Just do it!

It's funny how blogging can become such a must do that on the checklist instead of the novel and inspired creative space it started out as. Insta Fridays I suck at because frankly getting the pictures from the phone to the computer is a PITA! Same goes for all pictures. How do people do this for a living?! Lately I haven't been on here because we've been busy being sick, traveling, doing seasonal stuff with Vincent, learning to walk (finally!), but I've also been wondering where my inspiration went to. Blog burnout. It's what a lot of bloggers experience, and then choose to fold their site. I refuse to let that happen! So I need a new plan and goal for this space. Something to inspire me (and you) everyday. It's percolating. I just need to rededicate myself and have some self-discipline. Til next time!

The motherload insta friday

OK: Let's do this! I'm late on doing last week's Insta post too. Eat it up! Don't you love getting a peek into another person's personal life?

It's perfectly acceptable for your barista to put a foam heart in your latte.

Especially when he asks if you're bringing one to a friend. Flowers in my cup? Yes, please!

This is why I brought my friend coffee. She got this for Vincent. She has my complete gratitude.

Especially when it means I can capture Vincent upright. How cute are these tiny legs? I guess he takes after his mama with chicken legs like these!

My nephew came to visit. He watched Driven while I worked and then embarrassed him with this picture. I love him so and hope I can hang out with him more before he heads off to Marine boot camp.

Why do I love my sister? Let me count the many thoughtful gifts she sends me. A wine bottle humming bird feeder! Too bad it didn't come full of wine. Can't wait to hang this bad boy outside my office window!

We went for sushi and Asian. I haven't had sushi since before I got pregnant with Vincent. It was just as good as I remembered.

And then my other nephew came to visit and Vincent had the best time hanging out with him. They even wore matching shirts to the farmstead.

This picture doesn't do the excitement face that Vincent makes with animals. He loved looking at the goats. Mama likes goats too. Guess that means we're getting a goat for a pet. Daddy?

I think Vincent could have ridden the tractor trikes all day long, but Daddy's back was tired after two lapse around.

Swinging on a wooden swing with one of your sisters is the best. 

My sister got Vincent this slide. We haven't put it outside yet because we're still working on the patio. I'm thinking about selling tickets to my indoor toddler obstacle course.

I love that this boy loves to read. "Books!" We go to the library every week.

I'm going to be a bridesmaid in my sister-in-law's wedding next summer. This is the inspiration photo of what she wants for dresses. We get to pick our own dress.

I'm thinking this dress.

I got this shamrock for my birthday in March. It's she magnificent. She was just a tiny, almost dying plant when I got her, but with some love and sun, she's my pride and joy.

Look at that smile. But look for a theme here.

We're addicted to our sippy. We got rid of our paci at 6 months, but sippies are here to stay! Whatever. If it helps him self-soothe/teeth, I'm OK with that.

I did my hair for once. I love making these curls by wrapping my hair around the barrel of the curling iron instead of twirling the curling iron around my hair. Try it sometime!

We're teaching our son all kinds of manners. Lick that last bit of yogurt out of the bowl, son!

Oh, hey Vincent! I didn't see you for that implant in your face. Oh, I guess that's just your sippy cup again.

It's hard to get a picture without our friend anymore. He's even taken to rocking and hugging it. I don't even get that kind of love!

How will I tell you Mommy has MS?

This question has been running through my head lately. Of course we're not anywhere near this milestone, but still, it's a subject that requires delicacy. Children only understand what's right in front of them. Mommy's throwing up=Mommy's sick. Mommy's got a cut on her finger=Mommy's hurt. But how do you explain something that can have no outward signs (if you're lucky) or how do you explain the sudden onslaught of potentially scary things. Mommy can't walk=Mommy can't play with me. Not true, I know, but it's still something a child might think.

I'm fortunate that I have no symptoms. I take a once daily, painful injection to ward them off. And it's working. How long? Who knows.

I worry because my mother was sick. She both suffered from anxiety and from emphysema. Going out in public was difficult for her, let alone getting out with an oxygen tank and the fear that someone could be wearing obnoxious perfume that could send her into a asthmatic-anxiety tailspin. She didn't even make it to my college graduation.

I know I have a better chance being a more healthy mother than mine ever was, but will I be perceived as normal if I don't continue to do as well has I have been? Children are mean and naturally have bullish tendencies from all the hormones racing through them. I hope that my health never gets in the way of being the mother I always wished I had had and the mother Vincent wants and deserves.

Give him a break

Tonight I was doing online research about teething. Actually, toddler teething. And I found nothing except a handful of forum advice. Really? Do no other kids not have problems eating when they have no teeth? Just my kid?

I did discover, however, the average development of teeth, when they come in and in what order. I don't know why I hadn't been bothered up until now to read up on this more. Most likely because I quit reading all the books when Vincent dropped off the milestone hit list. It saved me the anxiety and stress of knowing what a normally developed child is doing. I wouldn't call it denial. I would call it acceptance of the situation and avoidance of the "normal." But back to teeth. After having discussed with my friend that her daughter is also teething, I thought, "How strange. She's been teething for like a year. Vincent's been teething for three months." And then it hit me: He's been teething for three months. Where other babies get more than a year to complete this painful process, he's getting hit up and hit hard.

So this week where we've seen meltdown after meltdown, him refusing to eat or drink, extreme tiredness even before bedtime, night wakings that must be ignored, well, he's growing a bit of exoskeleton. Duh. That is: "Duh, Mama." So while I've wanted to pull my hair out, texted my sisters and friends so much I'm thankful for an unlimited data plan, and maybe even taken it all out on my husband because of the frustration of it all (whiney and needy much?), I should have been taking a deep breath, giving Vincent lots of snuggles, cuddling up with him and reading books, and not gone cross when any food but yogurt was refused. Teething=hard work. Teething=over time in patience for mama.

A video of the current Vincent the Teether. He's no fun at all.

(Don't you wish I would blog about something other than parenting? Me too.)

Terrible 17-almost-18-months

Forget terrible twos. We've hit them. The terrible part that is. Age is just a number, right? Vincent can take the wind out of your sail and make you exhausted in seconds flat. Where picking him up and going home used to be mildly enjoyable, it's become a headache lately. Just trying to figure out what he's throwing a fit and crying about is like trying to learn Morse Code—and I'm pretty sure that's  easier. To help, I've frantically been trying to teach him signs so we can communicate. The meltdowns seem to occur when there's a lack understanding on my part. Lately I've been resorting to carrying him around the house while he points out directions. I've never been so happy for a pointer finger. But to put it in perspective just how unreasonable he's been lately: This afternoon we went for a walk around the house. I do this so I can show him the birds flying around and so I can get a closer look at how I'd like to plan some flower beds. When we reached the back of the house, little mister wanted to go in the backdoor and threw himself back and started carrying on that we did not indeed go through that particular door. I explained to him that we couldn't go in that door because it was locked. There are just not enough toddler signs to explain that.

Coffee and watching the hummingbirds at my new feeder are what brings me peace joy these days. I know these moods of Vincent's will pass. I hope that they'll maybe get better when he's walking and can just go to wherever he wants to show me what he wants. That is if he'll ever leave my side. I'm not sure why his separation anxiety has suddenly got worse.

On the upswing

Vincent had therapy on Friday, and it was the best session we've ever seen out of him. His therapist put together a ball pit in one of the therapy blow-up pools, filling it to the brim with balls. I've never seen so much delight on this kid's face. I regret not capturing it on video, but it's not a memory I'm likely to forget. He was transformed in there. And he was having so much fun that he was even brave enough to climb out of the chest-high tub and grab the cars and balls that slipped out. Each time he climbed in and out he finessed it a little bit more until you would have thought he had been doing it for a while. His therapist said that him climbing in and out was really hard work, and that if we could imagine climbing in and out of a tub that came up that high on us, it would put it in perspective just how far he's come. Um, yeah! She also tossed out some therapy speak about how the ball pit was stimulating his nerves and overwhelming his senses so he might actually feel more of his body and be more aware of limbs he's not usually aware of or know how to move. And you would have thought it was just new-age-therapy babble, but the kid walked so much better after he got out of the pit—and only holding onto one hand! I'm a true believer that therapy and early intervention are really best.

We did discuss his social and communication delays (i.e. not making eye contact and not smiling in response to our smiles) the doctor was worried about and that brought up the A word. Throughout therapy the therapist would ask Vincent to hand him cars and make him look at her. By the end he was making better eye contact, but only a few seconds at a time. Because of Vincent now being at such a impressionable age where therapy can make the most difference, we've decided to do once a week therapy sessions with this therapist in addition to the Infant & Toddler Services therapist who see him. Poor little man is going to get worked.

We're also inundating his weekends with stimuli. This morning we had a play date with a dear friend and her daughter who is only a month older than Vincent, but in my eyes seems off the charts in development. She was the perfect playmate for Vincent because she doesn't get in his space yet showed him how to be independent. After a few minutes of sitting scared on my lap, he crawled off and started playing. He did get a little threatened when my lap was claimed by his new friend, but she quickly vacated the area—but not before giving Vincent a little hug. Best moment ever!

We also took Vincent to his first baseball game. Although I worried how hot it was, we were able to cool down in some of the stores in the stadium. And because we came with family, Vincent was never without someone who wanted to hold him or wanted to walk him around. He was mesmerized by all the signage and people. Maybe a little overwhelmed at first, but he warmed up—especially when we gave him some fries. So healthy.

Exploring Kauffman Stadium. 

Tomorrow we're having lunch at the in laws. This house is never going to have down time ever again!

Love him as he is

As a first time mom there is a lot you don't know. (Go ahead and read all those books. When the shit hits the fan, see if you remember it! Ha!) You rely on other mommies to compare notes about your little ones. You ask your doctors questions, and then there's the Internet (it's your worst frienemy). But really, you're just doing many things by the seat of your pants and what works best for your new little family. (And yes, even after 17 months, parenting is still as stressful and new because it's constantly changing as your child grows and develops.)

Let me get real with you: I've shared that Vincent is a difficult child. He's clingy and not a naturally curious guy. That's OK, right, when you have a cuddler and a toddler who you don't have a chase around at birthday parties? He just sits next to you drinking his sippy cup, patting your leg every now and then. You handle the emotions surrounding his physical delays, and by handle you freak out. But in the end, with some therapy, you see progress. You think to yourself, "OK. We're doing good." Just in time to enter a new dreaded task: the autism screening. You wonder what exactly that entails and enlist the help of your frienemy (see earlier point), and your heart falls—because there's a lot you don't know about being a first time mommy. You learn behaviors that you thought were endearing could actually be behaviors of an autistic child. And a weight check for your child becomes a longer appointment where the pediatrician takes the time to "play" with Vincent, but he's actually checking for something more. You hear your first official "Don't be concerned if we start talking about autism." And then the sinker: You learn that your sister has been thinking for months that he's showed signs.

There's been tears. There's been anger on top of residual anger left over from the motor development delays. There's been frustration because you want your child to lead a normal life and you want to lead a normal parental life. You don't want to have to seek the inner special circle for parents with special needs kids. You don't want to have to contemplate any more of the "nonnormal" shit.

And then you get over it. For the most part. Because you have a beautiful child who is here. Who does smile and laugh. Who may or may not be autistic. Who melts your heart and you can't wait to spend time with everyday.

You see this:

And you know you've got it good! No matter what the future holds.