Dear Tropical Storm Lee,
I hate you.
Signed, Me
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I was supposed to fly to NC today, to join my sisters and mother on a fun jaunt in Brevard. Instead, I’m stuck in the house with two stir crazy kids and Backyardigans on repeat. Not quite the disappointment that poor Suzy JD suffered, when her long-awaited vacation to the Outer Banks was cancelled by Irene. But still – LAMESAUCE. So instead of cocktails and girl chat and wedding planning and seeing my beautiful sister in her beautiful wedding dress having her bridal portrait taken, I get to do laundry, listen to Thomas the Tank Engine, and trip over the dog every thirty seconds. I say again – LAMESAUCE.
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Appointments update – my back is healing fine, and I am clear to do yoga and train for the half marathon. No more appointments from here on out. I got to see my ER CAT scan, and boy did I break that sucker off. There was a good pinky-finger-width between my vertebra and that piece, which broke off right at the base. I’m surprised it was able to knit itself back together without any repositioning, but I guess there’s enough stuff all up in there to hold them together in the right place.
As for Jack, he is ABOVE average in expressive language (YAY!), below average but still within ok limits in his speech impediments, and mildly impaired with his receptive language. So he will get therapy for his receptive language (i.e. understanding and following instructions), and while they’re at it they’ll give him therapy for his speech impediments (wook instead of look, cheethe instead of cheese, etc.) We were very pleased.
As far as the fears go . . . well, speech therapy is not a one-stop shop, so we’ll have to pursue developmental evaluations if we want to take care of them. The speech therapist (who was THE BEST, by the way) gave me the “well, fears are normal at this age” line. So I’m thinking of taking Jack back to the water park and videoing his reaction to the alligator. Because I know what normal fear responses look like (Liam is somewhat afeared of that toothsome alligator as well), and Jack’s response is over the top. Animal fight or flight instinct, beyond all reason, terrified literally out of his mind, scrabbling and fighting to get away. It’s a lot of stress for a little dude, and the parties and kid-events are only going to get scarier as he gets older. Literally every one of the birthday parties he went to this summer (about five) either were at a bounce-house place, or had a rented bounce-house. He is in the era of the bounce house and the water park, and I want him to be able to have fun with his friends, and I don’t want him to be that kid who is a drag that nobody invites to stuff.
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This is what The Professor got me for my birthday. You find out his name, but most of you know it already anyway – my main goal with the pseudonyms is to prevent being easily google-able. Anyways, I wept when I got it. Truly, I am a sentimental sap. Every time Jack sees it, he says (in exactly the same surprised tone) “Oh! It’s Bear and Puppy! Wook Mama, Puppy and Bear! Wook! Dere dey are!”
Love that kid. Love both those kids. Even though I’d really rather be in North Carolina right now. Le sigh.