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Evan would like to take this opportunity to welcome his brand new baby cousin, Isaiah, born early this morning. Congratulations also to his parents, Aunt Jo and Uncle Brad, on this wonderful miracle. We all look forward to meeting the new family member tomorrow!
to a guy who sleeps on the floor.
So Ev's been doing a super job of sleeping in his big boy bed lately. By super job, I mean that he sleeps in his own bed until between 4 and 7 am, when he finds his way into our bed. I have to say, I'm totally cool with that. Hell, I even enjoy it--I'm fully aware that he's growing up so fast and he won't want to snuggle in bed with his folks for much longer.
Evan does best going to sleep when Mike reads him a story or sings to him or holds him before bed, but we've gotten to the point where Evan can even handle being put in bed by his own mother without shrieking that I'm abandoning him. Amazing. He has been sleeping better because he's getting more fresh air and exercise too. I love it.
So last night, Evan falls asleep sitting on the couch at about 9. Mike was at the college doing his radio show, so Ev and I were having a quiet night. I went up and put him in his bed, and then came back downstairs to hang out. When Mike and I headed up to bed about two hours later, I got a shock. I peeked in to check on Evan and he wasn't in his bed. My panic lasted only a moment until I looked down and saw him sound asleep on his floor with his stuffed rhino. He was curled up on the little alphabet mat in front of his bed, and I have no idea how he ended up there. I didn't hear him fall out of bed (and I doubt he would have remained sleeping if he had). At any rate, there he was, and he didn't even notice when I picked him up and tucked him back into bed.
I wish I could sleep that soundly. I think I'm going to go try.
So last night we're driving back from Wal-Mart (where else?) and Evan's in the back, as usual. I think he likes going in the car a lot more now that he sits up higher and can see more stuff. Anyway, he's in a jovial mood. And soon from the back seat we hear "Yea-uh!" Here's Evan, yelling "Yea-uh!" loudly and many times from his car seat. We're not sure why he was doing it, but it was funny. Sounded like he was trying to do the Lil Jon bit from Chappelle's Show.
In other news, we got our MA rejection today. Big surprise. Turns out we make too much money for the one program, and Ev isn't disabled enough for the other. Nothing shocking there. I did finally get the lady from Children's Institute on the phone, and she said we should be hearing if we qualified for their fund in the next few days (I think that's what she said last week too, but I've lost track). If that falls through, we are going to be paying some big bucks for therapy my friends--time to start playing the Powerball.
We have just returned from a relaxing weekend in Cleveland. The trip worked out well for all three of us--Evan got to be spoiled and go to the zoo and the playground with his grandparents, and Mike and I got to spend some time together and just be. We tried not to talk of things therapy/diagnosis/insurance related, and that was a welcome change.
Unfortunately, all good things must end. So today it's back to phoning hospitals and insurance companies, looking for answers.
Evan got a new pair of sneakers over the weekend. They have Elmo on them, and a "1 2 3" on the sides that light up when he walks. Super cool. I think he likes them a lot. Mike and I made a mad purchase over the weekend too--doorknob covers. Evan finally has the strength and coordination to open doors around here, and that gets him into places he's not supposed to go (like the basement or the front yard). As he gets bigger and stronger, things become trickier and trickier. We're on constant alert.
That's all the news from here. I wish it were sunny and warm instead of cool and gray. But then I suppose Evan would be getting his new sneakers dirty, wouldn't he? So for today, we're just hanging out in the house, catching up on paperwork and chores, and waiting for the sun.
Well well well.
The doctor from Children's Hospital just called back (after I spent half an hour on the phone this morning just trying to get her voicemail). She tells me that after reviewing the reports from Ev's in-home therapist and the ones who saw him at Children's Institute, she thinks that he doesn't have PDD.
Actually, she said, he's not presenting enough symptoms to diagnose him with PDD at this time. So she warned me to keep an eye on him, and to be in touch if his behaviors change and she would see us again. She said we're going to have to keep calling it an expressive language delay and that he definitely could use some more intense therapy.
I'm relieved of course, but kind of upset too. I spent the last two weeks preparing myself for him to be diagnosed PDD, and now that he wasn't diagnosed I feel a little let down. I feel like once again we've been left with no answers and a thousand more questions. It's so hard to be constantly in this grey area--not knowing what the right thing is to do, unsure if you're headed in the right direction.
For now I can focus more energy on the intense therapy thing, hoping to get him seen more at home maybe, along with that 12 week program in Wexford.
In the last few days, the Teletubbies have replaced Elmo as Evan's tv favorites. He's asking for their video constantly--and I spend loads of time trying to divert his attention elsewhere. I tell him that it's "Time for Tubby bye-bye" but he's not buying it. The kid is hooked.
I hate to say it, but I kind of miss Elmo.
This has been a very friend-type weekend. Friday we had friends (like Uncle Mindtrance and RichardZ.com) over for grilling fun, Saturday Alan and Heather came up from Pittsburgh, today we were at Mikaele and Tim's for lunch and play time, and Beth called me right after I got in the door tonight. I feel like a very rich woman this evening.
Before I forget, happy birthday to Mikaele! We had a great time hanging out at her place today, and Evan had fun playing with her boys (even if he was the runt of the group and got beat up a little bit). Every time we get together, we have a great time and I think that we should do it more often--and of course life gets in the way and it's usually a month or two between visits. There is luxury in having friends with kids though--they understand that there is some planning involved in visits (you have to be aware of nap times) and they always have apple juice and toys.
We love our friends without kids too--because they love our kid almost as much as we do and they put up with us talking endlessly about him. I told Alan yesterday that I was going to write something nice about him, and here it is. He is a really good friend. I know, how dull, but it's true. He's fun to hang out with, and can always make me laugh. He's great at keeping in touch and he always manages to make trips to come visit us or attend our special events. Alan and Mike have been friends since before I came on the scene, and I'm really glad they are still friends. Because now he's my friend too, and so is his wife, and I think they're just both really great people. I appreciate all the effort they make to be part of our lives--it means a lot to both of us. Now you finally know where the cheese went, Alan--it's here in my blog.
So after this big weekend stuffed with friends, I'm just feeling really lucky and happy. Because of my friends, I forgot about therapies and diagnoses for a while and I just got to laugh and have fun. I'm glad to have the friends that invite us for lunch and let our kid play in their sandbox, the ones that call once a week from far away cities to check in and gossip, the ones that drive up for an afternoon visit and the ones that e-mail faithfully with all the details of their lives and the ones that come over Thursdays to eat snacks and watch cable. Having a life full of great friends makes me feel like we can get through anything.
I haven't been the best Mommy lately.
Evan and I are becoming very frustrated with each other over our communication gap. When he was smaller, his cries let me know that he was hungry, tired, or uncomfortable. Now that he's older, his whines convey that he wants his boot straps secured, that he'd rather watch Teletubbies, that I gave him the wrong kind of cheese or forgot to put lotion on after his bath. We have a system of picture cards on the fridge that he gives me when he wants something, but it doesn't solve even half of our problems. He's not talking and I'm not understanding, and all the picture cards in the world can't tell me that he wants to wear no pants today.
And I'm getting upset. After listening to Ev whine and carry on for hours and not being able to get him what he needs, I get frazzled. I get short tempered with him, and I say things in a sharper tone of voice than I mean to. I find myself becoming just the kind of Mommy I never wanted to be--one that's yelling all the time, one that's cranky all the time.
I didn't notice it until Mike pointed it out to me, but he was exactly right. This isn't how I want to be, and I'm not sure how to fix it. I don't see the frustration disappearing until we hear some words, and who knows when that will be. Of course, Mike and I are both frazzled to bits waiting to hear from Evan's doctors, and that's not helping one bit either.
He's whining now, I don't know why. I am going to go and try to figure it out.
And I'll try to be better from now on.
Just a quick blog to say yay for me. I got my first month measurement and weigh-in at Curves today. In the last 30 days, I've lost 6.5 pounds and over 10 inches. Go me! I'm excited to see the results, and it gives me the motivation to keep going.
The last few days have been busy and full. We bought a new car (Honda Element--very cool), were surprised by both Cara and Jerry coming home unannounced (welcome surprises both), and had a lovely Easter with family and friends.
Not to mention all the chocolate.
Somehow we ended up with quite a bit of chocolate, which is lovely, but must be hidden from the child and doled out in small amounts. We should be through with this stash just in time for Halloween.
Last night we went to see Damien Rice in Pittsburgh. The show was excellent, and it was a nice way to end a week off for Mike. I haven't been to a concert in a while, and Mike and I were amused to be among some of the older people in our section--and I have to admit I thought the opening act could have played a little more quietly. That clinched it--I'm definitely getting old! But we did enjoy the show, and I was pleased to see such talented artists in person. We had a quiet drive home in the early morning hours, listening to the Undercover Club on KDKA and stopping at Sheetz in Grove City for a drink.
Now it's Monday, and tomorrow is back to work and therapy and the daily grind. After all the excitement of the last few days, that will be a welcome change.
Evan hasn't been sleeping well since the time change last weekend. He gets up later, resists his naps, and ends up falling asleep in his dinner and then staying up later and later. Lucky for me Mike is off of work this week, so he can share in my misery. I'm waiting until after Easter to try to straighten this out--there's just too much excitement around here lately.
It's sunny today (and I wish it was warmer), but yesterday it was nice enough to play in the backyard. Evan had a blast climbing on his new playhouse that Grandpa and Uncle Tim brought down this week. I'm glad I can start putting the toys out and keeping Ev occupied in the yard--we both need the fresh air and an outlet for our boundless energy!
Last night Aunt Cara stopped in on her way up to Erie, and that was nice for both me and Ev. I got a chance to talk to Cara and just hang out for a bit, and Evan got the use of a new playmate. He warmed up to her quickly (though he hasn't seen her since Christmas), and they blew bubbles together until Ev got bored and Cara was covered in soap.
That's all the news from here for now. Time to hit the showers.
P.S. I had a dream about hitting the showers last night, and my high school pool class. It was a bad dream because I liked some of the people in it and wanted them to like me, but I was wearing this really old bathing suit and it made me very anxious. I still feel anxious today about it. Odd.
Our trip to Pittsburgh for a follow up eval at Children's Hospital didn't go as well as planned. Was it because Evan is two, and stubborn as a mule? Was it because we had a two hour drive and were kept waiting in the waiting room for 45 minutes past our appointment time? Or was it because Evan has a disorder that has as yet gone undiagnosed?
It could be any of those things, I suppose. We left our appointment yesterday with more questions and uncertainty. The doctor wasn't thrilled with Evan's uncooperative behavior and lack of eye contact with her, so she offered us the possibility of a diagnosis of pervasive developmental disorder (PDD). It's on the autism spectrum, and she thought Ev may be showing some signs of that.
Nothing is definite. We filled out questionnaires about his behaviors (which he scored very low on, meaning that he wasn't showing many signs of PDD), and the doctor sent home ones for his in-home speech therapist to fill out as well. She'll be consulting with the therapists that saw Ev a few weeks ago at Children's Institute, and after all these reports are in she will make a diagnosis.
If he doesn't have PDD, we'll go on as we have been--speech therapy at home and Children's over the summer for additional help. If he does have PDD there will be more testing, more evaluation, and our plans will change. I don't know what changes there will be, but things will change.
Are they reaching for a diagnosis because it would make it easier to get therapy and help if we call it something, or is this a valid concern? Time will tell I suppose, and the next few weeks as we wait for the doctor's findings will not be easy ones.
Though you wouldn't know it, since we got at least an inch of snow yesterday. Remind me to look at colleges in North Carolina for Mike to apply to.
We've had a pretty busy week here--two therapies, a reception at the college for Mike, visits from friends, grocery shopping....and today Mike is in Erie to get the car fixed and attend the Ad Club awards. Evan and I are spending the day at home, though we are quite happy with that.
Something "funny now but not funny then" happened this week, and I thought I must share. Evan and I were on our way to the aforementioned reception at the college on Tuesday, dressed to kill (I even wore make-up!). We left the house a little early because I had some errands to run, and we first hit the bank to make a deposit. When we got done there, I put Ev back in his car seat and handed him his juice. He must have been awfully thirsty, because he started downing that thing like there was no tomorrow. Big mistake on his part.
Within moments of pulling out of the bank parking lot, I hear Ev start to cough and sputter a bit. I turn around to see if he is okay just in time to catch him spray vomit all over the place. All over himself, all over the car seat. He looks up at me in dismay and says, "Meh?" Like, what am I supposed to do about this, Mom?
I could not believe my eyes (or my nose, for Ev had eaten sausage and eggs for breakfast that morning). I turned back toward home, mentally working out how I was going to get us and the car cleaned up and back to the college in less than an hour.
When I got home, I carried Ev gingerly into the house and deposited him straight into the bathtub, soiling my jacket in the process. I stripped him down, bathed him, and dressed him again in record time. It was then my duty to go remove the offensive pukey car seat from the car, and replace it with our "emergency backup car seat". I vowed to spend the afternoon scrubbing barf from all the lovely car seat crevices and buckles--but then it was time for us to head out the door.
We made it back to Allegheny in time, and enjoyed ourselves at a lovely reception honoring Mike and his co-workers for all their hard work on the new college web site. Evan ate a big slice of cake and ran through the College Center with glee, having forgotten the barf of the morning. I was feeling rather ragged at that point myself, but I tried not to let it show.
I tell you, there is no glamour whatsoever in being a mom.