Blurry Fog

So much yet so little going on, all in a jumble.

Good news for Leelo: PAMPERS already approved him for a sleep clinic evaluation. He may not have any real sleep issues, but it will be nice to rule that one out. Did I mention that they also have an on-staff nutritionist, so I don't have to get a referral?

He has been having another good-ish episode, asking me to sit down and read books with him, really great eye contact, more chasing of Pat the Cat (tenaciously following Pat under the porch, etc.).

Meanwhile, he is still not giving a shit (pun ever so painfully intended) about potty training. Babysitter A, who has taken over a large part of this training, is starting to get frustrated. I told her not to let it get to her; I agree that he doesn't yet get the connection between his bodily functions and their non-apparel receptacles, but at least when the light does go off (and goddammit it will) he'll be well trained in what to do.

Before that happens, though, we need to find larger diapers, as he is busting out of size 6. The excellent local special needs email group directed me to a place to get diapers of all sizes. Eazy-Ups and GoodNightz were also recommended, with the caveat of costliness. Which makes me wonder--would he potty train instantly if I invested in a case of expensive diapers? That happens all the time with typical kids.

The same good online folks also referred me to two places to get ID bracelets for verbally impaired little boys who like to bolt in crowded public places.

Mali is still a wonder of a fantastic baby. She is now in the Holy Roller phase, flipping flipping everywhere she can--even while she's asleep. The babbling has ceased, which is odd, but may be because she needs all her energy for the rolling. She is otherwise very engaged and happy. Appears to have acquired a dislike for pears, judging by the expression on her face when I tried to feed them to her yesterday.

Iz is on an interesting cusp. She wore Leelo's Battman jammies to church on Sunday, but then was slightly embarrassed about doing so. Is complete and utter submission to peer pressure on its way? I hope not; I hope she's able to retain some of her fuck-you attitude. As long as it isn't completely directed at me.

I am very grouchily helping her out with her latest project, a hot air balloon. It is made out of tissue paper and has to be put together very carefully, lots of gluing and stages and waiting (from scratch, not a kit, grumble grumble grumble). The possibility of destruction, what with potential indadvertent delicate tissue paper adhesions and her destructicon of a brother lurking about, is wearing me down. I hope it works. It is blow-dryer powered! She insisted on bringing the science encyclopedia/project book from which it sprang to school today, even though it's written in English.

Great joy yesterday in that the caterpillar she and Seymour captured and then brought to her class turned into a beautiful butterfly, for all the other students to see.

Blah blah blah. That is how I both feel and write, today.

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