Wanna Make a Bet?

Leelo's party is tomorrow. Normally I would make some sort of coloring book or activity book to hand out to partygoers, but this pregnancy carpal tunnel situation is so bad that it hurts to hold a hairbrush, let alone a pen. So intead, you are all getting minimally illustrated CDs of Leelo's favorite songs. And yes, they're pretty much all the same songs you got last year for Iz's party, but these are the songs Leelo sings and asks for right now, and the specific mix makes him one happy (if runny-nosed and completely loopy) little boy.

Plus, now I have a cold. Which, under normal circumstances, means I crawl into my bed and hide. Not gonna happen. Sigh.

To distract you from my pathetic mewling, you could always try placing a wager on the thirdling's arrival. Click on the picture of my big fat belly at right to put in your marker.

Big Fat Ugly Pregnant Lady

Note: I tried to publish this twice already today, but Blogger kept barfing.

Although I am not ready to be done because my house is a wreck and we still have to get through Leelo's birthday party this weekend, I am soooooo ready to be done.

For some reason, the people from whom we purchased our home installed floor-to-ceiling mirrors on our bedroom closet doors. I accidentally got a full-length view of my naked bulbous body yesterday, and screamed out loud. Gaaaaah!

My nose is a giant blob. My complexion looks like someone tried to attack me with a fine-gauge cheese grater, or a rasp. My hands have suddenly inflated, meaning that the rings I could easily take off two weeks ago were removed only after a ten-minute soak in cold water, an application of oil, and a lot of painful tugging. Most of my shirts and pants no longer meet in the front. My cervix, apparently, is already open, not because I'm dilating, really, but according to my OB "because you've already had a lot of kids."

Bah.

Anyhow, if anyone wants to start making bets on arrival times, I suspect Jo would be more than willing to act as bookie. I am going to bet on the day before Thanksgiving, Nov. 24, seven days before the actual due date of Dec. 1. My rationale being that Iz was 13 days early and Leelo was 10 days early.

Anyhow. Off to coffee.

BTW: things are getting fiery in the comments for yesterday's Suspira entry. Check it out.

At Least...

Ira Ruskin won. Although Iz will be bittersweetly happy because this means he'll not be coming back to the cafe any time soon. She really wanted to meet him.

Suspira

Sigh. I know that a state's showing up on the electoral map as red doesn't mean that everyone in that state voted for those fuckers, but JESUS CHRIST. I can't believe that people are so scared that they're willing to sacrifice their children's future, especially that of their girl-children. I guess, like I've been told and suspected many a time, our little Californian island of liberal daydreams is not connected to most of the rest of the country.

Anyhow. A bit of levity on this otherwise depressing morning:

Iz: "Mommy, why is it so funny that you're a nun for Halloween when you're pregnant?"

Me: "Well, Iz, nuns are supposed to be celibate. So they usually don't get pregnant, because they're not supposed to have sex."

Iz: (not knowing how the word is spelled), "That must be why they call them 'nones!'"

Grateful

Tomorrow Iz's godmother Stacy is throwing me a baby shower. This is already altruism incarnate, but if you consider that she and her partner have been trying to get pregnant for 18 months, well, I just don't know what to say. Good thing she's a practicing Catholic with a fighting chance for canonization.

In the mean there are people in every room of my house. And I have pregnancy insomnia. This means my options this morning from 5 (when I woke up) to 8 (when everyone else woke up) were limited to:

-Folding laundry in the bathroom
-Taking a bath. Which is nice, but gets old after an hour or so.
-Sitting at Iz's tiny desk putting together the Leelo's Day books that were promised to folks LAST CHRISTMAS. This was possible because Leelo had snuck into our bed with Seymour, and Iz could sleep through an air raid. Although to get all the materials together I had to be stealthy and and raid two other rooms where people were dozing away.

Time for a nap.

Glory

I have been reveling in the simplicity and delight of manning only one child this week.

Not that I don't miss Iz. But the house is blessedly quiet, and there are no 8 A.M. school drop offs or extra lessons to shuttle her to or hours-long homework sessions to shoehorn in this week.

Leelo is enough to deal with. His schedule and school/lesson shuttling needs are wearing, especially when I'm still doing my mandatory one-week vacation recovery shtick.

The additional needs of full nesting mode do not exactly help me recharge my energy reserves: "This baby cannot come into a house where the carpets are not steam-cleaned! We will proceed to rearrange every item, large and small, in the entire house!"

Leelo, however, could care less about my extreme tiredness, and decided to visit another nighttime shitstorm upon us the evening before last. This time he covered not only his bed, but the carpet, chairs, and many toys with filth. I don't think the mess was deliberate; I think he stepped in it and then proceeded to be his usual crazy dervish self. Miraculously, his diaper and pajamas were carefully laid to the side, and absolutely clean.

I tried to be chirpy and point out to Seymour that this is an indicator of increasing potty awareness--some autistic kids never learn to care about sitting on a pile of poo--but he was wrestling a very dirty Leelo to the bath at the time and didn't really want to hear it.

Supervisor M thinks that it would help if we incorporate potty training into his night time routine, and read him his bedtime stories while he's on the pot. One more thing for our schedule...

I'm sure I'll appreciate Iz when she returns tomorrow. Though it probably earns me a special place in hell (as does the nun costume I wore to Leelo's school Halloween party today), I am less than enthusiastic about her traveling entourage, which includes only her grandparents, but also baby Picard and his parents--all of whom will be staying at our house for several days. If anyone needs me, I'll be hiding in my closet.

Iz tidbit, which I keep forgetting to post:

Grandma was quizzing her about politics. She asked, "So, Iz, do you know who our Vice President is?"

Iz said, "Yes, Dick Cheney."

My mom beamed.

After another beat, Iz said, "He's insane!"

Medical Updates. Fascinating Stuff!

Even though such entries were already spotty and rare, do not expect to read another word on this site that would qualify as ruminations. Nope. No literature, politics, no analyses of my friends. Too preoccupied. Just blow-by-blow facts from here on out.

Tuesday (two days ago) was a big med visit day for both me and Leelo.

First we went to my OB. I was 35 weeks as of that day, and now need to see her every week. I'm guessing the next visit is when all the coochie-poking for dilation and effacement begins. Fark.

I also lost three pounds, probably from all that D-land walking and also from skipping my customary Thursday morning cafe omelette plate, but my doctor is not worried.

She did take time out to ask me what I thought about vaccines and autism, and to point out that Dr. Wakefields's MMR research was based on a very small study. Smile, nod.

Leelo came with me because he had an ENT appointment right afterwards and so had already had to cancel his morning ABA session. He is now so terrified of doctors that he started crying when the nurse took my blood pressure. Poor bit. When we got to his ENT's office, he became almost hysterical and wouldn't let me take him out of his stroller--instead, he kept buckling himself back in (and it's a tricky buckle--good fine motor work!).

I had thought we were at the ENT's office merely to pluck out his remaining ear tube. Turns out that it's too deeply embedded and needs to be removed surgically. Another huge long hospital visit. AIIIGH. I am hoping that we can get this scheduled in the next three weeks, otherwise I'll need to send Seymour.

Poor Scabby

Why would anyone be so cruel as to name their cat Scabby, you ask?

Well, were you to be in my house during the Fall allergy attack season, and see the scab-riddled tumbleweeds of cat fur that our poor kitty is leaving everywhere, then you'd understand. It is disgusting.

We have tried everything to help alleviate her itchy skin. She is so neurotic that any kind of topical treatment (baths, creams, etc.) is seen as an attack, and results in a psychosomatic cascade of even more scratching. We even spent several years giving her allergy shots. Nothing has helped.

She just saw the vet two weeks ago, when she only had a few minor gashes. The vet was relieved; she thought that this might be the year Scabby wouldn't have to go on steroids and antibiotics in order to survive her allergies. But then we went on vacation, and send her kitty neuroses into a tailspin.

It helps greatly if she gets an excess of calm, quiet snuggling and petting, but neither Seymour nor I enjoy fondling scabs.

Poor, poor kitty. She has been like this for the entire nine years since we adopted her.

Neurology Results

Report back from the Neurologist's office:

Blood/Urine tests for metabolic and amino acid irregularities:
Negative. No abnormalities.

MRI for tumors, "dead" spots, overgrowth of white matter, myelination problems:
Negative. No abnormalities.

EEG for occasional 2-3 second "blanking out" episodes:
Abnormal. Weird spikes in the electrical activity in the front of the brain during sleep.

What does this mean:
The good doctor says that, were Leelo not autistic, he would want to put him on anti-seizure medications. However, since he is autistic, and since his symptoms do not interfere with his daily functioning, the agony of trying to dose the boy is not worth it. If Leelo's episodes increase from a few times a week to daily or more, though, the doctor will want to see us again.

Other than that, Leelo has no further neurology needs.

We asked the doctor if the EEG spikes were typical of autistic kids. The doctor said that he has seen this pattern before, and that it may be indicative of further electrical imbalances in the brain that we don't have the technology to detect at this point. He also said that, in a lot of his autistic patients' cases, every single one of the tests that they ran on Leelo comes back negative.

The doctor did ask us if Leelo is always as hyperactive as he was during the office visit. When we said that Leelo is on fire like that all day long, the doctor suggested that we might want to consult with our pediatrician or a psychiatrist about ADHD meds before Leelo enters kindergarten.

This is a path we've not yet explored. I would be interested to hear of anyone else's experiences with hyperactive autistic children and calming meds. I don't want to dope the boy up, but I also understand that if Leelo's general demeanor continues to be that of an absolute spaznoid, then we will have quite a difficult time trying to mainstream him into a public kindergarten--assuming that will be an option in two years.

Other findings:
Leelo is 40 inches and 41 lbs. He has grown two inches and gained three pounds since July 30 of this year. Now he is more rectangular than square. Perhaps it's time to use something less rich than cheesy puffs as reinforcers during ABA.

General Leelo stuff:
His eye contact and receptive language have been really great lately. He is following umpteen zillion directions consistently, except when he gets really, really spazzy.

After only a few tries and fusses, he is now willing and able to wear his backpack on the walk from the car to his school. He needs more practice to put it on his peg on the wall when he gets there, but all in time.

His fine-motor coordination is really improving. He can now take off any pair of socks, even tight ones that require over-the-heel fidgeting. He can and did disassemble the window lock assemblages at my parents' place over the weekend.

Back(logged)

We are back and severely backlogged, so briefly:

Today at 2:00 Seymour and I get to find out what, if any, results came from Leelo's blood, urine, EEG, and MRI tests through Stanffford's pediatric neurology department.

Many fun and fabulous things happened on our vacation, but a late standout was the discovery of an Indian Restaurant open 7 days, 10 to 10, right on the I-5 Butttonwillow stop. Adjacent to a drive-through Starbook's! (S.B. being unacceptable under normal circumstances, but tolerable when it's either that or falling asleep at the wheel--although if you know of an decent alternate drive-through coffee option in Butttonwillow then I'm all eyes.)

Butttonwillow (2 hrs north of El Lay, 4 hrs south of Deadwood) already had a squooshy place in my heart because it was the first place my dad would let us stop on all those road trips from Anasleim to British Columbia. But now I love it even more--I can either caffeinate there without unloading all the screaming kids from the car, or get a good, non-fast food meal for everyone in the family (Leelo will only eat out at Indian restaurants). Rah Butttonwillow!

Miss Iz already, though. She'll be back on Friday.

Dizzying

Off to D-land tomorrow. Why oh why did I not remember that I had an Iron Gate meeting this evening, and am working in the Iron Gate scullery tomorrow morning? (Many thanks to Badger for watching Iz as I toil at Leelo's school.) Sigh. As I told MB this afternoon, I get a special one-time caffeine dispensation in order to deal with the next 24 hours.

Iz and I will leave tomorrow as soon as Therapist L arrives at 12:30. Theoretically. We will pilot our new van--the innumerable controls of which we've yet to wrap our minds around--to the home of Seymour's El Lay brother James and his family. Dinner at The Cuban Palace on Venice (Giddy and Dee, salivate away). D-land the next day, followed by dinner at The Cheapest Mexican Restaurant on Earth (Giddy and Dee, that's another salivation cue). My brother and partner will meet us there, and I will happily unload the eight huge boxes of crap my sibling has been stashing in our garage for the past three years. Then we will pick up Leelo and Seymour from the airport. Another day of carefully marketed happiness at D-land will follow. Then to my parents' the next day, where we will happily unload Iz for a week. Then back home the next. Talk to you then.

P.S. Thanks also to Jo for keeping the fish and cats alive while we're gone.