Celebrating Charlotte & Ruby

Keepin' On

2012-01-13T00:07:00.000-05:00

I am going to take a minute to seque over to the dogs.

We have a boxer. You might remember him - Keeper. We got Keeper to keep us safe on the park. Keeper is a little tough looking and he has one ear that stands up so he got the job done...despite being TERRIFIED of nearly EVERYTHING. Especially big men, trucks, machinery and strangers. He is, however, a sinewy muscled, masked brown dog with the inner-disposition of a curious toddler. He thinks Charlotte & Ruby are FUN and really COOL. He plays with them, without getting annoyed... he's gentle.

We knew next to nothing about Boxers when we picked him. I wanted a dog with a lab/golden personality but a pit bull/bulldog (aka serious tough dog) "look", alas: Boxer.

I wanted a well-bred specimen, because let's be honest...Boxers can be seriously ugly. There is nothing pretty about a pug-nose.

Charlotte was 18 months old when we decided on a big dog...we weren't getting a puppy. So, we researched and drove all the way out to Cha'ston and figured he'd do. Because watching him with Charlotte was like watching two little pondering, exploring friends figuring things out together. I'll never forget Charlotte & Keeper watching kittens together. He kept looking back and forth between her and the kittens, tail-wagging, fully behaved, excited and engaged. And when my dad met him he asked me if I was sure he wasn't used for dog fighting...

Good combo: kitten lover, playmate, could-be-in-dogfights "look".
We fell in love big time.

Then we noticed a hitch, then he went down and didn't want to get up.

Bilateral hip dysplasia.

Had his hips rebuilt at Auburn. Spent a month at the University recuperating. Lost twenty pounds. Temporarily lost control of his bladder because it was nicked by the epidural during the procedure. Pressing on your dog's kidney to help him empty his bladder is something you do only with a dog you plan on keeping a while. And it kind of bonds you in a way nothing else can.

Good as new.

Keeper was born & raised in the country. After we brought him home Adam tore down the old fence, had the yard re-landscaped and built a new fence, doubling the size of the backyard. Boxers are ultra high-energy; Keeper can leap 7 feet straight up in the air from a stand-still. He breaks his toe every couple of months and doesn't slow down (no, really, we have x-rays to prove it - he just limps a little and alters his running gate).

Moses, God bless him, is ten years old this month, and has moved with me eight times. And he loves the girls and the girls love him. Moses, as you know, is perfect in every way.

The girls gave Eloise a panic condition. She moved in with my parents and has been prescribed Xanax. Without it she won't drink water out of the water bowl. And I had her de-barked so many time she had to have re-constructive throat surgery so that she could breathe.

Keeper. How would he handle a move with us? How would he adjust to apartment life? Because Keep's kind of a deal breaker. We have a hell of a lot invested in this dog. Emotionally and financially, let's keep it real.

There is a dog park here, in Peachtree City. I mean a nice dog park. You walk a trial to the three-tiered dog park, and everybody is nice and courteous, dogs too...for the most part.

Mose & Keep have been about four times. All of those nice, positive experiences have done what three years of walks around Lakebottom failed to do: they've given Keeper confidence. Not all strangers want to "get" him. And he has great dog park manners. He runs and plays but isn't annoying, from what Adam & I, as humans, can discern. Keep is pretty cool, we think. Another Boxer owner did ask if he was a Boxer, though, I assume because they aren't use to seeing such a pretty one...and then there was the "mini-Boxer" comment...

Charlotte had a doctor's appointment. Mom drove over to sit with Ruby. It was the middle of the day in the middle of the week and I decided to be spontaneous. Two adults, two kids, two dogs. We've got this. Let's go to the park!

We now live in the type of town where a man leaving with a collie, turns around and walks back into the park with us so Keeper will have somebody to play with. And all is well. And my mom is perfectly content and distracted because she's found another dog lover to gab with. The girls are running and exploring and throwing the ball for the collie(?) and for Keeper(?) but keep retrieving it themselves to throw again? And the collie is gently herding them.

I am waiting for Adam to call me. Charlotte & I just left pscyhologist number 2, ADD diagnosis #2, referral for meds #2 and I desperately need to share the information to process it. Right? I'm an engager - "share" to "process". Finally he calls. I'm on the phone about 100 feet away from the girls (I needed a bit of quiet). Keeper is way off exploring the perimeter and Mose is with mom & the girls, the ball-throwing and the gentle herding.

Then I see two dogs high-tailing from the entrance gate to the middle of the park where the adirondacks and the collie, Mose, Mom the other dog lover and MY TWO LITTLE GIRLS, whom, by way of posted rules and common sense, at the dog park are: never more than an arm's reach from Adam or me. One new dog definitely has pit somewhere in the DNA and the other is a golden doodle, come to find out, but still...

My mother, God bless her sweet soul, is completely oblivious to the situation, chatting about "dog" something or other and then the pit descendent tackles Charlotte, then jumps up and runs to Ruby and is jumping, back and forth, all over them, not aggressively, I assure you, Noni would have snapped out of the chatting and drop-kicked the dog BUT STILL: all over them, WAY more than I, mom, was comfortable with. So I holler, then take off towards them - when OUT OF NOWHERE Keeper bulldozes the $h!t out of that little mutt, knocks him over on his back and pins him down. And there is, what I think was meant to be, an almost snap and definitely a growl.

Noni is snapped out of her fellow dog lover reverie to notice dog "abuse" and comes to, starts fussing at me to take control of my dog. I snicker a little, thinking, 'HELL YEAH! KEEP!' - and Moses is yapping, backing him up old man Schnauzer style...

And Keeper didn't move, didn't get off the ill-behaved, child-mannerless dog until I was there and told him it was okay (and that he was a good boy).

The collie owner left before all of the crazy went down but before he did, he shared with us that his first love has always been Boxers. He had had them his whole life. The last one passed away from a congenital heart defect and was "irreplaceable". But I learned some things while I was talking to him...mainly that Boxers are insane, crazy-hyper, on average 20 pounds more muscle than Keeper, but all heart, ALL HEART and the BEST DOGS IN THE WORLD. If you have one you understand, because it takes bringing one into your family to "get" it.

Moses is on move eight. He's my heart dog and he is ten years old today, or here 'bouts.

This is Keeper's second move. He is Charlotte's keeper and is four years old today, or close 'nuff. He walks nicely on a leash, lounges around the house and runs up the steps, down the slide of the neighborhood playground. Which we all think is pretty awesome.

We're gonna keep on keepin' on. And today is Moses' and Keeper's Birthday (observed). Bring on the homemade cake & the Boxer gas.

Lightweight Living

2012-01-07T21:00:00.000-05:00

Once I find the right window panels for our bedroom we will be officially unloaded and "moved in". I'm trying to match the queen size quilt that I gave my mom years ago, that was originally purchased when I was in college...see...along with 3/4 of all of our things, all "queen" size bed linens were stored (the ones we kept were for our pull-out sofa bed). As were our coats and my handbags, golf clubs and some other "whoops" items (see Adam? I'm still paying penance). Luckily mom had an old one she could give me along with my old bedroom furniture...not even our bed from Columbus would fit in our new room.

We were not organized when the movers hit our house - NOT READY! Adam & I were in Birmingham the weekend before the move - and when we were at the house, we were focused on Christmas (prep), Charlotte's birthday party at Monkey Joe's and getting the house in Columbus ready for the tenants. Day-before Adam dumped me at the doctor, which I guess was good because the doc said if I'd waited my 'nothing but a cough' would have turned into pneumonia...and moving with pneumonia certainly would have sucked worse than moving with bronchitis.

I was just trying to pack our BAGS to get us through the move out vs. in when the movers asked me about our storage closet, they reaffirmed that everything in it was going to the apartment, just like my husband said?

WHAT?!?! That's 200 sq ft of STORAGE. Are you loco?! Storage Unit!

Which was correct...except for those handful of useful items...like a purse & coat...

If there is anything my psyche can't handle is clutter, especially clutter in a small place.

And in the cold rain, when dead-dog tired EXHAUSTED I finally followed Adam into our new apartment where the movers had unloaded (boxes/furniture) I had my first full-blown panic attack in 8 years.

Adam yelled 'are you kidding me?!' - which helped and I cried as quietly as I could for 45 minutes.

I tried to figure it out on the drive over to mom & dad's (22 miles).

It was Charlotte's birthday. They found her a local friend and invited her over for the pizza & cake party, Gigi came with Amber & Violet. We had a lot of fun. I started to feel better.

We tried to forget everything and just enjoy Christmas. The girls were happy, which helped.

The holidays were nice, then I put all that anxiety to good use and got those boxes unloaded and turned these bland & boring 1,100 square feet into something a little more personal.

As the clutter dissipated, my brain started firing a bit more rationally and I remembered why we were doing all of this. I reminded myself why we left our beautiful home, stored our nice furniture and nice things and coats: to live light. To live simply. To be a family. To let it all go, and just be.

Charlotte was four and was suffering from anxiety. Adam's hair is falling out. I've been in therapy. Ruby still wears pull-ups. We had a lot of things on the park but what did we really have to show for it? But it's not how you feel it's what you have, right?

Wait. No, it's not.

So, here we go.

Charlotte started state-funded GA Pre-K. 7:45a-2:30p everyday. 22 kids.

LOVES it. She came home the first day and told me she had 6 best friends. When Ruby & I pulled up to pick her up, I could see her through the front windows, sitting in a circle of little girls, playing dollies - not off by herself. Charlotte was happy.

Ruby does not want to go to "school", so okay, we'll stay together all day, every day, probably our last year to do this and life is lighter now...so we're going to enjoy it. I am going to learn to shop and have fun with an almost 2 1/2 year old.

I know once we left Columbus and were completly "looped in" to Children's Healthcare of Atlanta we'd see an improvement in their medical care. I knew the Fayette County school system was great, but I have been blown away but how quickly and aggressively they have already started working to get Charlotte "caught" up. It helps that she's a kid that you fall in love with right away and her not-so-subtle "brightness" has a way of overwhelming the interaction.

When she met with her new SLP (speech language pathologist) to the most-amazing elementary school she'll be starting next year. Charly was dressed up like a cowgirl complete with a stick horse. Charlotte bulldozed into the room and found plenty to do. SLP told her she could draw with the dry erase marker in the brown square (only) - we were in the faculty conference room and there was a large, coded chart on the board. Ruby crept into Charlotte's "space", so she went to the other side of the board and drew her own brown square, then insisted on being explained to why that wasn't okay, when it was spotted. Not defiant, just curious.

When the SLP was ready for them to talk and introduce, she called Charlotte over. Charlotte wanted to know, from across the room, why it was time now to be introduced because she was in the middle of a puzzle right now and she's rather not stop until she was finished, so could we do it later?

No.

Okay. Charlotte immediately walks right into the teacher's arms, not quite a sweet, I'm going to love on you - she just immediately wanted a close-up of the lady's accessories. Which, okay, we're doing this this way, I could see it on the SLP's face. Charly zeroed in on her necklace, then the pendants and we're talking about the jewels, colors and what they felt like...no, none of them are purple - that one's too red and that one is a little too blue to be purple really...and "the earrings aren't as interesting as the necklace" and then, "I like your hair alright" amongst a dozen other seemingly random comments and, no, Charlotte was not dressed up like a cowgirl, she said, but a rodeo star, she'd win the stick horse race today at school too if she hadn't gotten that shot yesterday at the doctor in her leg but then she got to play on a cool playground AND go swimming inside with Noni and Hoppy.

The SLP said, "well, she's obviously very bright" Has she had an IQ test? She asked. Yep, she's a genius. I didn't tell her that...I'll let her be surprised by it when she reads the psych report. But apparently that's going to make this more difficult? If she was delayed cognitively she could get a whole slew of help (through the school), and because she's such a smarty Charlotte will be more frustrated by her disorder. The SLP was also taken back, again, by the severity of it, how fast she talks and how extensive her vocabulary, which makes it all that much more overwhelming, I guess.

We have got some incredible resources here. Not only do we have this amazing school system, but we have CHOA Rehabilitation right down the road.

Our family made this move to get back to where we need to be. I had no idea how much I missed Atlanta until we came home.

I am in love with Peachtree City, it's just lovely, seriously, everything is pretty. We have got to get a golf cart...

It's Beginning

2011-12-13T21:30:00.000-05:00

To feel a lot like Christmas (Charlotte is sick and I had a mini meltdown (4 in 5; 4 in 5 Christmases in the hospital)).

Deep Breath. 2011 Affirmation: We will not spend Christmas sick & in the hospital. I want to love Christmas, I DO, but it's incredibly stressful and busy and overloaded. And this year, we're moving.

We're moving. In. One. Week. It's here.

My 4 year old will turn 5 on 12-22. My youngest is not quite 2 1/2. It's Christmas and we're moving. But it could absolutely be worse. Our family will stay together, we'll be whole and complete. We will not be making two mortgage payments. Charlotte will be starting Georgia Pre-K in January and although mom is a little apprehensive, Charlotte met her new class and saw her new school and is very excited. Ruby is excited if Charlotte is excited but oh, how they will miss these hardwoods and their plasma cars (Super Wilson Sisters!) and the backyard and their sweet, sweet teachers at St. Luke. As will their mommy...

Charlotte had a CT scan at Egleston last week of her sinuses - our last big medical hurdle (fingers crossed) in preventative medicine. AND SHE WAS AWESOME! They scheduled her for a sedation appointment but she didn't need it! (Miracle.) And everything looked great!

Nurses gave her a balloon and a bear for a being a champ.

Last week: Adam had a cold; Ruby had a cold. Charlotte woke up Thursday morning feverish, miserable and coughing. Ruby had a runny nose that morning so both girls stayed home from school. Mom was here staying with us so she snuggled into bed with the girls and watched movies and I started the sorting, organizing, packing, purging.

The next day was the day of the Christmas program. Charlotte had a fever the day before and still felt miserable so she stayed home. I dressed Ruby up in her Christmas best and headed to the preschool. She cried and pleaded with me when I dropped her off but her teacher assured me Ruby would be FINE. I found my adopted "family" for preschool events and sat with them. When the curtain opened for the two year olds I had to stop myself from jumping up and shouting, 'Ruby! Hey Ruby! Mommy's here!!!' I didn't want to distract her - but I saw her looking out at all of those faces...

As soon as they were finishing up that last song I let her know I was 'here! over here!'

Ruby let me know right away she was hungry and somebody had mentioned "cake" to her.

So we had some of Baby Jesus' birthday cake and then I found all Charlotte's friends' parents to let them know her birthday party, which was suppose to be the next day, had to be postponed a week because she was sick.

Mom left later that afternoon. Two hours before Adam made it home from Atlanta Charlotte's fever rose and she started screaming about her ear. I mean, really SCREAMING. Scared me. It's been a while since she's been sick. I kicked into action mode. Acute care was open until 10pm. Ruby was asleep; I managed to pacify Charlotte until Adam made it home. Then we headed to the doctor. I was convinced that I heard wheezing. Apparently, I did not. She had a red ear full of puss but her lungs were FINE. She was "moving" air - there was no constriction...that he could hear. I said, 'no, no, no, you don't understand...she's probably too tight to wheeze'. He took my hands and assured me that her lungs sounded good, really good. We got home, late, and Ruby and Adam were in our bed watching 'Rango' and eating boiled peanuts. It's a party when daddy gets home.

Wow. It is awesome having a kid with normal lungs! Thank God for these medicines and good doctors.

And Ruby is great. She's sweet and healthy. I mean, she gets "just colds" all the time! Which, well, you know, when you're use to "worst case" lots of colds are great.

They're back at school this week for their last full-week of school.

Charlotte & Ruby are best friends. Oh, it's so precious! I mean they bicker too, but they love to be together. Earlier they were playing in a pretty solid fort they've made. They had princess flashlights, snakes, lizards and frogs (plastic). And they're whispering to each other and laughing. Ruby calls her sister "my Charlotte".

Ruby went to her first movie at the theatre on Sunday. And we made it through! She was very excited about all the butter popcorn and all the reese cups. She only had one major meltdown: when Adam stopped her from eating popcorn off the floor. He managed to run her out while she was still taking her big deep breath before the big scream. Then they were back in and we finished 'Arthur Christmas' - I mean neither girl really ever "SAT DOWN" but we finished the movie without anyone "shhhing" us.

We got Charlotte's official report back from the psychologist two weeks ago, which stated that Charlotte is showing the beginning signs of "Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder, Inattentive Type" - or ADD. We suspected she might, but then we thought we were in the "clear" during the feedback session. Makes sense though. I'm glad to know...now we can start helping her. No medication! She'll be starting play therapy/behavior modification in January.

So, yeah, and we're moving and it's busy. And we're all feeling the pressure.

Charlotte gives great hugs and Ruby tells me she missed me, and she loves me, over and over throughout the day. Ruby also follows directions and behaves most of the time. Charlotte is an amazing child, but a little exhausting. A child that's easily distratracted...especially in a house full of boxes.

But at least we aren't in the hospital.

A Time to Give Thanks

2011-11-28T11:52:00.002-05:00

I GIVE THANKS: A year that has made me thankful for the simple things.

I GIVE THANKS: The things that are hard to remember when the going gets tough.

I GIVE THANKS: A happy and healthy family.

I GIVE THANKS: The ability to provide the essentials: love, food, warmth, stability.

I GIVE THANKS: The opportunity to be a student of life.

I GIVE THANKS: My parents, who give me what I give my children.

I GIVE THANKS: A loving and supportive husband who is a true partner in life.

I GIVE THANKS: The pieces that have fallen into place for our December move.

With Meaning

2011-11-15T21:28:00.000-05:00

I write because it helps me reflect on the stories that we live. I share a lot...sometimes to the shock of family and to the vexatiousness of friends - I know acquaintances love it.  But I do it because the more people that I open up to feel a connection with, the more compassionate I become. The more meaning we make in our lives, the more meaningfully we live.

This blog usually reflects not typical milestones of my life, but the tone of it. What we, as a family, have been feeling and experiencing.

When I think back over the last several months I remember how frantic and stressed, overwhelmed and annoyed I've felt. I've been scowling over the smallest things, screaming over the larger ones.

We all do it. The "broken" shower stall, the muddy prints on the clean tile, brownie batter eaten and not baked, asthma & allergies, temper tantrums, mispronunciations, moving. It's all relative, I suppose.

"I had an awful day..."
...we say it all the time. When nothing awful has happened at all.

They are the things we beg for when the really awful things happen.

My best friend's dad passed away last week. Which in and of itself is devastating...but this was made all the worse because she lost her mom 13 years ago.

Big Jack was loved by everybody that knew him, someone you felt lucky to know. His son gave an experienced and perfect eulogy to him. In it he talked about how much his mother believed in his dad and in turn, how much his dad believed in his children. But even as a friend of his daughter's I felt that...He believed in all of them, he did, but I felt that he believed in me and I felt loved by him - never judged. I could take anything to him and his opinion of me wouldn't change. He would have bailed me out of jail and then called my dad for me. I feel certain of that. I don't know how many times in high school I would talk to him about things that were bothering me...how "unfair" my parents were, when I couldn't talk to them - because they were my parents. He would help me with my perspective...which was usually the same as mom & dad's but he did it in a pretty clever way. Eventhough he didn't "agree" with me (especially about me saying "no" to UGA)...I always felt like he was on my "side". Occasionally over the years, even as an adult, I took some pretty heavy stuff to him...and he was always supportive...in a cool way. And he would give advice that didn't make me feel like I was being "told" what to do. That's a pretty special thing. I appreciated him, and I trusted him.

My friend's dad was loved by my family.  He was honest and smart and funny as hell; with a big smile on his face and an equally big hug. He was a great big "oak tree" for his family and "his roots ran deep".  Maybe he delievered his children to a point in their lives when he knew that they would be okay... and now he's with his wife again.

If I lost a parent it would break me. If I lost them both I don't know how I would survive. My dad's boating accident (in part) catapulted me into therapy! It gave me nightmares for weeks.  When you have parents that love you and believe in you, you know you'll never be alone. You feel like you can do anything because they believe you can. They're a sounding board and a compass and constant encouragement and support. Forget that they help you move and paint and babysit...which we can almost take for granted on the simple days.

My friend is strong and smart, brave and admirable. My life is infinitely richer because she and her family have been a part of it.

But sitting with my friend, holding her new baby, I had nothing to say. Because there isn't anything to say. Except that I know she will survive...because she's done it before...which is the unfairest of all.

I went home and I held my girls. When I woke up the next morning, I wanted them with me. And I wanted to be with my friend.

I have been struggling with my anxiety for months, in therapy, indulging my woes.

Those struggles...the worries...they've vanished. That sounds flippant. But really. We played in leaves this afternoon, Charlotte skipped school yesterday, and we have made time to tickle and laugh. When they climbed into bed with us early this morning, way before it was time to get up, Adam & I snuggled up with them, instead of ordering them back to their room.

I called my therapist yesterday and told her I really didn't need to come this week. I don't have anything I need to talk about anymore. I went ahead and cancelled next week too.

All of those things seem so "quaint" now. The massive fallout with a sibling, a terrible accident, long hours at work, gaining 20 pounds, relocating, the housing market, debt...

When tragedy strikes you wonder: would it have helped if we could have seen it coming? If we had known that those were the best moments of our lives...

Big Jack always has helped me with my perspective.

Feedback

2011-11-05T10:35:00.000-04:00

We had our feedback session with the child psychologist on Halloween. I was more afraid going in to that appointment than I was of any scary movie or trick-or-treating.

Of course, we had a "Cinderella" carved pumpkin, and we only watched 'Spooky Buddies' (the series movie with the golden retriever pups?)...I had high hopes of enjoying 'Casper' but after Charlotte's 7 mini-breakdowns in 'Milo & Otis' the week before thought better of it...So, not spooky and the only house that we visited that looked like it might produce a "scare" merely waved 'hello' at our little girls (I was back on the sidewalk - decidedly not risking it).

But I was scared going into that psychologist's office, and not because he was wearing a skeleton shirt.

The psychologist was going to tell us something profound...that I was sure of. Maybe even life-changing.

And it was. And then I had a mini-breakdown...and it had nothing to do with a kitten and a pug pup, dropped in a box, a float down a river and a snowstorm.

While instituting the evaluation, an IQ test runs congruent throughout the exam. That IQ score determines what should be the median line, what everything else is based off of.

So, the good news? The exceptional but kind of scary news? Charlotte has superior intelligence, which is the highest category there is. She has an IQ of 144 (genius, yes, I just typed genius, is 145) and he asked her repeatedly if she was "trying her hardest". She even told him when he asked her where milk came from, that milk came from (mama) wolves (for all her babies). And at the time, I was really embarrassed, because, everybody is suppose to just know that milk comes from cows. But you know, I'm no genius. I only heard "wolves". A lot of the testing was grouping these really odd groups of objects and then puzzles, and everything was timed. Charlotte did all of the grouping so fast that I thought she was just playing a game with this really fun guy. Wow.

So, Charlotte is brilliant.

However! The unfortunate news: everything else (ie. attention span, conceptualizing, expression, etc) is high average, her only one average: language. He was not referring to her speech (disorder) only her language. I served as her interpreter during the eval. Which means: CHARLOTTE HAS DIFFICULTY COMMUNICATE HER THOUGHTS AND IDEAS. She communicates as an "average" preschooler, not even, really, because she can be very hard to understand, so people are treating her as much "less" than she is AND THAT IS WHAT SHE IS RISING TO. Anyways, "high average" seems good...but apparently it's "not" because she is a "superior" child. I just got a chill...I'm so proud. We've got to engage! engage! engage! Not let her retreat into her little world, but pull her out of it and then make her talk about it.

And Charlotte is, understandably, very frustrated. Her anxiety level is high. Along with her brilliant mind, she is very sensitive and aware of what is going on around her, the feelings of others and she is INTERNALIZING ALL OF IT. Life is crazy for us right now. We are undergoing "two of the three most stressful events" in life. Re-locating/Move/Change in Job. "Stress" and "Nervous Energy" just kind of hang around and haunt the house. We need Ghostbusters...

No parent wants to hear that their child is suffering from anxiety. Much less, their 4 year old.

I made it to the car before I broke down, but I did break down.

You need water to grow, right?

I had no idea that Charlotte was feeling as angry and as frustrated as she was. I hoped that the emotional outbursts were just that...and that there wasn't a deeper meaning there. But we knew something was going on. The psychologist has recommended as much speech therapy as we can possibly get her. Speech therapy from the best (which is part of our move) we're looking to accomodate and accelerate as much of that as possible. People judge you first on how you look, second on how you sound. Charlotte is as cute as a button; but technically speaking, her articulation puts her on a 'less than two year old' level but she has a BRILLIANT mind. Her teacher was worried Charlotte might need to repeat preschool. She was thrilled to get the psychologist's feedback and realizes now that Charlotte needs a little bit more in the way of an interpreter and that she needs to be pushed harder, encouraged more - that "energy" everybody was so worried about, is because she isn't being challenged. She's bored.

And, obviously, she does not have ADD. She is just a bright and inquisitive child that is easily distracted and intrigued by the world around her and her caregivers need to encourage her experience in it.

But I also feel a little brave, and proud of us. Because how many people put themselves out there and ask to be criticized? Pay a professional to evaluate their child and the job they're doing as that child's parents.

And we did that.

God put our family together for a reason. He choose me as her mom and Adam as her dad because we are exactly who she needs.
ALLERGY TEST! Charlotte finally had her allergy test. She's allergic to cats and pollen. Awesome. No, really, I'm just incredibly thankful it wasn't dust, dogs and cotton. When she was finished she asked if she could do it again...because it "tickled".

Giving-Taking

2011-10-27T16:58:00.000-04:00

We've been able to breathe a bit this week. It might be because I made the decision Friday night that I'm moving with the girls over the Christmas holidays. It was made with a heavy heart...but as soon as I made it...I was relieved.

When I think back on the last 3 1/2 years I'm overwhelmed with how much has happened and I feel happy and content and lucky. It also seems like Adam has been at work this whole time. He's been busting his tail to provide for this family and to do a good job, to the best of his ability, for a great purpose. We believe in what he does. Adam plays small...but he's built some incredible buildings at Fort Benning, for our troops, for our country and our freedom, that will provide for 1,000's and be around for decades. The other wives know...we sometimes feel like construction widows...but we're proud, of them and of ourselves and of our families.

Adam, especially, has worked himself nearly to death the past 15 months. And we've only had three vacations. That might sound snotty, but our vacations are times to re-connect and bond...there hasn't been the time this year. We don't usually get Adam for the whole weekend, and we don't see him until "after" dinner, he's gone before we wake up, when he's home, he tries, but he's stressed. We've finally almost made it to the end of this monster challenge...now he's being transferrred. But...the job he's going to...should be better and more fully staffed...so if Adam's going to have an "easier" year, a year where he's getting home for dinner...we don't want to miss an evening of it. So...on we go...

Last time I wrote, I was half-in/half-out of my mind with worry...it's kind of the culmination of all of it - but what I was choosing to focus on was Charlotte's speech. Last week I headed up to metro Atlanta to check out a public elementary school and a Montessori school. On my way, I talked to a bestie, whom I tend to treat as an expert on most things, and she told me some key points to focus on with the counselor and speech parthologist.

I really liked the school, liked the counselor, liked the speech pathologist - and they re-affirmed what my friend said. Speech will be provided for Charlotte three times a week (as her current IEP (Individualized Education Plan) calls for), they'll also put her in a class with a teacher that's more highly suited to children with speech "issues". Really...it feels pretty awesome to have an IEP. All of her needs will be provided for and if I don't like , I just call a meeting with the teacher/counselor/psychologist/speech pathologist. Yay 'No Child Left Behind'.

I cancelled with the Montessori school. I knew I would LOVE IT, but I already liked the public elementary school, felt good and it doesn't cost two times my mortgage. Plus, all of my teaching friends and family have pretty much "x'ed" the child-led learning, free-reign approach to education...and I trust them.

It feels good and I feel optimistic.

Charlotte got a parakeet. Her name is Belle. Actually, her name is "Charlotte Ruba Belle Cinderella Wilson". She's a sweet bird, or maybe just terrified, she tolerates a lot. Big sis decided on Friday, because we'd had her almost a week, that it was time for her to come out of her cage. Belle was being too slow about climbing onto Char's finger so she reached into Belle's cage and pulled her out by her tail. Tail feathers fluttered down. I was outside playing with Ruby. The backdoor wasn't shut all the way. I climbed down the "rock wall" and walked inside to check on things. Walked in and Belle is waddling around on the kitchen rug, Charlotte giggling, squealing and right behind her. <BOOM> flashback to Hanama, bird from hell, I'm barefoot, so immediatly turn to run back out the door. Then I remember, Belle is just a little parakeet and she won't go after my toes. Grow up mom. Go back inside and help get the bird in her cage, and for the love of God, don't let the dog in.

I had a parakeet when I was a little girl. I loved her. Her name was Scarlett (ummm...) She got on my finger and her cage was by the kitchen table. One night she fell off her perch. Dead. Then, 1 year later, I was chased and harassed and terrorized by a "hand-raised" BLUE JAY that somehow escaped back into the wild? (WTH) but was lost and found me and my mom. And he wouldn't get away from me!!! I've been terrified, then nervous, now apprehensive around birds ever since...well, that and, again, the parrot from hell that was like my mom's little conscience or something...always on her shoulder...squawking

I thought I had matured past all of that until Belle was on the floor. Running from Charlotte. I'm telling Charlotte, calmly (yay) to go get the bird. Bird ends up under the laundry sorter, then behind the washing machine. Calmness is gone. I'm screaming and jumping around now because I'm pretty sure she is going to get electrocuted and that will totally ruin Friday night. Deep breath. Pull out the washing machine. Talk nicely. Slowly move your hand down and nudge her belly...

NOPE! Can't do it! $h!t. Okay, tell Charly to do it. She does. Belle bites the (speaking of $h!t) out of her and she starts screaming and I start screaming. Well, now I'm really not picking up the bird. Okay - shake her off Char. Good. No blood. Not even an indention. Okay. Net! My parents had a net! Or was that for the fish aquarium? Okay. Whatever. Shoo'ed her out with the net then put the laundry basket down on her. Called Adam.

Ruby came in.

'Hello Bird!' and 'I wanna hold dey!' Finally, 'tickle, tickle, tickle! Ha! that's funny mom!'

Adam's home! Saves the day, everybody's hero. He even screamed when the bird bit him, you know, just to let Charly know that even superhero's scream.

Speaking of which, "Super Sisters!" have invaded the Wilson household for Halloween.

Charlotte wanted to be a frog for Halloween, I talked her out of it, I know ya'll think I'm mean, but all the other girls in the class, aside from her bestie who was 'Soul Surfer', were princess-y - VERY. Charlotte wants to be the frog? Which would have meant Ruby was a frog because the only way she was putting on a costume that would be decidedly "TOO TIGHT" was if Charlotte did it first and showed her it was fun. Their towels double as super-hero capes every time they get out of the bath. Decision made.

And they were cute! And they felt powerful and strong. Their class Halloween parties were today which always gets me in the mood for Halloween. We'll be home for the holiday...bring on the Lakebottom trick or treaters!

Shine On

2011-10-19T19:10:00.000-04:00

I've been preoccupied. We've been busy, sure, and having fun, lots. But I haven't sat down to write: to recount the state fair, the zoo, field trips, Pa's 85th birthday party, haircuts, our sleep-over in the assisted living center (!) - because I've been too distracted.

It's not the move, it's not living apart from Adam, it's kindergarten.

Kindergarten. Something that's new and fun and magical. That which is usually taken for granted.

Not by me, not by this family.

Charlotte has been having problems in preschool. She's sweet and obedient, bright and joyful, curious and inquisitive. Our little girl has great ideas and interesting perspectives...but she can't communicate them.

I've been going through all of these forms and questionnaires for the psychologist - what keeps coming up, over and over again, is her speech. LANGUAGE BARRIER. FAILURE TO COMMUNICATE.

When Charlotte was evaluated a year ago for speech therapy, she could articulate 14 of 65 possible sound combinations, which put her on a less than 2 year old level. The testing that went along with that, found her to have an extensive vocabulary and " average to above average" intelligence - everything else was fine, fine motor, gross motor, attention, empathy, she's no where on the "spectrum", all was "normal" including her hearing, rudimentary though the tests were.

Hell. How did this happen? When I told the doctor she wasn't really talking at 2, she shrugged, 'don't worry! all kids are different'. Then at 3, 3 1/2, the same thing: 'relax mom'. And I didn't push it, I wanted to believe her. It wasn't until we unintentionally switched doctors within the practice while we were in the hospital did someone finally say: "NO, this is not alright." She was almost four. And so we started speech therapy, and she has been going twice a week, every week. She's "almost mastered" "F" - which is the first sound we started working on. "Y" and "K" have been introduced but they're still a struggle. The "F" sound still isn't a part of her conversational speech.

We hoped that what the doctor said was true, most kids overcome articulation difficulties with time, like a normal two year old is hard for anybody other than mom & dad to understand, but by four, that same child is decipherable to most people.

This hasn't happened with Charlotte.

Girls gab. Little girls, big girls, WOMEN, gab. We use language to express everything. Even play with little girls is language, dialog-based. All of this I've just blogged? I've discussed, out loud, with friends, already four times today.

'You be the big sister - you're the witch - you're the evil step-mother and we all want the baby...'

If Charlotte joins in, she does so as the baby, but she rarely joins in. She just wants to. And when she gets home from school, she'll run and play and pretend with Ruby...they understand each other. The gift of siblings, my God.

We did go to my grandpa's 85th birthday party this past weekend and sat down together for a meal. Charlotte was very poised and well-behaved at dinner (thank God - remember, we're at an assisted living center) and she wanted to tell everyone about her adventure the day before. She took a deep breath and announced that she went to the zoo. I interpreted for her. She told them about all of the animals she saw, one by one, and after every proclomation, I repeated exactly what she had just said. When we're together, I serve as her interpreter. And she can communicate. The only way the psychologist will be able to do his evaluation, is with me, in the room, interpreting. AND HE'S A CHILD EXPERT.

But everyday I send her out on her own, she doesn't have anyone to help her, it's left up to her. She smiles, and floats around, she plays by herself. She makes it work, but not with words.

Charlotte called her lead teacher the wrong name for 3 weeks, her teacher didn't notice. Literally, she called "Lyn" - "Drew" and her teacher didn't notice.

On Monday night she picked out a parakeet and named her "Belle". She was very excited to tell her class about it on Tuesday. It took her teacher's assistant four tries before she was able to understand: "I got a parakeet last night and her name is Belle!".

Think about that. If everytime you tried to tell somebody something, a new, fresh idea, you had to repeat yourself multiple times, just to be understood, how would that make you feel?

This is from the psychologist: Between the ages of 3-7 Children whom others treat affectionately tend to develop a positive sense of self. Those who are rejected, ridiculed, or ignored have a harder time seeing themselves in positive terms. The idea they form of themselves at this time will never be reversed. This is their introduction into how the rest of the world sees them. So even if Charlotte is able to articulate PERFECTLY by the age of 8, she'll still be that shy little girl that can not articulate what she wants, how she feels, what she thinks, or even the sound that "c" makes.

Right now, Charlotte is in a christian-based, loving and nurturing preschool, with small class sizes and with children she's known since she was 2. Her best friend is in her class and, really, is the only one that can understand her, and serves as her interpreter a lot. There is no way that we are sending Charlotte into a kindergarten classroom twice the size of her current class, with teachers that have four times the paperwork, when she cannot even articulate her full name. She will be left behind. She will disappear.

Children that are hearing impaired have a hard time communicating. Therefore, provisions are made, accomodations provided, an assistant, language boards, etc. Charlotte has nothing. We're moving. That's done. Charlotte will not start school next year in this community. What am I sending her into? I don't even know.

We will not set her up to fail. We will never allow her to be ridiculed or made to feel small, or less than the magnificent person God intended her to be.

So, we've reached a wall here in Columbus. The biggest obstacle we have to overcome is discovering what has caused this impairment. We'll never overcome it if we can't get to the root of it. The local audiologist has shrugged her shoulders and said, 'hearing problems?'. Okay. Well, she doesn't have a hearing aid...so what are we going to do?!?! Is her larnyx, I don't know, built right? located where it should be?! What about her tongue? Is it the right size? Is she processing correctly? She can hear high pitched tones, but what about mid tones? Something. There has got to be something more we can do.

Well, there's Emory. There's Children's Healthcare of Atlanta, and they have an incredible audiology and speech pathology department. We've just got to get in. We will - we're on our way.

Charlotte was meant to shine. That is what she is going to do.

Advocate for your children.

My Problem, Not Hers

2011-10-06T18:02:00.000-04:00

She's watching for flying squirrels

I have a pretty good hunch that our meetings with the child psychologist (consultation, evaluation, feedback) are going to end up being more about Adam & me as parents, as opposed to Charlotte. While we were sitting in the hour & a half consultation, I'm blabbering on and on and the therapist keeps nodding at me and telling me to relax and asking if we can try and stay a bit more "focused".

I'm thinking to myself: I am an idiot. Charlotte is being nothing but completely appropriate and adorable. Picking up toys before asking for new ones, following the rules, answering all of his questions honestly and openly, laughing at his magic, but completely believing it. I'm concerned about Attention Deficit Disorder for her and he's telling me to relax, calm down and stay focused. And the more we talk about Charlotte the more we realize how awesome and amazing she is.
Not only that, but when we got home from the appointment that afternoon and she asked if she could finish her worksheet she didn't get to finish in class, I said, sure. She traced and printed 40 H's/h's. Then she started spotting the letter "H/h" in magazines and asked to cut them out for her homework. Before she went to bed, she completed her "due Friday" worksheet (on Tuesday), and drew the line for her name, and printed her name.
My mom said one day it would just click. Apparently, it was the day we took her for her evaluation with the child psychologist.

Which was good. Her class took a field trip on Monday to Publix grocery store. Charlotte was bored and fidgety...but I mean, she has been to the grocery store before. I like Charlotte's teachers, and I make a pretty strong effort to get in the good graces of any teacher/coach/therapist/doctor/nurse/shoe store owner, ANYBODY whose actions or words will effect my children. So, the teacher rode with me, which gave us ample "chat" time. The teacher pointed out to me, lovingly, kindly, that the three kindergartens that Charlotte's preschool feeds, all require testing to be accepted into.

Holy cow.

Rigorous testing.

Charlotte had her fall testing on Wednesday, well, partly (it takes an hour after-school and she had speech). Thank goodness, because when I picked her up she was crying. She reached her "wall" early on and was frustrated to the point of tears.

I'm a novice but still say: "Learning should be fun!"

I'm a person that's pretty familiar with "panic". I've been like this my whole life.  Everything is a BIG DEAL. I catastrocize. I panic if there isn't something to panic about. I may be deflecting my own anxiety onto Charlotte. So what if she's "behind" her peers? She's 4. She's kind. She's bright. She's creative. She's inquisitive. She's healthy.

I messed up with speech. Let's be honest.  When her pediatrician told me at her 3 year well-child check-up that everything was "fine" and that her speech would "naturally improve over time" I should have insisted on another opinion. I took too much for granted with her health and the asthma and the bronchitis's and the pneumonia's. I should have gotten the hell out of Columbus and up to Egleston in Atlanta a year ago...I put too much faith in other people.

...so now I'm afraid of being "passive". I've got to advocate for my children. But what does Charlotte need from me now?  That's what I'm struggling with.

Discipline? More structure?

or

Patience? Encouragement?

I believe that both girls are in the best preschool in Columbus. I have invested myself into this school. I love it. But is it the wrong one for Charlotte?

It's brilliant for Ruby. Fantastic. And Charlotte loves going, her teachers greets her with a hug and a kiss and an, 'I love you' and 'here's what we're going to do today...' How much better can it get?

Maybe I'm just not handling the pressure well.

I'm pretty sure that's what we'll learn in the feedback session: Mom needs to calm ~~the f**k~~ down.

Wait, wait, wait! One more thing:

The therapist is cool. Kids love him. He does magic. Charlotte can't remember her teachers name, but she has not forgotten "Magic Kevin".

Magic Kevin's Three Rules for Parents to Live By:

(1) Never yell

(2) Never say "No"

(3) Never tell, always ask.

The first three years of Charlotte's life? That's totally what I did. Takes an insane amount of patience and people look at you like you're CRAZY. There's judgement and raised eyebrows and scoffs from everybody. Makes you doubt your methods. Then the kid goes through normal, autonomous, developing stages and starts tantruming, suddenly everybody is telling you it's because you never tell her "no"! And you believe it because it is kind of a "weird" way to "parent" and nobody else is doing it and your prone to self-doubt anyway...

These are my problems. Not hers.

When it all comes down to it...I think I'm wanting an expert with a Ph.d to tell us what to do with the move, because I have been struggling and struggling with what to do.  I want somebody to tell me, defintively, what the best decision is: move the family or don't move the family. In fact...I'm in a bit of a panic about it.

A T T E N T I O N

2011-09-29T18:23:00.000-04:00

Charlotte's preschool teacher is once again tearing her hair out. Now, you know I love her teacher, I do, and you know Charlotte loves her teacher and she's a super-sweet and well-educated grandmother. Teacher been doing this for forty years and she knows "kids".

But she's never had a "Charlotte Rose Wilson". And the teacher is getting a bit more and more desperate in our over-the-half-door mid-day pick-up chats and after-school telephone calls. On one particular morning the two of us were actually reduced to tears discussing Charlotte. And she throws out the term: "special needs" when referring to my first born.

WTF? I mean geez, it's just articulation...

And then a bit later that same day, I'm reduced to tears again while Ruby is playing on the playground at the park after our run and the enormous, "Strong Stoller Mommies" group is finished with their work-out and their kids are flooding the area, finally out of their stroller prisons, and I look particularly looney because my iPhone is in my pocket and I'm on my headphones with the miniscule microphone, blubbering and sniffling to Adam, who's on the other end of the line. Who is also like, WTF? Special Needs?!

"Charlotte is behind the other kids in the class". But it's more than that. She's progressing, but she's "behind". Well, alright, but she's highly imaginative and creative and while these other kiddos have been hunkered down, excited to color and learn about boring stuff like the "ABC's", Charlotte's created "Charlotte's World" (aptly named by her, in her honor - she doesn't want to forget what it's called) in the playroom and can and will, entertain herself for 4 hours in there. Which is a skill highly valued by, I would think, all mothers. So, there you go, all kids develop differently and at different rates. Charlotte's been developing her creativity. She'll catch up. And she can cut out an elephant...just not on the lines. But she can free that elephant from the paper. "Developmentally Appropriate" for 4? is cutting snips along the edge of a piece of paper.

First grade is now Pre-K, I'm telling you.

She does not like to color. She does not want to cut. She's bored with pasting. She'll do the worksheets but she doesn't want to follow the directions. She wants to color the "Color the hair BLACK" hair, purple because that's her favorite color. She does not want to play what the other kids (girls) are playing in class. On the playground she's playing "Animal Rescuer" and searching for baby jaguars. But she's got a following. Charlotte could care less, but everybody likes Char.

Charlotte is popular. Everybody that knows Charlotte loves Charlotte. She makes friends everywhere she goes. I mean EVERYWHERE. Every teacher at the school knows her and loves her, teachers she's never even had, first year teachers. Charlotte makes people feel good about themselves. She is an amazing child. I would adore Charlotte even if she wasn't my kid. She's cool. She's fun. She's quirky, sure, but, awesome.

The teacher cannot keep her on task. And the teacher has a very important job to do. Preparing these kiddos for KDG. And, apparently, KDG is the new first grade. They have to know 500 sight words upon graduation (ahem, from Pre-k) and Charlotte can't remember what the letter of the week is. She can remember goats and geese, goldfish, glitter and g-g-g go! but not that the actual letter of the week is "G". Charlotte also insists on writing her name from the bottom of the paper-up.

Now, I know some of you are thinking she's just being oppositional and defiant. Except she's not. She doesn't get in trouble at school, she doesn't get in trouble at home, really. It's just that, nothing is easy. I mean nothing. Food. Cleaning up. Leaving the house. Getting in the bath.

Ruby wakes up in the morning, gets out of bed and says: 'Hi mommy!' I tell her it's time to go potty and get dressed. Boom. Done. Alright, Breakfast! She's sitting at the table and she eats. Time to go pick out your socks, shoes and hairbow Ruby. Done. Find your backpack! And she's standing at the door, ready to go. Ten minutes.

I have to allow Charlotte at least an hour. And I can't give her a direction. I mean, I DO! but it falls on deaf ears. If I don't do it for her, as in get down on her level, speak directly to her, tell he to repeat back the direction and then hold her hand - it will not get done. She can go to "The Uncooperative Chair" five times, it won't make a bit of difference, she's still crying, still getting distracted, still not following "directions". And we have started the day off on a very sour note and I feel like a piece of $h!t AND we're late.

I get frustrated with her throughout the day because...she doesn't follow directions, but I swear, it's like she doesn't hear the directions. It takes her five minutes to get out of the car when we get home, because she gets distracted. FIVE MINUTES. Do you know how long five minutes is when you just want to get into the house with your arms full of stuff?! She doesn't ever go potty when she wakes up because, eventhough I remind her, she gets distracted. We have friends over that are her age and she gets hyper-focused on her play choice and ignores the friends completely, they don't exist. Friend is off, playing house with Ruby.

We won't even get into bedtime. Because, everybody is tired at bedtime (including mommy, forget dad, he's already asleep). I give Ruby a hug, a kiss, hold her and sway with her for two minutes and she's snoring like a Flintstone. Charlotte does backward flips in the bed until she just collapses with exhaustion...which might take an hour. She CANNOT be STILL.

Charlotte's teacher has considered putting her at a "desk island" and barricading her from her friends. Which, to us, seems a bit extreme for pre-k 4. We are not going to go that route. But I understand her frustration. The teacher gives the children an assignment, hands out the supplies, the children hunker down to work. Charlotte's crayons start "talking" to one another. She doesn't get finished and she has to bring it home. At home, she needs her 4 hours of play time in "Charlotte's World", and is reduced to tears over the homework. At school, Charlotte has a hard time walking down the hall. She sees people she knows, or wants to get to know, she sees artwork and she bolts out of line, forget the rest of the class. And she's always the last one to do anything, put away the toys, the books, leave music class, finish snack, start lunch, etc.

But this is the tricky part, because when you're reading this, you're thinking, "she's 4!" and if you know Charlotte, you love her, ADORE her and you're telling me to back off, leave her alone, because she's probably one of your most favorite people. Her teacher is concerned. Her teacher is proposing, already, in SEPTEMBER! a repeat of pre-k. Her teacher's aide, loves Charlotte, and can't stand to think a single negative thought about her. The directors at the school, love Charlotte and are appalled at the implied negativity. Her speech therapist is very defensive of Charlotte. She says Charlotte is a very bright, very intelligent little girl that has her own way of thinking about things and expressing herself and she thinks the teacher needs to back off, she's 4!

Charlotte is different from the other kids. Different in a way that makes her extraordinary. Truly, she dances to her own beat in front of everyone and makes you feel good about life, about yourself even! but also, in a way, that does not foster success in school...and I think that is more valued in society today...

If we had Montessori School in Columbus, we'd be okay. But we don't. And St. Luke is a fantastic school. They're building in these kids a very strong foundation for learning. It's a feeder school for the three best in the area, which is two private schools and the #1 top-ranked elementary school in Georgia. They've got an important job to do...with preschool-age kids.

So, here goes:

My Confession:

Charlotte is going to go and see a child psychologist next week. I don't know what we're dealing with exactly - but his card reads: " Specializes in ADD/ADHD, Gifted, Learning Disabilities". So, we should be pretty well covered. But what he does? That which I'm so interested in: he's going to evaluate her over a couple of sessions and explain her strengths, her weaknesses, and what type of learner she is.

My motive is to understand the way Charlotte thinks, what propels her and how to best facilitate her learning. I also need something to soothe the teacher with, we've got parent-teacher conference coming up and fall evaluations. Teach has been putting Char's eval off for last, hoping we'll move, I guess. Because, like I said, Charlotte is a sweet kid, she follows directions (after she understands FULLY their purpose) and tries her hardest. She's not a "bad" kid, and very rarely needs punishing...but we haven't even started KDG and she's in a private school - and the teacher is frustrated.

A disheartened teacher in September is never a "good" thing.

Big Lips Kiss Frogs

2011-09-19T22:35:00.000-04:00

"Fun Friday" didn't end well...actually, it ended with frogs in the bathtub, Diego in bed and cupcakes. I guess it didn't start well.

I had given up on Friday nights being super-cool and out of the ordinary because Friday seems to be the WORST night of the week for Adam, like 'stay-out-of-his-way' bad. (Do you know why? This is sad: because he won't be able to go into the office the next day...or he's not suppose to...so he's stressed out about all he "didn't get done". Rain Cloud.)

So I've decided, why should Friday suck for all of us? No more! Fridays will be fun! I, alone, am instituting "Fun Friday". Which basically means, anything goes, the girls call the shots. Last Friday? They decided they wanted a coke icee from Burger King, play time on the playground at BK, the dinosaur Diego movie, unlimited frog catching time, chocolate cupcakes with sprinkles and supper from Zaxby's. Easy enough.

We started out at the nicest Burger King I could find, with the nicest playground. The girls ran and played on the castle themed one, with fresh wood chips for about five minutes. I fussed at Charlotte to run back the way she came and help her sister around the bend. And she listened, but halway there, out of nowhere, she busted it. Big time. Screaming. I scurried and scooped, convinced she had busted out a tooth, or four once I saw all the blood smeared all over her face, her shirt and her "asthma/allergy safe" baby doll, still cradled in her arms.

We hightailed it into the restroom, where the fancy BK had no paper towels and she caught a glimpse of her blood-smeared face in the mirror and really let loose. I'm telling myself, over and over again: staycalm.staycalm.staycalm.staycalm.staycalm.staycalm. Ruby is trailing me: 'I wanna coke ice! Wanna coke ice!' I'm scannig the facilty looking for someone trustyworthy to tell me what to do. The manager approaches, while I'm asking a girl for some papertowels to absorb the blood and suggests we head to the emergency room.

SHIT.

What, for stitches? Oh God. In the lip?

I've determined all of her teeth are there. But what is causing all of the blood?

Apparently mouth injuries bleed a lot. The shoulder, and collar of my shirt is saturated in Charlotte's lip blood, all the way through to my bra.

I manage to get Charly and Ruby (less icee) into the car. She's laid out, paper towels jammed into her mouth. We're just trying to get the lip to stop bleeding.

I call Adam. "LEAVE the OFFICE NOW." I don't know what to do, and if I do have to take Charlotte to the emergency room? I don't want to do it with a tantruming toddler demanding her coke icee.

I pull over on the way home because I'm pretty sure Charlotte has gone into shock from blood loss. She may have just been tired. It had been a long day, after all, she bit her tongue and made it bleed in jumpbunch. And it was five o'clock at the end of a long week...or shock, who knows. I wasn't taking any chances. I climbed into the backseat of the car and shook her.

Adam made it home about ten minutes after we did. He saw my shirt. Charlotte was laying on the sofa, he rushed over to make sure she hadn't passed out. (An insane amount of blood, I tried to tell you).

But he did not think she needed to go to the hospital. I wasn't convinced. I was pretty sure the gash was "gaping". It stopped bleeding, though, after an hour, and according to the Acute Care nurse, that's the threshold.

Whew.

Adam sent me out to get some Ensure, for her evening meal, because surely anything else would be too painful for her too consume.

Luckily, I also got Zaxby's. And yes, some cheddar bites. Because by the time I made it back home, she was ready to chow down. The girls were also ready to make those chocolate cupcakes I promised for "Fun Friday" but before that, they went frog hunting.

Eight frogs in the critter catcher, and they're ready to bake. Cupcake batter everywhere, first batch in the oven. Mom sighs with relief. "To the tub!"

At some point, while they're in the tub, I duck out to go pull the cupcakes out of the oven. When I go back in to check on the girls ALL EIGHT FROGS ARE IN THE TUB.

Well, it was fun Friday, so I gave them a couple of minutes.

Seven survived. Ruby got really excited at one point and squeezed the guts out of one.

(Eck. I know.)

Adam thinks it's cool.

The next day Charlotte had forgotten all about her lip. We went to a birthday party. A big, fun birthday party at a reptile center...snakes, frogs, tortoises, taxidermied wildlife. The girls were thrilled. AND it was a super-hero birthday party so they also made and wore capes. Charlotte saw a little boy she thought was very handsome. She tried to kiss him within the first five minutes. For the rest of the party, everytime I looked over at her, she had him cornered, her busted lip all puckered up, ready for her kiss. I'm fussing at Charlotte to leave him alone. His mom thinks it's hilarious and is fussing at her son to at least give Charlotte a hug. He told his mom he was scared. Charlotte & Ruby pet all the snakes, and an alligator...the little boy was afraid to do that too...

On the way home I told Charlotte that kisses were very special, to be shared only when you really wanted to get to know somebody better and that the boy should try to get the kisses and the girl should be the one saying 'not right now'. Charlotte thought that was silly. That little boy was very handsome and once he kissed her, he would fall in love with her forever.

Charlotte got really excited about the alligator at the party. So excited she tackled her sister on the stage. Both my girls had balloons, grins and busted lips leaving the frog farm.

Sunday the circus came to Hampton. Mom & dad got front row seats and picked the girls up. Charlotte got to ride a camel. They both got to ride ponies. Ruby was sweet and cute and didn't have a single tantrum. Obviously, she's ready for an over-night trip.

Havin a Ball

2011-09-13T18:28:00.000-04:00

Charlotte was thrilled to go and stay with my mom & dad this past weekend. We were ~~hoping~~ wondering if Ruby would want to go and spend the night as well...but then she threw a major tantrum after they got here when it was time to change her diaper; and then another major when we picked Charlotte up from school and I made Ruby hold my hand to cross the street. I could see the anxiety mounting up in Noni's sweet face.

When we parted ways after lunch, Charlotte hopped in their car, jabbering away about maybe finding some lost baby horses on the way to Hampton that needed a home and then, 'can we stop Noni - Hoppy and get dey and bring dey home? Wha if we find five?' Mommy, I'm goin to fine five baby horses that need a mommy and I'm gonna be it and bring dey home with me forever, alwight?'

That's an easy promise to make and it makes me seem like a really cool mom. Yes Charlotte. If you find five lost baby horses running around without a mommy, you can bring them home and keep them forever. Keep a look out now! You never know when they might run by...

I asked Ruby if she wanted to go with her sister. Nope, wanted to stay with mommy. But she asked about Charlotte every 20 minutes throughout the entire weekend.

The anxiety level in the Wilson household is at CODE RED. We showed the house to a couple last week who loved it. They've lived in Columbus their whole life, and this house, our house, has always been their "dream house" Literally, they dream about it, they told us.  Sweetest couple. They were here first thing the morning after we put the sign in the yard. They fired their realtor, said they wanted to go after this one and their own...

...I cried.  Surely, we've found a buyer and now we really do have to go.

Then: Nothing. Not a peep. It's been five days.  Now I'm certain we'll be like the rest of the country and not be able to sell our house and get completely upside-down in it.  I cried.

Adam's close-out is not going well.

We had three plumbers come to the house and tell us we had a break in the line in the guest bathroom shower.  We're going to have to tear it out, jackhammer down through the concrete, follow the line, repair the break (it's on slab, not crawlspace), build it back up, re-insulate, intall backer board, tile.

Adam came home from a crazy week at the office (and at home) and took his frustration out on the guest bathroom.

By Saturday, there was a huge, gaping whole, concrete dust everywhere from jackhammering and he discovered the problem. Sure enough...Charlotte took the cap off the drain and dropped a bouncey ball down the shower and it got lodged. Water backed up and then, because the shower hadn't been properly sealed at the drain, it flooded the space between the shower pan and the concrete: dirt, mud, pebbles, so the clog and the dirt made the plumbers (3) think there was a break in the line.

Culprit

At least Charlotte was having fun with Noni & Hoppy. Mexican food, toy free-for-all at the flea market and Dixie Land! Rollercoasters, bumper boats, world's tallest slide, fireworks.

Oh yeah, Charlotte's driving!

Real Estate Agent Ange

2011-09-05T16:49:00.001-04:00

Whew. We're just about ready to get the "For Sale By Owner" sign up in the yard. After a lot of concentrated, focused, hard work. I mean, really...Adam did manage to get a bundle of home repairs done this weekend that the handyman I had out estimated to be about $1200 worth of work. Luckily, his schedule was backed up...and Adam got to it. Whew. Again.

Holy cow, this is tougher than I thought! The house has been on Zillow 3 days and we had a Buyer's Agent stop by the house this afternoon...ON A RAINY LABOR DAY! with clients in the car that were ready to see the house.

Ruby didn't have on any panties or a diaper - she did take the stamp ink pad, though, and press it 3 or 4 times to the front of her dress...and then she kissed it, I guess, because blue ink in the shape of a rectangle was all over her mouth. The play room was WRECKED, the girls lounging, watching a movie, in an ocean of 'Too Many Toys'. Adam's chowing down on lunch, in paint-splattered work clothes, dogs are out, the play drawers in the kitchen (500 Happy Meal Toys) have been dumped out onto the rug, there's DIRT, literally, in the guest bathroom shower - plainly, painfully visible. (We're getting that shower ripped out and replaced, didn't bother to scrub it after the plumber left Friday). The trim on the backdoor, the plinthe block, has been removed, Adam's rebuilding it (currently) in the carport - but presently - looks atrocious. There's tool boxes and wood putty, ladders and all sorts of stuff out everywhere. But worst of all? Frogs and bugs in multiple critter catchers in the kitchen on the floor. Keep in mind - he entered through the family room/carport door and headed straight into the kitchen (crash zone). He doesn't come in through the front door, into the formal living room, without a anything out of place (they've been trashing the back of the house), no, that would have made things a bit too easy.

I had been in the girls' room rearranging the drawers and organizing socks and panties (ironically) and I hear voices...and think, surely Adam wouldn't have [neighbor] or [friend] in the house right now...it's a disaster area...

...damage control, Ange! Go be charming and make an excuse! Oh God and it was a realtor with clients in the car.

Nope! We're not ready to show it, not until the end of the week, but come on, Adam says, take a look and describe it back to your clients. And I'm following along behind him, thinking, 'oh God, what's next? did I leave my bra out? did Charlotte flush the toilet?' frantically making excuses. I felt so vulnerable! So exposed! Welcome to selling a house FSBO.

And they're not the first ones to show up unannounced either. Again, we don't even have a sign up in the yard! The first lady just heard about our impending move from a neighbor.

Feels a little weird.

So, check out some of our hard work:

http://1454cherokee.blogspot.com/

Love and Structure

2011-08-30T17:48:00.000-04:00

Good news. We're in week 3 of pre-school and (1) Ruby hasn't been kicked out yet; (2) Charlotte can write her name all by herself (surprise mom!); (3) Charlotte 'has a little bit of difficulty following directions'.

Nervous laugher. Luckily, Charlotte has the most loving, experienced and structured teacher ever. When I picked Charly up today, she was sitting in the middle of three 48 piece puzzles. I said, 'whoa! those are some serious puzzles!' And her teacher said, 'why yes, and Charlotte got all of them started.' Notice, she didn't finish any of them, but she got all the other girls involved in working on them. Finally I saw my chance at redemption! I said, 'see, Mrs. Lyn, Charlotte is an abstract thinker - a leftie. She's really good at math...and puzzles!' Trying to redeem myself from last week when her teacher told me, 'well, it's alright! All children learn at different paces...Charlotte might just be a little bit behind the others.' ($h!t) This was after it was brought to my attention that most of the children could CUT ON THE LINES and they could spell and write their own names...CHARLOTTE is so long.

Can I shorten it to "CHAR" I asked. No.

And then there are the perfect little, follow-the-line cutters.

Charlotte is a very bright child. She is not a 'back of the class' child. She can add and subtract numbers in her head...no finger counting for this child. She just needs a little more practice. Thank you, Mrs. Lyn, for bringing it to our attention what a 4 year old is capable of. $h!t, again, geez Ange! - to myself. Thank God she's in preschool. I'm learning a lot.

Just this week, on Monday, I walked in to pick Charlotte up and she bolted for me, Normally teacher has to count to three to get Charlotte to stop what she's doing and go get her backpack an head for the door, after a hug, a kiss and an, "I love you" from her teacher. Well, this time she BOLTED for me.

Mommy! Mommy! I did go outside and wrote with chalk on the buildin!

To which I replied, 'ALRIGHT! Awesome! How cool! C for chalk! C for church!'

Mrs. Lyn sadly shook her head, no, it wasn't cool. Charlotte wrote on the building after being asked not to, after having been given directions to focus on the sidewalk only. She snuck around the building with a couple of the boys to color where they didn't think the teachers could see. But GOD (and Mrs. Lyn) see all...

It is "C" week. I'm going to score us some points by bringing in Chocolate CupCakes with "C's" on them from Charlotte dressed as Cinderella. Maybe that's overdoing it a bit...she starts her extra-curricular "jumpbunch" on Friday. Her school offers dance and an all-sports encompassing ball class. She doesn't have the patience for dance, I'm not going through that again until she's ready, she is very excited about playing ball with the boys.

In the last 7 days Charlotte has caught at least 35 frogs...all on her own. I think she's only killed four or five...She puts them through a very vigorous gymnastics/swimming/chase routine. Their training is intense...only the strongest survive. (Sorry, Mom)

Now she has a fever blister. We're hoping it is not, how should I put it, "Princess & the Frog" related?

Ruby is beautiful, brilliant and assertive. No, not assertive. She's dogmatic. When I weaned Ruby? And, yeah, I feel pretty confident in saying I will never get breast cancer. But when I finally, just cold-turkey weaned Ruby? She tantrumed for seven days, ten times a day. NOT AN EXAGGERATION. Kicked, swatted, screamed. Ruby is constantly challenging Adam and I for domination of the household. She puts up a pretty good fight too. Ruby does not need a pushover. So, you see where the difficulty lies...Luckily she's in preschool too! Structure and love. And eventhough she kicks and screams going in the door, once she's there, and I'm gone, she loves it. Runs and plays and laughs and is charming. I have the picture text in the middle of the day from the teachers to prove it.

Busy weekend. Ruby & Charlotte had to entertain themselves while Adam & I worked, yet again, on getting this beast of a house ready to list. Exterior work (Adam) - Angie SCRUBBED, cleaned out all clutter, boxed and worked on filling up a storage unit. We had a couple realtors out...Luckily, the house is "gorgeous" and "shows like a dream" and is "one of a kind". Unluckily, we bought at the sq/ft price three years ago that houses are stilll selling at today. And yes, we've put money into it. Are you kidding? It's 87 years old.

But luckily, we aren't in a rush...because this is our home. Everything this makes this home 'one-of-a-kind' in the eyes of the realtors? Stikes a played deep on my heart strings.

Plus, if we head off to Atlanta, to live in an apartment...where will Charlotte & Ruby find frogs?

SWEAT Test

2011-08-25T18:27:00.000-04:00

We did not leave our appointment with the pulmonologist, a couple of weeks ago, feeling good.

In fact, despite our foray at the Disney store, Adam and I felt sick...sick with worry.

The pulmonologist felt pretty secure in her assertion that Charlotte has transient asthma - Reactive Airway Disease; asthma that she will likely outgrow.

And for that, there are plenty of preventative medicines they can prescribe that should help in preventing every runny nose from turning into bronchitis or pneumonia. But - that didn't change the fact that Charlotte has been diagnosed with bronchitis 12 times and pneumonia 3 times within two years and she has had two hospitalizations for upper airway distress...again, in two years.

Charlotte has had three chest x-rays taken in 6 months. The doctor reviewed those. Everything looks normal except for all of the mucus plugs. Mucus plugs...

...prevalent in children with cystic fibrosis. And given Charlotte's medical history, she needed to be tested.

Cystic Fibrosis.

And all I'm thinking is, I don't remember requesting the prenatal screening for Cystic Fibrosis when I was pregnant with Charlotte...Georgia didn't start screening newborns for the disease until January 2007. Children with C.F. tend to have hive-ish rashes...Children with C.F. can have speech/articulation problems...

Panic. Sleepless nights. Crying fits while closed up in the bathroom.

Stop thinking about it, stop thinking about it! Paint! Pack! Organize the closets! Distract yourself.

We drove up to Egleston yesterday, for the test. The only definitive test for C.F. is a sweat test. People that have the disease have a higher salt content in their skin, they also have an excess amount of mucus in their lungs and digestive tracts. It wouldn't have shown up in the blood work.
Sweat test sucks. They attach electrodes to your arms, one at a time, to stimulate your muscles, and they leave them on for five minutes. Then they attach another device to your arms, wrap your arms in cellophane, dress you in a fleece-lined sweat suit and send you outside to exercise (AUGUST) for 25 minutes. Then you go back in and they collect the sweat. If there isn't enough sweat, they have to repeat it.

CHARLOTTE HATED IT. We talked about it beforehand, I told her it would tickle, I explained the process, showed her a (kind of spooky) you tube video. She was ready. It's not suppose to be painful...just uncomfortable...but to those of us with a minuscule pain tolerance, "uncomfortable" always means "painful". I also told her after the test we would head straightaway to the GA Aquarium.

Charlotte was excited about it. Then they stuck the electrode on her arm. Then the told her to go exercise, after spending a solid ten minutes screaming about the electric current being shot through her arm...she has to go outside and exercise in a sweat suit in August for twenty minutes. But I'm out there shouting orders at Adam, 'Get her off your shoulders! God, Adam. RUN! Make her chase you! HURRY! Don't head towards the shade! STAND IN THE SUN!!!'

Because if they don't collect enough sweat, they have to repeat the whole thing. I know it's August, and she's been crying and they stuck electrodes on her arms and she's in fleece and she's outside, but still, I wasn't taking any chances.

Afterwards, we headed to the aquarium. We're headed back to Egleston next Wednesday, and then we'll have at least one more appointment there, two if we're lucky - ANNUAL PASS to the aquarium. Air conditioning. Just the right size. Almost impossible to get lost. Fish. Beer in the cafeteria. I love the aquarium.

Her doctors would have the results by that afternoon. We arrived back in Columbus at 4:30. With every minute that passed I became more convinced the results would be disastrous. I called the office five times, the hospital, three. Finally, at 5:30 the nurse called. I laughed with relief, immediately, when she introduced herself. Obviously if the nurse is calling, the results are good.

And they were.

Charlotte does not have cystic fibrosis.

I welcome allergies and asthma with open arms.

Hallelujah.

First Days

2011-08-16T17:35:00.000-04:00

Charlotte's first day of preschool was Monday. She was late getting up...Ruby & I managed grocery shopping before Charlotte woke up. Adam slept in and we all tagged along as a family to see Charlotte off.

Charlotte chose her outfit: Pink. Pink bike shorts. Pink butterfly t-shirt. I convinced her that tennis shoes were not an option. She would be wearing shoes with socks, that tied. There were 6 pairs of shoes for her to try out and pick out (thanks Zappos). She didn't like any of them. So, mom choose.

Charlotte happily walked into her classroom, said hello to her teachers, hung up her backpack and lunch sack, without even a glance back over her shoulder at mom & dad, then scooted off to play.

Our preschooler came home with...homework. That she was THRILLED to pull out of her backpack and get started working on RIGHT AWAY. I was stressed out. Because Ruby wanted a turn with the glue stick and the pencil and the scissors...

Charlotte is excited about learning. REALLY EXCITED! She didn't wind down from her day until 9:30 last night.

Ruby's first day was today. She needed pockets, she insisted. It took me 10 minutes to convince her to put on a pull-up - crying that they "hurt" her. "Hurt" is her safety word, I think. If anything sad or a bit overwhelming happens she hollers "hurt me" - which usually results in a band-aid. Ruby only wants to wear panties. And she tee-tee'd in the potty at school, and was completely dry when she got home. But, you know, I'm so afraid of an accident.  Nobody wants to have the "wet pants" at school...and nobody wants to be the mom of the kid that peed her pants.

We were a little late, and I planned it that way this time, really. I wanted all the kids to be there and be settled because I knew, once Ruby walked in...things would no longer be "settled". And just as I predicted: Ruby did not go willingly. I will never get the image of Ruby's head thrown back, screaming, kicking and flailing as the teacher tries to hold and comfort her out of my head.  We walked to Charlotte to class...still heard Ruby screaming and then high-tailed it out of there.

I cried walking to the car. Adam gave me a hug, then we parted ways. I rushed home. Adam rushed to work. We have a lot to do.  Adam is being transferred to Atlanta.  It's time to sell the house. I'll move with the girls, once we sell, which could take a while, which I'm torn about. I LOVE our life here. I LOVE Charlotte & Ruby's preschool.  I love the house, I love our friends and our park and our church and our community. It's going to be rough going for a while. But Atlanta. It will be nice to head back to the big city, where our families and old friends are all spread out and only 45 traffic lights away...in any given direction.

I think we'll price it high. I'm going to drag my feet about pulling Charlotte, especially, out of school and starting her all over again somewhere else. When I picked Charlotte up from school today? She pulled me inside the classroom, the teachers raved about her sweetness and enthusiasm, they aren't having any problems understanding her (articulation/speech) or getting her to follow directions! (why am I the only one she won't listen to?!). Charlotte is surrounded by love and structure and learning and letters...It is an amazing program.

Ruby was playing when I peeked in to pick her up. Then she was crying. She cried during every transition and did NOT want to hold the rope handle crossing the street to the playground and DEMANDED that the teacher's helper hold her...a lot. But she enjoyed music! And she made a "super "R" cape" but Charlotte put it on and paraded around the church lawn with friends.

Oh, Columbus. I will miss you.

A Toy Essay

2011-08-08T18:39:00.002-04:00

Toys. Yes. Let's be distracted, for a bit from the situation at hand. Charlotte & Ruby (bless their hearts) have spent their summer inside...thank God for toys and imagination.

All of the toys I had as a child were disposed of..."donated". I don't have a single memento remaining. (The girls actually have, to play with, Adam's Care Bear, Cabbage Patch Kid, Raggedy Ann & Andy, and his toolbox) This may have something to do with why I have become a "toy hoarder".

A neurotically organized toy hoarder, but a toy hoarder none the less. Toy organizing keeps me up past midnight on more nights than one. Is it problematic? my therapist might ask...no...there's something oddly soothing about sorting and stowing little toys. Do you think this means my life is too easy? I need something BIGGER to focus on but because there isn't anything I'm obsessing over daily toy clutter? No, I don't think so. I have a sick child, an imminent "to God know's where?" move, and a husband that has been working 80/hr/wk. Toys are nice.

Charlotte and Ruby have a lot of toys. A LOT of toys. TOO MANY TOYS! Whenever we get a new, large shipment (that sounded insane, okay, Christmas or birthdays)...we donate the older ones (then Charlotte finds them and here-we-go-again)...but there are some that I doubt I'll ever be able to completely disregard. Of course, the lovies will always be here...the classic wooden toys, most Melissa & Doug (oh! I wonder if we'll have room to keep the play kitchen? table & chairs?), the over-priced but hand-painted Shleich animals...to which you already can't buy any more of. The girls hardly play with those but I like to line them up and look at them. They make me feel rich.

Charlotte has 564 Little Pet Shop animals. And she'll still manage to holler out to me, 'mom! where's the pink elephant with the green hat and blue freckle?'

And I know where it is.

Charlotte's favorite toy: "I jus wuv awhl a dey"

Ruby's favorite toy: Breyer Horses, Melissa & Doug Decorate-Your-Own Cupcakes

I hardly even remember the toys I played with as a kid. Mom - what toys were my favorite when I was a kid?

...I do, however, remember one bathtub toy distinctly. Rub-a-Dub Dog. Did you have one?! Oh, I loved mine. We also had an elephant shower head and a soft spongy polar bear faucet cover. And I think that's it. I distinctly remember my younger sister playing with washcloths and her feet...so we must have not had too many.

So, when I saw it in a vintage toy catalog I knew my girls had to have it: Rub-A-Dub Dog. Mine & Lisa's was the brown boy dog, my girls got the honey-colored, pink-hairbowed girl dog. And they love her, Ruby especially...Charlotte is a bit preoccupied with bathtub Ariel and Belle. Man...lucky...If my sister had had a bathtub barbie she might not have turned to her toes..."weewah's" she called them...

I tend to buy toys out of guilt too.

Thursday is Charlotte's appointment with the pediatric pulmonologist. I'm already having some anxiety about that one...and am planning a trip to the Disney Store or Build-a-Bear afterwards...

...I shouldn't say that though...am I the only way that feels better after purchasing something? No! I know I'm not.

Charlotte is very excited to "see a doctor that can tell me what medicine to take and what that's a picture of inside of me" - she's seen her x-rays...she says she doesn't remember drinking all that milk...and, "what are lungs?" finally, "that does not look like a heart, mom! What do you mean?!"

We all need answers.

So Thursday is the big appointment with the pediatric pulmonologist. Wish us luck.

...it's a gorilla. the sticker on Ruby is a mountain gorilla.

What a good dog we have. And old Moses is adored by us all...what will we do if Charlotte's is allergic to dogs? I can't even go there...

...let's just think about toys.

Roo's Two!

2011-08-02T17:23:00.001-04:00

You know I love a good book party. Ruby's FAVORITE book? (At least when we started planning her second birthday party...) Eric Carle and Bill Martin's, "Brown Bear, Brown Bear". That animal-themed, colorful, repetitious childhood classic - Ruby has heard it enough to "read" it to us.

Ruby turned TWO on Saturday! We had a "Brown Bear, Brown Bear" party and celebrated with friends and family. The Wilsons love a party...and considering we've been stuck inside for the past month...and Adam has been stressed to the MAX...we needed a good time.

My biggest motivator in the party was: I WANT RUBY(!) AND CHARLOTTE AND ADAM to have a nice day. So, that meant I couldn't get "crazy-stressed". (1) I needed to let Adam work; (2) I needed to not complain about how long it was taking him to weed-eat, edge and mow (day-of-party) and just be thankful that he was doing it; (3) the girls had to think party planning was "fun" instead of "I'm-gonna-lock-you-in-this-room-so-I-can-clean-and-you-won't-get-it-dirty-immediately" kind of psychosis I tend to lean towards. I had to relax and roll with it and plan and breathe...not my natural tendency. Luckily, I've been in therapy...

That darn pre-school bunny we've had for two weeks sure was messy, GEEZ! You have to clean that cage everyday! Which means, letting her out in an enclosed space, taking it outside, cleaning out the liter and spraying it down with Clorox, drying it, then lugging it back inside to catch the bunny. And it's only that easy if (while I was outside cleaning), the girls didn't "accidentally" grab her and bring her into the playroom (where she can get behind the furniture) where Charlotte thinks Molly will enjoy the dollhouse. She's gone now, but was here for the party. Apparently, if you don't feed her anything other than her "diet" she isn't near as "messy". I saw several goldfish crackers in the cage. So, I'll back off Molly...

Ruby woke up Saturday morning and said, 'now it's my birthday?! I'm three?! No, TWO. PRESENTS!' Charlotte woke up and checked the calender (as she had been doing all week). Alright! Finally!

I made all of the kids t-shirts with animals from the book on them. Ruby's was really special, all the animals and her picture on it. She took one look at it and hit it and said, 'no' and then, 'I want a dress!'

All those years of looking at bow-heads in the hand-smocking, I never would have believed I'd have a daughter that preferred it that way...

It all kind of fell apart when Ruby only took a 30 minute nap pre-party. See, Adam took Charlotte to get cake & balloons, and to run by the job, and I was suppose to (having finished cleaning) "set" the table and prepare the food. Ruby got up too early. She spotted the cake. She climbed up on the table. Opened the lid.

Ruby Jane! What are you doing?!

(Big pouty face) 'MOM! I just want a TASTE!'

Everytime I came back into the room she was up on the table, tasting. The cake was smudged.

All of the grandparents were coming from out-of-town and they all got there early. Gigi was the first to arrive. It seemed like it'd been forever since we'd seen each other, so we had a ton of gabbing and catching up to do. And I got distracted. Then somebody else came and somebody else. And it wasn't done. I mean, once mom & dad got there and I focused long enough to realize that there was still a ton of prep to do I set mom to work! And all of grandmothers joined in to help her. Yay Grandma's!

I was so excited, and laughing and chatting and being distracted that I never picked up the camera. During the whole party, I didn't pick up the camera. Now that I think about it...I'm not sure if Charlotte even brushed her hair on Saturday...

Somehow the cake ended up in the living room. As excited as Ruby started off, she was feeling a little apprehensive in the beginning. It really wasn't until we brought out the cake (and somehow the cake ended up in the living room) and kids started shouting for "presents!" and she warmed up and started to party.

It all felt very intimate...I had a great time, we Wilsons had a blast. You know our old house, big, boxy rooms, with pockets of cool air...people always seem to bunch up and float from room to room together - big party. We never spread out. Unless I give specific instructions to people: Group1 here, Group 2 there, Group 3, over there...we cluster. But it was fun! We had a great time.

And then afterwards, some of us grown-ups brought our beer out back, set up giant, industrial size fans and let the girls run through Ruby's new sprinkler. FOR AN HOUR, at least. Charlotte was outside for an hour (imagine), Ruby had an outdoor playmate, her best friend.

It was a super-Saturday and a fun birthday.

We love you all that made it! For all of you that weren't able to make it? We missed you, and hope to see you soon.

As a special treat:

Super Noni

2011-07-30T23:28:00.001-04:00

It just occurred to me that I have blogged much too recently to have not officially THANKED my MOTHER from the bottom of my HEART.

She always manages to save the day, or the week, whenever I need her.

And not just because she feeds the dogs and pulls the weeds and irons the clothes and waters the plants and vacuums the house and laughs and bathes the children and compliments the meals and organizes the PLAY KITCHEN
and laughs and cleans the not-even-our bunny cage and creates party decorations and sits with the girls and laughs and plays endless games of hide-n-go seek and loads the dishwasher and bathes the dog and does 17 baskets of laundry...

...but because she LISTENS.

I love you mom. And thank God for you (and dad) EVERYDAY.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

...and now Charlotte has hives

2011-07-28T19:03:00.002-04:00

"Unspecified" hives.

belly button

Charlotte stopped coughing on Tuesday. Only to wake up Wednesday with hives.

She's been sick the entire month of July and now she has hives. Adam & I had ourselves conviced that the hives were a reaction to the massive amounts of antibiotics that she's been on.

Today she had a follow-up appointment for her lungs. It was with Dr. McWhirter, her favorite, because she the doc that walks in the room and hands over her stethoscope and ear-thing to Charlotte to play with...she also paints her fingernails blue.

Charly's lungs sounded good.

The hives were worrisome. They were not "presenting" like an allergic reaction to an antibiotic.

Now we're concerned. Charlotte is bouncing around the room, snapping on gloves, examining her sister's ears, singing into the stethoscope, and the doctor is going through all of the history and asking questions (forehead furrowed), typing, typing, typing on her computer.

Right away she wants a full-blood work-up. Todayl.

"At this point", she says, "I'm concerned about an autoimmune disease or disorder".

Dr. McWhirter is afraid Charlotte has an "over-active" immune system, or a dysfunctioning one.

A friend of mine mentioned that to me this weekend.

Is something wrong with her immune system? she asked.

Oh God. I'm having a hard time managing Charlotte's pneumonia and Ruby's diarrhea. I can't even think about a chronic illness. My head will explode. Surely no.

No, I nursed her for forever. Her immune system is fine...It has be be...

But maybe not.

Pneumonia 3 times, bronchitis 12 times, in two years. And now Charlotte has hives. She's had mono. She's had strep throat. Ear infections. The MYSTERY RASH of the summer of 2008.

What is going on with our baby?

I promised Charly no shots today. But when you hear "lupus" and "leukemia" suddenly bloodwork, a needle, doesn't sound like such a big deal. In fact, thank GOD for bloodwork.

Charlotte was a CHAMPION! I was so proud of her. Ruby had to be ripped out of my arms so that I could go be with Charlotte while they drew her blood. The first doctor's appointment in four that I haven't gotten a sitter for Ruby. $h!#. When Charlotte finished I carried her out, hugging her, so proud, but she was crying because it was the "worst shot EVER!" and I promised her anything in the world she wanted at ToysRUs (please God don't let it be the Barbie jeep) and Zaxby's cheddar bites for dinner...and a chocolate cookies-n-cream Chik-fil-a milkshake...feeling a little better about myself for the "I-promise-no-shots" lie.

We're being scheduled to see a pediatric pulmonoligist in Atlanta and she's skipping over the "average" pediatric allergist and sending Charly to Egleston to have it done.

It's time for some answers.

"I know God will not give me anything I can't handle. I just wish that He didn't trust me so much."

Mother Teresa

I just compared myself to Mother Teresa. What?! Sick kids are HARD.

Pneumonia, again

2011-07-19T11:02:00.000-04:00

Charlotte was diagnosed with bronchitis and an ear infection two weeks ago. Rest, medicine and time. She seemed like she was feeling better. We went horseback riding, attended VBS and went swimming with the grandparents. She had a little bit of a cough but we thought she was doing better.

Saturday, she got out of the pool and seemed a bit run-down. Then she was "dizzy". Coughed Saturday night and Sunday. By Monday morning I had the "worry knot". Charlotte was miserable. I managed to get someone in to sit with Ruby and then I took her on into the doctor yesterday afternoon.

She never lifted her head off my shoulder and cried when the doctor came in. Normally, Charlotte runs to the doctor, especially when it's one of her favorites,to hug her and snatch her stethoscope to use as a microphone. Yesterday she cried and clung to me.

Pneumonia. Charlotte was able to move very little air on her right side. We really want to try and keep her out of the hospital. Luckily we've had adequate "on the job-training" with chest p.t., we have a nebulizer and we only live 2 miles from the hospital. At least it's just one side that's affected.

We'll see the doctor again on Thursday. We'll know then if she is going to have to be admitted. The hospital sucks. I.V.'s and needles, noise, lights - It'll be so much easier on her if she's able to stay comfortable at home.

Plus, Molly, the preschool bunny rabbit, is here and she's proving to be motivating.

A Life on Horse Back

2011-07-11T14:36:00.000-04:00

Over dinner and drinks Friday night, Adam & I decided Ruby was right...we did need to take a trip up to Rome to ride the "neighs". It was high time.

Ruby calls horses "neighs" even when I say, 'no, HORSE! Ruby wants to ride the horse'. She says, 'Ses, I ride neigh!'.

The last time we were at PJ & Kiki's farm was Thanksgiving. After Adam left work late Saturday afternoon, and I was a bit recovered from the food poisoning given to me by the shady Mexican restaurant Adam insited we try because they might have Friday night margarita specials (they didn't)...we loaded up and headed to Rome.

Five hours later: we arrived. Atlanta traffic. The girls still had to go out to the barn to tell the horses goodnight and give them a kiss. Then they wrestled with PJ.

The next morning the girls went on a long trail ride in the shade. When Charlotte was Ruby's age she loved to sit on Snickers and ride...for about 7 minutes. Then she needed off, needed a break. Not so with Ruby; she would spent the next four years on the back of a horse. Both girls rode at the same time. Charlotte on Mariah, the big pony, Ruby on Snickers, the little pony. Then they traded, then they doubled up. Walking down the lane when all of us parents and grandparents were all hot and thirsty Ruby spotted Opal and Magic. She wanted to ride those too and hurled herself out of my arms, pointing.

The sisters rode for as long as the horses and the chaperones could stand the heat. It did not end well. Meaning: Ruby was not able to spend the entire day on horseback. She sat on Mariah in the crossties and cried because she wanted to go again. Then she cried for two more hours.

If Kiki wasn't going to Lexington this week to be in a parade or compete with her Saddlebred I would have left both girls up there...

Too bad. Actually, I wanted to head to mom & dad's to go swimming after all that walking around in the sticky heat. Too bad again. Home to Columbus to begin Vacation Bible School at St. Luke. I'm working this year with Ruby's age. It is very exciting. No really. VBS=Excitement. The life of a stay-at-home mom in the summertime. I'm having fun! Getting up and dressed and organized every morning! Packing snacks! Being surrounded by happy, smiling people! Talking to grown-ups! I'm tickled...

...four more days.

Yellow Wallpaper

2011-07-07T17:06:00.000-04:00

Do you remember it? The Yellow Wallpaper, By Charlotte Perkins Gillman? I do. That gothic short story made quite the impression on me as a young adult. It's about a woman whose husband has confined her to the upstairs bedroom of a summer house. She's locked in, to "recuperate" from a "slight hysterical" tendency. Ahhh, nervous laughter, I don't know anybody like that...So, the wife is confined and then she really does go crazy, trapped in that little room with the "people crawling around" in the yellow wallpaper.

I have hardly been out of this house in a week. And I'm going a little bonkers. Charlotte randomly came down with a nasty cough and fever last Friday. The Friday before the 4th of July. So, we had to cancel all of our plans...tentative plans because Adam has been working his tail off. I think he was a little bit stressed about the long weekend to begin with...because he knew he really shouldn't be out of the office but there would be a lot of pressure from his daughters to go swimming, and pony riding...and see fireworks...and his wife would probably expect something laid back & easy that would require a lot of yardwork, grilling and planning to achieve this desired "chilled" evening of wine sipping and grilled fished in a nice & tidy backyard after the kids are asleep - believe us, that doesn't just "happen". You have to work extra hard for that "mellowed" effect.

Adam got to go to work. Then he worked from home on Monday.

The girls & I tried to watch Disney movies...again, I'm quite proud of the collection I've acquired. I little abashed actually, come to think of it...Summer time is for sprinklers and bike riding, beach trips and swimming. Only, Adam won't take any time off until Manuever Center turns over...to which, again, we're counting down the days. To which we are at 31. And Charlotte's got this choking cough and fever but "Fox & the Hound" is brilliant on Blu-Ray. Ruby is anxious to get out though, she & I play outside in the mornings and we water ourselves and the flowers in the evening.

We did have fish over the weekend. We had ribs. We drank margarits and beer. Adam worked. We hunted for fireworks on Saturday night - Adam became our hero when he found some through the woods (random) and we parked by an old field to watch them. Then we made it to "Thunder on the Hooch" and got a primo spot without having to walk too far.

The nebulizer & the chamber didn't do it for her this time. The cold of the winter, and the hot & humid of a Georgia summer can give Charlotte fits. Last summer she had pneumonia right around this time - this year it's bronchitis. I had a sitter come sit with Ruby on Tuesday and Charly & I went on in to see the doctor. On our evening wagon ride the night before, Charlotte wanted to stop at Dr. Cheek's house, her pediatrician, and our neighbor, to let her listen to her cough but she was out of town - which we discovered when we went into the office the next morning. So we saw someone else, who erred on the side of caution and prescribed less-aggressive medications but took a heavier hand in "take it easy" and "rest".

George

So, I've spent the last seven days in this house. Mom came down, to give me some company, so desperate were we girls, even, that we asked her to bring along my sister's funny little dog, that she was dogsitting. George is hilarious. He's 8 years old and still doesn't know his name. He's a loveable, adorable airhead.

We've spent a lot of time in this minty green playroom. Noni brought toys, which made her "the best NONI EVER" and then she went and bought them more toys. I think Noni got here just in time...right before the watercolor animals on the alphabet cards, up on the wall here in this room, started wandering around...

These Burdens I Love

2011-06-29T16:53:00.000-04:00

It's summer and we're right here in the thick of it all. And with the heat...we feel a little stuck, or at least, sticky. Lazy days...boring days, if you will, brimming with monotony and squealing.

Both of Adam's two jobs at Ft. Benning are nearing the end - one turns over in about 6 weeks, the other one in December. Which means lots of solution-alluding problems, lots of stress, long days, long weekends, loss of appetite and ulcers, the days are too short to get everything done but feel like they'll never end - and that's just how I feel listening to him tell me about his day. I say the only things I know to say, 'keep looking up! you'll be great! you survived the last turnover...I love you.'

Meanwhile I'm mediating squabbles over squinkies and Disney movies, hollering at the dog and ironing, or cleaning or cooking or trying to get a shower or get the girls bathed. Escaping every night after everyone is settled, tucked in and sleeping, into a book - pools and books, my two greatest joys of the summer. I'll never give up the summer reading tradition...

While stirring my sacred cup of afternoon coffee I realized, once and for all, that I love the things that chafe.

"The things that fill me with stress so total I can't remember when a block of it didn't rest on top of my heart. I love what, if broken, can't be repaired. What, if lost, can't be replaced. I love my burdens."
- Dennis Lehane (whom if you haven't read his books, you are seriously missing out.)

I am a less-than perfect woman who is in love with a less-than perfect man and we created two beautiful daughters who, we fear sometimes, may never stop talking, or squealing, or go to bed.

This husband of mine and I have built a sublimely beautiful life. I love every aspect of it, I'm in love with these burdens. I want things to stay exactly this way.

To which Adam is reading and now choking, I imagine. He's really ready for these jobs to turnover. But Adam, your burden has afforded us this amazing life...this life, that I don't ever want to change.

Happy Father's Day

2011-06-19T16:20:00.000-04:00

God took the strength of a mountain,

the majesty of a tree,

the warmth of a summer sun

and the calm of a quiet sea.

He took the generous soul of nature,

The comforting arm of night,

The wisdom of the ages,

The power of the eagle's flight.

God combined the joy of a morning in spring,

with the faith of a watermelon seed,

the patience of eternity,

and the depth of a family need.

Then God combined the qualities.

When there was nothing more to add

He knew his masterpiece was complete...

And so he called it...Dad.

-Author Unknown

We love you Daddy! We love you Hoppy! We love you PJ!

Happy Father's Day.

S W I M

2011-06-13T19:29:00.001-04:00

When Charlotte was a wee one she & I did the swim & splash, sing & laugh mommy & me swim class. It was fun. Which is what I wanted. Fun in the pool. Charlotte enjoyed sloshing around and chasing squirt toys. She was always comfortable in the water. I read about Infant Swim Rescue (ISR) and saw youtube videos of babies falling in the pool and saving themselves. Amazing. Intense. I called an instructor. She discerned, just from talking to me on the telephone, that I would not be okay with witnessing the lessons of ISR. "This is no joke", she told me, "these are life-saving skills, there is no splashing and singing". Nervous laughter from me.

We just sang and splashed. I was diligent and neurotic around pools. Because a child can drown in two minutes of unsupervision.

Floats. Floats. Floats.

And Charlotte loved the water. Then I found the bathing suit with the built in inner-tube (thank you Kmart).

This summer...Charlotte outgrew it. That's how we knew it was time. Thought we'd pass it down to Ruby. She's so aggressive in the water, she topples herself over and is upside-down in it. Roo wants to swim. Not in a float, really in the water, but when she does - she sinks and when you hold her, she hits you.

We signed Charly up for group swim lessons at Chattahoochee Scuba. She had her evaluation and they placed her, quite appropriately, in the pre-school group swim. Qualifications? Comfortable in the water, blowing bubbles, floating...Meanwhile, while Charlotte's qualifying around in the water, Ruby is having an all out hissy fit to get away from me and into the water with Charlotte.

Adam had a great idea: sign Charlotte up for a time slot with a simultaneous parent-child class so Ruby can learn to swim too! We were sure Roo would be diving by the end or at least doing those cool ISR underwater rolls...

Class 1: Chaos. Three classes in the pool, two private lessons. Charlotte heads off with her class, Ruby gets into the pool with Adam. Immediately upset because she isn't with her sister. And, never the rule-follower, she doesn't want to do what the instructor is instructing, she wants to do what she wants to do. Mommy is watching from the air-conditioned observation room because the indoor pool room is just too crazy-hot if you aren't in the pool, sauna hot...relief-to-go-outside-hot.
Ten minutes later: miscommunication between Adam and the teacher: Ruby is dropped and she sinks. The teacher pulls her out of the water and it's all over. She screams and throws punches for the next 20 minutes. Adam eventually gives up, gets out and tries to calm her down. No use. By the end of Charlotte's class, Ruby is sitting next to me with her feet in the pool (success, I think) then, 'tomorrow is another day, she'll be back, she'll be happy'.

Didn't happen. We didn't even make three minutes of class and she was hyperventilating. The teacher says she thinks having her in the water in the class setting is doing more harm than good. She suggests we pull her out.

By day 4? Ruby won't even go into the pool room to watch Charlotte swim.

Charlotte's teacher is a young guy, who compliments her tutu/princess/ultra "girlie" bathing suit at the beginning of class each day and holds her hand. Coach walks a tight line. He pushes her, without over-pushing her. She trusts him. When Charly first started she didn't want to be splashed and she didn't want to go under and she didn't want to swim without "holding" on. Now she goes under happily and loves holding on to the edge of the pool and kicking with all her might (still bending those knees though). Jumping-in is still a little daunting. Charly's the only one in the class that is still apprehensive about jumping in. A couple of the kids run, jump and swim underwater all the way to the steps. Charlotte is the only one that needs to hold hands as she jumps in. But by Thursday last week, she was excited to hold only one of her Coach's hands, with her nose in the other hand, as oppossed to the first night when she insisted on sitting down before splashing in.
Charlotte is so proud of herself. This has been HUGE for her self-esteem. Because swimming was something that excited her but filled her with anxiety at the same time. Overcoming this fear, going underwater, again and again, jumping in, splashing, she feels really good about it.

Now we've just got to make it fun for Ruby.

Ruby learned something in that one swim class though. Because on Friday when we headed to mom & dad's to swim she followed Charlotte right down the steps and into the pool. Mom was sweeping, dad was in the pool testing the water and I ran down to the pool shed for a float (to help make swimming more "fun!"). Ever diligent, made it back up to the pool in time to see Ruby follow Charlotte off the steps and into deep water. I saw her treading, I started shouting at daddy, 'Ruby! Ruby! GET RUBY!' and then she sunk. Popi saw her sink and pulled her out. She was alright. Excited to be back above water and she was looking for Charshe - who was swimming around, oblivious to the excitement...lots of kicking going on.

Ever diligent. I have nightmares about pools and little ones. Because if you let yourself think about it? It's terrifying. I hold tight to the belief that I have control over everything. If I do everything just right...everyone will always be safe & well. (It's my fantasty and I'm holding to it.)

Charlotte discovered goggles and the miracle of seeing underwater. Then it was over and over and over again and she was so proud. And she jumped into Adam's arms into the pool twice. Success. And Ruby had fun in the water.

This week starts "Princess Camp" at the dance studio. Oh, the fun. Every morning we dress up like a princess, well, I don't... I put Ruby in her Snow White dress this morning. She started shouting "off! off! too tight!!!" before I even had it velcroed. Then she ran to get her kitty cat costume. That was embarrassing while we were out running errands after dropping off big sis.

And, yes, we're still swimming. We're hoping that by the end of the summer, Charlotte is jumping in and swimming, head down, to the steps. But you know what - as long as she has fun - we're happy...and diligent.

Hakuna Matata!

2011-06-07T10:25:00.000-04:00

Frog

The first week of summer vacation we got busy with something to do. We took a trip to Tennessee to see the great-grandparents. The girls are so sweet, so affectionate and precious. They were never shy, only warm to these precious people that they don't get to see very often. Charlotte spoke slowly and tried to articulate. Ruby let them hold her Handy Manny doll, both girls shared their amphibian toys.

Grandma made a ham dinner with baked beans and mashed potatoes, onion shrimp salad. Both girls sat through the meal, CHARLOTTE CLEANED HER PLATE! Pa fed Ruby a bite of onion shrimp salad...she politely found a place to spit it out.

We three girls made it home on Friday in time for me to panic about the amount of things to do before Charlotte's dress rehearsal for her dance recital. We managed to kind of get her hair fixed (I bribed her with a bowl of chocolate ice cream) but she refused all makeup. They wanted me to put her hair in a bun. Uh-huh. Little Charshe with her short, wide bangs and chin-length bob. "Use bobby pins and aquanet and mousse and a hair net and an artificial hair piece". I managed to get it slicked back in a headband. Then I hotglued her hair accessory to it. And I felt good about it! When she wasn't looking I smeared some red lipstick on her. Char screamed, and started licking her lips. Now she has a red mouth. Oh well. Off to the Springer!

Very excited. Very theatrical.

Dress Rehearsal.

The Springer Opera House is amazing. Truth be told, the reason I went with the dance studio we went with was because (a) I knew they put on good shows; (b) they put on those shows at the Springer.

We went upstairs to the dressing room! Wow. With all the big mirrors and lightbulb lights. We got ready again. I wiped that lipstick off her chin. Then the mothers marched the girls downstairs to line them up, and get them in their order and their was a person in charge with a clipboard and an earpiece barking orders. All of it seemed a bit intense to me. The noise, the lights, "QUIET!" being barked every 30 seconds, the anticipation. I didn't know how I'd get through the real performance without a Valium.

Charlotte LOVED it - kept telling me to "go get a good seat mom!".

I cried when she danced her first number. She was thrilled to be up on the stage. After she danced I brought her into the audience for a bit to watch a couple more numbers. Then it was time for a "hair" and "costume" change. Charlotte's hair stayed the same, but she put on her big tutu.

I cried the next afternoon. The stress was getting to me. It's been a while since I've dealt with any stress outside of cooking dinner and managing toy brawls. How in the world do all of these kids handle the stress of recital day?! No worries: problem free, philosophy. Completely enjoying all of the moments of the day. I've got to be more like that.

Charlotte's grandparents - Noni, Popi, Gigi were there and her much-adored cousin. It was a magical day. One, I know, I'll never forget.

Now let me pull out my calendar here to see what else we've done.

It's too hot to go outside. I will never get use to this Columbus heat. It's the hottest place we've ever lived...and we've lived at the beach and in Savannah.

We have been accumulating quite the Disney DVD collection. When we went to Disney in February I came back talkinga bout how exhausting it was. And it was but - something about seeing the Walt Disney World/Magic Kingdom/Cinderella Castle insignia before every disney movie reminds me of the "magic" and makes us want to go back. So, yep, Walt, it's doing exactly what it's suppose to. I'm falling victim. We've watched lots of princess movies, but none can top "Snow White"; Ruby loves Snow White. Charlotte is mesmerized with "Lion King". Now she "knows" what Africa is. (Throat Clears.) And big sis wants to go to Africa.

I'm thinking that's not too bad of an idea. I've been itchy for an adventure.

I settled for painting. First, the dining room. Now it is a respectable "Relaxed Khaki", one shade darker than the kitchen walls, now it looks like real grown-ups live here. And I love it! Then I needed to paint the short corridor off the dining room, to our bedroom (grey-blue) and to the living room (deep sage/cream trim). As you read...that blue made it especially tricky to pick a color to tie into them all. Once again, Pottery Barn led me astray, and convinced me that a coral-peach was the perfect choice.

I should have known when I was at the paint store picking up my gallon (my fav of the three I tried out on the walls) when the paint man asked me if my husband knew I was painting something peach. Well no, in fact, he did not. He was fishing in Panama. Charlotte told me she didn't like it. They suggested purple.

It felt like you were walking into the middle of a really ripe peach - which was as unpleasant as it sounded. So, I repainted it the same day - well, that night. To my fall-back pale greenish/greyish. Still wasn't sure. So I went antique'ing and found the perfect wall hanging. Done.

The girls ate lots of pop-ice, destroyed the playroom and watched hours of...well, "Snow White". All went well, unless Ruby tried to take one of Charlotte's 175 Squinkies - then there was screaming and crying and Ruby running through the house laughing because now Charty was out of her "world" and chasing her.

Yes. We grew this tomato

They were afraid I was going to make them eat it.

We started swim lessons last night. Charlotte in the pre-school class, where she's the youngest and the littlest and Ruby in the parent and child class. Ruby did not want to "follow directions" - she wanted to do what she wanted to do which was whatever nobody else was doing. Then she sunk, miscommunication between teacher and parent, and it was all over. Out of the pool. She decided she was content just watching her big sis. We were really bummed - frustrated with Roo's class, because she loved getting into the pool and would get so excited whenever she saw one.

Charlotte did great. She trusted her teacher, said "yes" to trying everything he asked of her, went under, and jumped in at the end of class! She leaned over, like she was going to dive, grabbed her teacher's shoulders and then jumped in, but still jumped in. We were so proud of her, and she was so proud of herself.

There's nothing better for a child's self-confidence than conquering something they're afraid of, something they believe they can't do. We've been going to speech therapy for months and her "F" is getting much better and we've started the "K" sound. Nothing has been as good for her self-esteem as jumping in that pool. Even dancing on the stage, she knew she could do that - I was the nervous one.

Here's hoping swim class today is a better day for Ruby. Hakuna Matata!

Rock With You!

2011-05-31T10:20:00.001-04:00

Charlotte's Dance Recital

Springer Opera House

May 28, 2011

All I Ever Wanted

2011-05-20T19:45:00.001-04:00

The last day of school was today. And it's been creeping up on me all week. It hit me like a punch to the stomach. Deep breath. Don't cry. Evening comes, sitting on the terraced steps of the backyard: a warm, rich feeling. All is right.

Next year, I don't know where we'll be. That's the truth of it all. Because, right now, there's a very good chance we'll be moving in August or moving in November/December...during the holidays. You know how it is. My God. And I so love our life here.

I don't know if next year Charlotte will have her graduation "tea" at her current school, then come home, here to our home, and play for the summer. A summer filled with a purple plastice elephant pool, caladiums and lots of ferns, trips to the park, buckets of pop-ice and bubbles, princess camp, speech where's it been tried and true, swimming at Noni & Hoppy's...pony rides, play dates, Lakebottom and then we're ready for kindergarten...if we were going to stay in Columbus, it would be private school. She would go with the majority of the children she's grown up with into St. Luke School.

And life would go on at the park. Ruby would go through the preschool, with our friends, with families we know, with teachers we love. Ruby would have dance, and swim and soccer and tennis and whatever her heart desired. She'd have playdates with the siblings of Charlotte's friends. Adam would continue working 12 miles from home. We'd meet for lunch and I'd ride out to the job...for whatever reason, to say hello. Our yard would mature. The fruits of our labor would unfold...all around us.

Keeper would be brave on walks. Our dear neighbors would watch our girls grow up. A sense of community. We have it here. We are fully entrenched in Columbus, Georgia.

I love our life. I LOVE our LIFE. I wouldn't change a thing about it. Not a thing. Except, I might pause it, here, right now, the girls are on a "date" with their daddy to McDonald's. I vacuumed and tidied with my ipod in my pocket and my earbuds in.

Both girls are already my big girls. Well, when I snuggle Ruby she still tells me she's mommy's baby. I can't believe Charlotte will be in preschool 5 days a week next year. And Ruby will be going to Mommy's Morning Out. My heart hurts. This time has been the best time of my life. What in the world will I do with myself next year? Be there. Be involved. Help the teachers. Serve on the board. Run. Yoga! I am looking forward to more yoga...

Motherhood is all I ever wanted. I'm fulfilled.

I have two brilliant, talented, gorgeous, kind and amazing daughters. My husband is my best friend.

And that...all of that...will go with me wherever we go.

Oh Mother, I heart thou

2011-05-15T19:41:00.001-04:00

"Arts in the Park" was today at Lakebottom. Walked across the street with the girls in the wagon to ride ponies and see clowns, pet some baby animals...oh, and look at art from local artists. I don't know. Does it get any better than that? Ponies right off your front porch? I guess it could get better than that...they could be there everyday but then we might have horseflies or something...I'll settle for this...and the knowledge that the girls have a really handsome pony at PJ & Kiki's house.

Speaking of handsome! Charlotte came home from school on Friday announcing her marriage to...the "handsomest" boy in class. I played along.

Angie/Mom: Charlotte if you get married you won't be able to live her anymore! And we will miss you terribly! You can't get married yet!

Charlotte: MOM! You can come and visit me every once in a while. Don't be so dramatic. I'm ready for that white, fancy dress.

One more week of school! Then all the sleeping in, lazy mornings we can hope for...Charlotte wakes up whenever she wants to, wanders into the playroom, sets up a "world", or more accurately, starts back playing with the "world" from yesterday (and the day before that) for hours and hours. Ruby heads outside to play or sits in on Charlotte's world and mom enjoys some summer reading. Hmmm...This might be day 1. She'll be bored by day 2 and telling me so. Every activity I suggest Charlotte will whine because it will undoubtedly involve getting her shoes on. Ruby will already have her shoes on and she'll be jumping up and down, or galloping around the room hollering,'go bye bye!'

We'll have speech and swimming lessons, tennis clinics (I hope, I hope)...Adam took the girls on a date night last week. Then to the sporting goods store. I was hoping he'd pick Charlotte out a tennis racket. They came home with a baseball glove and mitt. Ruby wants to wear the mitt like a hat and Charlotte keeps asking me to throw the ball with her. Now what am I suppose to do with a baseball? I don't know how to throw the darn thing much less teach her how to catch with it. No idea. Do you hold it up or down? Do you throw the ball with the mitt or is that solely for catching? Camp. We have several camps lined up. Ruby's coming with us to VBS this year too! So excited. I'm going to volunteer with the younger kids so she can be in my "class". Princess camp is in June. Charlotte gets to dress up like a princess every day and dance and have tea parties. She's excited. I'm dreading the drop-off because Ruby is going to hissy fit every morning "Charshe" goes into dance school dressed like a princess and she can't go with her. That's where we are with school. Ruby cries for Charlotte when we drop her off and then she asks after her the whole time we're running errands. We do a lot of shopping together...Roo loves to shop! But she wants to know where Char Char is and when we're going to get her.

I'm excited about summer. I'm shocked that next year Charlotte will be in 5-day a week preschool and Ruby will be starting Mommy's Morning Out. My babies are gone! I've got a toddler and a preschooler. My heart hurts a little. I've got a knot in my stomach. But I'm so proud of our girls. They're amazing. We're thriving...so happy...the 4 of us. Two kids. Two adults. One-on-one. Seems like a good number for this family. I've got friends having babies every which a way. That's good. I'll be able to hold and squeeze and love on some little bity's then hand them back to the mommies.

I had a great Mother's Day. We went to Hampton last Saturday night, mom and dad kept the girls - swimming, trampolining, and pizza. I got to see mom for Mother's Day, which was nice - not only is she my mom but she's one of my best friends too. She prepared a meal with daddy's instructions (sling) and I baked a red velvet pound cake with cream cheese icing...and Charlotte like it! What a gift... Adam and I had a date night.

Adam got me an iphone which I probably wouldn't have picked out myself because the data plans are expensive and the phones are expensive and I don't need an iphone but MAN IT IS AWESOME and as soon as I had it and spent 5 minutes with it, I knew I was totally worth it. Adam helped the girls make me a pillow case with their hands and feet in the shape of a butterfly and it said, "Sweet Dreams". OH! I loved it! They also made me a t-shirt covered in their hand prints. So, yeah, when I put it on I have little hands all over my boobs which is how I feel most of the time anyway. Yes! To all you wondering, I am still proudly nursing Ruby, I tried to wean her at 18 months but it didn't go over too well. Charlotte was a lot easier to wean but I nursed her until she was two. I know ya'll think I'm nuts BUT here are some big reason why I'm still a bf'ing momma:

In the second year (12-23 months), 448 mL of breastmilk provides:

•29% of energy requirements

•43% of protein requirements

•36% of calcium requirements

•75% of vitamin A requirements

•76% of folate requirements

•94% of vitamin B12 requirements

•60% of vitamin C requirements

--Dewey 2001

The American Academy of Family Physicians notes that children weaned before two years of age are at increased risk of illness (AAFP 2001).
Nursing toddlers between the ages of 16 and 30 months have been found to have fewer illnesses and illnesses of shorter duration than their non-nursing peers (Gulick 1986).
Extensive research on the relationship between cognitive achievement (IQ scores, grades in school) and breastfeeding has shown the greatest gains for those children breastfed the longest.

"Meeting a child's dependency needs is the key to helping that child achieve independence. And children outgrow these needs according to their own unique timetable." - big one for us, because she's just not ready to be weaned, and I don't mind...I'm reading a book and she's nursing and it's quiet and it's easy.
Children who achieve independence at their own pace are more secure in that independence then children forced into independence prematurely.
A US Surgeon General has stated that it is a lucky baby who continues to nurse until age two. (Novello 1990)

The World Health Organization emphasizes the importance of nursing up to two years of age or beyond to greater reduce the risk of cancer: (WHO 1992, WHO 2002).

•Breastfeeding reduces the risk of breast cancer by 94% (References)*. I had a grandmother die of breast cancer and I'm a cancer survivor. This (*) is a big deal.

•Breastfeeding reduces the risk of ovarian cancer (References).
•Breastfeeding reduces the risk of uterine cancer (References).
•Breastfeeding reduces the risk of endometrial cancer (References).
•Breastfeeding protects against osteoporosis.

The most fascinating studies show that the longer and more frequently a mom nurses her baby, the smarter her child is likely to become. The brain grows more during the first two years of life than any other time, nearly tripling in size from birth to two years of age. It's clearly a crucial time for brain development, and the intellectual advantage breastfed babies enjoy is attributed to the "smart fats" unique to mom's breast milk (namely, omega-3 fatty acid, also known as DHA). From head to toe, babies who breastfeed for extended periods of time are healthier overall. --Sears 2008
(see http://www.kellymom.com/)

And yeah, it gets her to sleep quick and easy. And I can eat a bag of rolos everyday and drink coffee with lots and lots of creamer and stay a size two.

So I thought the t-shirt with the hands all over the chest quite apropos. Of course Adam didn't want to get "in trouble" so he helped the girls create the art on a "small, fitted t-shirt" one I definitely won't be able to fit into once Ruby's weaned.

We met Gigi yesterday in Warm Springs to eat lunch at Bulloch House and then tour the fish hatchery. Adam spent the day before bass fishing a stocked and managed pond and probably caught 250 large mouth - so he was looking for bass everywhere...the turtle pond, the carp pond, seeing if there were any in there with the goldfish...I think he spotted one in with the gar...

I didn't know you could eat bass. I'm leary of any fish not sold at Publix but Adam was offering to cook Friday night and I certainly wasn't going to turn that offer down. While he was cooking Charlotte & Ruby were out frog hunting. I cannot believe I have two little girls that catch and play with frogs. I can't help it...I still scream every time Charlotte surprises me with one.

I had a great Mother's Day. I am loved. Wife. Mother. Daughter. Friend.

By Anna Quindlen, Newsweek Columnist and Author

2011-05-08T10:14:00.001-04:00

"All my babies are gone now. I say this not in sorrow, but in disbelief.

I take great satisfaction in what I have today: three almost-adults, two taller than I am, one closing in fast. Three people who read the same books I do and have learned not to be afraid of disagreeing with me in their opinion of them, who sometimes tell vulgar jokes that make me laugh until I choke and cry, who need razor blades and shower gel and privacy, who want to keep their doors closed more than I like.

Who, miraculously, go to the bathroom, zip up their jackets and move food from plate to mouth all by themselves.

Like the trick soap I bought for the bathroom with a rubber ducky at its center, the baby is buried deep within each, barely discernible except through the unreliable haze of the past.

Everything in all the books I once poured over is finished for me now. Penelope Leach, T. Berry Brazelton, Dr. Spock. The ones on sibling rivalry and sleeping through the night and early-childhood education - all grown obsolete. Along with Goodnight Moon and Where the Wild Things Are, they are battered, spotted, well used. But I suspect that if you flipped the pages dust would rise like memories. What those books taught me, finally, and what the women on the playground taught me, and the well-meaning relations - what they taught me, was that they couldn't really teach me very much at all.

Raising children is presented at first as a true-false test, then becomes multiple choice, until finally, far along, you realize that it is an endless essay.

No one knows anything. One child responds well to positive reinforcement, another can be managed only with a stern voice and a timeout. One child is toilet trained at 3, his sibling at 2.

When my first child was born, parents were told to put baby to bed on his belly so that he would not choke on his own spit-up. By the time my last arrived, babies were put down on their backs because of research on sudden infant death syndrome. To a new parent, this ever-shifting certainty is terrifying, and then soothing.

Eventually you must learn to trust yourself. Eventually the research will follow. I remember 15 years ago poring over one of Dr. Brazelton's wonderful books on child development, in which he describes three different sorts of infants: average, quiet, and active. I was looking for a sub-quiet codicil for an 18-month old who did not walk. Was there something wrong with his fat little legs? Was there something wrong with his tiny little mind? Was he developmentally delayed, physically challenged? Was I insane? Last year he went to China. Next year he goes to college. He can talk just fine. He can walk, too.

Every part of raising children is humbling. Believe me, mistakes were made. They have all been enshrined in the 'Remember-When-Mom-Did' Hall of Fame. The outbursts, the temper tantrums, the bad language - mine, not theirs. (Love.) The times the baby fell off the bed. The times I arrived late for preschool pickup. The nightmare sleepover. The horrible summer camp. The day when the youngest came barreling out of the classroom with a 98 on her geography test, and I responded, 'What did you get wrong?' (She insisted I include that here.) The time I ordered food at the McDonald's drive-through speaker and then drove away without picking it up from the window. (They all insisted I include that.) I did not allow them to watch the Simpsons for the first two seasons. What was I thinking?

But the biggest mistake I made is the one that most of us make while doing this. I did not live in the moment enough. This is particularly clear now that the moment is gone, captured only in photographs. There is one picture of the three of them, sitting in the grass on a quilt in the shadow of the swing set on a summer day, ages 6, 4 and 1. And I wish I could remember what we ate, and what we talked about, and how they sounded, and how they looked when they slept that night. I wish I had not been in such a hurry to get on to the next thing: dinner, bath, book, bed. I wish I had treasured the doing a little more and the getting it done a little less. (Amen.)

Even today I'm not sure what worked and what didn't, what was me and what was simply life. When they were very small, I suppose I thought someday they would become who they were because of what I'd done. Now I suspect they simply grew into their true selves because they demanded in a thousand ways that I back off and let them be. The books said to be relaxed and I was often tense, matter-of-fact and I was sometimes over the top. And look how it all turned out. I wound up with the three people I like best in the world, who have done more than anyone to excavate my essential humanity. That's what the books never told me. I was bound and determined to learn from the experts.

It just took me a while to figure out who the experts were."
-Anna Quindlen

Happy Mother's Day.

Girl Play!

2011-05-04T19:58:00.000-04:00

Adam went away last week for FIVE NIGHTS. I panicked the week beforehand and told him I needed him to shorten his trip. Then the day before he was suppose to leave I got to thinking...Adam will be so grateful to me if I tell him to go ahead for the full five days...he'll be so appreciative and he won't complain about the amount of shopping I do while he's gone...and I'll bet he'll feel obligated to give me a girls' night out or two or three and I bet he'll take Charlotte to dance class. WORTH IT! And he deserves it.

So, eventhough the day he left I had major dental work done and was sore and numb and embarrassed to smile or even talk when his dad and his uncle showed up, I encouraged him to go. But I cried a lot, right there in front of him before he left, sobbing but telling him to go. It wasn't because it would be up to me to get both girls to bed by myself (we divide and conquer on a regular basis) and not because we live in the city - not because I was scared. I was going to miss him.

But while the boy was away - oh, the girls did play! I was determined we would shop and play and all sleep together in the big bed. Toys R Us shopping spree, dinner at Zaxby's - Charlotte's favorite. We went to Monkey Joe's and watched Snow White, I took both girls to the mall with me because they love the elevators and the cookie shop but it wasn't quite as relaxing as I was expecting. They went bananas in the shoe department at Dilliards. I was hoping to convince Charlotte she wanted some Keens - the perfect shoe for her, a summer "tennis" shoe that isn't hot. She wouldn't even try it on. Then they spotted the Fancy Nancy dresses and the fitting rooms and we actually all went in to TRY ON DRESSES. I'm still amazed I escaped that store with my sanity...we picked out cookies and while they were eating those I sneaked into Ann Taylor, so I guess the trip was a success but it was not relaxing...partly because every time I slowed the double stroller down, Char escaped. Char spotted the "bling" crocs and it was over, had to have them. I think we now have 7 pairs of Crocs in the shoe basket. I played a lot of barbies. Field Day at St. Luke was tiring, it was on Friday and I was wearing thin but then we headed to mom & dad's so I could catch a bit of a break. Charlotte has been "very worried" about her Hoppy and she was an excellent and caring nurse while we were there.

I also took advantage of Adam being away and being in Atlanta and we went to the FARMER'S MARKET! Love. We toted the wagon...not so much for the girls as to help load up the plants. Ruby did not want plants in her wagon. Noni was with me, so I had her pick out the plants I needed, ferns, hibiscus. Is it weird that one of my most favorite plants is the asparagus fern? Blame it on Savannah. I know it's an odd choice...but I love 'em.

The girls even got to see their baby cousin Evie that day. Cute.

Adam made it home Sunday morning - with PJ and Uncle Bruce. Oh it was good to see him. I even had butterflies before we pulled up! I missed him, he missed me. It made it all worth it - I think it made us appreciate each other more.

Easter Relay 2011

2011-04-25T17:04:00.002-04:00

This was our fourth Easter living in Columbus. We moved in Easter weekend three years ago. It had been our longest standing tradition, Easter with my parents and Adam's mom here at our home. We're traveling Thanksgiving, and we're going at Christmas. Easter I've gotten to host. And hosting is relaxing when compared with traveling with kids but this Easter was great. I wouldn't have traded it for anything, not even a relaxing day cooking and hosting.

Thumbs up Hoppy! Night before Surgery

Daddy survived his surgery. We didn't realize at first how much damage was done in the boating accident. Charlotte will tell you, he went to 'twee dif'n has-e-pitals' and she saw him at 'all a dey'. As it turned out, his shoulder was ripped out of joint and then (when the boat came back down after impact of hitting channel marker) slammed into his chest. His shoulder was shattered and crammed into his chest cavity, 5mm from his heart. He was 5mm away from death in the Intercoastal. A cardiathoracic surgeon removed the shoulder and then the orthopedic built him a new one. Last Wednesday was a long day. Charlotte had her egg hunt at school but I couldn't stop thinking about my dad.

I was anxious to get to Atlanta to be with my mom. Adam left work early and then we headed together, as a family, to Northside Hospital in Sandy Springs. I was able to see dad at 10pm. He was doing just fine! Not only that, but the orthopedic is writing him up for publication in a medical journal and will present his case at the next conference. That's my dad! We stayed over in a hotel and the girls were able to see him in the morning. They brought him balloons but Ruby decided at the last minute she wasn't going to give hers up. Since we were already in Atlanta, and I'm feeling elevated from dad's surgery success, I took the girls, both of them, by myself, to Zoo Atlanta. I survived.

Friday, Adam & I had a much needed date night.

Saturday, we loaded up and headed out. We were quite productive that morning. I'm still in shock over just how productive. I went to the salon early. But before that, Ruby & I baked a Pear-a-licious cake. Adam cleaned the kitchen and kept the girls. We all got bathed and dressed and packed and (prepped for Easter) then headed to, well, the shoe store, Adam was on a very particular shoe hunt. Two stores later, no shoes, we made it to Honeybaked Ham, then we made it (on time!) to Callaway Gardens for an Easter Egg Hunt. It was hot. It was not actually in the Overlook Azalea Garden so much as in a little section of cordoned off lawn but Charlotte found the prize egg in her age group so we were quite proud. She is now the proud owner of a "Critter Cage". Now I just have to buck up and help capture the critters.

Then we went to two more shoe stores and still made it to Gigi's house exactly on time! With a ham and a cake and ingredients to mix up a corn souffle. I might not have been able to host but I was still able to prepare the meal. We all had a nice, relaxing, enjoyable evening. Made even better by a visit from Charlotte's favorite cousin, Violet.

Sunday, we had breakfast and then headed to Hampton to see mom & dad. The roses were blooming and amidst them were hundreds of eggs - the girls had a ball hunting. After about an hour we made it inside. Hoppy sat with the girls while they opened up the Easter eggs. Adam, mom & I worked on our dinner. Meanwhile, Hoppy is over there overseeing their consumption of chocolate Easter candy..."Hop-Hop" only says no to the girls if their welfare is at stake, as in, if the girls run out in the street or start to climb a ladder. Otherwise, he considers it a privilege to spoil the s--- out of them. But you know, they're the sweetest girls, well, Ruby is a little bit sassy but I think she'll turn out in the end like her sister. Charlotte has been very concerned about her Hoppy's shoulder and has wanted to see him everyday since his accident. And, she was sweet and gentle and fairly quiet at the hospital...until she got a bit too excited over talk of the zoo and started bouncing around with that smiley face balloon.

We made it back to Columbus and I pulled out the basket from the bunny and hid the eggs while Adam took the girls over to the church to see the flowering cross. We toasted each other on a job well done and "sat back" or so that was the idea, and had a drink while the girls hunted.

Then we escaped the house and the chores and the toys and went to dinner. Finally, we were able to relax. Made it back out to the car...and it wouldn't start. My big ole', lumbering Sequoia was as exhausted as we were.

We need a vacation, no wait, maybe that's not such a good idea...

The Mall Easter Bunny

2011-04-14T18:06:00.000-04:00

...totally creeps me out and I don't blame Ruby one bit for not wanting to sit in his lap. Actually, I was a little uncomfortable with Charlotte sitting there...

This year, thanks to several reminders, I REMEMBERED the Easter Bunny. We needed something to fill the time between "too hot to play outside time and happy hour for mommy time" - so we settled with getting dressed up "fancy" and going to see the bunny at the mall.

It was one of our most successful mall trips. I brought along the double, eventhough we were trailed everywhere we went by a fine spray of pollen and some old oak leaves. The stoller is always outside and was on the trail at the park last night and this morning (pat on my back).

For some reason, Charlotte considers getting dressed to mean picking out dress-up clothes from her toy bin. I made her change out of the flapper/cowgirl/hula get-up but she cried over wearing something blue like Cindrella. If she couldn't wear the Cinderella dress, she was sure as shells on these seashore going to wear the same color as her heroine. She was appaled, however, when I tried to explain why she shouldn't wear her plastic pumps with the giant rhinestones and I just gave up over the butterfly wings. Once we were loaded into the car with seatbelts Charlotte remembered she forget to put on panties. REPEAT.

It was a cute set-up and both girls were excited to see the big bunny. After a little bit of convincing Ruby climbed out of the stroller to join Charlotte. Big sis ran right up and gave the bunny a hug...Ruby slowly made her way up to him, slapped him on the knee and took a couple steps back. Then she waved and said, 'HEY!'. Charlotte stood between the bunny's legs, examining his mouth, then his chest fur. I just want the whole thing over with because it's beyond creepy. I ask the mask if she can sit in his lap. The head nods. No words. Charlotte says, 'mom, this bunny sure is quiet - he doesn't say much'. To which I calmly reply, 'well honey, now you know bunnies can't talk!'

Mission accomplished. We got the pictures. No one had a melt down, including mommy. We even managed to stroll through the shoes at Dillards. All of mine are officially out of style. Nice.

Easter 2011

Beach Bums' Offspring

2011-04-11T17:22:00.001-04:00

Last year I was able to get at least one of them looking at the camera...

NIghtmare at Sea, Part 2

2011-04-10T17:38:00.000-04:00

Continued from earlier post...

We made it back to say hello to Popi at Sacred Heart Hospital in Port St. Joe. The doctors still weren't exactly sure to the extent of damages but they did ascertain that his humerus (upper arm bone) was jutting sideways into his ribs and it looked as if his shoulder joint was shattered...and moved into the soft tissue around his shoulder blades and clavicle. He was in a lot of pain. Dad put up a good front but we left him to his nurses and his pain meds pretty quickly after saying "love you".

The police and the boat captain were in the lobby of the hospital. An ambulance was on it's way to take him to Bay Medical, in Panama City, about 45 miles away.

Mom packed a bag, changed out of her bathing suit and headed after the ambulance. I'm demanding a lawyer - screaming lawsuit, the girls want Nana & Hop Hop to come home and Adam is sick with anxiety and worry, blaming himself because he takes on all the problems of the world to which I'll take this opportunity again to tell him that he wasn't the one that drove the boat into a CHANNEL MARKER IN THE MIDDLE OF THE INTERCOASTAL!

I know what ya'll are thinking - that we have the worst luck ever. It's that lava rock my parents brought back from Hawaii. There’s a legend that says Madam Pele, the Hawaiian goddess of fire who commands the volcanic action on Hawaii’s Big Island, lives in the fire pit in Halema’uma’u crater, at the summit caldera of the Kilauea volcano. Madam Pele doesn’t like to have lava rocks purloined once they have cooled and settled. It is said that anyone who removes a piece of rock from the Hawaiian Volcanoes National Park will incur her wrath. Bad luck is certain to follow. Dad mailed it back to the islands years ago but the bad luck is following us...all of us because I left Hawaii with them! We were all on the same plane! And the curse started not long after we landed in Georgia thirty years ago...

Dad had his first surgery Sunday night in Panama City. They straightened the humerus but realized they probably wouldn't be able to repair his shoulder, certainly not then, certainly it would take a big block of time
and it was already 10:30pm.

The next several days were repeats. Adam & I would get up with the girls. We were on vacation so Charlotte feasted on ice cream sandwiches, oreos or pudding, Ruby had a respectable cheese grits and scrambled eggs. Then we'd screen up and head down to the beach to play, girls are both asking for 'Nana and Hop Hop' every ten minutes. It really was beautiful where we were staying - had a real 'Old Florida' feel. No condos, just houses, so everybody is spread out. The girls ran and ran, hunted shells and splashed in the water. Charlotte pretended to be a scientist, so Ruby acted out a scientist too. Charlotte's exploration took her into the surf. Ruby did not splash; Ruby ran away from the surf. We'd come up for lunch and naps, then head to Panama to see Dad. One good thing, the new Bay Medical is a really fancey facility - nicest hospital we've been in...and ya'll know we've been in our fair share of 'em. Unfortunately, the docs were not quite up to par with the setting. (They had a sushi bar. I'm not kidding)

Bay Medical has three orthopedic surgeons. Dad saw all three. The third, and most senior, after going over daddy's charts decided Pop needed to be transferred to Atlanta - they were not going to be able to repair the shoulder. The emergent aspect of dad's injury (the humerus in the chest) had been corrected (although this doc says the correction probably did more harm than good - outstanding) and they had a two week window to reconstruct the shoulder. Dad's best bet was to head to Piedmont Hospital in Atlanta.

So, dad came back to the beach house on Wednesday - and the evening was just as it should have been every night...minus the sling and the pain meds. Fresh fish, shrimp and oysters, margarittas on the deck, listening to the waves, watching the sunset, two beautiful & happy little girls running around sharing their love with everybody.

Hoppy is scheduled for surgery at Piedmont on Wednesday. And can you believe: we're already planning our fall trip - they'll be goin' after sea trout.

We have got to figure out how to break the curse of the lava rock. Maybe it will involve a trip to Hawaii...

Nightmare at Sea, Part 1

2011-04-09T17:05:00.000-04:00

Nightmare at Sea, Part 1

Last year we went to the beach 4 or 5 times...and we learned a thing or two, like never take two toddlers to the beach without at least a couple other adult chaperons. This year, for spring break, we were going to make the Wilsons and the Bolins happy. We were going to the beach (1); we were going somewhere with decent fishing (2); and where we could rent a house (3); Noni & Popi were coming with and bringing the boat (4).

Cape San Blas, Florida! 45 miles east of crazy PCB - where you actually feel like you're getting away and back to nature: sand dunes, sunsets, no condos. I know, I know, sacrilege - Adam built the Majestic Beach Towers in PCB and then they built that other one...Palazzo? But still. The condos make me dizzy.

We're staying in a weathered beach house where the girls can run and run and I can read read read and not have to worry about them running into well, anybody! The drive down should have taken 4 hours. Well, antebellum days in Eufala costs us 3 hours. Seriously? For some hoops skirts and parasols? Let me tell you. With a toddler that refuses to sit contentedly in her car seat, despite the vast movie selection & playing, despite the snacks, it's a nightmare. We did a lot of driving on the "vacation" - she was equally as charming every ride. As long as Adam had his sunflower seeds he was alright but my hair has sufficiently more grey in it.

Our first official day started off beautifully. The guys left early for a chartered fishing trip. Daddy brought his boat- (okay, let's see if I get this right) the water was stocked - we had pompano, mackerel, red fish, the cobia were running, I give up, lots of fish - and the waters where we were staying were “brimming” with them. Before Adam and daddy took off on their own, they wanted a guide to show them around - and they wanted to plot the points in their GPS.

They had a big day - they chased and caught them all - Adam in the tower shouting which direction to head. Daddy caught the biggest Spanish mackerel. The captain was a retired Ph.d, and his boat was appropriately named Ag Doc; a fisherman with a brain, or so we thought. Dad hit it off with him immediately. And he let them plot his points.

Meanwhile, mom and I, the perfect team with the girls, are enjoying a beautiful day on the beach. Charlotte doesn't care what the water temperature is - she's running, splashing, jumping, investigating seashells, desperate to see evidence of a sea turtle, her new passion. Ruby is right behind her. But not about going into the water. Ruby went to the beach a ton last summer. But she was seeing it with new eyes this year. When we first walked out onto the beach, said, ‘whoa, what’s that?’ Too big! Ruby loved the sand, and the shells, and digging and the sea foam but when the waves rushed up to her tootsies, she ran the other direction. Like a sandpiper.

The guys were due back in at the marina around 2pm. We decided we’d take the girls to the pirate ship playground at the docks and let them welcome Adam, Popi, and all the fish. Cell phones hardly pick up in this quiet town. We sat around in the sun waiting. I’m checking the time every so often – (1) because I’m impatient; (2) because I haven’t reapplied the SPF 50 lotion on the girls…trying to figure how much time I have left in that “50” window. We see a boat, with a tower, with a tall, skinny guy. Looks a lot like Adam but there are only two men on board. Couldn’t be them, I say to mom, there’s only two people on that boat. Fully trying to convince myself that no, that couldn’t possibly be my husband because if it is my husband, then their fishing trip was not a success, not a success at all, something is very wrong because my father is not with him on that boat.

The boat pulls up to the dock, Adam jumps out, holding his rods and his bag. He marches toward me with his head down. ‘There’s been an accident’, he says, ‘your dad’s in the hospital…come one, let’s go’

They had a good morning at sea. Met the guide at the dock early, launched, it was real foggy…trolled for Spanish mackerel till the fog lifted, probably caught 10, Pop caught the two biggest. Then they went out to a channel, trolled deeper water on the way out from the bay to the gulf. Got out into the gulf, worked the beach line for pompano. Then they saw a humongous cobia, as big as my hubby – bigger than 6 feet. Popi hollered for Adam to get up in the site tower and cast – they stalked the cobia, lost him but spotted school of redfish. Lost cobia. Decided to head back into the bay, wind had picked up, wind was real choppy. Putted through the bay to get to the channel, the canal to the intercoastal to fish for flounder. Fished for flounder and stripped bass. After that, packed up, headed in. Headed under the bridge, into a no wake zone, out of the no wake zone, into the bay, throttled up, got the boat on plane and the captain was talking to daddy, wind was blowing real hard. The captain wasn’t paying attention, drifted off course and hit a red channel marker buoy. Dad was on the starboard side, holding onto the t-top. Captain hit on the starboard side, boat rocked violently to the left, and jerked daddy’s shoulder out of socket. When the weight redistributed it rocked violently to the right and came back, shattered daddy’s shoulder and knocked him overboard…into the channel. He’s plunged to sea with a wasted, obliterated shoulder. A boat full of fisherman saw the whole thing happened and called 911 immediately. Adam was in the stern, plotting GPS points, the captin yelled, Adam ducked and was thrown into the sidewall. After the impact, Adam stood up and realized Popi was gone, looked back, saw daddy in the water (IN THE DEEP WATER! AHHH! IN THE MIDDLE OF THE CHANNEL!) and told the captain to turn around. They went to go get dad out of the water, dad said his arm was broken. There was no way to get him back on the boat in the channel. Two other boats saw what happened and drove up. One guy jumped onto their boat, and together, he and Adam drug Popi through the channel, back towards shallow water. When they got into shallow water, Adam and a couple of other guys, jumped into the water to help get Popi out and onto the swim deck of another boat. The boat brought dad to a fueling station where the ambulance was waiting.

We headed to the local hospital with Adam. The police met us there. Mom has on her bathing suit with a sheer cover-up, Adam smells like fish and salt water, I’m greasier than I’ve ever been in my life, the girls are covered in chocolate and coke – all waiting to see Hoppy.

TO BE CONTINUED.

Ruby Follows.

2011-04-01T19:32:00.000-04:00

Charlotte puts a toy horse on her head. Ruby follows.

I'm telling you, a sibling is the greatest gift you can give a child. And one of these days, it will not be such blatant emulation and sweetness. I'm going to pull up this post to remind the girls how special "sisters" are.

Charlotte runs through the library atrium in rubber rain boots on the wrong feet. Ruby follows.

Charlotte walks the plank to the turtle sandbox and jumps in. Ruby follows.

Charlotte selects a blue bath fizz tablet to turn the bath water blue. Ruby follows. Then they choose purple.

Charlotte wants to go on a wagon ride to find Leroy and the other neighborhood rescue cats. Ruby follows.

Charlotte picks out a vintage pink, tulle tutu dress with lime green leggings. Ruby follows.

Charlotte swings in the big girl swing, higher, higher! Ruby follows.

Charlotte dances around the kitchen to 'The Little Mermaid', Part of Your World. Ruby follows.

Charlotte practices saying "Fffffrog' and "EeeYyes"! Ruby follows.

Charlie lays down with Keeper. Ruby follows.

Charlotte" talks" on the phone to Sally. Ruby follows.

Charlotte eats brownies for breakfast. Ruby follows.

Charlotte finishes the words to "Goodnight Moon". Ruby follows.

Charlotte lines up after dance class for a dum-dum sucker reward. Ruby follows.

Charlotte buckles up. Ruby follows.

Charlotte overturns landscape bricks on a worm hunt. Ruby follows.

Charlotte goes on a frog scavenge. Ruby follows.

Charlotte cleans up strawberry shortcake and Littlest Pet Shop toys, kind of. Ruby follows, kind of.

Charlotte straps on her school backpack. Ruby follows.

Charlotte pushes her babies in a stroller and tries to make it around the block before getting in trouble. Ruby follows.

Charlotte teaches Keeper fancy moves. Ruby follows.

Charlotte asks for a mozzarella string cheese snack. Ruby follows.

Charlotte will jump into the ocean tomorrow when we arrive at the beach house. Ruby will follow.

Sisters.

She is your mirror, shining back at you with a world of possibilities. She is your witness, who sees you at your worst and best, and loves you anyway. She is your partner in crime, your midnight companion, someone who knows when you are smiling, even in the dark. She is your teacher, your defense attorney, your personal press agent, even your shrink. Some days, she's the reason you wish you were an only child.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

A Camping They Did Go!

2011-03-28T10:24:00.000-04:00

Ruby Jane: Before & After

2011-03-27T09:58:00.000-04:00

Before

Ruby had her dental surgery last Friday at the hospital. We were there at 6am. Her surgery was among the first scheduled - good thing too, because she couldn't have anything to eat or drink. I was anxious, I made Adam do the dishes before we left.

Before.

They called us back to prep, we talked to the doctor, the nurses and the anasthesiologist, who reduced my fears greatly when he told me that General Anasthesia is safer than driving to the hopsital...and since we only live a mile away and never go above 40mph I felt like this was a pretty safe bet. We dressed her in her gown and waited. The nurses came and took her. She did hit them and call them naughty but they managed to gas her down before they started her IV.

After

The actual procedure lasted about an hour. We talked to the surgeon (who in this case is Ruby's dentist, Dr. Mark Lawrence). Who told us that everything went beautifully. She did end up having all four of her front four teeth drilled down, capped with white porcelain crowns and then she received four nerve treatments which is the equivalent of front baby teeth root canals; she got a small filling or two.

The doctor said that her enamel didn't form correctly in utero. Who knew? He said that during certain times in develop, if there's pressure applied in weird places (like her mouth or face), or certain medications the mom receives during certain phases of pregnancy, they don't really know what causes this enamel deficiency but it presents with the front baby teeth and after those teeth come out there are no other problems.

They called us back to recovery and we were there when she woke up. Whenever she heard Adam's voice her heart rate increased. She slowly came to and after about an hour she drank some water without throwing up so they let us take her home.

When we got home we saw that Adam's Trex bike had been stolen. Nice.

It was a quiet day. I spent the whole day in the glider reading and rocking Ruby.

Her teeth and her gums are still sensitive but it's getting better everyday.

Charlotte spent the weekend with my parents camping at the lake. To which she had the time of her life. It was so ~~relaxing~~ quiet at the house with her away. That child talks all the time...I think she even managed to surprise Noni and Hoppy with her energy and intensity and spunk. Of course they described the weekend as "magical" but they're that type of grandparent - you know, their granddaughters are the smartest, cutest, sweetest - the best little girls in the whole wide world.

After.

Charlotte was very excited about Ruby's new teeth and very proud of her little sis.

YOU DID IT ARUBA!!! HOORAY!

Char wanted to celebrate by throwing a brownie party for Roo. She helped me make brownies (she tastes every ingredient to make sure it's "alright" - you know, not too hot) then she licks the bowl just for good measure, you understand.

We put candles in the brownies and Charlotte made up a congratulatory song and sang it to her.

Just to be Clear...

2011-03-15T17:02:00.000-04:00

Charlotte & I are officially rocking Mommy & Me haircuts.

Oh, yes. We both have bobs & bangs. Which is the haircut I have wanted her to have for a while...but I was afraid it would make my 'do look "juvenille".

Charlotte was never destined for long hair. She doesn't like braids & ponytails, nor does she like brushing it...now the bob looks precious all the time. To my astonishment, her hair looks cute & sassy and mine looks suprisingly chic and it's the same haircut...amazing.

And Ruby got her bangs cut. She was looking a little too much like a Beatle with her wispy curls and her ultra-long bangs. Ruby says 'No to the Bow' just like her sissy did and no to the mini bang ponytail (which is actually flattering on few I'm afraid...) so Noni clipped her bangs for me. No pixie cut for her, Noni didn't go near the curls. They're straight enough.

Speaking of the Beatles...you know all the old footage you've seen on TV, or if you're old enough, I suppose you may have witnessed it yourself, actually
the Beatle fan mania. That's Ruby whenever someone calls on the telephone or the dogs bark or when she sees a white truck or when the door alarm chimes...because it might mean DADDY. Screaming, jumping, grabbing her hair, running in place, jumping, laughing...pure joy - pandemonium. DADDY. Then they both get on it and here comes Keeper. Daddy is a superstar in this house.

Speaking of dogs. Charlotte is at the age where she wants to take "care" of things. When she grows up she wants to be a baby doctor so she can "hole dey an love on babies and take cawe o' dey". Charlotte says when she's a mommy she's going to be the best mommy. She is going to take her baby to the 'pwaygwoun ewday and nuwse dey all de time. I guess that's all you gotta do. I think she was trying to tell me we don't go to the playground at the park near enough. We run by it regularly...but normally I trick Charlotte into forgetting her shoes so that I can say, 'oh sweetie, you forgot you shoes! we can't stop and play today!' Isn't that awful? Well, both of them together are tough to keep up with and as much as I love Lakebottom it is inner-city and this is the same massive playground that had the razor blades taped to the monkey bars and the slides...I'm afraid to let either one of them out of my sight and quite frankly, Charlotte doesn't listen to me.

Charlotte (2) & Keeper

Right. So, dogs! Charlotte wants to "baby" one...Moses has been doing an okay job as a puppy substitute. But finally, old Mo, has had enough. Two bites in three days. With any other dog, I swear, we probably would have had the thing euthanized but Moses? Well, obviously it was Charlotte's fault. And it was. Moses is old - he's 9 - that's 63 in dog years. Charlotte likes to plop on him while he's asleep. She likes to pick him up and tote him like a dolly. She likes to put him in strange places...top of the sofa...she wants him to come on all stroller rides and trips to school and she wants him to sit in her lap (Moses is too old to walk or run with us...he can only make it about a 1/4 mile before he's wore out), she wants him under the covers to rub her feet on him. In other words: he puts up with a lot. But when she rolled him over and tried to give him a raspberry on his belly he nipped her check - bruised it and broke the skin in a little dot. The blood didn't trickle but there was a puncture. The next day, he nipped her on the earlobe - no mark, just tears and a sobbing pre-schooler. The child has got to give him some space. I'm trying to aim her attention more to Keeper who thinks belly raspberries are the best and he's playful and curious without being timid or too rambunctious but he's a little too big to be carried and diapered (yes, I said diapered - I'm telling you, Moses is actually a saint).

Ruby is obsessed with going tee-tee in the potty. The only problem is that I think #1 doesn't feel funny to her - it doesn't require any "work" so she doesn't recognize the feeling...now she gets the feeling of #2 but isn't quite ready for that level of exposure on the Elmo potty. She wants to "go" like her sister and then she wants to put panties on just like her sister. Then mommy takes her potty every 30 minutes and usually 2 minutes after I get her off the potty for the 3rd 30 minute interval she wets her panties. The only time we seem to guarantee a success is when I stick her on the potty right when she wakes up or right after she gets out of the tub...Quite frankly, it's a lot of work. And she's only 19 months old. I'm thinking really, I'll just let Noni & St. Luke Mommy's Morning Out potty train her in August, right after her 2nd birthday.

I know one of these days I'm probably going to miss this house. I'll definitely miss the yard. Of course, I don't know if Adam will because it is a lot of work - which he does tirelessly - that giant hill is a beast without a self-propelled push mower and the weeds...the WEEDS! The girls, however, LOVE the yard. And on rainy days? I'm pulling out my hair because they can't go out there. That's not true...usually I give them rain jackets and help 'em pull on their rain boots and off they go. Charlotte can climb the Red Tip this year, they explore the "trail", mix up "stews" in flower pots and sand pails, swing, slide, climb, fill the birdbaths with rocks, say hello to the huskies that live behind us (that you can see in one little corner of the yard, to which they've named "Cloudy" and "Meatball"), climb the tree house to shout hello to Wilson & Baker (Mr. Jack's dogs that live next door), pick flowers and hunt for bugs and frogs and poop. The girls are poop pirates. If there is a dog poop in the yard they will track it down, get the scoop and get to hollering for me to help them get it. Ruby also likes to hike the stairs then shout for mom from the top - to show me that she's made it...and then to help her swing like a big girl (no baby swing for this toddler - it's backless swinging all the way). Note to Adam: I'm purposely leaving out what happened this weekend right here...all three accidents. Love ya.

"ffffflower"

Charlotte's speech is going pretty well! We're still working on "f" but I'm hoping we'll accomplish that soon...at $90 a half hour session. Maybe week 8 will be our lucky week! No, really - she can pronounce the "f" sound - what we're working on now is her mastering the sound in blends (fr/fl) and conversationally. It's changing her habits, like changing an accent almost - a way of speaking. Ruby likes to practice with us - and proudly shouts "FROG". Really, if Ruby had been our first I would have noticed Charlotte's speech a lot sooner. Ruby, at 19 months has one serious vocabulary. And her pronunciation is just about spot on. Do you want to know what word I hear 1,000 times a day? Of course you do! "Char-Char!" Over and over and over.

They completely dressed themselves.

Char-Char! Ruby wants to be just like her. She wants to wear her clothes, wear her shoes, eat the same food (and then some because Ruby has a great appetite and will try everything, and usually likes it - not strawberries), play with the same toys, read the same books, play the same games, sit in the same seat, receive the same "luxuries" (ie. walking through a parking lot holding her own umbrella). Sister emulation. God it's sweet. And then to see Charlotte taking it for granted! Are all sisters like this? I mean, my sister definitely doesn't idolize me...Ha! But maybe she did...Greatest gift, I'm telling you...Char Char better not take that love for granted...Sibling Rivalry is a tricky little beast that I can attest to already.

We had to get ready to go pre-register at the hospital this morning for Friday. The girls got dressed. I can't tell either one of them what to wear. Charlotte picked out her favorite pants and her favorite shirt. Ruby picked out her favorite dress of Charlotte's and leggings. I put my foot down when she wanted to wear Charlotte's shoes. Fine. I caught a great story on NPR about the importance of letting preschoolers implement their own decisions...New Zealand study, birth to 32 years, blah blah blah. So, whatever, I'm cool with them picking out their clothes and having some autonomy...I just want it clear that I didn't pick out those ensembles.

Ruby News

2011-03-06T10:31:00.001-05:00

Dear Family & Friends,

We've had a lot going on recently with Ruby.

Her asthma and bronchitis has flared up again, luckily we had a little break there while we were in Disney...

But also,

Ruby definitely has hypoplasia enamel. Big, fancy word for "very little enamel on front teeth" - which of course is where you need the most enamel. Your front teeth absorb all of the impact, you know when you fall or get hit by a ball. Ruby, like all toddlers, especially tough toddlers (and you know we raise 'em tough) falls down a lot. Five busted lips. Three times I was certain her teeth were busted out. Nope. But that's trauma. That's real bad for hypoplasia enamel...The missing enamel is usually localized, which results in small dents, grooves or pits on the outer surface of the affected teeth. This makes the teeth’s surface very rough, and the defects often stand out because they are brown or yellow in color.

She has also recently possibly (I know, right?) been diagnosed with Gastro-Esophageal Reflux Disease (GERD). Symptoms probably didn't start manifesting until she started solid foods - causes a cough, which was maybe overlooked by doctors and us because of her asthma diagnosis. There has been speculation that the condition has contributed to the enamel on her teeth to start de-calcifying and eroding away. No enamel on her teeth leaves her very susceptible to cavities and it's painful for her and will quickly worsen unless they get in there and fix her teeth.

Which brings me to this: after many doctor visits, many dentists visits, many, many tears and much research we're left with this: Ruby is scheduled to go under general anasthesia on March 18 to get...new teeth. I'm attempting humor here to make this a little easier to talk about and share.

Yesterday we went to the hospital to have a chest x-ray taken, to check for abnormalities (the bronchitis/asthma again) and we were suppose to drink a bottle of barium, take pictures during and after, to check for reflux. Eventhough Ruby fasted before the procedure, and was desperate for the bottle of "chocolate milk", after two sips was F-I-N-I-S-H-E-D. Done. Not happening. So not only was she suppose to drink an entire bottle of barium, then she was suppose to lie down on an x-ray table...looked an awful lot like an MRI machine to me. Right.
Now the doctor, not her primary, a partner at the practice, wants her to go in and get a tube inserted into her nose and shoved down her esophagus. Where it will stay for 24 hours to monitor the acid levels in her stomach.

Let me jump a bit here to say that dentists and dental work are a nightmare. Three pediatric dentistry specialists, three different treatment analysis. And if it wasn't for Dr. Cheek, our primary, love her, I don't even want to think about where we'd be...

When Ruby got her first tooth...it looked...funny...a little bit...thin. More white in some areas than not. I, of course tried to blow it off, didn't want to think too much of it. She was still absolutely perfect - which is everything she is.
Then it looked like goldfish crackers started getting stuck along her gum lines, like we weren't brushing her teeth thoroughly enough. We scrubbed. Then we realized she was missing enamel on her four front teeth.

Panicked. Full-blown. Tears, loss of appetite, spiraling depression, nightmares, debilitating guilt...I felt like it was my fault.

God is obviously trying to teach me a lesson here: I do not have complete control over my life or the lives of my children. TERRIFYING! But I'm a damn good mom (can you use "God" and "damn" in the same paragraph and not go to "hell"?) and my girls have parents and grandparents that would go to the moon and back for them - ... and we're taking action.

I'm going to make a very long story short right here and say that some pediatric dentists (the VAST majority of which won't treat children under 3 which only made our research for the right dentist that much harder) are pompous, cruel, barbaric a**holes. Some of them are okay and some of them are...heaven-sent. But man are the good ones hard to find. Google let me down big time.
For a while there, we thought we'd be able to treat her dental problem with "conscious sedation" aka Twilight Sedation/Versed/Relaxed Dentistry (lots of words for it). Then we went and talked it over with her doctor.

Sedation? In a dentist's office? Absolutely not. Not with Ruby's history, her asthma and her "chronic" bronchitis.

Doctor wants us in a hospital setting with an anaesthesiologist And she referred us to yet another specialist.
Dr. Mark Lawrence is compassionate and gentle, cautious and smart and the only dentist in Columbus, Ga with hospital privileges.

A couple of weeks from now we're going to check in to Columbus Regional and have Ruby's teeth fully repaired, she'll be getting four brand new pearly whites and will have nerve treatments. She'll be sore for a few days and on pain medication but this should completely fix her problem.

And I love my parents. They have supported us every step of the way. I mean, while Adam was at work, busting his tail so we can pay our health bills, my dad is at the hospital with Ruby & me and has a plavix-related emergency and has to go to the E.R. - but not before his grand-daughter is treated and taken care of, with the help of a nurse he quietly applies a pressure bandage, elevates his arms and sits and waits - asks if Ruby is alright. They've rescheduled trips, accompanied me to doctor's appointments (when Adam can't), helped me with research, and been there to listen. They'll also have Charlotte with them for a few days at Lake Lanier when Ruby has her surgery and while she's recovering.

That's the news from the Wilson Household. Where the man is hardworking, the woman is strong, the children are sick but happy and the dogs are neurotic.

Disney or Bust 2011

2011-02-28T18:18:00.002-05:00

Adam won a National Excellence in Construction Award for his last project on Fort Benning (APPLAUSE). The awards ceremony (think Oscars, I am, I’m banking on an Acceptance Speech in which he thanks me for all the support and tells the world how much he LOVES me) is going to be at the Waldorf and for a couple of hours we were really excited because we were going to stay at the fancy Waldorf Astoria Orlando! But when I told them we were traveling two adults, two kids and a granny they didn’t have any rooms.
Bummer. Maybe we’ll stay at one of the fun Disney Resort Hotels? Our only requirements? Indoor pool, free breakfast, happy hour and room must be a suite. Okay, well, a Disney suite starts at $1600/night. A NIGHT! Of course your veranda is overlooking the “African Savannah” aka “Disney’s Wild Animal Kingdom” and maybe some giraffes will share your grapes. And we maybe would have done it but there’s no continental breakfast which in my case is always a deal breaker.

We headed out on Saturday when Adam got in from Birmingham – he’s a southern state jet-setter. Loaded up, left out at 5:20. We stopped for supper in Valdosta. All Adam had to do to get Charlotte on his side for dinner was say “WAFFLE HOUSE.” Charlotte sat up at the bar with her daddy and enjoyed her buttery waffle and we listened to some Jimmy Buffet on the juke box. We were hoping to make it to Valdosta, the halfway point. Ruby fussed from the time we left WaHo until she fell asleep. Charlotte’s whining a little because her "babies" are sleepy and need to nurse but we decided to bribe her with a Reese Cup and push it to maybe Gainesville, FL. A lot easier to drive when Ruby’s isn’t fussing AND we would be able to spend more time at Sea World on Sunday. Eventually I started looking up hotels and calling to find out the rate. No Vacancy. Huh. No Vacancy. Again and again, everywhere I called. I solicited the help of Expedia , Orbitz, Priceline, Kayak, “No Rooms Available for Selected Night" Charlotte’s whining, her babies are tired, I’m started to panic, Adam driving, says, ‘let me see that ipad’ because obviously I’m doing something wrong. Start calling hotels directly. Nope. Nope. Nope. Oh dear. I finally find a hotel in Alachua, FL that has a vacancy. I forget to make the reservation. I end up calling the girl back four times and still forget to ask the name of the hotel. Oh yes. I get my final directions, because GPS isn’t pulling up the hwy it’s on, two miles before the exit. We exit.

Adam says, ‘What’s the name of the hotel?’ I just glare. He tries again.

ADAM STOP HARASSING ME!

The girls are both zonked out in the backseat. I'm exhausted, stressed, tired. We continue driving around a bit. Noni starts laughing. And can't stop. Adam starts laughing. They pull into the Comfort Inn or Quality Inn, something, I don't know, I didn't pay attention and go inside to find out if this is our hotel. It is. But the room isn't clean. It's 11:00 at night and they had to call in housekeeping.

40 minutes later we unload the car and the sleeping children, who never wake up. Anyone with kids knows that it was worth all of that to not have to go through the whole bedtime rigmarole that kids require. Adam & I cram ourselves into our little bed with our little girl and fall asleep smiling.

That was Day 1.

I'm terrified about missing breakfast because I love a free breakfast and don't want to over-sleep. I'm wide awake at 6:15 certain the sun is behind the drapes, also certain it's at least 8:00. It wasn't but the baby was up. I took one for the team and left out with Ruby while everyone else got another couple of hours of sleep.

Everything works out and we leave the hotel bright eyed and full of coffee and waffles. Ruby falls asleep. We're only about 2 hours from Orlando.

I can't believe how hot it is. It's hot. I'm my mother's daughter - I say that but she was dressed appropriately in capris and sleeveless shirts...but I do put all of the spring/summer clothes away for fall and winter. I'm starting to think my mom must just wear capris and sleeveless shirts year round...My tanks and shorts, the girls' shorts, are in the attic! Which is where my mother taught me to put them...and where they are right now on Day 2 of our Orlando trip. I'm scrounging for clothes for me and the girls the whole trip...hopefully that will explain some of our ensembles in these photos.

We make it to Sea World around lunchtime. It's packed but we're pumped. Charlotte wants to head immediately to see Shamu. Which his good with us, it's a very inspiring show. I walk down to the tank with the girls while Adam & Noni try and find us a good seat. There's whistling and waving, we finally spot each other. I sit with Ruby and notice "SOAK ZONE" plastered across the back of the chair in front of me. I'm the only one that wants to move.

Charlotte is very excited. Ruby's excited (she was tickled when we walked past the sea animal statues on the way in). We're all excited! Cool show, amazing animals. Did you know Killer Whales are the animal sea creature with no predators? They can team up and kill a great white shark. I don't blame the trainers for not swimming with the orcas anymore...but I have to say...it was more exciting when they did. The show left a stronger impression when I was eight...and not only because I really was soaked from sitting in the splash zone. This time? Three drops and nobody rode a killer whale.

The Dolphin show was amazing. We thought it would be corny when we were settling in with our dippin' dots because of the costumes and stuff...but it was really neat. They swam with the dolphins and had high divers and people dressed like birds on bungee cords...We all cheered and clapped and got choked up at the beauty of it all...Noni summed it all up when, at the end, she shouted 'THAT'S THE GREATEST SHOW ON EARTH'.

Charlotte wanted to pet everything and feed everything and Ruby just wanted to "SEE". We'd be trucking along in the stroller and Roo would point and say "see see see!"

We got up early for Disney. Charlotte was very excited to finally go and see the princess castle and where all of the princesses lived. I told Noni to relax and the pool, that we'd see her mid-afternoon, leave Ruby with her and go back with Charlotte for some roller coasters...

...but after parking and waiting in line and riding the shuttle to get to the gate and waiting in line to buy the ticket to wait in line to load the monorail or the ferry boat to get to the island of Magic Kingdom to wait in line to get the bags checked to wait in line to get to the GATE to walk in a line to get in line for the food, the gifts, the parade, the RIDES we knew that now that we were in, we were staying in.

The Magic Kingdom is, indeed, magical. Charlotte was thrilled and so excited and then the parade came through and all of the Disney friends danced and waved to her. I was just overwhelmed. Completely and totally overwhelmed by the sheer volume of people that were there. The girls loved the rides, hated waiting in line and the shortest line was 30 minutes (no strollers allowed). It was 84 degrees in February so it was hot. I got sunburned. That was embarrassing. It was a fun day, but a long day. Adam & I earned our drinks that night. We stayed all the way until the electrical parade (both girls were on our shoulders because we were 20 people back from the street) and the danced and wiggled and waved and shouted hey to every float that passed by, especially Ruby. We were on the ferry boat headed back to the car when the fireworks started.

Charlotte wanted nothing to do with being transformed into Cinderella at the Bippity Boppity Boutique. She liked her own Cinderella dress and her pig tails...which we re-did right after she waited in line an hour and it was her turn to meet the princesses...Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella and Belle. Adam caught most of the magical introductions on video...but at one point there is a weird, zoomed in and long-lasting cleavage shot of Belle. See, he was wrestling with Ruby because Belle wanted a hug from her and a bite of her cheetos and somehow he was videoing and holding Ruby? I don't know...that's just what he said. :)

We learned some things, how to do Disney and how not to do Disney, get there EARLY, take advantage of the Fast Pass and get your kids an ice cream before she every line. And we can't wait to go back...when Ruby is at least Charlotte's age, she's got to be at least 4 before we'll brave it again...

Adam and I are both running regularly now but I'm thinking we need to start cross-training or something before we go back...a triathalon might be a good way to shape up for Disney...

You would have thought that at the end of the day the girls would have been wiped. Not so, of course the mom & the dad were the ones doing the pushing, carrying, toting and hiking. They were so revved up...Charlotte was reenacting every show she saw and telling Noni all she could remember...which made it all worth it. I'll say it again, it's exhausting and overwhelming but it's magical.

Tuesday we woke up and headed back to Sea World. We pet some stingrays, rode a roller coaster or two (yes, even Charlotte), saw all the rest of the animals and had a nice, relaxing, fun time. Ruby said, 'hey dogs!' to just about all she saw...the seals and polar bear were especially exciting...

Then we went swimming in the pool back at the hotel. Both girls loved jumping in - Charlotte even insisted on doing it by herself and going under without holding her nose! Ruby counted to three and jumped to us again and again.

Noni ordered pizza and sat with the girls while Adam and I headed over to the Waldorf Astoria for his Award Reception.

After three days of theme parks it was fantastic to get dressed and go for more than an hour without having some sort of cheese snack smeared on my shoulder. BAck at the hotel, Charlotte rubbed Ruby's belly, and sang her to sleep. We got home, late, because after the banquet we went out to celebrate with friends, and all three girls were snuggled up in the same bed. Can I just throw in here that BL Harbert Int'l and one other General Contractor, were the only ones in the country to receive three 'Excellence in Construction' Awards? And yeah, the new Auburn Arena received one as well...

Accepting the award

My favorite part of the trip was when Adam received his award. I was so proud of him. He received an 'Excellence in Construction' National Award for his work on the ATB Barracks Project, Industrial $25-$100 million category.

APPLAUSE. APPLAUSE. STANDING OVATION RIGHT HERE FROM YOU GIRLS.

We love you and are proud of you every day.

A Few-Word Valentine Special

2011-02-15T17:12:00.000-05:00

Headed to the Valentine's Day Party at School!

Not her fault. Albuterol is in full effect.

Charlotte gets indecent at the party...Thomas takes advantage by going after her unattended cookie

B.F.F.'s Char & Sally

Mommy, Charlotte & Ruby made homemade truffles for daddy. We all worked together and they still turned out this lovely. No, I do not know who took a bite out of that one...I do know that Char generally likes to "taste" things to make sure they aren't too salty or spicy...that they taste "just right"

We had a great Valentine's Day.

Uncle John's Zoo

2011-02-06T11:04:00.000-05:00

Amber, Violet, Ruby, Adam, Charlotte

Uncle John is Gigi's twin brother. John is an animal lover hobbyist. In his semi-retirement he has created the nicest petting zoo in his substantial backyard. He enjoys the animals and wants his grandchildren and his great-nieces and nephews to enjoy it as well.

We took the girls up yesterday with Gigi, Ant Amber and Cousin Violet. Can you imagine? A full day spent together AND a private petting zoo? The girls were in heaven.

Rabbits, baby rabbits, guineas, plenty of outdoor space to explore, sheep, adorable baby goats, turkey (we didn't pet those), chickens (the girls got to collect eggs), they watched some peacocks, petted a Great Pyrenees (guardian of the animals), ducks and they played on some rocks (super-fun for kids).

When we arrived, Charlotte ran up to Uncle John and threw her arms around his neck. Animal lovers must be able to sense a likeness in each other.

The baby goats, Winston, Rocky & Sophia, were as sweet & friendly as puppies. They've been handled and loved on lots since arriving on the farm. An email announcement was sent out a couple of weeks ago, asking the kids to help think of names for the goats. Charlotte's suggestions? Charlotte. Ruby. Tiana.

It was cute when the goats were nuzzling the girls faces. But then I said, 'oh Ruby, you're getting some kisses' - and then our little love bug tried to kiss them back, running around after them...and I cringed.

When we went into the rabbit and guinea pen, all the girls were handed carrots. So, they waltzed around, offering their carrots. Ruby called 'here kitty kitty' to the bunnies and would stick her booty up in the air and give it a good wiggle. All of the girls wanted in to the rabbit hutch.

Do you know we have a cedar rabbit mansion in the backyard? One of our millionaire neighbors was throwing it away! So what does my husband do? He pulls over and puts it in the back of his pickup truck. Then I told him we could not have a rabbit. Seriously. I'm afraid of rabbits. I mean, I don't like to stick my hand in there with a jumpy one and feed him and clean up his poop. So, if Adam wants to volunteer for that, and once we are finished moving, and we adopt a hand-raised bunny from Uncle John, I might concede.

After the rabbits, it was time to tie baggies on our shoes and go see the chickens. Flashbacks from my childhood, wild, crazy, fluttering, flapping chickens.

No, really. When I was in elementary school, we had a baby-sitter one summer that lived on a farm. For the most part, it was a fun, thrilling adventure. Pigs, horses...I think we watched a cow birth a calf? No we did. That left an impression. We definitely did. And for some reason, I think my mom witnessed some of that one as well, I seem to remember someone talking about how amazing it was...and it wasn't me. They had a chicken coop...and whenever one of the (baby-sitter's) kids went in to feed the chickens and collect the eggs, they would all flutter and flap around. I wouldn't even walk by the coop.

It was an old-fashioned, genuine summer. The oldest boy, would run and jump on his pony when we were playing and just take off and that was cool. It was right after that I started horse camp which lead to 12 years of horse lessons and shows. Other than the fact that they butchered the pig, it was one of the best summers of my childhood.

But the chickens left an impression. I did not want to go into the chicken habitat at Uncle John's...but I wasn't about to let my girls go in without me. Not that I didn't trust the rest of the family, just, well, I'm their mother. And if I didn't deem it "safe" enough for me, it's certainly not safe enough for them. And they were going in. Adam assured me, no way Gigi and Uncle John would open this up for the girls if it wasn't safe.

There was no fluttering or flapping. The girls chased the chickens and (the chickens) ran away from them. Then the girls collected eggs. Charlotte only dropped one. Success.

Adam, Ruby, Gigi, Charlotte, Violet, Amber

And to top the day off, Uncle John let the girls pick out some rocks to take home and some "bunny" and "deer" yard ornaments. We can't wait to go back.

Distressed

2011-02-01T16:17:00.000-05:00

There are few things worse for a 4 year old than waking up thinking that today is the day of your best friend's birthday party, running into the kitchen and having your mom tell you it's been postponed because your best friend has a fever.

Charlotte wakes up with "BIRTHDAY PARTY ENERGY" but with no party to go to. I start my morning off by tip-toeing out of my dark bedroom into the bathroom to brush my teeth, hoping that the movement doesn't wake up the sleeping dogs or the sleeping baby. Most mornings I fail on some level and have to let the dogs out of their crates and/or help the baby out of bed and wrestle off a dirty diaper all with a toothbrush hanging out of my mouth. This morning, again, I failed on both counts. Ruby wanted to go out with the dogs...yesterday she played outside in the rain (obviously with her slicker on) at least this morning it wasn't raining, she did slip into a parka and pull some boots on over her footie pj's. I started my coffee. Before I had a chance to sit down with said coffee Charlotte comes bolting in ready to party. All dressed, no party to attend.

Party energy did not cease. So after heart-shaped, peanut butter bread for breakfast, that the girls didn't eat as much as spread over one another, we loaded up to head to the museum.

The girls were presentable, I cleaned the peanut butter off their cheeks and changed their clothes. I threw on some comfy clothes, did not brush my hair nor check myself in the mirror.

Field trip day at the museum, tons of cars in the lot, which says to me: better flip down the vanity mirror. This is when I notice the rat nest on one side of my head aka "severe bed head" and focus in a little better on what I have on. Distressed, paper-thin, hugely baggy j.crew jeans that are actually colored to look dirty (on second thought, these jeans are 10 years old...was distressed even "in" back then? Am I wearing authentically distressed clothing? And if that's the case, are they dirty?), ultra-long, could maybe wear with leggings, long-sleeve grey shirt/tunic chosen to cover the giant hole in the crotch of the jeans, that I tried to patch but failed and now the patch is itchy, and a "distressed" and faded-looking camel and grey, "professor" cardigan, wrapped around me and cinched up tight like a robe...and to top it all off? You guessed it...crocs. I almost slipped on the 10 year birks which would have been just as bad...both equally ugly I think.

Too late now. Where's that lipstick?

Lots of kids, lots of teachers, lots of chaperons, shiny mommy & baby playgroup and I look like the homeless woman. I kept my head held high. Maybe they'll think I was going for the "distressed look" and the bed head was part of that.

On the second floor, the entry-floor, is a huge, taxidermy-ed alligator. Apparently, in 20,000 B.C. alligators were a real problem here. And the indigenous people had to create these elaborate plans to stalk and kill the alligators before the alligators killed them. Charlotte likes to visit the alligator every time we're at the museum. Today she noticed the illustrations of how the alligators were killed by the people. Try explaining that to a 4 year old. In desperation, when I tried to explain to her that if the men didn't hunt and kill the alligators then the alligators would stalk them and eat their children & babies (sounds harsh, didn't phase her) she said, but mom! 'the alligators have babies too! and now they don't have a mommy...'

When I told her that the alligator on display was the daddy she said, 'it's the same thing mom'.

Reason Adam has never brought home a taxidermy-ed pheasant.

Ruby counts out loud to three, usually, she's semi-mocking me, but I'm still counting it as an accomplishment. She likes to climb into my SUV and into her seat all by herself...at her own speed...which means I usually become impatient and count to three (on three I put her in her seat myself) so now she runs and climbs up and starts laughing and counting to three.

We had dance class last night. Ruby fell leaving the house, we're always rushing. And didn't bust her lip as much as skinned it up. Blood everywhere. Last Friday she climbed up into her anywhere chair. I think she was trying to get to the 4th floor of Charty's doll house, and crashed into the second floor, taking out a chunk of wood that got stuck in her lip and nose. She falls down quite a bit. But what makes me so proud is that she gets up and keeps running or jumping or climbing.

Last Friday we went to Hampton so that I could get a home-made meal without having to cook, Moses could get his hair cut and Charlotte could see puppies and so that "Nana" and "Hoppy" could babysit while I had a grown-up lunch with Katy.

We have raised a responsible and gentle puppy-handler. What's best is that she never asked if we could get a puppy or bring one home. Charlotte just held the first white puppy, then the second, then repeated until it was time to go. Poor salt & peppers and black & silvers...

Of course she hasn't stopped talking about the puppies...which is exhausting. I've explained at least 10 times everyday since Saturday why we can't go back to Ms. Toni's again this day...

When I got back with the girls on Saturday evening we were rushing. Adam's all standing around relaxed, dressed up. Friends and our babysitter are meeting us at the house any minute then we're headed to dinner. Back to Hunter's Pub, our new favorite steak place.

Several bottles of wine, lobster, steak and fudge pie with good friends; a fun, relaxing end to a good day. The only thing better than that is when the guy at the table next to yours picks up your check...my husband's a big shot (wink).

And Adam finally started running with me! I had to run pushing both kids and a mini schnauzer in the double but that "evened us out" - ha!

I did realize, almost after I typed it last week, that it is not okay to say "FAT" to a 4 year old. Plus, Katy re-iterated it to me, face to face on Saturday. "Healthy" choices and "unhealthy" choices, "junk food" is okay too. "Fat" is not, never ever. And don't just talk about being healthy...be (that's from me).

On the same note, who am I to run out of the house with bed head while insisting Charlotte comb hers out? But to be fair, Ruby's hair always looks amazing...she wakes up with fantastic bed head...I had assumed until today that she got that from me. I know she didn't get it from Adam.

never any bed head - lucky and not just because he gets to nap all day...

Confidence

2011-01-27T17:25:00.000-05:00

Lots of people have children two years apart. I thought I wanted to have children two years apart. Then Charlotte turned 15 months old and I realized I was so not ready. I decided three years would be the safest bet...

...got pregnant a little bit earlier than expected and Ruby joined our family when Charlotte was 2 years and 7 months. We've white-knuckled it since then. It's been glorious but hard.

Discipline, boundaries and authority have not come naturally to me. That being said, I have no regrets. We became better parents to Charlotte when Ruby was born. Charlotte learned that other people have needs, that we share, we take turns and things won't always be "fair". And Charlotte was given the greatest gift (I believe) a parent can give to a child, a sibling.

Eighteen months after Ruby was born...the magic started happening. They're becoming friends. I mean really becoming friends. They play together, eat at their little table together, watch movies together, break the rules and jump on the bed together, bathe together, they laugh together and after they kiss & hug they cry at night when they're separated! Ruby, who has been as attached to me as Charlotte was, runs away from me to find her big sis...and then stays with her. Laughter is the biggest one. There isn't anything sweeter than listening to your children crack each other up.

I don't know what to do with myself. But I'm thinking I'm just going to enjoy all the free time...blog maybe. Ruby will be starting Mommy's Morning Out in August. My arms feel a little empty but I don't think I'm going to tell Adam I"m ready to try for another one tonight...

Sorry hon.

Day 1 of speech therapy was today. It was a bitch. We both officially hate the "F" sound. Charlotte started out really strong but I'd say 20-25 minutes into the 30 minute session (when she realized that her diversion tactics weren't working and the therapist was not laughing at all of her many jokes) she started getting upset. I would even go so far as to say "non-compliant". Then, to try and make nice, the therapist asked Charlotte to come and make copies of her homework with her. They left, 45 seconds later I hear my child screaming and her footsteps as she's running down the hall. I step out with Ruby, what in the world?! Apparently, Charlotte is still very confused about what exactly the speech "school" is and all the people and the rooms and when her teacher opened up the copy closet door all of those machines looked a little bit too frightening and too "hospital" like.

Actually I have no idea why she freaked & bolted but I had to say something clever to the therapist.

I'm flabbergasted at how much lies ahead with the speech therapy. 30 minutes of attempting "F" and we were still struggling. And the therapist wants me in the room because I need to interpret for Charlotte.

I realized something about myself. Say what you will about Amy Chua and her memoir on Chinese parenting but I agree with her assertion that American parents go too far in insulating their children from discomfort and distress. We "assume fragility instead of strength". And then, an editor at Psychology Today magazine agrees, 'research demonstrates that children who are protected from grappling with difficult tasks don't develop what psychologists call 'mastery experiences'.' The editor goes on to explain, 'kids who have this well-earned sense of mastery are more optimistic and decisive; they've learned that they're capable of overcoming adversity and achieving goals.'

Nothing is fun until you're good at it. Nothing is better for your self-esteem than overcoming something you didn't believe you could do. Life lessons. Charlotte will overcome her pronunciation and articulation difficulty. And when she does, the lesson of that will stick with her for the rest of her life.

Unlike Chua, however, I will not withhold bathroom breaks, water, food or sleep until she's able to pronounce her "F's".

Hard work! Persistence! No Excuses! (IN SHORT INCREMENTS!)

We're building confidence, self-esteem and a vocabulary here!

On To Other News

2011-01-25T16:05:00.000-05:00

I am trying to put Charlotte's recent speech evaluation out of my head, while continuing to tell myself that I'm not a bad mother for putting it off until she was 4.

Heather & Grant came down this weekend. Which made me feel a lot better. Not only because they're super-fun and our kids LOVE them but because Heather put on her teacher face right away and started talking to Charlotte and listening to her. Teaching through play, perfect, right? She & Katy both think that even if I had tried to get services for Charlotte 7 months ago...which, actually, I did, I just didn't pursue it after the pediatrician and her teacher told me she was too young...that "developmentally lots of articulation problems work themselves out by the 4th birthday"...but I still feel like there was room for me to push it further. A mother's guilt...it's always lurking there with something.

So, Heather came down and just by playing with Charlotte, started working with her on her articulation and pronunciation. And Charlotte started trying with Heather. After just a couple of minutes I started seeing some improvement! That was exciting. It didn't take Charlotte long, however, to catch on, I think, and realize that while Heather would play princesses and kitchen with her, Grant would wrestle with her. And after Grant threw a pillow at Ruby she totally warmed up.

We left the girls to play with their favorite babysitter and headed to a local's steak place, Hunter's Pub, in the middle of nowhere, in an old gas station, no sign. De-LISH.

Charlotte had her hearing test today, and her hearing is fine. While the hearing specialist and I were talking Charlotte took a pencil and drew a picture. Before we left the doctor asked Charlotte what she drew.

Charlotte says:

It's a map to Disney World! We're going there in 4 weeks. There are going to be lots of turns, alright? And maybe some mountains. We're going to go round and round and up and down. Are you listening? And after a long time, maybe even so long Roo-ba goes to sleep we will be at the biggest princess castle you've ever seen! It's where Cinderella AND Sleeping Beauty live. Pay attention! They live there with the two mice and their birds. Over here is where the evil step-mother lives and the evil step-sisters. I don't think we should go over there. Alright? But if we do, because I'm pretty strong and pretty brave, we will kill them, alright? And my daddy will help us kill them with a sword, alright?

...is what I heard and it was what she said. I was about to explain to her, again, that we don't kill people, even bad people, but then the specialist said, "THAT SOUNDS WONDERFUL CHARLOTTE!'

Then she quietly said to me, 'what did she say?'

We have got to fix this. Right now her mis-communication is leading doctors to tell her it sounds wonderful to kill people...

I'm letting it go! Moving forward, because we're on the right path and she starts private therapy on Thursday.

We have had a lot of bike riding going on. Charlotte got a 14" bicycle for her birthday. We brought her BFF Sally over and together took them and their bicycles to the track to practice. Sally is an athlete. Adam & I will be looking for her in the 2024 Olympics. After just a bit Charlotte had her bike figured out. We go around the block every chance we get . Ruby wants to be just like her big sis so she pulls on her helmet, and climbs onto Charlotte's old tricycle with a handle (for me, the pusher). We follow Charlotte around the block. For a while there she was falling off about twice an afternoon...But she's starting to get the hang of it. She rides with total abandon. No fear. She bird watches while she peddles. And she knows only one speed: fast as she can. But still no tears. I almost cried once. I was wearing Ruby in the Ergo, walking with Charlotte, we'd been riding for about an hour, and she got a little carried away riding around a downhill turn (with a drop-off on the other side of the sidewalk). I was trying to keep her away from the "cliff" and she was trying to ride down the "cliff" - we tumbled over each other. People saw. I almost cried. Charlotte laughed, climbed off of us and told me to get up.

I have incorporated something new into the house, along with the "Wilson Rules", which as Grant pointed out I should probably add "Say NO to Drugs", I have a big, bowl of "anytime" food; which means that whenever the girls are hungry they can have an apple, banana, orange, onion, carrot, broccoli. So far, we've eaten lots of bananas and carrots and apples. But I'm wondering, we talk about healthy food and junk food and exercising, is it alright to use the "f" word with a 4 year old? As in, 'you cannot have a king-size Reese cup' or 3 bowls of BBQ chips in a day because you will get FA_?' Because between the "Tiger Mom" articles and ensuing debate and catching up on Season 9 Biggest Loser at night on my ipad, I'm thinking tough love might be the way to go...we're not trying to raise a family of wusses...

...says the mother that almost cried when her daughter fell off her bike.

Charlotte Can't Wait

2011-01-21T18:11:00.002-05:00

I serve as Charlotte's "interpreter" a lot. As her mother, I am very fluent in 'Charlotte-ese' and I help her grandparents, her friends, my friends and her teachers understand her. I don't mind a bit...but it's frustrating for her.

I've watched her with other children. She's quiet. Her teacher says she's an excellent child, sweet, smart and spunky, she plays well with boys, girls or by herself. But I've watched her in class and on playgrounds. She's quiet...but she's not shy.

When school started in August, I approached her teacher after the first week and asked her if she was able to understand Charlotte when she spoke. The teacher had to consider the question for a moment, probably realizing that she hadn't actually heard Charlotte say much of anything. And told me that no, only occasionally they had a hard time understanding her. I asked her if she thought I should have her evaluated for speech, she didn't.

So, next time we were in the doctor's office I asked her doctor. The pediatrician said she doesn't refer children until they're four, lots of times these problems have a way of working themselves out.

Meanwhile, I'm clutching the fence. Never one to trust my own judgement explicitly, I asked everyone I knew what they thought. I have encouraging, supportive, optimistic friends... I came to the conclusion that Charlotte's pronunciation would get better on it's own.

But when her fourth birthday rolled around, I sought out that referral for a speech evaluation...and what really cooked my grits, the particular pediatrician that did refer her (not the same as the initial one) would have referred her a year earlier. Because, as she said, what in the world could it hurt?

Charlotte had her evaluation earlier this week at Columbus Speech & Hearing. It took her a little while to warm up...she wasn't entirely sure what was up. But two ladies without white coats, sat down with her at a little table and started playing Mr. Potato-Head. Then Charlotte "read" them a book.

It was a flip-the-pages book, and on every page Charlotte had to label an item or two and explain what was going on.

I didn't interpret anything she said. A couple of times Charlotte got off on tangents about an idea the picture in the book gave her. Once, it was about her friends at school. She wasn't understood at all. Charlotte used her arms and tried to act out what she was trying to say...then she gave up...and just nodded her head. The second time, she started telling the therapist about her pony, Snickers. The therapist thought she was talking about her "sister". Charlotte got frustrated, nodded her head and gave up.

Stop right there. My heart was BREAKING. Because imagine how frustrating that would be to not be able to be understood, to not be able to communicate with people when you knew full well what you wanted to say. Is this why she floats around the classroom and likes to play by herself?

The test that they administered was age specific, designed for a girl age 4 to 4 years, 1 month. At that age a child should be able to pronounce 67 sounds. Charlotte was able to pronounce 8.

Sounds that originate at the front of the mouth are easier to say. "D", "G", "B". Charlotte struggles with most other sounds, and all double consonants. It's common for a child to struggle with "R" and "L" until the age of 7 or 8, this type of difficulty is considered age-appropriate. She uses the "D" sound for most consonants. Charlotte's cognitive perception, her vocabulary and comprehension are "above-average". Her articulation is the problem. Without me with her, she has great difficulty communicating.

By the age of 5 a child should have the pronunciation equivalency of an adult (with exception of possibly the "R" and "L")

When they were finished Charlotte went back to playing with one of the therapists and I spoke with the other one

Charlotte scored "less than 2" (which means her pronunciation is less than that of a two year old).

The evaluator recommended therapy, 96 sessions in 12 months (twice a week for the next year). Which is all well and good...except it's expensive. $79/half hour session. Insurance will cover a percentage of 30 sessions.

I talked to...everybody. I rarely have a thought I don't share with at least three people. My sister was a big help - she teaches 4 year olds as part of the Georgia "Bright from the Start" Pre-K program. There is funding that has been set aside to ensure all children have a shot at a pre-school education. With that, the state provides, if there is a need, speech therapy twice a week. Here's the great part, though. Your pre-schooler doesn't have to be enrolled in school. In Muscogee County your pre-schooler is entitled to a free vision, hearing & speech evaluation. If they discover your child is in need of services, they'll provide it, for free. It's all about knowing who to call.

Another program that provides help is "Babies Can't Wait" - offers a wide array of services that's available for all babies, toddlers and pre-schoolers. Which includes a free speech evaluation in your home and free speech therapy.

I felt horrible after her evaluation. Of course, I wish I had pushed the doctor - I wish I had known about all of the fantastic programs offered by the state of Georgia. I was depressed for a couple of days, talked it out, got pro-active and now am feeling a lot better. And Charlotte is going to be fine. We're counting our blessings...again.

Among those blessings is a sister that teachers pre-school in Georgia and has first-hand knowledge about these programs, because do you know what the director of services at the board of education said when I called? You must know somebody thats heavily involved in education with the state of Georgia...

Well, now you do too.

Be Ware Up Chuck Bug

2011-01-08T16:21:00.000-05:00

Looks like the only time I'm blogging is when the girls are sick...and they're resting.

Sick again. Not Charlotte! (Fingers crossed it stays that way.)

Ruby woke up throwing up. We were sharing a pillow. Not a pleasant way to wake up. Then she threw up 10 more times. I thought it was safe to give her a bath but four minutes into the water and the diarrhea starts.

Luckily, I'd already had my coffee, so I had my wits about me when I started ordering Adam around as to how to best clean up the mess.

We had big, fun plans for the weekend too. Isn't that always the way it goes?

Our friends were coming down from Atlanta; we were picking up Charlotte's new, bigger bed; we were going to try out a new restaurant w/friends sans kids; Charlotte was suppose to go to a "come-as-your-favorite-princess" birthday party (which theme I am totally stealing next year); I was going to try out an antique market I've heard great things about; our friends' little girl turns "1" tomorrow and we were going to go to the party as a family!

Now Ruby is sick. And I've been thrown up on about eleven times so far...

Charlotte has not shown any puny symptoms at all, so she got to go to the princess party but Adam had to take her. He didn't even go inside! And I bet it was just so cute...

Big sis was a little offended she was barricaded from the bedroom where Ruby was but totally understood the "Be Ware the UP Chuck Bug".

Hopefully Ruby will bounce back quick and the rest of us will stay well...

...of course after she'd made it thirty minutes without vomiting I offered her some pedia-lite. She didn't want it, she wanted my tea. So I ditched the tea and poured myself a cup of pedia-lite...then stuck a straw in it and tried to encourage her to drink some, after me...then me after her and her after me...

...not one of my most brilliant ideas