A Milestone Marked by String Cheese

Never in my wildest dreams did I think that someone opening a string cheese would be notable, certainly not seen as a significant accomplishment. I couldn't have imagined how excited I would be, even to the point that I'd tell the world about it a week later while still grinning. 

But here I am, about to tell you the story. It's not an exciting story. It's actually quite unremarkable. I was preparing Teddy's lunch, and he helped himself to a string cheese from the refrigerator. I told him to give it to me to open, but instead he headed to the table by himself. 

It's not unusual for Teddy to self-serve food from the fridge. If it's mandarin oranges, he squishes them while clenching them tightly, not realizing we need to assist him in peeling them. If it's frozen waffles or pancakes, he runs off with the entire bag as frozen breakfast items are a staple in his diet ... still frozen, of course. If it's string cheese, he sometimes tries to bite it through the plastic and other times asks for assistance. 

This time, however, he sat down and proceeded to work on opening it by himself. He used a pincher grasp to hold each piece of the plastic and started to pull them apart. He got about 1/3 of the way done and then held it to me to finish. I told him he was doing great and to keep going. He continued pulling the plastic apart until he had it all the way done. Then he pried out the string cheese and promptly ate it in about 3 bites, par for the course for Teddy. 

I was amazed at his focus, his pincher grasp, his persistence to finish the task rather than ripping out the cheese as soon as the plastic was partly undone. All such simple things, but all combined to a big moment for him. 

And he did it while rocking his dad's stocking cap because that's how he rolls. 

Mr. Independent managed to open his own string cheese. 

See Something Positive? Say Something Positive!

 Last week, out of the blue, someone who Dave and I work with through our volunteer work with SkillsUSA (a career and technical skills organization) sent me a message. This year, she transitioned to teaching special education for the first time after a couple years teaching in a traditional classroom. It was just a simple message:

I just want to share with you, now that I am teaching early childhood SPED, that I absolutely love seeing all of the hard work you and Dave do to support Teddy and make sure he is able to be successful!

That certainly put a smile on my face! It wasn't solicited, it wasn't in response to anything and it was just a simple, genuine compliment. Those little words of kindness, which probably took a minute or two of her day, rippled kindness and happiness through my day. I'm still smiling thinking of it a week later.

So, my challenge to you is this: if you see something positive, say something positive! Don't be afraid to reach out to those you know and love or even complete strangers who are doing a great job. If you've never tried to navigate two toddlers through a store, I can guarantee you that many parents in that position could use a boost from someone recognizing their parenting. If you see a young child wearing a mask well, what better way to show that you notice how great they're doing than to compliment their mask? (It's probably best to just leave it at, "I love your mask!" not "You're doing such a great job wearing a mask unlike that adult over there who can't be bothered to wear one properly.") 

Spread a little kindness. Make our world better. 

Progress (and a Neurology Visit)

 Last week Teddy had his neurology appointment. He sees his neurologist every 6 months. Honestly, these are my favorite appointments to attend because his neurologist is absolutely everything you could ever want in a doctor: he's incredibly intelligent yet can explain complex matters in understandable terms, he genuinely cares about Teddy as a person and wants the best for him, he spends time educating himself on the little information there is about Teddy's diagnosis, he has incredible rapport with Teddy, he's understanding of our challenges with Teddy and he also cares about us as Teddy's parents. He's the only doctor who's ever asked me what's on my heart. He's also one of very few doctors or therapists or people on Teddy's school team who addresses me by name rather than "mom." That little thing speaks volumes because it means he knows my name and not just that I'm Teddy's mom. 

Anyways, Teddy has been practicing wearing masks. He's gotten better about tolerating them, although he still licks the inside of them, which really isn't fully effective. But he did absolutely fantastic wearing his mask in the waiting room for his appointment, even though they were behind schedule. He even wore his mask the entire time the nurse was checking him out, never attempting to remove his mask and allowing me to adjust it the few times it went into his eyes or below his nose. Since it was wet, I removed it once the nurse left as he'd been wearing it for 30 minutes. That's a world record for Teddy.

Rocking his mask and his mystery scar. 

When the doctor entered, I went to put it back on, and he was comfortable with his PPE with Teddy not wearing his mask. He also was willing to sit on the exam table with Teddy when Teddy asked (or more so told) him that he should sit up there by Teddy. I tell you, our neuro is one a million. You may never find the doctor who's as perfect a fit as ours, but don't be afraid to move away from a doctor who doesn't meet your need. That was our original neurologist who spent perhaps 5 minutes with Teddy and had no connection with him or us. 

As our appointment ended, our neurologist leaned in to Teddy and said, "I'm proud of you." I'm proud of Teddy as well and grateful for all who support him to be his best self. 

Ughhhh...

 It's hard enough being a parent. It's extra hard to be a parent of a child with special needs. Do you know how much I hate calling to schedule therapy appointments through the scheduling system? I hate calling insurance more, no doubt about that, but my 25-minute call to schedule therapy had me just about in tears.

Mind you, we waited probably close to 6 weeks for the insurance companies to once again deem that Teddy needs therapy. I guarantee you that 6 minutes of observation would demonstrate that need, but let's wait 6 weeks without him getting necessary services. Then, both his OT and speech approvals came through within a week of each other, so I could schedule all his appointments with a single call.

I started with PT to add whatever appointments I could since you can schedule 2 to 3 months out and things fill up fast, and then the same person could help me with OT. Except, she really couldn't help much. She offered me an appointment next week, which was great, but the next available appointment after that was December.

Yes, December. The authorization we just waited 6 weeks to get approves Teddy for 18 visits prior to December 31. Yet, the next available appointment except for one lucky cancellation is the month his authorization expires. So, I asked about other therapists, even though Teddy has seen Ms. Kathleen for 6 years. The response was, well who else can he see? I said I'd assume he could see any available OT, and she corrected me and told me that wasn't possible as they had different specialties. Guess what? It's a moot point since both of them are booked until December as well. So, I took what I could get, sent a message to his therapist to see if she could find any available times in October or November that aren't on her schedule and then got to hold to transfer to the person who schedules for speech.

Fortunately, scheduling for speech was simpler, with much more availability. That still doesn't change the fact that I hate calling central scheduling. 

To Find Joy ...

"Learning to live in the present moment is part of the path of joy." - Sarah Ban Breathnach

I came across this quotation this past week, and it resonated with me. It's similar to a saying I've heard before that essentially says to love the life you have, not the one you wished you had. When we can find joy and happiness in our present circumstances, we can appreciate what we have. Sometimes, that joy and happiness first needs us to accept our present circumstances, rather than spending our effort wishing things were differently. 

We had plans in August for a long weekend backcountry camping with AJ, our third year with this tradition. My parents had graciously agreed to spent quality time with Teddy to allow us to go. The week before our planned trip, we determined that felt too risky given the pandemic and changed our plans to spend a weekend with only AJ at our land. Then essentially a hurricane hit Iowa, and my folks headed there to help my brother with much-needed storm clean up. Completely understandable, yet still disappointing.

So we decided that even though it was a horrible time for me to be off work, we'd attempt to do a long weekend at the land with AJ last weekend as there won't be nice enough weather much longer for us to do that. All went as planned until it didn't, and we ended up at the land for the weekend with Teddy and my parents there. My folks were awesome and intentional to divert as much of Teddy's time as possible to allow AJ and us to do some of the things we hoped and planned to do, things that are impossible with Teddy in tow. We managed a hike up the side of the "mountain" that would have been impossible with no trail and Teddy on my back. AJ went through a box of matches and spent hours working on building fires from a flint and striker. We did some woodworking projects and cut plenty of firewood. 

This kid makes the best faces smooshed in the window.

AJ was initially in tears when our plans changed yet again, and my dad apologized profusely that the weekend didn't go as planned. I said it went how it went, and that was perfectly OK. When I asked AJ what the best part of the weekend was, his answer was "spending time with everyone." That wasn't part of the plan, yet it ended up topping his list (even though he carved a pumpkin with a machete). 

Still, I'm not going to lie. I'm disappointed I didn't get to check off one item on the wish list for the weekend: Sleep for 12 hours straight.

COVID Continues

You guys, normally I'm proud to be a Wisconsinite. We're the dairy state, so cheese and ice cream abound. We have four beautiful seasons (although winter sometimes wears out its welcome). We don't have nasty big critters like grizzly bears or panthers that want to eat us alive, nor do we have many smaller, nastier critters like poisonous snakes, scorpions or spiders. We're also Midwest nice, which means little things like holding doors for people, waving at neighbors (or anyone in rural Wisconsin), lending a helping hand and more.

Unfortunately, "more" doesn't include wearing masks (despite a state mandate), physical distancing or limiting our social gatherings. Wisconsin is breaking COVID records daily and weekly, topping national lists for hotspots, and we're feeling the impact. Our hospitals are enacting crisis plans as they're near or at capacity, our schools are closing their doors, and the impacts are close and personal.

Last week Oshkosh schools transitioned to virtual learning. That had no impact on us as AJ was already in virtual learning for the school year, and Teddy's 60 minutes a week are still intact for now. Last week our church did virtual sessions for catechism due to exposure. Again, that had no impact on us because AJ is doing a homestudy program, thankfully with my mom, via technology. See the pattern here of how we've intentionally reduced our interactions and risk?

Yet, despite all our efforts, COVID still impacts us. We have two in-home childcare providers that ensure the boys are alive and well while we work. We're extremely blessed to have two young ladies who are beyond wise for their years, care deeply for our children and take COVID very seriously. Still, two weeks ago, one of our providers tested for COVID, which meant she was unable to work until she was cleared ... and that we spent much of our time worrying until she was cleared. Ironically, the same day she was tested our other provider learned that her two roommates were both quarantined due to known exposure. Fortunately she hadn't had direct contact with them since their exposure, so she was still able to work but didn't have a good place to safely quarantine from her roommates. So, she temporarily moved in with us into our spare bedroom that was overran by AJ's LEGOs. 

Two of my my kids' favorite people. I think I like them even more than my kids.

It worked out remarkably well for us because all AJ's LEGOs were picked up, perhaps not perfectly, but the room actually had space to move around. Our provider had a safe place to quarantine, and our boys absolutely loved having some extra time with her in the evenings. I don't think Teddy fully realized that she was living here, as she would often intentionally "disappear" before bedtime to ease with that transition. The look on Teddy's face when she came upstairs in the morning was  priceless each time. We're grateful she was willing to take us up on our offer of a safe place to quarantine as it certainly made our lives easier.

We continue to be fortunate that most of our family and friends have been safe from COVID. The last few weeks have been stressful, but we'll deal with the inconveniences and the stress and remain grateful for our blessings. 

I Remember When 2 a.m. Was Bedtime ...

 ... a long, long time ago the semester I lived in Spain. Even when I returned stateside, I had no desire to be awake at 2 a.m. That hasn't changed in all the years since college as I firmly believe 2 a.m. is meant for sleeping.

Teddy, on the other hand, determined that 2 a.m. was the perfect time to wake up Sunday morning. We were at the land, and he began stirring and moving around. He was sleeping on the bed next to Dave, and I was on the couch.  I checked my watch and realized it was 2 a.m. and hoped he'd settle back to sleep quickly. Then I heard him cough and realized we had forgotten to bring his rescue medication for seizures down to the land. Immediately, my mind was wide awake piecing together that obviously since our childcare provider was being tested for COVID that Teddy was probably sick and that's why he woke up, he had a fever and would start seizing and determining which one of us would call 911 to get an ambulance to meet the other en route to the hospital 20 minutes away. All because of a single cough. I spent the next 30 minutes worrying about all of this for two reasons:

1. When your child has taken two ambulance rides due to seizures (one of them intubated), the fear of illness and the associated seizures is very real. We spend every winter on heightened alert because of flu season. We worry that when Teddy wakes up in the middle of the night that its because he's ill and has a fever. Trust me, there have been too many times he's woken up in the night for us to discover her with temps over 100. When you add in potential COVID exposure, your mind goes to bad places, no matter how much you rationalize that potential exposure as minimal. With all these fears, the obvious thing would be to check him for a temperature immediately, right?
2. Except for the fact that when Teddy wakes up in the middle of the night, he will not settle back down if you acknowledge you're awake. Once he realizes you're awake, then he wants to play. Or wake up everyone in the room. Or go for tractor rides. Or do anything but sleep.

At 2:30, I heard Dave give up and acknowledge he was awake. Then I spent the next 30 minutes trying to tell myself I could fall back asleep because Dave would check Teddy for signs of illness. Dave attempted to get Teddy to snuggle back to sleep to no avail. 

So at 3 a.m. Teddy and I headed out to the Tahoe. That might seem odd, but middle of the night drives are fairly common to get Teddy asleep or to occupy him while others are trying to sleep. We drove (often at idle speed) around the land, down the road to the county park and back around the land. After an hour of driving, I was hoping Teddy might be tired enough to sleep because I certainly was. I knew by the occasional giggle that he probably wasn't, but it was worth an attempt.

After 10-15 minutes of blatant disregard for sleep, Dave took Teddy back to the Tahoe. He put in a movie for Teddy to watch, reclined the seat and attempted to get some sleep. (I had offered to go put a movie on for Teddy in the vehicle, but I planned to lay down a seat, bring a sleeping bag and pillow and snooze with Teddy securely strapped in his carseat. (It's one of the few ways that Teddy is truly contained, so it would be safe to rest.) I got to go back to bed for a few hours, until I woke up at 7 a.m. and texted Dave that I could take over (out of a sense of obligation, not because I was well rested). He brought Teddy into our garage, and Dave got a couple more hours of sleep while the boys and I ate breakfast, went for ranger rides and even a short tractor ride. 

Teddy fared remarkably well that day, only a few minor meltdowns and some whining on the drive home. He was exhausted but had no desire to sleep until he finally crashed at 7:30 p.m. How that child can manage to be awake from 2 a.m. to 7:30 p.m. with no caffeine is beyond me ... heck, me being awake as much of that time as I was even with caffeine is beyond me. 

2 a.m. to 2 p.m. and going strong.