Transition

Tomorrow is the beginning of the end.

Okay, perhaps that is just a tad dramatic. But when Tycho turns three in July he will age out of the birth-to-three early intervention program that he's in, and EI is transferred to the school district, and tomorrow we have out first transition meeting at his school with his therapists and the school district representatives and I am feeling nauseous for reasons other than just pregnancy.

I guess they have to officially tell us what's going on three months before his birthday, which means we start the eval process now. I honestly have no idea what will happen. I don't think he will qualify for services in speech anymore, but who knows in the other categories. I have really no idea what he is supposed to be doing right now anyway, according to the charts, because I haven't looked at them since we got him into his school. Because they are crazy-making.

I'm so nervous. I still feel super green when it comes to advocating for my kid and apparently it's even harder to qualify for services through the school district than it was for Boyer and I'm happy that he's made so much progress but I know he's not 100% caught up yet and he would so benefit and omg free preschool 5 days a week would be absolutely incredible for our family. At least we have everyone from Boyer there with us for these meetings to help us through. Whatever happens happens. And we are working on a preschool backup plan in the case that he doesn't get in, because school is just amazing for him. It will all be okay, I just wish it wasn't so hard.



Also, really, if preschool is so super beneficial and free public school is a basic right, then why the fuck isn't there free public preschool? For real.

Obligatory updates.

I feel neglectful of the blog but I still don't have much to say other than how much I feel like barfing all the time. All I really want to do is complain about stupid minor pregnant problems on Facebook but I can't because we haven't officially announced anything and I'm hormonal and grumpy all the time and I am kind of taking it out on Kyle.

I also haven't posted about Tycho in ages either. He is... kind of amazing. His speech therapist thinks he will be at age appropriate when we do his transition evaluation next month. He is starting to use like, actual legitimate sentences here and there. We bought him some books about babies. Nothing "big brother" specific quite yet, but just general info on how babies grow and he very much likes the "Egg Book" and he can say egg and sperm and uterus and I showed him the pictures we have from his birth and he said "Ouch! Mama sad! Mama push!" Basically he is adorable.

Today is eight weeks. I look roughly as pregnant as I did at about 20 weeks with Tycho, especially in the evening. Pictures later.

Christmas Recap

So here it is, the usual rundown of our holiday.

But this year it was anything but usual. We planned to have dinner on Christmas Eve at my parents house, and then host them for breakfast and present-opening with Tycho the next morning.

It was hectic getting things together on time, because this time of year my work schedule is insane, and our house cleaner no-showed the week of and everything was a disaster. We rescheduled with the agency for a cleaner to come on the evening of the 24th, theoretically to clean while we were at dinner. I felt terrible and planned to give her a gazillion dollar tip. Anyway, it's five pm, I'm wrapping presents before we leave for dinner, and Kyle is showing the new cleaner around the house and the power goes out. On Christmas Eve. ON CHRISTMAS EVE. So, we wait for a few, hoping it will come back on, but it looks like the whole block is out, stoplights and everything, and I have zero faith that anything will be done about it in a timely manner.

Be proud of me; I did not panic. We were in no condition to host in the morning, so I called my dad and told him we were moving Christmas there. In the dark (because obviously we don't own flashlights or candles), by the light of Kyle's phone, we packed up all the presents, some still not wrapped, all of our clothes and toiletries, and all of the groceries for breakfast the next morning, while Tycho was watching Daniel Tiger on my phone to keep him from panicking. And it all went... great? Besides Kyle getting the flu, which I suppose isn't so great, but we moved everything more or less without a hitch, and Tycho had a great Christmas.

"Santa" brought Tycho a train set for Christmas, and I didn't want to be overwhelmed with new toys, I asked friends and family to keep it to additions to his set (or, even better, donate to his school, but people like buying THINGS, it seems). I had less than high hopes, but mostly we got a lot of train stuff, and it all fits together in one box and we have both a happy baby and a happy mama.

Two and a half was just the perfect age for Christmas. He loved opening presents, but didn't go bananas and try to tear through everything and was pleasant and excited and adorable and it was wonderful. And I have graduated to full motherhood, because I did not care one bit what might have been under the tree for me because I was having so much fun experiencing everything through him.

Trick or Treat

So I suppose I should post some of those pictures I referenced in my last post, huh?


We'll start with Halloween. This was our first year going trick-or-treating with Tycho, and also the first year that you can't just stuff him in a vaguely animal themed onesie and be done with it. Costume was going to be an issue, because he won't wear anything on his head, and 99% of costumes for toddlers involve some sort of hood or hat or head piece, so no. And I didn't want to dress him up as just some random thing, and instead something that he would actually be interested in. But the things he is interested in are trains, fish, and Lightning McQueen, and I'm sorry, but I'm just not creative enough for that. But wait... another thing he likes? Candy! Because candy!

When we were kids my sister was an m&m one year so my mom and I copied that costume (scaled down to Tycho size) pretty much exactly. And it was perfect. Nothing on his head, he could just wear his regular clothes underneath, so no worry about it being weather appropriate, and now that Halloween is over I need to remove the straps and he has two m&m pillows for his room, huzzah!

He was... okay... with trick or treating. We had a really rough day on Halloween so he was in a funky mood when we met friends to go door to door. He wasn't interested in wearing his costume and even though I had tried to explain the concept to him, he didn't really grasp what we were about to do But after a couple houses he figured it out pretty easy and it was all groovy. I don't think he ever once said trick-or-treat, and he insisted on being carried between houses for the entire hour we were out and my arms were sore for days, but he had a really good time, and it's going to be a happy memory. Babydude especially liked all the pumpkins. :)

The Best Thing

I have a lot of photo-heavy, low on content stuff to post what with Halloween and Trick or Treating and a trip to the zoo and his big boy haircut and our holiday family pictures, but that is all nothing compared to this.

Tycho talks.

Rocket science! You guys, I was so worried. My stomach was in knots for months as I was waiting and waiting and waiting, first for the language explosion that I was expecting that never came, and then to get him evaluated, and finally to actually get him placed into a program and start doing something. It was an emotional roller coaster, harder than I ever expected parenting to be, and a experience I never would have dreamed I would have.

The months ago Tycho could barely put two words together. He didn't have names for anyone or anything besides mama. He would lose old words every time a new word would appear. And we couldn't communicate effectively and we were all frustrated.

But now. Last night we were eating dinner and Tycho was sitting happily at the table say, "EAT FISH! EAT FISH! MORE FISH! PLEASE FISH!" while he ate. He uses rudimentary sentences. He has names now for Daddy and Arlo and his friend Selby at school and Lighting McQueen and Nemo and Dori and Thomas Train. He has new words every day. He supplies the word "feet" at the appropriate time when I sing him "Part of Your World" at bedtime. (And then he asks for "more song" and I sing him the reprise.) At our more recent trip to the zoo he said "lemur." He knows what a star fish is. I don't think I taught him that.

I am bursting with pride and happiness and gratitude and joy. Really and truly this is amazing and wonderful and I feel like we are able to know so much more of his delightful little personality now that he is able to share with us through his speech. When I think about where we are now and how far we've come I feel like a ball of energy and light. Euphoria. I can't even describe it.

We still have a ways to go but progress is being made and I couldn't be happier.

Insecurity

Most of the time I really do think I am a good mom.

Probably not the best mom of all time or anything. I lose patience, sometimes I yell, sometimes we watch Cars twice in a row because I'm exhausted and need a break, sometimes we go through the drive thru and eat french fries because why not. And none of those things make me a bad parent and I know that.

But sometimes I wonder if everything that's wrong is because of me. Not the things I did wrong, but the things I could have done that I didn't. That instead of throwing balls all the time always because that's what he wanted to do I could have been teaching him letters or colors or whatever else it is he is supposed to know by now that all the other kids somehow know by now that no one told me I was supposed to make sure he knew until he was already supposed to know. Why didn't I know? Why didn't I try to teach him even if I didn't? Does everything have to be educational?

WHY IS THIS PARENTING THING SO HARD?

It seriously leaves me feeling more vulnerable than I ever could have imagined being before.

 

Updates

Oh hey, it's been a while. Things have been good, busy, the usual.

Well not the usual because we got Tycho into school so everything is actually completely different.

That first day was really hard. Really, really hard. I was so nervous about day two, but day two was... so much better? I mean, of course it was better, it would be hard to get worse, but it was a lot better, and every day he has been at school has been a lot better than the last and he is getting the routine down much faster than I thought he would.

Still ironing out some kinks, of course. His behavior is still erratic compared to the other kids in his class, and we are maybe switching his classroom so he'll be around kids closer in age or something and blah blah blah, but we're definitely secure in the feeling that this was the right thing to do, and Boyer was the right choice for a center, and that he is going to like school.

It helped that he all at once took interest in the other kids on day three. It helped immensely with transitions that THEY were all going and WHERE are they going and I want to go TOO. Perfect. And then lots of adorable boy-hugs, which usually turn into crashing on the the ground piles of arms and legs, but who doesn't love that.

Tycho is talking up a storm all of the sudden. It's hard to know, really, if a couple weeks of school and therapy are actually making a difference, or if he's just a late bloomer and he would be all chatty right now regardless, but I don't care. It's is wonderful. He's still not like, caught up, or anything, not even close, but more and more I feel like I am actually communicating with him and he is understanding me and he can tell me what he wants and we are once in a while on the same page and it makes everything so much easier and thank goodness for that. He has all these words and he started (finally!) saying "please" instead of signing and "peese" is my favorite thing ever, and he's starting to say rudimentary sentences like "want candy" (waaan cineee) with like, verbs and stuff and omg omg omg.

I just want to squeeeeeeeeze him.

We're in!

Oh dearest blog, I am having some emotions here.

We had Tycho's group evaluation yesterday. God, yesterday seems like a million years ago. Anyway. We took him to the clinic and had Tycho play with an educator and an occupational therapist and a speech language pathologist while they asked us some questions. This was the big one, where they decided whether or not we qualified for services and I was so worried that he had picked up just enough new skills in the couple weeks since our home visit that he would still be behind but just barely not qualifying.

Well not to worry.

When they went over results with us, the therapists all spoke so softly, as if not to break our poor little parental hearts, and I almost had to laugh, because we've known we've had a problem since maybe January and I'd already gone through the whole emotional roller coaster and landed squarely in acceptance. Or so I thought.

But after we got home and I put the babe down for his nap I sat down with his results and cried. Because, I mean, look at those numbers. I knew he was behind and I was okay and I am SO excited that we're finally moving forward to get him help and get him to where he needs to be. But I hadn't really had it all quantified so neatly before me. In five out of seven categories he is in the very bottom percentile and that really shocked me and awoke my angry inner mama bear and... I don't know.

I am feeling very emotionally fragile and weepy coming out of our evaluation. Really, I'm pleased with the results. Not only does he qualify for speech and occupational therapy, but he also will get to participate in their classroom services, which I really think he will love, and I think the structured learning environment will be amazing for him, and I'm so glad we're finally getting started but I also just feel like I've had the wind knocked out of me.

Parenting is hard in a way I could never ever have imagined or prepared for.

Evaluation

Tycho had his initial assessment this morning. It went well. 

I was having stomach-churning anxiety about the whole thing. I mean, not about Tycho. He couldn't mess it up because all he had to do was be himself, but the assessment was a home visit and home visits freak me right the fuck out. I know that they are not there to judge me on whether or not there is cat hair on the couch, but still.  But our house was clean and our child as bathed and my hair was pink and I momentarily regretted not waiting until next week so that I could appear to be a responsible adult but our intake nurse was very nice and everything was fine.

Tycho was amazing. I mean, not like, advanced, because he's not and that's the whole point, but he was more or less cooperative with the assessment games. I was pleasantly surprised. There was definitely a significant chance that he would just throw a screaming tantrum throughout the entire process, so any amount of participation from him was delightful. And he didn't spend the entire time pointing at the television begging to watch Cars and making me look like an asshole who sits him in front of the tv all the time as was my fear so that was good.

The verdict? Just as we expected, he is delayed in multiple areas. He is not quite at the 25% delay cutoff for speech, though, but he will hopefully still be able to get therapy for that. We don't know yet.  This is a gazillion-step process apparently, so next we take him to the clinic for a group evaluation where all the therapists and whoever see what he can do and then they will make their official recommendations and then we get to deal with the whole insurance coverage hullabaloo, which I already know will be stupid because my insurance only covers speech therapy for children with an autism spectrum disorder and not for regular old run of the mill speech delays apparently so we will get denied and have to go through the state aid process and blah blah blah blah blah. 

Anyway. I'm have some emotions about it all right now. Maybe it's the wine talking. I am actually really pleased with today's results, they are pretty much what I expected and wanted to see but the reality of entering THE SYSTEM is settling and ack. But I'm glad to be one step closer to actually doing anything. 

Phew. 

The next phase

So, I have a two-year-old now. I've been saying I had a two year old for a couple of weeks now, because that's easier, but now, really and truly. I am trying to stop calling him a baby because he is two and he sleeps in a real bed and he eats food like a grown-ass person, and we haven't been nursing for approximately a billion years now, and even though his speech is still lacking, he often does make his opinions known and he has this little personality that is his and his alone and it is kind of amazing.

This is my favorite age ever. I know I always say that, but that is because I like him better and better the older he gets. Because he gets more and more awesome.

It's been six months, give or take a few days, but I finally got another picture of him with his birthday bear today. I stopped doing them monthly at 18 months because he just wouldn't stay in one place, and while he still changes so much so fast, it was getting harder to notice on a monthly basis. So, here he is, in all his two-year-old glory:

He's grown up a lot since last time.

His birthday was really fun. We had a non-party party. Just those closest to us over for dinner and cake and presents and vegan ice cream for this poor dairy sensitive kid. He's finally catching on to the whole presents concept. Watching his eyes almost pop out of his skull at each amazing! thing! was so much fun for me.

His special gift from Kyle and I was baseball gear. His own mitt, tee, and bat. I maybe shouldn't have been, but I was shocked how he seem to grasp the tee concept right away. Not perfectly, mind you, but the pretty basic put ball on tee, knock it off with bat was right up his chubby little alley.

He took it to bed with him that night and slept with it and we woke up in the morning to him beating down his door with it. Sigh.

TWO!!!

Dear Tycho,

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LITTLE MAN! You turned two today! I can hardly believe it!

I said I wasn't going to have a party this year, just dinner at home with family, but dinner at home with family IS a party. Grandma and Opa and tante Annika and Julien and Yoann and Anna and John and of course Shea and Ashley and your best buddy Arlo all came over to eat tacos with us and celebrate YOU. Because you're so awesome.

You loved all your presents this year. Mostly sports equipment. You're sleeping with your new baseball bat right now. I love that you've such a distinct personality. Everyone knew just what to get you!

What a two years it's been! You've changed my life totally and completely and every day it gets even better. I can't wait to see what your third year brings!

Love, Mama

Big kid, big bed

Yesterday I got up early, went to get Tycho up before he could hurl himself out of his crib again, and already when I walked in he had one leg over the rail.  Good thing I had the day off (and a couple hundred extra bucks lying around) for an emergency IKEA trip. 

Tycho wasn't super interested in bed testing or picking out sheets at the store, but after we got home and I got it assembled he was all about his big boy bed and his CARS! bedding. He jumped right in and bounced around and squealed and laughed. 

Bed time wasn't too bad. Had to go back into his room to calm him down several times, but I was expecting that with his new environs. I figured it would take a week to get him settled with a new bedtime routine, but tonight he went to sleep with no hassle whatsoever. Well then.

I just peeked in on him sleeping. He is all sprawled out across the bed like he's some kind of teenager. My mama feelings are all out of control. Baby dude turns two tomorrow (well, actually, today, but you know).  Where has all the time gone?

My Big Kid

So this morning, I'm lazing in bed and I hear Tycho start whining. I'm preparing to get up, but the whining stops. Silence. Roll over and go back to sleep. But a few minutes later I wake up again, this time to hysterical screaming. Rush into Tycho's room and... he's standing in the middle of the floor, sobbing?

It took me a minute because I was so unprepared to see him anywhere other than in his crib. But I guess he can climb out now. He wasn't hurt, I don't think, but he was probably even more freaked out than me. We're going on an emergency IKEA shopping trip in the morning.

When did he stop being a baby?

Say Cheese

The other night Tycho toddled over with my phone and handed it to me. "Peepees!" I tried to help him open one of his favorite games (Doodle Jump and Angry Birds, if you were wondering), but he just kept handing it back to me. "Peepees. Peepees!"

WHAT ARE YOU SAYING, CHILD?

After a couple minutes, I figured out that peepees is pictures. Pictures! He wants to take pictures with me!!! THE CUTE! I DIE!

And so, lately my instagram is full of Tycho-mama selfies. This is my favorite phase ever.

Grainy, but I love them.

Life's a Beach

And now for some happier things

BFF Ashley decided last week that she wanted to go to the beach. And that she wanted me to come with her. So we packed up the boys and the iPads and a hundred pounds of snacks and headed out on the 3+ hour drive to the peninsula. Ashley's aunt owns a house out in Moclips that we used as our home base for the day and got the boys some beach time.

It was Tycho's first time seeing the Pacific Ocean. It was awesome.

Delay reaction

I can't believe I haven't posted about this yet. 

Well, I can, because as a parent your ego gets all wrapped up in milestones and your kid's behavior in public and so on, and because you love him so much that all you want to do is brag about the good things and maybe vent about the hard stuff, but you keep the darkness behind closed doors because feelings. But I'm pretty sure this is why I have a blog in the first place and I have way too many feels and need to put them somewhere. 

Tycho is... behind. I've had a feeling for a while. For a long time, actually. 

I mean, as a first time mom you're always hyper aware of milestones and obsessing over whether all his activities are enriching and educational and whatever and you feel guilty if you let him watch tv and you wonder when he doesn't roll over and you gloat when he smiles at only four weeks because even though it has nothing to do with you it feels like it has everything to do with you. 

At some point I banished those weekly babycenter emails with an inbox filter and it was good for me to just focus on my kid and what he was actually doing versus what some website hypothesized. But around 18 months I peeked in that folder for the first time in ages, and... panicked. He was supposed to have all these words and he didn't, not really anyway, and and and omg. All of these emotions hit me all at once and I was a ball of anxiety. But at his 18 month checkup the doctor said he was still within the range of normal, and we should wait and see how he was doing at two. 

I did really good with the wait and see. I backed off and I stopped reading those babycenter emails and I let Tycho just be Tycho and do things on his own time and be himself and stopped worrying. Or at least I stopped letting the worrying consume me. Wait and see, wait and see.

But two is fast approaching and that anxiety and worry is creeping back in and up my shoulders and around my neck and I'm paying close attention to my friends' children near his age and its become really clear that something just isn't right. 

Tycho still doesn't talk much.  He has some words, but not a lot more than he did six months ago, and some he was using regularly are all but gone now. He doesn't use most of his signs anymore. A two word phrase? Are you crazy? Communication with him sucks, to be perfectly honest. He is frustrated and I am frustrated and there are tears on both sides. He certainly hasn't had the language explosion that everyone talks about. There are other things too. He can't jump or walk down stairs. He doesn't pretend to talk on the phone or comb his hair. He never ever draws with crayons or stacks blocks.

I know it's not autism, though. He's definitely not on the spectrum. Eye contact and baby-flirting with strangers are his specialties. So that's good, I guess. 

But still, it's so hard. It's stupid, but I just kind of assumed that Kyle and I would produce a baby super genius. And we didn't and I don't know how to deal. Every post from one of my mama friends on Facebook bragging about their children's achievements feels like a personal affront. I want to brag about my kid, too, but I can't because he should have learned to use a spoon a year ago and it's not impressive anymore. 

When I do express concern, casually, to my mom or a friend I usually get shut down.  He's fine, he's perfect. But no, he's not and I want to be taken seriously because when everyone denies the possibility that he could be delayed I feel crazy and paranoid and helpless. 

I looked at the 24 months ASQ tonight, and he's under the cutoff in all categories to be evaluated. And even though that's bad, it's good too, because its validating. We'll take him to his two year checkup and we'll get a referral for a specialist and he'll be evaluated and we'll get him into EI and we'll get help and it will be good. And I am happy about that. 

And, June.

Hey, remember how I was like May sucks and I will post more in June? And how it's June 26th and I haven't posted yet this month? Yeah, that definitely went as planned.

In fairness, life has happened, you know. The first week and a half of the month my boss was out of town on vacation so I was the big cheese at work. Two weeks with overtime and all sorts of stupid work shenanigans (burgular alarm! overnights!), and then we spent the last week on vacation with Kyle's family. So. So I've been busy. However, vacation means that I have ten bazillion lovely pictures to share with you instead of actually having to write a post with content and shit, yay!

Kyle's parents rented a condo in Steamboat Springs, Colorado and we joined them and his brothers from our various residences across the country. Neither Kyle nor I were especially enthused about the location, but I was for sure looking forward to any kind of vacation, so I decided to go in open minded... and we had a blast!

For Father's day we took a gondola ride up to the top of Mt. Werner, for the most delicious ever brunch. I gorged myself on smoked salmon lox. And mimosas. And the chocolate fountain. Amazing start to the week. I last minute decided to pack my collecting stuff, so we went on a nature walk after brunch and I got to catch some cool bugs. I actually Amazon Prime overnighted myself a butterfly net because the insect wildlife was so awesome, and I wanted to be able to do some more intense collecting later in the week.

It's been awhile since I've been so overwhelmed with the majesty of nature. Pictures can't even come close to capturing the breathtaking. Tycho loved it, too, although for his part he mostly just spent the week happily throwing rocks into the Yampa River.

Other highlights included the botanical gardens, hiking the trail at Fish Creek Falls, natural hot springs, catching ALL THE BUGS, and of course rest and relaxation. It was great for Tycho to get some face time with his grandparents and uncles, great for Kyle and I to get to slow down and enjoy each other and our family.

  

Perfect

You know what's so awesome? Seeing yourself in your child. Tonight Tycho pulled my old plant field guide out of the bookshelf and he sat on my lap and we turned the pages and looked at pictures of trees and shrubs and flowers and grasses. I love him so much.

The reason

Kyle and I were talking the other night about how crazy it is for us to have another baby. To draw out the diapers and the crying and the poop and the not sleeping for another several years right when we can finally see the light at the end of the tunnel. But we know we want two children, so we will suffer. Or something. There may have been wine involved.

Really, I'm not a baby person. I mean, I now have all sorts of squishy mama hormones giving me squishy mama feelings and sometimes I want to kidnap a friend's newborn to huff that new baby head smell, but like, babies, not my favorite. Even my own, who was clearly the most adorable perfect baby ever, bored me to tears, adorably. I never wanted babies to have babies. I wanted to have babies so one day I could have children.

Tycho is still a baby in a lot of senses. He needs help with everything, and his communication skills are barely developed. But I see now the person he is becoming, and it is AWESOME. There are still hard moments, and often, but in general every day with Tycho is better and more like what I imagined when I would daydream about parenthood. His personality is his and his alone, and we hang out and it is fun and I love him. I mean, obviously, but you know.

Some squees.

My kid is so awesome. Tonight we were driving home after I picked him up from Ashley and from the back seat I hear him shout "A BUS!" (It's all one word, though, really.) But there was no bus. Or truck or van, which in Tycho's world would also be A BUS! I asked him if he saw a bus and he just kept shouting "A BUS!" and I started laughing and so he shouted "A BUS!" again to make me laugh. Because he is delightful.

But when we got out of the car in front of our house two real buses drove past, one in each directions! "A BUS! A BUS! A BUS! MAMA!"

I just want to squeeze the poop out of him sometimes.