I told her that there was. I said that because of my confrontation and attempt to address an issue, that their daughter would miss out on class (nevermind the start-up and uniform fees!).

My brain was fried. Isn't this what grown-ups are supposed to do? Talk things through? Address and solve conflicts in a mature manner?

I took Playette's hand, told her to tell Miss M thank you and good night and then we left.

Pleasant as ever.

By the way, when I came in that night? I saw a calendar on the wall of all of the classes. None of the others classes share space. She must think I have "Yummy the Dummy" written across my forehead. Two things you don't mess with: my kid and my money. This was far from charity and I expect for us to be treated as equals.

What a nutball night.

So. Do we go back next week, y'all?
I'll have to check with BD, but I don't think we've paid for January yet. I'm guessing that we should, because that's the right thing to do, even though I don't want to. And then, if we do, I don't want to miss out on a paid-for class. It's not like I feel like tipping this lady. But I also don't want to be held liable if I go off on her next week. A shoe upside the head feels too kind now.

Discipline, etc.

When I got home from work today, I was told by our trusty babysitter that apparently Playette showed her entire behind both at school all day and during her PT session.

My guess is that she was expressing her pisstivity that her dad has been away again. He's on his way home now (take that, crazies who may be lurking), but that didn't seem to be enough to keep her content throughout the day.

So. What to do. I was mad, sure, but how do I address this with her so long after it took place?

I mean, in my day, I would have been spanked from here to eternity for such behavior. My approach has been a little different. We do time outs. We have conversations. It feels strange since this isn't how I was raised, but I have been trying. Actually, we have been trying. BD is definitely a full partner in this entire endeavor.

In all honesty, Ds is not even a factor. We just do what we think is best to do. We certainly don't give her any leeway because of her diagnosis. This girl understands right from wrong and we hold her accountable for her actions. Typically, it pays off because she's a pretty well-behaved and ultra-polite kid most of the time.

Today, I asked her to join me on the bottom step and we had a little chat. I kept my voice even and calm and tried to recall tidbits I've learned from watching experts on TV. I told her that I was disappointed in her behavior and that she promised me that she would be a good girl at school. What she exhibited was the opposite of what we had agreed to and that made me angry.

She started baaawwwwling.

"Well," I thought, "It seems like she gets the point."

So I told her to stay on the step until I told her otherwise.

She lost it some more.

I called BD, who was sitting in an airport in NY. He chatted with her for a while.

In all, she might have sat on that step for slightly more than the customary four minutes.

But, trust me, this is progress in my world. I never expected to even entertain an approach like this.

So. Gold star for me.

=====

In other news, I hit the Dirty 30s today. I wish I meant my age, but I mean weeks of pregnancy.

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Also, we got the boot in gymnastics. Her last class will be next week. Apparently, I had the nerve to approach the teacher about her allowing another class to disrupt our class and she didn't like that. I'll have to elaborate more on that later. It really is a crop of crap, but I'd rather it be over than have to deal with the angst I was feeling each week. I could not have been nicer when I spoke with her, but she still decided to be offended for whatever reason. Why am I surrounded by wack-a-loons?

What sucks the most is that my conversation also impacts another child/family since the teacher didn't just cancel for Playette, she cancelled the class. Period. So now we have two cuties in hot pants and leotards with no plans for Wednesday nights.

We'll find them something better. Hmph.

L'il Mama

In as many ways as we are just like the Cruise-Holmes' and the Cannon-Careys', we do differ from them in one way.

(side note: Don't you just love the internet? I totally could be writing this from my Malibu mansion or my NYC penthouse or my junky guestroom/playroom/office in someplace much less exciting. You just never know!)

We don't have our own ultrasound machine.

But we do have a doppler.

And Playette loves to listen to the babies with it.

Yeah, there are two.

You didn't know?

Mine and hers.

She was way intense last night and wouldn't talk to me much on the video. I never planned to record her, she was just concentrating so hard that I figured why not since we were sitting there for a while and all.

Another Month Bites the Dust

I have had this song stuck in my head for like a week.



You're welcome.

They used to play this at the church I went to whenever a couple got engaged. I thought that was like the best thing ever. Everyone cheered and it turned into a party. Not very traditional, I know. Shoot, it was stuff like that that got me in the door and kept me there so long. By the time I was betrothed to BD, they didn't do it anymore. Boo. I still can't help but think of that every time I hear the song though.

Anyway. So I've been gone. Again. Blah blah blah.

I really do have good reasons. Wanna hear 'em? Here they go:

1. I know I've posted since then, but I never really elaborated about our Christmas trip to the Dominican Republic. It was rather awesome, if I do say so myself. We didn't get to go away last year since we were in the midst of a post-deployment cross-country move. And then, over the summer, we were quite The Busy. BD was working and we were hosting company weekend after weekend. It was pretty chock full of activity and we hardly missed getting our passports stamped between beaches, lakes, and San Antonio.

So, yeah. The DR was a great get-away. I slept on the beach a lot.


And we ate a lot. Playette made plenty of friends everywhere she went. We forgot we had brought an actual camera until the last two days. Whoopsie! But I did get this cute little clip of her with my phone after the resort staff handed out gifts to all of the kids. It was an impressive stunt, even after a parade complete with brass band and landing Santa on the beach in a helicopter.

I'm not even kidding.


Obviously, I'll need to devote a post to this trip.

2. Right after we got back, it was off to DC for an amazing New Year's Eve wedding of a very good friend. Can you say Best Wedding Evah? Yeah. Cause it was. From the goody bag in the room (complete with a red velvet Georgetown Cupcake) to the steel drum playing during the cocktail hour to the fun photo booth to the hip hop violinist while we dined on amazing food. I totally made myself stay up until the music stopped at 2am.

Again, I'm not kidding. Hip. Hop. Violinist. It was all sorts of amazing.


I wore my sparkly shoes for the occasion and was feeling super cute, belly and all. Even though several people were concerned that I'd be giving birth on the dance floor. Apparently, I am very large. It's nice that people remind me of that, isn't it?

3. The next morning, we had to hop out of the ever-so-comfortable hotel bed and make our way to pick up Playette from her sleepover with my friend's kids so that we could get home as soon as possible.

Why?

Because I had to fly to Tennessee at noon on Monday (yes, the holiday) to start my two weeks of annual training with the Navy Reserve. Highlight: I got to break out the khaki tent, my affectionate name for the maternity uniform. That thing is not only super comfy, but totally unflattering. And it has no pockets, so it's also impractical. Woot!

I met some great people, had a few fantastic meals, learned a lot, saw the Globetrotters, went to the National Civil Rights Museum, skipped Graceland on Elvis's birthday, and more. If my family had been there, I would have been solid. But they weren't, so I came home as soon as the opportunity was made available to me.

BD did a fantastic job of holding down the fort. And Playette. Of course I mean that figuratively. Maybe.

4. I got home and slept. Because, ironically, while I was busy doing items 1-3, time did not stand still and somehow I crossed over into my third trimester of growing a human. After 12-13 hour days of work while I was away, coming home to my own bed was absolute heaven. The adrenaline rush that kept me vertical through the training faded right along with the second trimester and my body did all it could to recuperate before I had to return to work on Tuesday.

5. And then, on top of everything, work is a boiling pot of stress. I hate it. Did I just write that? I think I did. I really need to do something about this. It's been bad since pretty much Day 1 and here we are five months later and I'm still there.

I have a goal in mind and I've pretty much met it, so I'm about one stupid comment away from being back at home full-time again. Little do they know. Or maybe now they do.

I. Don't. Care.

6. If there's another excuse in there somewhere - and who knows, maybe there was something else - I can't even remember.

But I'm here now.

And I'm feeling big scared great, so let's just ride that out for a while, shall we?

Things are going to drastically change soon enough.

Hold me?

Influenced

Playette has been in a typical daycare or preschool environment for nearly four years now.

Our purpose in going that route was to expose her to other children, since she had no siblings at home, and get some positive influences from her typically developing peers.

For the most part, we've been pleased. She's great at playing and learning amongst other children and has plenty of friends that she asks for by name. She also has friends with varying unique needs. We're all about equal opportunity over here. One of her buddies in her class last year in CA uses a wheelchair and I loved that, to Playette, she was just one of the gang. Which is as it should be.

Many adults could stand to learn a lot from these kiddos.

Along with the great stuff, we get some gems that we know can only have come from being in school.

The latest is the evolution from "uh-oh" to "OOOOOHHHHHHH!"

It cracks me up. Let's say you drop something. She is quick to point and yell, "OOOOOHHHHHHH!"

Like she caught you do something wrong and she's about to tell or as a warning that you're about to get in big trouble.

It's funny because, really...how much trouble am I apt to be in for dropping my keys? And who is going to punish me for that offense, exactly?

I love that little nut.

=====

We just got in from vacation last night, so we're buried in washing tons of warm-weather gear while also trying to put together something that resembles Christmas morning for the kidlet.

Sure it's two days later and after 6pm.

How much you wanna bet she won't care?

More later...

Bandwagoner

Yesterday, we cut through a market on our way to meet some friends for breakfast.

Playette stopped as we were passing a booth where two ladies were selling fancy, assorted nuts.

She signed "football."

I was confused and turned to BD for help. To what could she possibly be referring?

I looked back at her expectantly.

Again, she signed and said "football."

And then I saw it.

The ladies were obviously fans of the currently undefeated Green Bay Packers.

How could I tell?

This was displayed on the side wall of their booth:


It wasn't even very big. Like, really, it took us a while to notice.

So I guess Playette's a fan?

I guess the real question is: Was she a fan before they were playing so well?

It's totally possible that she got sucked in while we were in Wisconsin last year. The Packers are serious business there.

In all seriousness, this kid continues to amaze me, y'all. The connections she makes...it just lets me know that there's so much potential in that brain of hers. We just have to tap into it.

C'mon now. Really?!

For me, a trip to the ER has become a little too commonplace.

Because it had been a while, we went ahead and visited on Saturday.

It was the strangest thing, really. I was in the bed, lounging, reading my Twitter feed and a few friends were discussing [something pretty damn gross].

"Hm. I've had that happen before. It is no bueno," I thought to myself.

And then, I turned over to my side, coughed, and [that same something happened].

*sigh*

So I called BD to show him the proof and he was all "ewwww" and suggested that I contact a medical professional.

I made the call, got the answering service, explained my situation, and waited on a call back.

And, because I'm that kind of person, I decided that before we did anything, we needed to go to Costco.

Because I'd be fired up if I ended up admitted and couldn't use my coupon.

Turns out that the advice I got was to go to someone's urgent-type facility, so after I did what I wanted (I know, I know), we went to the hospital. It actually made more sense to go there than somewhere else based on my insurance coverage, plus I knew that if I needed tests, I'd already be in the right place.

Thankfully, traffic was light in there during that time, so we were in and out in a relatively quick 2+ hours. Playette enjoyed the time outside with her dad after I had to kick her out of my room for touching everything and just plain being four years old and I played with my phone in between repeating my same story to every person that walked into the room (what's the point of them taking notes, anyway?).

A chest x-ray later, it was revealed that I, thankfully, do not have pneumonia again some more, so I was released on my own recognizance.

We celebrated with lunch at a new-to-us place and then went home to football for them and a nap for me.

Exciting, huh?

We are some serious party animals over here, y'all.

After that, things were pretty tame for the rest of the weekend. BD put up the tree, I rested and addressed envelopes, Playette did her silly little thing as she is prone to do.

I just realized today that we are sooo booked for the next six weeks or so. Going here, running there, parties, family time. And I just found out that I have reserve duty in January. I'm excited for what I'll be doing, but bummed to have to leave my peeps behind. I know first-hand how Playette gets when BD leaves and the thought of her missing me that badly just makes my icy heart crumble a little around the edges. Poor little boobah.

Or she could just be thrilled to have me gone. Who knows.

Oh, and I know I've kept you all dangling for deets. It won't be long now. Promise!

Maybe I should put a Neicy Nash flower in my hair for Reveal Day.

S'up, Y'all?

I honestly didn’t mean to just straight disappear for the most part after the end of October, but the last couple of weeks have been some doozies in our household. There’s just a lot going on and I’ve barely had the thought to blog, let alone carved out the time to actually do so.

Work is very busy. Well, sort of. I mean, there’s lots to do and way more confusion than I would like, but…eh, it’s complicated. I’ve had to take off a couple of sick days lately. One day last week for me, one this week for Playette, and then another will be next week for Playette in the morning (She’s slated to see some fancy feeding/swallowing doctor – not a therapist. Don’t worry, I’m confused, too.) and I have an appointment of my own in the afternoon. Best bet was to take the whole day even though I know that will be one hectic day between going to the city, back home to drop her off, and back into the city again. Yeesh!

Tomorrow is a holiday for us, so yay for a day off of work, but since Playette also doesn’t have school, we’re going to try to make the most of it by squeezing in a much-needed dentist appointment (pray for me) and then, in the afternoon, I get to take her to her new SLP. She’s had two appointments so far, but since they’re at 3pm, the sitter has been taking her. I’m glad to have the opportunity to finally meet this woman who is, to me, the representation of all of my dreams of the past year finally coming true.

See, we had out eval with Sara Rosenfeld-Johnson last November, I believe, and during that process, we got connected with a Talk Tools certified SLP that we were able to see twice before we moved. Even then, we had to drive over an hour to get to her because there was just NO ONE closer and I believed with my whole heart that Talk Tools was the way to go for Playette. I liked the SLP a lot and we tried to make an adventure out of it so that the early morning drives didn’t feel so daunting. As you all may recall, we then had the audacity to MOVE at the end of December once BD returned from his deployment, so that marked the end of Speech Therapy for a very, very long while.

Which sucks.

Because what is my daughter’s greatest challenge (well, besides using scissors which is the current bane of my flipping existence)? SPEECH.

When she started school in January, she did get some time with the ST there. But then, y’know, we took her out of that awful place in April after the teacher used the R word in the IEP meeting AND the bus drivers played that precious April Fools practical joke. Such a shame to leave such sweet folks, but I digress.

So, the little bit of ST she was getting disappeared. I was so torn up at the time about what was going on between us and the school district that I didn’t pursue their services at her private preschool. Plus, I just KNEW that we’d be coming up on one of the many, many waiting lists we were on for ST…any. day. now.

Ha! So much for that. If you are the parent of a child with special needs, you have probably noticed that there are a lot of children out in the world with “speech delays.” It’s a pretty common diagnosis. So, getting in to see an SLP, especially one with experience dealing with oral motor issues, not to mention the added bonus of being familiar with or certified to utilize Talk Tools? In a very congested area? Yeah…waiting lists. Long, long, long waiting lists. I made more phone calls than I can even recall, trying to track down someone, anyone, that could work with my girl.

Thankfully, we were so grateful to have Beth come by this past summer (housecall, woot!) to help me learn how not to be so overwhelmed by the whole oral motor process. She is a wealth of information and I am inspired so much by how well her daughter, Hannah, is doing, along with her other children. I hope I can be half the mama she is one day.

To bring you up to speed on this new SLP we have, about a month ago, she called me out of the blue and said that Playette had come up on her waiting list. I was shocked. She went on to tell me that she’s Talk Tools certified. I was stunned. The issues then became dealing with insurance (gag) and the logistics - her only openings were on days/times we were otherwise obligated, plus her office was REALLY far away.

Over the course of a couple of weeks, we got it all worked out. The insurance thing made me want to stab my eyes with a spork, but eventually that was rectified. And then, this woman offered to do some shuffling and got us in not only at a time where we could make it, but also at a closer office! Where has she been all my life?! Or at least for the past 10 months?! So, once I coordinated with the sitter, we were set. Yeehaw. Get along, little doggie. Forward momentum. All that good stuff.

So far, Playette has been twice and things are going well. I’m actually excited to meet this life-saver of mine tomorrow and see what she has to say about possible next steps. As it stands, I still have a massive drooler on my hands (and, yikes, winter is approaching and wet + cold = ugh), and you know that noise I mentioned that started last year? It STILL has not made a graceful exit yet.

And if you think that over time that it would just blend into the background? You, dear reader, would be incorrect. It’s just as grating as it was the first day she started. More so, in fact. More. So.

I felt like I wanted to write more than just about this topic, but my brain is all loopy at the moment. When it comes to me, I’ll be back. Promise.

And Now, Some Words from Our Sponsor

My turn again. BD dropping in for his once a year check in. The one day of the year you have to deal with my poor English and pitiful writing skills. We’ve had one interesting year.

How time flies. This time last year I was sitting on an aircraft carrier listening to airplanes crash land on top of my head. I was off “saving the world”. It’s my job or something. My job also called for us to completely uproot ourselves and try out some new scenery to call home.

As fun and exciting as traveling around the other side of the world is, being away from the Momma and Playette always makes me sad. I know they don’t see it that way, but these 2 ladies are my world. I’ve been on deployments away from the US before, but this was the first time I had to do it since these ladies came along. It is a much different experience trying to be a husband and father from the other side of the world, with little to no internet and extreme conditions on every day. Just getting to talk to them for a few minutes every couple of days was great motivation to keep going over the entire stretch.

I was very impressed with how my wife managed to hold it all together while I was gone and then again as we moved. Having to be a single parent on random notice for weeks to months at a time is an extremely hard lifestyle that the majority of people aren’t capable of. The fact that she’s committed to doing it for the benefit of my career just shows how awesome a woman she is. I’m very lucky to have her! Love you babe!

The little one continues to grow and impress. She’s amazing to watch and an extremely cool kid to just hang with. She’s my partner in crime and every minute we hang together is just the best thing on earth.

Going away is never easy, but as they say distance makes the heart grow fonder, and that has definitely been true this year.

Every time I come home to them I realize there is nothing better than their love.

BD Signing out. See you next year peeps.

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2008
2009
2010

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Gracious

When I was in college, there were a lot of rules. Especially the first year.

Meals during that time were quite interesting. Sit on only the edge of the chair, six inches in. Stare at the top of the plate. Request everything in a specific way. Have the menu memorized. Serve the upperclassmen. Don't speak unless you're utilizing the aforementioned request sequence.

It's been (ahem) several years and all of this seems like yesterday.

There was one other thing I remember vividly about lunches during Plebe year: grace.

Yup, the blessing of the food.

Because, in the midst of all this seriousness, we said grace.

Well, actually someone said it for us.

The Regimental Commander was quite the intimidating figure back then (as adults, we became friendly and I couldn't have been more proud when he was selected as a White House Fellow several years ago). He was tall and had a deep voice with an amazing accent that revealed his Haitian heritage.

He pretty much scared the crap out of me. But that's what he was supposed to do.

And everyday he would literally say grace. I found it hilarious. He yelled out so that every student in the dining hall could hear him, "GRACE! SEATS! Eat."

Never before had I considered saying grace as, you know, saying "grace."

I recount that story because not since then had I tittered at the blessing of food until Playette came along. She gets so much satisfaction out of it. She reaches out both hands to us (she sits at the head of the table and we're on either side), says whoknowswhat (hopefully, she's not praying that we'll choke on our Brussels sprouts) and then gives all of our connected appendages two pumps to the tune of "Ayyyy-Men."

We never know if this routine will occur before we eat or right in the midst of a mouthful.

And if that wasn't enough, she recently has acquired the habit of ceremoniously licking every finger before she reaches her hand out to be held. Usually it's on my side. Today BD got wet willied, too. It's so frickin' gross.

But I laugh every time.

Love her.

Giving In

I was going to wait to share Playette's costume until later in the week, but then I saw this photo that was taken yesterday at the festival we attended.

Resistance was futile.

She's too stinkin' cute to keep secret.

Check out our little peacock/butterfly.

Girls' Night In

BD went out to hang with some work folks tonight, so it was just me and the Littlest.

She ate spaghetti and then tossed some of it back up on the office carpet.

Good times, good times.

Thankfully, it got better after that.

There was some Dora watching and then I convinced her that a movie would be a good idea. She relented and after donning her pjs, we finally snuggled in on the couch and watched Tangled.

First magical thing of the night: She stayed awake the entire time, paid attention, and seemed to love it.

Second magical thing of the night: While walking her up to bed, she ALTERNATED HER FREAKING FEET ON THE STEPS!!! ALL THE WAY UP!!

Man, it's been a long time since we've have a bonafide big-ass milestone around here.

There's gotta be a technical term for this. Where's FNPT when I need her?

So I'm excited.

CAN YOU TELL?!?!?!?!

I don't really know how to calm down about this. I mean, I've never seen her do it. It's pretty flipping amazing. To me, at least. And that's perfectly ok.

I don't know when other kids do this kind of thing, whether they have 46 or 47 chromos, no matter.

BECAUSE MY KID.

SHE DID THIS.

TONIGHT!

All the while saying "left, right, left, right..."

Can you tell I'm proud?

I'm so stinkin' proud.

This, ladies and gentlemen, is what having a kid with Ds gets you...

Insanely happy.

Everything happens. Just in its own time.

More Buddy Walkin'

On October 1st, we attended our very own local Buddy Walk. Imagine that, not having to travel by bus or plane! We didn't even have to drive more than about 10 minutes each way. Craziness.

It was the first day I remember really feeling like fall. And when I say that, I mean it was cold. I realized I had reached another weather milestone. Unlike when we were in The Land of No Seasons, it was going to go from oppressively hot to insanely cold. And I was going to have to learn how to deal with it. Bah.

I know. I'm a wimp.

So, yeah, Buddy Walk morning was brisk.

But it was gorgeous.

Playette got out of the car feeling nice and good.

She's on display, on display, on display.




We checked in, got our bag o' goodies and started with some face painting.



For some reason, Playette's ended up on her hand instead of her face. I'm not sure why I got hooked up and she didn't.

We didn't dwell on that mystery. Instead, it was off to the sidewalk chalk.


Not long after, it was time to start the actual walk. I really love the location of this Buddy Walk. It's scenic, central, and so many people come through there to walk dogs, have parties, work out, or to use the playground that I actually feel like that by having it there, some awareness is raised. People have to ask, "I wonder what's going on over there?" or "Who are all these people in matching shirts?" and I think that's really cool. I know that not every walk can be in a place like that, but it's nice that it can happen.

We did the mile-ish trek around the lake, checking out signs along the way that told stories of people with Ds of all ages. I had considered filling out the form so that Playette could have one, but I got a big, fat case of Something Shiny!Over There! and was distracted enough that I missed the deadline. Go, me.

When our loop was complete, we gorged on pizza and oatmeal pies.

Ok, maybe that was just me with the oatmeal pies, but still. Everyone else could have had some, too. They just need to learn to move quicker.

There was music throughout, with performances by cheerleaders and a dance team. We got to meet new peeps and spend time with friends. Playette also made sure to get her money's worth out of the bounce house.

Speaking of getting one's money's worth out of something...Sheree, if you're reading, please know that we squeezed every moment we could out of those shirts from last year. Both Playette and I were struggling to keep our navels covered. Now that's the mark of a good tee! Still useful and well-loved. We'll surely re-purpose those. Thank you, again. I wish we could be there with y'all again this year. Also? I totally wore those striped socks to the NYC Buddy Walk.

All in all, another great day. So great, in fact, that I came home and crashed for the rest of the night. Party animal. Woot.

Siblings

Playette doesn’t currently have any, but there’s always a lot of really interesting discussion going on around me about how people of all ages (must) feel about having a sibling with Ds.

Some believe it’s the best thing that’s ever happened to them. They have joy beyond measure.

While others believe that it would be a pox upon their family for generations upon generations to even consider bringing a child with such a diagnosis into their home…for the sake of their existing or future children.

Personally, I haven’t ever felt like we would or would not have more children based on Playette’s diagnosis. It simply hasn’t been a factor for me. I don’t have expectations for another child of mine to one day be her caretaker, nor have I considered that having/bringing another child into our home would one day lead to resentment of either us or their sister. I don’t know if that makes me naïve or what. I’ve always - well at least after that first year of her life - felt that Playette would be able to one day do for herself. That’s the way we raise her. As if one day she will leave our cover and be her own person.

Shoot, we've got plans for 2025 and beyond. Grown-up plans.

Sometimes I wonder if other parents look at us in shock or disdain because we don’t do more for her, physically. As a first-time parent, I’m only doing what I think is best. Which means that I’m totally winging it.

So, yeah, I ask her to do as much for herself as I believe is realistic for her at that moment in time. Maybe one day I will discover that my expectations were too high. I guess I’m willing to take that chance. Again, it’s a personal philosophy based on how I, myself, was raised, combined with the input of BD, which is based on his experiences. Those were amazingly different, so we meet somewhere in the middle and have created The Smith-Smith Way. Which includes her taking off her own clothes and putting them in the hamper. You know, do as I say, not as I do. That kinda thing. One day, she's going to notice that I'm messier than she is.

But, I digress.

My point in addressing the sibling situation is that I wanted to talk a little bit about how this article made me feel.

In a nutshell, I liked it.

Even though, at age 27, Diondra is far from being Jamie’s older sister, as the article indicates.

Plus, a video would have been awesome. If anyone sees it somewhere, please let me know.

Maybe it’s because I’ve met them both (at different times) that I feel a teensy, itty bitty connection. It just feels like they have a great relationship and I love that. When we were in San Antonio last summer, I chatted with Diondra for a bit at the dance on Saturday night. I told her how I had seen her dance in his Blame It video and on an award show and she inspires me when it comes to thinking of my daughter’s future.

I remember how she placed her hand to her chest and lowered her head in that “Oh, stop, you’re too kind” way. After stepping away, I was told by a friend that she had been chatting with Jamie via Facetime on her iPad while he was in another country filming a movie. I remember wondering what they talked about. Was she telling him what a great time she was having? (Or that she was being stalked by this one weird mom, even?) Was he telling her to live it up and that he’d see her soon?

I’ll never know.

But what I didn’t notice was resentment or any sense of one being a burden on the other.

And I appreciated that.

Times Square Video

I promised you a link and a link you shall have.

Here's a bit of what it's about, taken directly from the site:

"Every year, NDSS reminds the world in a big way about the gifts that people with Down syndrome bring to their communities through a special video presentation on a jumbo screen in the heart of the Times Square in New York City."

Click through for more details and to watch.

National Down Syndrome Society Times Square Video 2011

I tried to watch it again just now and I started tearing up. What is wrong with me?! I blame the music. I couldn't hear the soundtrack in Times Square.

Yes, I'm blaming an instrumental.

The video is about 19 minutes long. Our girl shows up at 8:35.