So we had our early intervention screening today and we failed miserably:( They had to score a 35 or higher. The scored a 10. They also failed social as well. So our next step it to have an evaluation done and see what we are really looking at. Since their appointment last week I have been really trying to work with them in developing language. They are not catching on. Although they can usually point to their eyes, ears, nose and mouth now:)
I am also trying to get Aria to not wake up and want a bottle at night. I know this should have been cut awhile ago but I am weak. We also are changing their bedtime from 6:30 (yes it is early but it worked for us) to 7:30. That has been hard even with the time change.
I guess that's it for now...the 3 hour finale of the Bacholor is on!
Monday, March 11, 2013
Friday, March 8, 2013
Best explanation of motherhood!
This lovely story was written by Dale Hanson Bourke.
We are sitting at lunch one day when my daughter casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of "starting a family." "We're taking a survey," she says half-joking. "Do you think I should have a baby?"
"It will change your life," I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral.
"I know," she says, "no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations."
But that is not what I meant at all. I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes.
I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will forever be vulnerable.
I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without asking, "What if that had been MY child?" That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her.
That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die.
I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub. That an urgent call of "Mom!" will cause her to drop a soufflé or her best crystal without a moments hesitation.
I feel that I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood. She might arrange for childcare, but one day she will be going into an important business meeting and she will think of her
baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right.
I want my daughter to know that every day decisions will no longer be routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming
children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that restroom.
However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother.
Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself.
That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. That she would give herself up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years, not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs.
I want her to know that a cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor.
My daughter's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the way she thinks.
I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his child.
I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic.
I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel with women throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice and drunk driving.
I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike.
I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or cat for the first time.
I want her to taste the joy that is so real it actually hurts.
My daughter's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes. "You'll never regret it," I finally say. Then I reached across the table, squeezed my daughter's hand and offered a silent prayer for her, and for me, and for all the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings.
We are sitting at lunch one day when my daughter casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of "starting a family." "We're taking a survey," she says half-joking. "Do you think I should have a baby?"
"It will change your life," I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral.
"I know," she says, "no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations."
But that is not what I meant at all. I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes.
I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will forever be vulnerable.
I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without asking, "What if that had been MY child?" That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her.
That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die.
I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub. That an urgent call of "Mom!" will cause her to drop a soufflé or her best crystal without a moments hesitation.
I feel that I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood. She might arrange for childcare, but one day she will be going into an important business meeting and she will think of her
baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right.
I want my daughter to know that every day decisions will no longer be routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming
children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that restroom.
However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother.
Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself.
That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. That she would give herself up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years, not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs.
I want her to know that a cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor.
My daughter's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the way she thinks.
I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his child.
I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic.
I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel with women throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice and drunk driving.
I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike.
I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or cat for the first time.
I want her to taste the joy that is so real it actually hurts.
My daughter's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes. "You'll never regret it," I finally say. Then I reached across the table, squeezed my daughter's hand and offered a silent prayer for her, and for me, and for all the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings.
Tuesday, March 5, 2013
Never a dull moment!
One of my best friends flew in from NH this past weekend and we had a blast! We took the girls to the Y to swim. They LOVED it! We did as well since it was 30 degrees outside and we haven't swam since August! I am so happy that they love water since I am such a water person! I am still wondering how I am going to like Ohio in the summer since it doesn't have a ton of lakes with in a 20 mile radius! We also had a fun girls night with some of my new friends here! It was surreal to see my new friends with my old and was a nice feeling! Anyway, we also went to Polaris which has a cool indoor/outdoor type mall. Plus a Cheesecake Factory! I love cheesecake! I did find the lunch a bit over priced and the spinach cheese dip was very bland for almost 11$. Their cheesecake is sooo worth it though! I had the red velvet and it was amazing. It even topped the red velvet cupcakes from Boston Children's. I don't think I blogged about them last April when Liv was admitted but I should have because they were really good.
She was here from Thursday to Sunday...Far to short for me:( I was sooo excited she was able to come out and see where we live.
Yesterday was the girls 15 month check up....I can't believe they are 15 months already! Aria is a little over 20lbs and Liv is 18. She is now in the 3rd percentile for weight so we are doing well! There has been something bothering me for a while now and they brought it up at our appointment after a few small test. The girls language. They don't seem to be communicating as well as most kids their age. They hardly say mama and dada let alone 5-8 other words. I mentioned it to my mom about a week ago. So our pedi refereed us to a speech therapist. I am not super worried because I know they grasp things and I am sure it will come but I wouldn't mind the help since most days I feel like I have no idea what I am doing in the education sense. I would also love for them to start communication a little better instead of crying all the time. So thats what we are working on now.
She was here from Thursday to Sunday...Far to short for me:( I was sooo excited she was able to come out and see where we live.
Yesterday was the girls 15 month check up....I can't believe they are 15 months already! Aria is a little over 20lbs and Liv is 18. She is now in the 3rd percentile for weight so we are doing well! There has been something bothering me for a while now and they brought it up at our appointment after a few small test. The girls language. They don't seem to be communicating as well as most kids their age. They hardly say mama and dada let alone 5-8 other words. I mentioned it to my mom about a week ago. So our pedi refereed us to a speech therapist. I am not super worried because I know they grasp things and I am sure it will come but I wouldn't mind the help since most days I feel like I have no idea what I am doing in the education sense. I would also love for them to start communication a little better instead of crying all the time. So thats what we are working on now.
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