2-17-15
Well we did it!
B Sutts the 2nd will be arriving....in October we think? It is still too early to go to the doctor to get an "exact" date.
Thane just tried to get me to call our baby BS2. No. Just no.
I called to make our 8 week appointment and they had the perfect date and time open. Tuesday at 12:30. I get done with work at noon on Tuesdays so it was perfect!! I wouldn't have to tell anyone why I had to go on break at that specific time and could wait until I knew our baby was ok.
Is that normal?
Does anyone else worry that things won't work out. I don't want to say type the word...it is to scary to even type. I don't have a history of it, but it is sadly so common. I don't know if my heart could take it. People who have gone through it are a whole new kind of strong. I'm not that strong. I don't know if I could handle it.
Anyways, back to my appointment. I had to hid in the bathroom at work to make it. That was weird and gross.
They called me today and said we had to reschedule. Of course we did. Nothing can fall into place that easy. Of course my doctor was going to be on vacation during my 8th week. And then of course the other doctor was going to be on vacation too. Oiy.
So the big appointment got pushed back a week. Sad.
I'm so anxious to see B Sutts the 2nd.
So obviously today isn't the 17th of Feb. I have so many thoughts running through my head that I want to save forever for this baby that I have to write them down. We are only 4 weeks along though...its a little early to let the whole world know right now.
I can't believe how hard it is to keep this secret!!
With P we knew about 6 or 7 weeks so I didn't have to sit on it that long. This is torture! It's such great news I want to tell everyone I see...but that isn't the best idea. So, I'm not going to do that I guess. :)
The final installment...and explaining why I even started writing these blog posts...to be pumped about what happened to my car!
So we had set up the appointment for maybe 2 weeks after our initial meeting and in the meantime P started saying new words.
So many new words that we decided it would be a good idea to write them down to show the speech therapist. Have you ever had anyone ask you how many words your kid can say? Ya. It's not easy to figure out on the spot.
He was saying a new word or 2 every day and trying to say more! At one point before the actual appointment happened he said "Daddy's truck!!!" Which is beyond amazing because it was the first time he got the "t" sound. Talk about a proud mommy moment :)
So it came time for our the speech appointment aaaaaaaaaaaand we had to cancel it because the speech therapist's daughter got sick. Totally understandable, not a big deal.
The second time we rescheduled, I was on my way home aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand my car died. It died. I called Liz beyond upset. This was the second time we had to reschedule AND something was wrong with my engine. I was more upset about the car obviously. We don't have the money to spend on a new engine which is what I was sure we'd have to do.
So let's talk about that. I had just text Thane that morning and said, "I NEED an oil change. Like 3 days ago." I asked him to pick up some oil on the way home.
I ended up going to Target on my break and grabbed 2 quarts. I had asked him how many I would need..and he says, "Well, if you need more than 2 we have a problem."
Way to jinx us honey.
I just pass the gas station after work and my check engine light comes on. In a normal car, you would probably pull over immediately right? Well not my car. My car kinds sucks. And when I say kinda..I mean it does. Lights come on when they feel like it...and most of the time it means nothing.
So I call Thane and ask if I should pull over and he says something like you might as well...check your oil.
As I'm pulling into Hawk's Landing I feel my engine do something not normal and I panic. Awesome. Awesome. My engine just seized. How expensive will this be?
I make it to a side street in Hawk's and pop my hood to check the oil...yup. No oil on my dipstick. Awesome.
This has happened before with this car too. I tell the dealer something isn't right and they blame me. I still stand beside the fact that just because I am over on my oil change, my car shouldn't be burning oil. Whatever, that time it was fine, so I hope this time it will be too.
I put in both quarts, check the dip stick, and curse Thane. I needed one more. We had a problem.
I call him, we talk, and decide that since the engine light isn't flashing at me we were good and I should go home.
I start home and my car sounds weird. Really weird. I get on HWY M and I can't go over 30. Perfect. I am about to pull over on a side street when my rpms go to 0 and I am only going 10mph. Of course the car behind me is instantly irritate and on my ass. I throw on my hazards and pray I make it the next 20 feet and don't die as I'm turning....
I make it, barely, and call Liz to reschedule, and call Thane. Needless to say, we both assume its because of the oil and we are both pissed at each other. We may have yelled a bit. Who wouldn't? He had to leave work and I'm stuck on a cold day with a park in view and a 2 year old in the backseat who I have to keep occupied for an hour while we wait for his dad.
He brings more oil and we drive it around the neighborhood...at 30 mph because that is all the faster it will go...and I try to not throw up. I can't help but obsess about how much this will cost us. We call our friend who knows his shit about cars and we decide to drive it home...which took like an hour because he couldn't go over 30 and it died on EVERY hill. Every hill and in a round about in the middle of MH.
Ugh.
So anyways, the speech appointment.We had rescheduled for the next week.
Of course Parker had just pooped about 30 seconds before they pulled in and of course he didn't tell me so it was in his pull up. So I am trying to clean him up quickly so we can get this appointment going. He was talking to me the whole time and apparently they were taking notes the whole time.
We walk out and I say, "Well...he can say poop!"
I handed them the list of the words and phrases he could now say and Liz was surprised. He was up to over 50 words now and when she was here he had about 10. Apparently that's a really good thing.
We went through the whole appointment and he passed. Barely.
They would have pushed him through to the program because he was so close but because of his progress and how much he was trying to talk they genuinely were not concerned with him. If we have any other concerns we are able to call them. He is now saying 3 word sentences though...so he is improving!!
I truly believe that those 2 cancellations were meant to be. If we had been able to keep the first speech appointment he no doubt would qualify for speech.I have some mixed emotions about it. Glad he doesn't need services, but worried that maybe he could have really benefited from them. It does put me at ease to know that if we feel he needs it, we can call them and reevaluate him,.
It is still difficult for me to hear how much his peers are talking, but I know he will get there.
So my car. I was still unhappy that it happened..even if it meant giving P a little more time to catch up.
I call to pay for it. I didn't even really want to ask how much it would cost. It was the timing belt....which means they had to take apart me engine. Ya, that's not a cheap repair.
So I call and ask to pay for the bill and the lady on the phone is super confused, "So, everything we had to do was covered under a warranty and a recall...was there another bill you needed to pay?"
I sat there dumbfounded....it cost me nothing?? Nothing!?!? "Are you sure??"
"Yes?"
I laughed, "You just MADE my day!!"
I guess fate really came through in this one.
So I send in the paperwork and set up a meeting with Liz.
The night before the meeting I panic and go into Jan cleaning mode. (Jan is my mom...)
What if she comes in and sees that I didn't vacuum up every speck of dog hair..and she takes Parker away?
What if she notices the terrible linoleum in our bathroom and thinks our house isn't fit for a child in 2015..and takes him away?
What if she sees that the lock on P's door is on the outside..and assumes we lock him in there for hours...and takes him away??
Ya, funny story about that one. While we were sleep training him in his new bed he wasn't quite a pro at opening doors yet.
So one night he is at the door fumbling with the knob for what seemed like forever and I just wait for him to get it open...when all of a sudden I panic.
I realized that he was about to lock himself in his bedroom..from the inside.
I sprint, which for me is more like the tortoise at the starting line, down the hallway to open the door. I reach for the door when I hear it.
He turned the lock.
Shit.
I tried to coax him into opening the door. My kid is smart, he could have done it if he had wanted to. I didn't want to call Thane from the shower (he had just gotten home from something) to confess that I had just let our child lock himself in his room. Can you say mom of the year?
Ya, it didn't work. P was locked in. He was knocking on his door..."Mooooooooommmy!!!!!!" and laughing. So much for bedtime. I had to tell Thane.
I knocked on the door, "Um..babe? Parker locked himself in his room...."
Thane just stared at me. Panic started to rise in my throat. What if he ate a book? Don't laugh..he would. What if he gets baby powder all over the room? (Ya, now he has done that twice. It sucks.) What if we can't open the door??
Thane tried to get him to unlock it but ended up going to get a screwdriver to take off the door knob. Mind you, these knobs are literally as old as we are, so just like us...they were rusty or something. Whatever it was...Thane could barely get the screws out.
So needless to say, after what seemed like 20 minutes of P being locked in his room...the lock is now on the outside. Thane did store a screwdriver in one of P's drawers though...just in case we got locked in somehow ;)
So anyways, I cleaned and then obsessed about reasons she might take P away. By the way...as far as I knew she just worked for Birth to Three...little did I know that she was actually a Social Worker who worked for them...or I probably would have gone crazy.
The next morning was P's first day in a new classroom. Not a big deal. All the kids sat at the table and their teacher asked them if they wanted Raisin Bran or Cheerios.
All of them yelled out "Raisin Bran!!!" My jaw dropped. I looked at P. His lips were pursed; he had his serious face one. His silent serious face. I knew he couldn't say either of those words.
I hugged him and tried not to cry. Didn't achieve that..but I tried. I'm sure they thought I was crying because my baby was growing up, he had moved up in the rooms. But no. I was upset to actually be witness as to how far behind he was.
We go home and Liz shows up and Bernie falls in love with her. Won't leave her alone. It's pretty obnoxious when a 100+ pound dog won't leave a person trying to write alone.
Parker is napping so we just sat on my couch and talked for almost an hour. She took at least 7 pages of note. I cried.
It's amazing to me how emotional I was during this. Logically I know that getting speech services is not the end of the world. If P needed it, it would help him and we would do what we need to. I know we are fortunate that this is our only concern with him so far. Well...besides his selective hearing. But my mother instincts....they kick in. Mother instincts aren't always rational. Therefore...I'm emotional about it.
He finally wakes up and comes out...and is so shy he barely says the few words he can say. We travel to his toy room and he opens up a little bit but quickly becomes crabby because he is hungry. He gets emotional like me when he is hungry.
Feed me or I get pissy.
Basically in the short time she was with P she determined he wasn't where he needed to be. When she was leaving he threw a tantrum in front of the pantry and she just stood there and watched. "Is this pretty typical?"
I sighed, "Yes. He is a master at tantrums."
She nodded, "He should be saying words right now...at least some..to let you know what he wants."
I must admit, when she left I was excited. We were going to get him the help he needs and I'd be able to hear his beautiful voice. He would be able to tell me if he wanted to play with trucks or trains.
So she called me the next day to set up the consult with the speech therapist.
So we are sitting at P's 2 year check up. I am trying to make him stop playing with the stir- up and to stop pushing the power button to God knows what and the nurse is tallying up his test.
You know the test. "Can your child bend down, pick something up and then stand up again?" "Does your child say pronouns?" "Can your child jump on one leg, while patting his head, while mooing like a cow?"
I finally got him to sit on my lap when my favorite nurse slides a pamphlet to me and tells me to give them a call.
I look down and "Birth to Three" glares at me.
I am confused..."Um, did he fail something?"
She looks surprised, "Oh, yes. His communication. He isn't saying enough words to pass this test. You should contact Birth to Three to get him evaluated."
I just nodded, numb.
She left and we were left to wait for P's doctor.
Still numb.
The doctor came in, we talked a bit, and then she brought up his speech.
I cried.
We knew P was not where he should be with speech. We knew he wasn't talking enough, not as much as other 2 year olds. I knew doing Birth to Three for speech is by far the best thing we could be doing Birth to Three for, but still.
Hearing your child needs those service is very unsettling.
I'd say its damn near devastating..but like I said. Not the end of the world. I was being dramatic.
The next day I called them. Of course, we had just moved into not Dane County so we had to be refereed to our county's program.
The first step to the process was finishing some paperwork. We couldn't do anything until we filled it out and sent it back.
Ya, that paperwork sat on our kitchen table for almost 2 weeks. I didn't realize it, but I was in denial. I didn't want my son to have a speech problem and if I didn't fill out that paperwork then we couldn't have the evaluation and we couldn't be told he needed services.
Then one night he stood in the living room talking to me. Trying SO hard to talk to me and all I could get out of it was a slur of sounds. Not one of the sounds made sense.
I got up and filled out all the paperwork, crying, and sent it in the next day.
It may be upsetting to think that he needs services, but damnit. If he needed them...I'd get them.
P is all boy.
I think I have said this before, but I used to scoff at parents when their excuse was "Sigh..he is all boy."
Now I am that parent.
This kid doesn't stop.
He is a truck loving, dirt loving, Cars loving, dinosaur loving, ball of pure energy.
We had no real plans today so I knew we needed to get out for the house, mainly for my sanity. So our new plans included paying two bills and finding a park in MH to play at.
We get to the park and I'm relieved to see that it's not too busy. It's hard to chase after a fearless 2 year old with other kids in the way.
Yes, I chase after my kid.
His first few rounds on the playground equipment I try to be by him so he can get the hang of it. There are a LOT of big openings on playground equipment!
This time I didn't and he almost fell off it. Like for real fall, not a over protective mom thinking he was giong to fall.
My kid is not the most coordinated...thanks to a family history of being pigeon toed. He falls a lot. Totally ok to fall...buuuuut not off playground equipment. So I'm on the ground, for once, on my way to a slide I know he is going for, and he climbs up a step and falls a bit.......right next to the opening for the chain ladder. I panic and there is NO way to get to him.
All I can think is, "Oh shit.....can he die from falling that high? Why did I run this way!? Why didn't I barrel roll under the bridge so I could catch him!? Do I call Thane or 911 first!? Ohmygod. We have been here for 3 minutes and my kid is going to break his arm."
I'm not lying. That all happened in my head. I'm a little crazy.
Then...he caught himself and stood up. Thank god.
He then bypasses the nice safe slide I'm standing next to and goes to the highest one possible.
I'm telling you. No fear.
Goes down the slide and starts all over. This time I am on the side of the opening to catch him..and he does it again. The third time I walk up there with him and calmly explain to him that he has to be more careful on this step because he could fall and get hurt. I pointed to the opening and said, Ouch!
The next time I let him do it himself, with me standing right there, and he got to the step, looked at me, and slowed down his body so he wouldn't fall.
I was SO happy!! He *actually* listened to me! Mark it down!!
And then I felt guilty. Am I being too over protective? Obviously in this case..no. He almost fell and certainly would have broken something, but it did change my approach to the rest of the playground.
When he wanted to try the ladder that is a bunch of Us, I let him; even though the thought of him going up it scared the shit out of me. I helped him navigate up with one hand on his belly and one on his butt to boost him. The entire time I'm panicking thinking how I can catch him if he falls and I don't brace him in time. I pictured him slamming his chin on the bars. I thought of the guilt I'd have because even though I was holding him up I probably wouldn't be strong enough or fast enough to grab him if he totally biffed and fell while he was above me.
None of those things happened.
My kid who has never been on this ladder before was so sure footed, and with me holding him if he slipped, he was confident.
That is exactly how I want him to be.
Confident, yet he knows I'll be there if he slips.
If he falls however...well I'll be there to wipe off the dirt and snuggle til he is better. (which is usually about 4 seconds after he falls.)
My kid is a rockstar.....until you go to Kwik Trip.
I was reading a post in a mom Facebook group about bath time once and someone said that while their kids take a bath, they clean their bathroom. I thought, "What a great idea! I should do that because then I know my bathroom will actually get a good cleaning!"
I read that about a month ago...still haven't cleaned during bath time.
Maybe I will start next time.
This time....I decided to blog because well....I have a Parker story I don't want to forget.
You might not think its fantastic..but it gave me a moment of "Oh shit." and I like those...after the fact.
So we have a busy day today. Going to Hilldale to see the Easter Bunny, maybe hit up GiGis, Easter Egg hunt with Aunt Joy and the girls, and then off to Grandma's!! Doesn't sound busy, but we have to be at the egg hunt at 1...that makes our day busy.
Throw an exact time in your day with a 2 year old and more than 1 thing to do..and your day becomes busy.
I am trying to figure out how long to let him play in the bath so that I can get my hair dry and my makeup on..and then pull him screaming out of the tub to get him dressed and presentable for Mr. Bunny. then you have to figure out what time to leave to get to Hilldale to stand in line, and then to GiGi's to stand in line, and then to grab a quick lunch so we don't have a melt down at the Egg Hunt and then be at the egg hunt.
I have been trying to figure out a time to tell my mom we'd be there..but that is way too stressful. I have no idea. 5? 3? 8? Let's go with 5.
So anyways, I'm going out in public...for a while today...so I'd like to shower and be half presentable. Now how to shower when your husband is working and your 2 year old is awake? Well, shower with them of course!
Ya, easy solution unless your kid HATES showers.
He is just like my mom. Hates when water gets slashed in his face. When I finally got him to sit in the corner of the shower and the loufa was dripping on him, he got as far away as possible in our 1984 tub and glared at it like it was acid or something. Kid hates dripping water on his face.
So anyways, I got him in the tub and told him that I was going to turn the shower on...freak out. "No!! NO!! NO!!!" and then he climbed right back out. Fine. I told him I'd shower quick and then he could take a bath.
So while I got soap in my hair at lighting speed he stood outside the shower screaming like only 2 year olds can. Loud. Like a jet engine ;)
I'm rolling my eyes when all of a sudden his screams get quieter and farther away. Peak out. Bathroom door is wide open.
I shrug..he is fine. House is Parker-Proof. I will only take 2 more minutes and then I can go get him.
Then I realize...
He is naked.
and not potty trained, running through the house.
I instantly picture him peeing on my beloved furniture. On the fridge. Shit..in the fridge. On his train table. In my shoes I never put away. Oh God...in the pantry.
Panic sets in.
"PARKER!! Do you want to take a bath!!??! Parker listen!! Mommy turned the shower off! Come take a bath!!"
"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"
Ugh. He was too far gone.
So I have to get out and go get him. He is standing on his train table, just looking at me.
Not peeing. THANK GOD.
Go back in the bathroom and put him as far away from the shower nozzle as possible and then finish washing my hair hunched over at the very front of the shower...while he scream on and off because tiny drops of water are splashing him.
"DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAADDDDDDYYYYY" Ya Parker....daddy would never do this to you. Oiy.
So thanks Mom. I blame you for this trait.
Sigh....I should probably get him out and start our day.....but maybe I should wash the blue marker he has all over his belly and armpit off first?
