The Internet Is Up Again!

The latest victim of the "I had sex with my partner and then somehow found myself pregnant*" phenomena is Godmother Stacy. Those of you who track such things might recall that she has six-month-old twins. Twins who will be 13 months older than their currently fetal sibling. Eep.

Can't post anything longer; connection might disappear again. Will write, however, that I am typing this on the keyboard of the aforementioned MacBook Pro. And that it has been eight years since I last worked on a Mac and that reentry has been bumpy. "Quirky" would be a generous description of the interface. But PhotoBooth continues to keep small children occupied for hours, so I'll keep on.

*Past victims: JP, me, my OB/GYN.

Weekend Notes

F***ing internet connection and dying computer. Grrrr. Our CD/DVD burner died just after I downloaded a batch of ambient water/wind/soothing iTunes to burn for earbud-eschewing Leelo, our hard disk is failing, and we only get an internet connection one hour out of every 40 or so. Like now. It's enough to make a girl impulsively buy a MacBook Pro just because her autistic son liked the PhotoBooth app at the Apple store so much. In the mean time, do not rely on email for contacting me.

I can't reveal the latest gestator until Bad Moms' Coffee on Thursday. Sorry! Jo, increasing the intensity of your threats will not get me to 'fess up. I am under verbal contract.

Iz ran into our local state representative, 1Ra Rusk!n, at the Cafe on Saturday and was totally starstruck. She eventually worked up the courage to ask him for his autograph. He says he remembered her from his campaign two years ago! She was absolutely tickled.

Leelo has mostly been great lately, but last night had a manic attack that had him waking up laughing uncontrollably every half hour from 1:30 AM until morning. Of course, Seymour and I had been up talking until 1:00 AM.

Still, our guy has been doing really well at school and in his home program. And with us he's been going on successful two mile hikes. We've also discovered that our entire family of five can fit on our newish see-saw, which Leelo also thinks is fantastic.

Mali got plonked in the church nursery this weekend for the first successful time ever. One of the nursery volunteers was an early childhood education specialist, which was nice for Mali because she got the intense interaction she so infrequently gets at home, poor thirdling. This same ECE person accosted us after services, pronouncing Mali "gifted," and telling us that we needed to research giftedness and that she would be legally entitled to the same custom-tailored services as a child with a learning disability.

Nice to hear; if true it means we will most likely be able to put her on the same Trident Montessori --> Esperanza Spanish Immersion --> Big Noggin track as Iz, without missing Esperanza kindergarten and without fighting for her to be moved up a grade, as she is one week ahead of the age cutoff and therefore will be one of the very youngest kids in her grade anyhow.

Of course as Mali's proud parents we already know that our baby is the cutest and the smartest, just like your baby. When I hold up an item and ask what it is, Mali is likely to answer before her brother--but is that due to neurotypicality or precocity? I do think it's funny that she will identify letter-shaped objects, such as the buckles on her stroller: "F"! She fill-in sings the letters at the end of each Alphabet Song line.

And she is 17 months old today.

I am in a partial panic about the next few days. The Planets of Inconvenience have aligned, compelling all of the people who help out with Leelo as well as our saintly Thursday night babysitters to march out on vacation or to conferences at the same time. From Thursday morning until Tuesday morning, I will lack even a single speck of help with Leelo or any of the kids. My parents are in Portugal, Seymour's parents are in Mexico. Seymour himself will be working extra-long hours to write a critical grant.

Normally all this would make me proactively grumpy, but instead I am feelng strangely and defiantly competent.

Don't Hesitate

This is the latter half of my last! Iron Gate article for the year.

Recently, I was grumping to my ever-patient partner about a friend who has never invited our family over, even though our kids are the same ages, and even though her family visits our home frequently. I couldn’t understand how she could ignore our lopsided relationship. My partner sighed, and said, "She probably doesn’t invite us over because she doesn’t know how to invite Leelo over."

You may laugh when I write that this had never occurred to me, but it is true. And it got me to thinking that perhaps this awkwardness and hesitance is common. So, please, if you would like to socialize with a family that includes a special needs child, simply ask the parent how to go about it. Sometimes families like ours need to make special arrangements such as bringing along a babysitter or aide, and sometimes the thought of bringing our child into an unfamiliar environment is too overwhelming--but more often than not, we’d be delighted.

I am not fishing, by the way. Our social calendar would tire Madonna's nanny. But I will write that one of my happiest memories from this past year was being invited to a friend’s home for the first time, for a New Year’s Eve party--and then having another friend with a special needs child show up, too. We bid goodbye to 2005 just like any other family, and it was lovely.

After the IEP

The IEP went well. Incredibly well, though Supervisor M thinks they could have given us more ... p'raps a Pony Party? I jest, but since we had expected to have to go in swinging, I was shocked by the offerings. Here is what they agreed to provide before we even asked:

• Weekly 1:1 OT (1/2 hour, to start this Thursday. To increase as needed)
• Weekly 1:1 speech (to start as soon as they can find another vendor). As Leelo already gets speech 1x weekly with Sage, this fulfils our goal of 2x weekly speech
• Summer school placement in the SDC Behavioral program, with a 1:1 aide. They cannot officially call this class their Autism Program, but that's what it is.
• If they are not able to get the Summer program together (they do not yet have a teacher), then they will pay for ALSO summer school.
• Fall placement in the same SDC/Autism class, again with a 1:1 aide.
• A home behavioral program of up to 15 hours per week. If Supervisor M can get certified as a NPA (Non-Profit Agency) before this time, then we can use the funds to supplement the program we already have.

I was very pleased. The Special Ed folks were incredibly kind and helpful. I suspect they were relieved to deal with parents who were calm, accepting, informed, and appreciative (though still assertive). I can't even imagine what it must be like to fight for services while still going through the diagnosis/grieving period like so many others do.

Another suspicion is that we got so many services because they evaluated Leelo during the worst part of his Winter Crazies. Which mortified me at the time, but now strikes me as a very good thing.

Leelo's Latest Checkup

Silly me, I forgot that Leelo's Kindergarten entry forms included a medical statement that his doctor must fill out.

Off we went to the health center. I stripped Leo to his pullup so his pediatrician could survey the various ailments listed below. This made it really easy to gauge just how terrified he now is of She Who Burns Off Plantar Warts, because he got so hysterical when she entered the room that his entire body turned beet red. He kept muttering, "Back to the car...back to the car...back to the car" for the rest of the appointment--and the rest of the day.

This doesn't bode well for the TB test the school requires. But, still, his doctor was tenacious and so was able to examine him closely enough to determine that he is well and healthy, and to pass judgment on the following items:

1) The rash on his back is either slight eczema or a mild virus. Either way the treatment is to take shorter baths and use lots of lotion afterwards.

2) The bite on his side is healing, but not as quickly as it otherwise would. His doctor suspects folliculitis, which results from too-long baths. Again, shorter baths, plus neo- or polysporin.

3) Treatment on his plantar wart can't progress until we get the pad of dead skin off its top. She suggests cutting it off (yeah right); I think we will try a pumice stone approach. With one of us sitting on him.

4) His more frequent urination is unlikely to be due to a bladder infection. More likely he's becoming more aware of his body, and either likes the sensation or urination or dislikes the sensation of even a partially full bladder.

I think we will be submitting his kindergarten reg forms without the medical form, for now.

IEP in One Hour

Wish us luck! The meeting means I'm missing Bad Moms' Coffee on the day Elswhere appears, but alas.

You can spend the interim time wondering which of us has found herself three months pregnant.

Smoothie

Iz is desperate for a pet of her own. The Frantic Fish doesn't count, and neither does Pat the Cat. She wants a critter in her room.

I told her that she needs to demonstrate sufficient responsibility beforehand, as I am certainly not willing to add another item to my caretaking plate. I said that if she could keep a plant alive for a year, she would then qualify for pet ownership.

What kind of plant did she then request? Why, a carnivorous one, of course. We made our way to the wonderful East Bay Nursery in Bezerkely, where the knowledeable and helpful staffers talked her out of a Venus Flytrap (as they are annuals) and into a lovely pitcher plant.

After a nice long stop off at the East Bay Vivarium to look at potential future roommates (Iz: "A crocodile monitor is the biggest lizard in the world! It gets bigger than a komodo dragon! Can I have one? Well, then, can I have an emerald tree monitor? How about a chameleon?" Mali: "Toi-tul! Shhhnake!" Me: "Ooooh, your daddy and I used to have one of those, until we had children."), we then brought the plant home to repot it.

Iz has christened it Smoothie, as that is what it will make out of its bug victims.

Seymour Needs Advice

Did I mention that our internet connection has been spotty and mostly down for almost a week? Hence the flurry of posts--must get them out while I can. And if you're in real-world contact with me, don't rely on email just now.

At any rate, my dear partner and favorite cyclist Seymour recently got harrassed by a bunch of monkey boys in a truck. They drove up right behind him, leaned out of the truck, and hollered. He was so startled that he almost crashed. Then he became so livid that he would have torn their limbs off had they not the benefit of superior horsepower.

Seymour didn't get to accost them, but he did scrutinize their truck intensely, as he'd seen it in the neighborhood. He didn't actively search for it, but he did keep his eyes peeled.

Last week, he found it. He's since driven by several times to ensure that it is the same truck, and that it belongs to the adjacent home. Irony: the truck and all the cars attached to the house are covered with the local Fire Department's stickers.

What would you do? Seymour would like to let it go, but can't. I think he should write an anonymous letter detailing what was done and how dangerous it was, and send it to the house. Others have suggested calling the fire department. I am also a fan of paintballing, but think that--deeply satisfying as it might be--it is the riskiest approach. Opinions?

Mali Needs Music

Not my baby Mali. No. My Malian friend--the one who apparently named his baby after me--would like some contemporary music to shore up his aging collection. And no, I don't fucking mean Kenny G.

Send me your (favorite) iMixes and I'll buy them for him. Thanks.

Good Leelo Language

Naturalistic language from Leelo over the weekend:

During Church: "I want to go home, Mommy."

Re-entering church after mid-sermon park excursion: "I want to go to the car, Mommy."

Upon my leaving the house to run errands: "Come back, Mommy!"

All three phrases were new and spontaneous. We may never hear them again, but it was excellent to hear them at all. Perhaps in the future we may even hear spontaneous naturalistic language about things Leelo likes rather than things he dislikes.

The dreaded IEP is Thursday. Eeeeep. We have very good support in the form of Supervisor M (who will attend) and Sage, but I am still nervous. Even though I am the spoiled princess of Autism Parents Land (Leelo will always have support--whether it comes from the school district or his fairy grandparents).

I am starting to fret about our boy's summer school schedule. We'd thought he wouldn't need an aide for school as of the summer but that is looking less likely. His stim/sensory needs are still very intense, and I'm not certain we can address it sufficiently by the end of June. I hope Therapist Y has some time in his schedule.

Finally got around to filling out his district Kindergarten paperwork with the intention of turning it in this afternoon, only to discover a previously unnoticed medical form that must be filled out by his doctor. Who didn't have availability until Wednesday. But hey, maybe we can freeze of more of that huge tenacious plantar wart, and get his urine checked to see if a bladder infection could explain why he's not able to hold his pee for even an hour when he's been doing 90+ minute intervals for weeks.

Mali Riding a Rocket

Someone punched the button that transformed Mali into a real little person over the past week. This is oh-so-reassuring. I clearly remember Iz rounding this corner; it was a particularly joy-filled phase of parenting. Leelo approached the corner but then turned and ran in the other direction.

Mali's biggest changes are in the way she combines verbal and body language to communicate--she's simply not baby-like any longer, especially her facial expressions. Though I can't see the body language in the middle of the night when she murmurs, "Mama...? Nurse? Nurse?"

Yesterday she clicked onto the fact that "M-A-L-I spells...?" should be followed by shouting, "Ma-ee!" and pointing to her chest. When she sees her name, she says it. When she sees other words, she names letters. Conditioning rather than anything else, most likely.

She knows how to knock on doors. Not just slapping the door with an open hand, but rather rapping with her knuckles. I have no idea how she figured this out; I am guessing from observation.

She adores her friends, especially Merlin, whom she chases around while squeaking, "Hi Muryin! Hi Muryin! Hi Muryin!"

She likes to find writing implements and draw on walls. She also automatically places any stray socks in the cat's water bowl.

I am not pleased that she is still nursing two-three times a day, and insulted that she will sometimes ask for water afterwards. I am downright pissed that she won't fall asleep unless I'm in the bed nursing her, most nights.

She has one hell of a temper. Oh my. But she is the most fun baby to goof around with, ever, when she's chipper--which is most of the time.

Her standout characteristic, to me, is that she is proactive rather than reactive like her siblings. She makes her own fun, and figures things out on her own. I had heard that children were capable of independent thought and play but have never before witnessed the phenomena.

Summarized: Mali is an ideal third baby. I feel very blessed. We didn't know we were entering the cakewalk, but as of now we're licking icing off of our fingers.