One of the reasons I am always so hesitant about going away, other than the safety factors when it comes to Boo, is coming home. Now to be honest, I love being home. In my bed. Alone. Did I say that clearly….ALONE as in no child in a 10 foot radius. As in no child’s foot (finger, toe, hand, nose,hair) in my nose, back or any other place they manage to get comfortable. It even helps when we come home and my husband is immediately on duty. Not that I don’t love when he is home…but eight days of togetherness with one or both of our children sharing our bed and each one of us is left with an inch of mattress real estate?

Amazing, how one little girl can take up so much real estate.

Being alone in a closed room…that is dream come true my friends.

Does this dream come true? Well, not so much with Boo. It takes at least 4 nights of “cry it out” boot camp before she realizes that I am not her cuddle buddy. When we got home she was sick, so we warred with do we let her sleep with us where we can make sure she isn’t aspirating or do we decide to initiate project back to sleep without interrupting mine.

Safety won. I slept in her room on the guest bed. Husband got the cherished night alone. Without a child coughing on them, kicking them, drooling on them, having a foot (finger, toe, hand, etc…) shoved up their anywhere. 

But last night? Last night I was determined. Determined, I tell you to sleep. ALONE. 

It did not start off well. She cried for me, for Allie. Telling us she was all done ‘night night’. She started coughing. I was afraid she was choking, but erred on the side if she was crying she was breathing. I listened very carefully to make sure she wasn’t vomiting. I sat firm. On the other side of the door.

87 minutes later. Quiet. (by the way, what is UP with the professionals that tell you that a child will cry themselves to sleep after 10 minutes? I want them to meet Boo!). By 8:30 both girls were in bed. I had a nice glass of wine and a quiet rest was had by all!

Thank you to,

All those who hold me up when I fall down.

All those who look at Boo and see the miracle that she is.

All the doctors, nurses and everyone at Children’s Hospital. It is thanks to you that my child is home and healthy.

Thank you for (put whomever you pray to here),

Allowing me this place to vent, to cry, to rejoice and learn.

Giving me insight and innovations.

Giving Boo the best big sister possible.

Giving Allie the best little sister she could ask for.

Giving me the strength to advocate when needed.

Giving me the patience when I think I have none left.

Giving me the knowledge to know when I do not know enough.

Knowing that I never would have thought I would be a good enough parent to a child like Allie let alone Boo. 

Thank you for proving me wrong.
 

Four things I am thankful for….

Allie had the BEST BIRTHDAY ever when surprised with a trip to Disney by her grandparents. (Although I worry that next year they are NEVER going to meet her new expectations!)

My husband, the girls and I survived 8 crazy days vacationing with my parents. And we all still like one another.

Crazy puppy did not ruin my sister-in-law’s house while they babysat. But my brother-in-law is NEVER allowed to get a puppy.

This photo, because for one moment, Boo was a normal little girl enthralled with a Princess.

 
 There is A LOT more that I am thankful for….but for now this picture says it all.
 

Today was the first anniversary of Boo’s IEP. Last year I walked into the meeting having no idea what to expect. This is something else left out of that What to Expect book…..

Last year, when Boo entered the integrated preschool I was not in love with the program. I did not know how to be forceful with Boo’s needs. I didn’t realize that if it wasn’t written on a piece of paper and signed off by 45 different people Boo would not get the level of care she needs.  Within 3 months her teacher realized that Boo needed more, and advocated that Boo continue in the integrated part-time but move to a program dedicated to special needs 1:1 education. Within 3 months of Boo starting that hybrid program she began to talk, interract more and just blossomed.

So, this year, I was more prepared. I read up on how to approach the meeting, what ideas to have at the ready, what concerns I may need to raise. Yes, I obsessed over this meeting.
And I honestly have to say, I was worried for nothing.


I have heard and read about the horror of the IEP meeting. And I am sure that my Polly-anna attitude is due to Boo being in preschool and not the lower elementary grade (or worse, the higher). Our town school system has such a unique program in place to capture children right after Early Intervention.

And it works.

I am lucky to live in a town that understands the quicker you start therapies in the child’s life the more likely chance the child will respond. That is willing to give an almost 4YO an aide, whose sole responsiblity is to make sure that 1. Boo doesn’t escape and 2. that Boo is engaged in the classroom.

What I didn’t understand is why we couldn’t just write, “Reviewed and Renewed” on the IEP. Instead of meeting for an hour, having to rewrite the plan and then send off the form for 45 signatures!

I read this blog  They Walk Among Us posting by Robert Rummel-Hudson. It is a quirky little post about the mystical special needs father. They are such mysterious creatures they could have a support group with the Yeti, Big Foot and the Loch Ness Monster.

Now I know, Boo is an incredible lucky girl. She has two involved parents. Heck most “normal” children don’t have 2 parents who love and support them. Let alone a big sister who tells the babysitter that Boo cannot have peanut butter because it is dairy (well you can see her confusion butter).

Do I make the majority of decisions for Boo? Yes, but her dad is 100% on her side. We split the therapy appointments so we both know what is going on with her. And I am usually the one who stays in the hospital or up with her when she doesn’t sleep. I tend to do the majority of MD appointments. But that doesn’t mean her dad isn’t involved. It just means we have another child who needs a parent too.

He is the one who constantly goes over body parts, comforts her when she is frustrated and will blow bubbles for hours on end. He is more the playmate (to both girls) than I am. But he is never ‘babysitting’. He loves to brag about how far Boo has come.

Because I have an understanding boss and Husband has a very nice schedule Boo’s care doesn’t fall on just one of us. We are both the bread winner and the care giver. This makes it nice because while we get burnt out, we can keep our  rule that only one of us can get crazy at a time.

I’m not bragging because I know I am not alone. Sure I am probably one of the few who’s husband isn’t lucky enough to be home during the daylight hours. But I know there are more involved dads out there.

I for sure know that they are not a mystical creature!

Throw Back Thursday. This post was first published on 20-NOV-2012. I hope you enjoy this trip down memory lane with me.

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When I became a mom I had absolutely no idea I would also become a mystical figure. I have morphed into Santa Claus, an Easter Bunny, a Leprechaun (don’t ask), had to dress up for Halloween and become a fairy. Not just any fairy mind you, but the all important Tooth Fairy.

And did you know that every person has their own special fairy? Yup, me neither. I thought they were all named Tooth Fairy. But as I found last night. This, my friends is not true. There is more to this than when we were little. Now there are notes and expectations I never in  my life imagined.

 Not only did I have to think of a name (Annabeth–I am reading the Percy Series), I had to figure out what I like to do (ride Pegasus and Unicorns), did I know a tooth fairy named Celestia (nope, but apparently Annabeth recalled Allie reading a fairy book with a fairy named Zoe). On the back was a lovely picture Allie had drawn.

So Annabeth took the picture and tooth. She left a note of reply and a dollar bill. Allie woke up this morning and proclaimed: This is horrible! My fairy took my presents but didn’t leave me anything. And last year I got FIVE DOLLARS!!!

Now, I was sure COMPLETELY sure that Annabeth had taken care of everything late last night when Boo was up screaming. I asked Allie if she was sure, did she check under all of her pillows. Nope. Annabeth is a foolish fairy who didn’t realize that she was supposed to put the treasure right where Allie expected it to be. Except, Allie is kind of worried.

You see, last year she got FIVE dollars. And this year the Tooth Fairy Annabeth only left her ONE dollar. Allie said she figured out why:



“Wow, I guess you and Daddy were right. The economy is so bad even the Tooth Fairy had to cut back”.

Lessons learned, my friends, lessons learned.

I confess to being one of those undecided voters. Even with less than 24 hours before I vote, I am concerned that I do not fully endorse or heck even like either Presidential candidate. The local level, I am sure of whom I approve. But on the Grand Stage? I am concerned on many levels. 

Three simple questions I have about tomorrow’s election:

1. Do either of the candidates realize that the people of NY and NJ, who have so much going on with their lives right now, understand that their votes must count too?
2. Do the candidates realize that if they spent as much money on the national debt as they have spent on advertising, calling my house 45 times in one day, traveling (planes, trains and automobiles) and support our Country would be completely debt free and the recession would be over? And we might be able to cure homelessness, healthcare and feed the poor?
3. Do the politicians realize that they are supposed to work for us, those who elect them and not the lobbyists that paid for all that encompasses #3?

If either candidate could answer one of those questions, I would promise them my vote!

One question I do not have, is that our votes must count. Otherwise we cannot complain about the State of Our Union. So tomorrow, November 6th please vote. Even if our votes may cancel one another out it is still important for our voices to be heard.

If this is what having ADHD is like, children (and their parents/teachers/anyone they come into contact with) have my complete and utter empathy. They already had my sympathy and definitely more patience than I ever could imagine. Before the Prednisone. After the Prednisone? I am wondering exactly how they manage not to be in the principals office for bouncing off the walls during class.

Today, I made the mistake of having a Diet Coke. At work, while having to concentrate on very sensitive documents. It was not a good idea. I could hardly focus and when I answered the phone, my coworker told me that I was talking too fast for her to understand.