Néctar de los dioses
Wyoming came over us like a tropical storm tonight, intent on raiding our prickly pear patch. We didn't have all that many fruits this year, so she compensated for making off with the entire crop by cooking us dinner (nopales, por supuesto). Then she whipped up fresh pr!ckly pear margar!tas. Drool, drool, quaff, then fall over drunk. Divine.
No ascorbic acid for 24 hours now, and Leelo seems to be coming down. He was only semi-crazy today, and his work sessions were short, but when he was focused he was doing wonderful work and speaking well. We also cut off the magnesium glycinate for now since it contains sucralose and we think it contributed to the regression.
Tomorrow is Leelo's 10 week program eval (amazing that his full-blown ABA program has only been in place that long). We will be discussing preschool options then. I'd really prefer for him to attend a regular preschool with an aide, but I may be kidding myself on that one. He is not a compliant boy in group settings; six months in his small-group language school and he still doesn't really get their highly structured and consistent circle time. He may need to stay in a communication-focused school for now.
Iz is all riled up about something. It may be all the attention Leelo got for the photo shoot yesterday, even though JM was stealth photojournalist guy. Seymour said she's expressed some worries about being orphaned. This, along with some other hints she's dropped, has made me realize that she's plowing though the books at her school, absorbing all sorts of stories without her control freak mom monitoring content (the school has a lot of crappy, useless Disney and other Brand books). Spent some time tonight discussing how many stories (Cinderella, etc.) have many different tellings, and that the Disney one is usually simpler and happier and possibly lamer than the others. I can only wonder what else she's wondering about.
Regardless, she's having deliberate accidents in this her third year of being toilet trained, which is what she does when she's not getting a high enough dose of attention. So I read her an entire Eloise story as a bedtime treat, even though I'd rather have a sander strapped to my head (Eloise is fun to read silently and a massive pain to read out loud). Tomorrow I will be the Good Mom who doesn't yell and who listens with all her heart and who achieves all this by virtue of a healthy dose of quality sleep for the first time in weeks.