Sheridan

Here are some pictures of Sheridan *not* doing the dishes in her 8th grade graduation dress. I couldn't find these when I first posted updates, so here they are now. Such gorgeous girls we have. :)

No new news on the Kidney Front. We are awaiting the docs from the dialysis center and the hospital to get together and make a plan. After that happens, there should be some testing that happens to qualify Sheridan as a transplant candidate, and THEN she gets put on a list. Ugh. She still gets dialysis 3 times a week before school at FIVE AM. Double ugh. She's made the transition to high school pretty smoothly with a few extra "academy" classes which help her catch up from when she was in the hospital. We're so happy that she has recovered this much so far. Thanks to all for your prayers, love and support. Continued prayers are appreciated, of course.

Boys of Summer

Here's a picture of the boys from last month. This was right before heading to the beach. We have so much fun in the sand and surf that we never remember to take pictures once we get there. And we go so often that it doesn't seem like we have to take pictures *every* time we go. But, we were particularly lax about it this summer. Beach season is not nearly over so we'll have more opportunities for photos. I'll try to remember the camera next time...

Lucky Day!

So, have I mentioned that Ben has a brain that works a bit differently than the norm? Of course not, this is just my 3rd post! This is a weird topic to just jump into, but in order to appreciate the story, you're gonna need some background. I figured that was as good a way as any to introduce the topic, as awkward as it is.

Hmm, where to begin? Well, let's just say that although Ben's language development has always been within the typical range, his interest in language as communication has not nearly been as prominent as his interest in language as "interesting sounds". Ben's first word was not "duck", but "quack". It took so long I thought he might never call me "Mama". The sounds things make are, and always have been, very exciting. The vacuum is a delight, car/truck noises thrill, silly sound effects (brrrrr with quivering lips for example) are often hilarious.

We used Baby Sign with Ben when he was wee and he was a champ at communicating with his tiny little hands. That's him signing "moon" which was, as it is sometimes, out during the day. Spoken language seemed to come more slowly, but not dramatically so, especially since he could tell us so much *without* actual speech. When he did have that "language explosion" that so many children do around age 2, it was an explosion of nouns. Labeling his environment was a primary goal. But, the labels weren't used as a 'conversation starter'. He wasn't interested, necessarily, in sharing his observations with you, just in naming for naming's sake. Numbers and Letters were of particular interest and walking around the block took ages as he would have to toddle up to each house number on the block to touch and name the numbers there.

As Ben grew during his 2nd year, it became more clear to me that he was not picking up the subtle rules and nuances within spoken conversation. His social interactions were awkward. He would repeat things over and over. He required prompting to answer simple questions. It was obvious to me that his learning style was rote memorization, learning pat answers, to participate in conversations. His vocabulary was large and growing, but mostly consisted of 'sound bytes'.

All of this is much more clear to me now that Ben is older.
During this time I constantly questioned myself about whether this was within the range of typical development. Maybe I'm overanalyzing things due to my experience with special needs kids in the classroom. Maybe this is okay for a Two. Maybe it's not okay when language presents itself like this *still* at Three. Maybe I ought to get a professional opinion.

And so, I did. Sort of. We switched insurance plans in the Fall and the new plan did not cover Ben's physical therapy. The only way we could continue (and have it paid for) was if he qualified for the SC state early intervention program. The case worker who came to our home was very nice. She observed Ben play, she interviewed me, and added up all the numbers. He didn't qualify. At all. Not physically, not developmentally, not cognitively. I wasn't exactly devastated. I had had doubts as to the efficacy of the PT on Ben's muscle strength (once a week, walk up these stairs--ta da--therapy!) And my observations of the speech therapists where we went for PT were not very impressive. And the problem was so not 'speech' as in the formation of sounds and words, but the understanding of language. Which just can't be addressed appropriately in a tiny cubicle with an unfamiliar adult with flash cards. Really, it can't.

I decided to wait until Ben was Three. Then I would know for sure. Because I *know* Three. I'm an expert on Threes. Almost 10 years in the classroom with Threes--all kinds of Threes--would help me decide if MY Three was neurotypical or not. It was silly, really. Who was I kidding? I KNEW Ben better than anybody. And I had KNOWN since he was a baby. But, it's a big thing to admit, I think. A big thing to admit to yourself, more than anybody else, that your Baby is DIFFERENT. It's not like I kept all of this pondering to myself. I talked about it a lot. My family knew I had concerns. My close friends listened to all my stories and thoughts about it. Mark could practically be an early childhood special ed consultant with all the information I had loaded him up with since Ben's birth. Yet. I didn't want to think about it until Ben was Three. There would be plenty of time then to research, investigate, make decisions, deal.

So, life continued on. We supported Ben's learning style as we always had. With prompts and cues, practiced routines, turn-taking games, language expansion--special ed. techniques that come naturally and would have whether or not we knew the special ed. jargon to describe it. As parents, you just 'do' these things. I'm sure my background helped, but I don't give it higher billing than the natural instinct you are given when you become a mother.

Ben will be three-and-a-half soon. He loves books and stories (he always has). He loves music and singing and has become a regular performer when the video camera is on. He plays with his little brother and recently began initiating pretend play scenerios. He still has trouble interpreting novel conversation and relies heavily on learned 'scripts' and pat answers when interacting with others. We see growth every day and each tiny step towards understanding his world makes me want to cheer. We've begun researching intervention options. We've grown more comfortable with the terms that describe him. He hasn't been officially "diagnosed" with anything at this point. I question the value of a "diagnosis", even as I know how much that label could help out. And by "help" I mean strictly monetarily. Early Intervention is paid for federally or by the state as long as you 'qualify' with a 'diagnosis'. I'm waiting until we move to decide on that.

Okay, so that was an awful lot of backstory. Way more than anticipated. I can see this blog business is not going to help me with my brevity in writing issues...

Anyway, on to the story:
Every morning, the boys get vitamins--fish oil which they lap up from the spoon like candy and a couple of chewable multivites that are in the shape of jungle animals. There are lions, elephants, hippos, and tigers. The tigers do not look like tigers. They look like cats. And they are the favoritest shape around here. Every morning Ben will ask for a 'cat' vitamin. I refuse to dig through the bottle for specific animal shapes and instead let the cards (vitamins) fall as they may when I shake them into my hand. I tell Ben, "we'll see" "maybe it will be a cat, maybe not" and if there happens to be a cat, I'll tell him "well, hey, it's your lucky day!" And so it goes, every morning. It's one of a million routine exchanges that make up Ben's day. There is some unexpectedness (which vite shape will it be?), but the words that describe it, that make it 'safe' are the same. Language from one routine does not usually transfer to another. They are seperate entities and have their own 'script'. It is a rare and wonderful thing when Ben will say something out of typical context, but appropriate for another. Case in point. The boys were sitting at the table awaiting me to finish up dinner prep and serve their meal. I had given them a handful of raisins to tide them over. Dinner contains the usual, Ben saying superfastgrace, food on the floor, me getting up half a dozen times for more water, more food, a washrag... I recap our day, we talk about our plans for the next. Later, after dinner, Ben is climbing down from his chair, he reaches into the folds of his shirt, pulls something out and practically shouts "it's a lucky day!" I am puzzled and look at his beaming face. It is not breakfast time. It is certainly not a vitamin. It is half an hour after lots of conversation. He has a huge grin on his face and is triumphantly holding up a raisin. A "lucky day," indeed.

"Chocolate Bunnies"

This is what I awaken to this morning. Will (now 20 months old) sits up next to me in bed. {We co-sleep. Yes, all of us, in our Queen size bed. Don't ask me how we'll fit when the new one gets here.} He is squinty, bed-headed, and has a small smile on his baby lips. He says it again in his croaky, just-woke-up little voice, "chocolate bunnies." It's a wonderful way to be woken up, and it's not uncommon at all around here.

Will often wakes up with food on his mind. The first word he utters upon waking is usually some sort of yummy treat: "banana," "pancakes," "smoothie," "cake!" I have wondered if perhaps he doesn't get enough to eat, to always awaken talking about food, or if he just happens to dream a lot about eating. It's true that Will eats with gusto--digging in *while* saying "Amen!", asking for more with his mouth full, cheeks bursting, eating all of one item before moving onto the next... He climbs up into his chair at the table if he spots me even near the kitchen. In true brotherly fashion, he will do the 'old switcheroo' with Ben's plate during a meal to sneak whatever morsel Ben has overlooked. He's also figured out how to move the chairs over to the counter where I am preparing a meal. He climbs up and 'helps' with the food prep by tasting every ingredient.

I guess he is just a Food Lover. And who can blame him, really? Our happiest times are when we are all together around the family dining table. Praying, laughing, nourishing our bodies, sharing conversation and stories about our day... And for such a short person to be able to be at eye-level with his family? That's got to feel pretty good.

We do love our sleep around here. Naps are necessary and always encouraged, if not enforced. :) Both Mark and I love to indulge in 'putting the boys down' for naps or nighttime as a way to sneak in a snooze. And the boys are usually pretty cooperative. They, like us, enjoy the snuggling and drifting off to sleep. It's the waking up that can be grizzly. Waking up is never fun when you *like* to sleep. Unless you can help yourself make the transition--perhaps focusing your thoughts on your plans for the day, saying a quick prayer, doing stretches, or maybe by thinking of something that is just as lovely as being in your warm bed... "Chocolate bunnies"--that oughta do it.

First Post

Well, here it is. The blog nobody was waiting for... :)

I have been considering starting one for some time now. Mostly so I have a place to put all the Kid Stories I have saved in the ever-shrinking mamabrain. And. *true confessions moment* I have no baby books. I haven't recorded a single moment of my children's lives other than on film. Well, digital film. And those are all locked away in the computer. The boys' anyway. I do have scrapbooks from the girls' baby photos that I put together from Mark's box of photos. But that happened before I became a biological mother. Back when I had Time. I've also thought that this would be a nice place for family and friends to check in and "see" the kids as they grow. I'll try to give a rundown on what each of them are up to in this post.

Taryn
turned 15 this summer and is a sophomore at Elma High School. She competed at the county fair this year with one of their horses, Rose and won two ribbons. She is on the Drill Team, FFA, and in 4-H. Here's a picture of her from August.

Sheridan

is finally home from Seattle Children's Hospital and Ronald McDonald House! She has been 'officially' diagnosed with chronic renal failure and still receives kidney dialysis 3 days per week. They never have figured out exactly*why* this happened, other than the food poisoning/virus that seemed to trigger the shut down. Sheridan hasn't let any of her health problems slow her down, though. Here's a picture of her all dolled up in her 8th grade dance dress. She has started her freshman year at Elma High School with Taryn.

Ben

is almost 3 and a half! He loves the library and his music enrichment class we attend once a week. Favorite activities of late are playdough, playing 'chase' with his brother, and riding his Skuut bike.

Will

is 20 months and our resident nudist. The boy will not keep clothes on. He talks all. the. time. and is always in action. It is difficult to get a picture of him that isn't blurry.

Baby

is due to appear sometime next month. :) Photos coming soon, of course.

Mark's new job in Charleston is going well. He stays in Goose Creek with friends during the week and comes home on the weekends while we wait for our house to sell. Although we do not like being separated during the week, it's sort of 'old hat' after enduring all of the deployments of the last 5 years. Yep, that's right. We'll be celebrating our 5th Anniversary this month. Crazy.