Parent Observation Day

Today was parent observation day.  A day to go into school and see what my son's day is like.  I came out of it excited and terrified all at the same time. 

I love the teaching methods being used as they really seem to be speaking to Dylan.  However, his sensory seeking is off the hook.  I was happy to see one of the aids get and put his vest on him but it did take a while for her to pick up his cues.  Now, I know, I'm his mother and I can sense his seeking before he actually does it but he's having behavior issues that are tied to his SPD & CAPD.  If they aren't properly managing both, he's going to have increasing problems.

Now, we do have parent teacher conferences next month so I'm going to wait till then to address it. I did call his teacher out though. Yesterday we got a note home that he had a rough day. He refused to come in from recess. I emailed her and asked her what was their action plan as they have had this happen before with him. Her response was that she'd talk to the OT. WTF - the OT isn't going to do what I told you to do months ago which is to set up his expectations daily before the troublesome activity. "Dylan, we are going outside for recess. What do you need to do when I call you? Come In? Yes, thank you". That's all it takes for him to comply. When I pressed her on it she admitted that the class was a bit off because of her and her staff being sick and they didn't set him up properly yesterday. Great, you give him a time out for something you could have avoided. Nice.

It was nice to see him in speech therapy and in OT. Kid gets a little massage before each session. Lucky!!! We had a great session with our therapist last night and he gave a great example of central auditory processing delay.

You work in the city. You come up from the subway and a big bus flies down the street 3 feet away from you. You barely even register it as you are used to it. Your mind tells you it's nothing to worry about.

You aren't a city person but are there on business. You come up from the subway and a big bus flies down the street 3 feet away from you. You jump back in surprise and fear. Your brain isn't used to it and kicks in your fight or flight.

These are examples of prioritizing. Your brain tells you when something is important and when it's not. Even though Dylan had to deal with a time out yesterday, his brain will still not prioritize his teacher calling him in from recess because it doesn't process that way. He's not being defiant. This is happening on a neurological and even cellular level. CAPD is going to be a hard nut to crack.

Entitlement and parenting

Yesterday, while waiting for the train, I notice two adorable, fashionably (expensive) dressed little girls.  They were about 5 and 8 and waiting for the train with their mother.  Now, I like to ride in the first car so that was the area I was waiting in.  The train arrives and a crowd gathers where the doors are about to open.  As they open, the little darlings literally threw themselves through the crowd, knocking me and two other women to the side, yelling "outta the way!" and ran up to the seats by the front window.  ~insert jaw drop here~

The mother, who witnessed this entire thing, said nothing to her little angels.  One woman who got pushed told the girls they weren't nice and they just (of course) rolled their eyes at her.


They then proceeded to sit in their seats with their feet on the window of the train.  Again.... Mom said not a word.

Can I get a WTF here please?  Had this been 30+ years ago, the car would be bloody from the beating my mother would have given me for such behavior.  Had this been Dylan behaving in such a manner, after apologizing personally to ever individual he pushed, his little butt would be in the back of the car.

I try to practice attachment parenting which includes gentle discipline.  However, I have discovered, like all parenting styles, there are those "fringe" elements.  Within the gentle parenting community there are parents who believe that punishment and consequences are not gentle and therefore should not be used.  Again, get I get a WTF!  How the hell do kids learn boundaries without consequences?   How can you administer consequences without punishing a child?  Now, punishment doesn't mean physical violence.  I don't believe hitting accomplishes anything but sending a wrong message to children and making them fearful.  At least, that's what it did for me.

So tell me wise internet....  What did these girls learn today.  If their mother practices this no consequence parenting style (which I'm assuming based on her reaction to her children's behavior), what message did she send them?  That it's okay to knock over adults in order to get what you want?   Charlie suggested I wish them well in prison which was great but I got the facebook message as the girls were getting off the train.

Therapy

We see a behavioral therapist.  We discovered early on that two incredibly different parenting styles + one incredibly intelligent, manipulative little boy = a lot of headaches and heartache.  So... we found a therapist who not only treats Dylan but treats us as well. 

Man, he really can call us on our shit when warranted. He can also be incredibly supportive and gives amazing  parenting techniques and ideas. The result has been we are coming together to parent more. I have to learn to back off and Marc needs to learn to step up. We both want to do what's best for Dylan so we are learning and it's working for all of us. Problem is... he's crazy expensive. But as I've said in the past, I'd sell myself in order to continue seeing him. He's that good.

I will say that he worried us a bit. He seemed surprised that Dylan sleeps about 11.5 to 12 hours on average. He said that while it works for us now, as he gets older, developmentally, he's going to want to stay up later. I don't see that happening any time soon (he says next year but I think it may be longer). But he seemed very concerned about the amount he sleeps. Now it's got my brain going. I'm wondering if I should call his pediatrician and discuss it with her. Right now, I'll just sit with it. He's always been a fantastic sleeper. Most parents would kill for their kids to go to bed at 7:30 p.m. every night right?

SHE'S BACK!!!

Baggage & Bug are back!!!

~doing happy dance~

Update on spidey sense and a small milestone

I emailed the teacher.  She was out sick Monday and Tuesday and Wed wasn't quite right yet.  The schedule has been off so that would explain why Dylan is off. Okay onto the milestone :) Last night, around 7:15 p.m. Dylan came up to me, placed my hand on his face for some face squishes and said "Mommy, I tired, I go to bed". ~waits for everyone to get over their jealousy~ I said fine, took him upstairs, got him washed, brushed and into PJ's and then it was off to bed. I snuggled with him for a few minutes, came downstairs at 7:35 p.m. and announced "he's out!". He's getting better and better at self regulating whether it's sleep, eating or sensory.

My Spidey Sense Is Tingling

GAH! I hate it when this happens. I feel that something is off with Dylan. I can't place it. I think his teacher may have been out this week as nothing has been touched in his book bag all week with the exception of Monday and Wednesday. Wednesday we just got a positive behavior report and that's it. Nothing is written in his work book. No speech work nothing.

He also seems a bit off. Like something isn't right. This morning he said he didn't want to go to school until I told him it was Shabbat (he loves Shabbat).

I really hope it's nothing but it's quite rare that my intuition says something is off and it's not.

!#$@#@! Insurance

Our new insurance policy begins next month.   Unfortunately, Dylan's therapies are still not covered.  But some of our copays have gone down (yay), well visits are now copay free (yay) but my cost of insurance is up by almost $90 and... my beloved gastocrom is going from $40 for a 2 week supply to $70 ~thud~. I'm going from spending $1,040 for Gastocrom a year (approx) to $1,820 a year.

Where the hell is my health insurance reform. Dylan and my medical bills are absolutely crippling us financially.

I tried to go without gastocrom. I weaned myself off of it and have gone a few weeks without taking it. I've been flushing daily even though I'm taking my aspirin (I flush due to an extremely high progestaglandarin D2 level). My brain fog is terrible. I can't keep a straight thought in my head. I hate to say this but I really need this medicine but it's so fargin expensive it drives me batty.

Of course, the only population (that I'm aware of) that uses this medicine in this form is the Mastocytosis sufferers. Guess they know they have a captured audience so they can change whatever the hell they want. However, I shouldn't bitch too much, I do have insurance and it does cover the med. For that I am grateful.

Just watch this... please

Thanks to Dad Gone Mad

Singing

Yesterday, Dylan got himself into a snit.  After a warning or two, I sent him to his room to cool off.  I went up about 5 minutes later and I could hear him singing to himself "show me the way to go home". 

Drama

Last Monday - at Dylan's after school care - the woman went on and on about how adorable and sweet he is.

Last Friday - at Dylan's after school care - the woman told me that Dylan slapped another boy. We talked to him about it.

We reminded him over the weekend that hands are not for hitting, we don't hit our friends, etc. This past Monday - nothing. This past Tuesday - at Dylan's after school care - the woman told me that he is hitting the kids, interfering with their games and that this may not be the right program for him. I tried to explain his needs but she didn't want to hear it. She made it very clear to me that in order for her and her staff to properly care for Dylan and his classmates, they would actually have to do something besides sit on the bench and hope the kids don't kill each other and she wasn't willing to do that. We asked him why he was hitting the kids and he said in sad little voice "Mommy, they won't play with me". ~insert knife in Mommy's heart~

Fine.

Yesterday, called Dylan's old day care to see if they had openings. CHECK!

Yesterday, called the district's transportation department and arranged for a bus to pick him up in the a.m. from the house. CHECK!

Yesterday, called Dylan's old day care to verify they got the information and make sure they were ready to roll. CHECK!

Yesterday, called the after school people and told them Dylan won't be back and why. They thanked me for being professional in my delivery of the news (I guess they get a lot of screaming parents). CHECK!

Called Marc and let him know that Dylan starts back to old day care... Thursday. Yep - got it done in one day! ~doing the happy Mommy dance~

So... instead of Dylan being stuck in a big all purpose room (nightmare for kids with auditory processing and sensory disorders), he'll be in a wonderful place where he can go swimming, play basketball and gaga (Israeli dodge ball), continue to learn about Judaism, and be in an inclusive environment. YAY

Back To School Night

Tonight is back to school night. We get to hear presentations from the principal and others from the school, meet with his teacher, her aids and the therapists who work with Dylan daily and get to meet the rest of the parents of the kids in the room.  I'm really looking forward to it.  Dylan, in just the few weeks he's been in Kindergarten has been doing incredibly well.  His speech has been improving daily - coming home with new words (he currently likes to call things strange), his behavior is getting better and more age appropriate.  We are just thrilled. 

Of course... I could have lived without hearing that he slapped a kid yesterday at after care.  I asked him why and he said the boy wouldn't play with him.  ~sigh~  We talked about keeping his hands to himself.  Hopefully he gets it.

Like speaks to like

Last night, we had the pleasure of attending a birthday party for one of Dylan's classmates. The family lives about 5 minutes from us and has 4 boys. Dylan's classmate is the youngest of the bunch (oldest 16) and is as sweet as the day is long. There were about 4 other children in attendance which was a nice easy number for all the kid to manage.  

The birthday boy is older than Dylan (Dylan's class is Kindergarten through 2nd Grade).  I asked the other Moms of the older boys "is the teacher as amazing as I think she is?"  I got the same response from all.... "no... she's better".

One boy was there with his grandmother.  When we sang Happy Birthday, it triggered an auditory sensory response and he had his ears covered.  No biggie - we all get it.  I don't think Grandmom realized that and was trying to push his hands down.  I just wanted to walk over and let her know that it's okay - we all get it.

Marc and I did a great job (if I do say so myself) parking the helicopter for the night.  It was hard.  They have a trampoline in the back yard, no net, the metal bars weren't covered well and it was ripping in some parts.  Dylan had a blast jumping off of it.  Oy.

One of the boys has cerebral palsy.  His mother obviously allows him to decide what he can and can't do.  He wanted to go on the trampoline with the boys and she picked him up and put him up there.  The boys did lower their level of insanity a touch but they rough housed with him and he loved it.  At one point, the birthday boy stood up and the little guy clothlined him and knocked him right on his butt.  The parents were hysterical!  We laughed a lot last night.  It was so nice.

Tomorrow is back to school night.  We get to meet with his teacher and, hopefully, his speech and OT therapists.

Understanding stuff

I am currently reading Like Sound Through Water by Karen Foli. It's a story of a mother and her journey to discover her son has an auditory processing disorder. This book has been very difficult to read. It's very well written. But it hits home at every turn. When she speaks of her knowing something isn't right and being told by her husband that their son will be fine and will catch up eventually I felt that knife turn. When she speaks of the pain of reading that first test result where her son's testing is so very low and her agony and confusion. Gd I could have written a lot of this book.

So... it's slow going. I read, I get choked up and put it down. However, I have to get my ass in gear because it's a library book. Actually, I took out three books. All about various disorders that Dylan has been diagnosed with or is suspected of having. My Mom is giving me grief that I need to stop reading but I'm learning. As I learn, his behaviors make more sense. The more they make sense, the less stressed out I get over his actions. She doesn't get that though and that's okay.

Kindergarten is going well. I love his teacher and his therapists. They have been great with communicating with us and Dylan is really enjoying himself. I was a bit concerned with the after care but now I'm a little more relaxed. I've gotten to know the care givers and he's got himself a few girlfriends to play with (yes, they are about 8-10 years old). He's quite the Romeo my boy. His teenage years are going to be very interesting indeed!

Show me the way to go home...

Dylan loves music in all it's forms. I've sung to him since he was a baby. The first song he ever "sang" was Rainbow Connection and then he just would pipe up with words at the right time. He loves to strum his guitar and sing songs, usually making up words when he can't remember the right ones (which we love) but he never sang WITH me. That was... until the other day. I was driving home, singing "show me the way to go home", you know, from the Jaws movie, when all of a sudden, he starts to sing WITH me. OMG it was so much fun! Then I realized... his first song that he sings correctly and with me... is a drinking song. Yeah, pass me the mother-of-the-year award. heheheh Now we sing together every night on the way home. I'm sitting at my desk at work thinking about what songs we can sing on the way home. I love that he loves music so much. He also loves shows. My MIL took him to his first live production. It was "If You Give A Mouse A Cookie". He loved it. Sat through it with very little fidgeting at all. At summer camp, his advocate loved the days when the older kids would put on a show. It was guaranteed that Dylan would enjoy seeing whatever production they put on.

~spit~

That's what Dylan did at lunch yesterday. He spit into the food. I don't know if it was the food for everyone or just his own but ewwwww. I emailed his teacher this a.m. apologizing for his behavior, letting her know we addressed it at home (no punishment as he was given a time out at school) and asked her if she knew what may have caused him to do that. It's very out of character for him. He did it once before at day care and we know it was a frustration thing. Her response made me adore her even more. She said that she was thinking about it last night and thinks it was a sensory thing. He was pulling at his tongue before it happened and had licked the table ~insert confused face here~ prior to his spitting. She'll talk to his OT today to make sure that he's getting the appropriate amount of oral stimulation he needs. I have been told, by a few parents, that it gets harder as the kids get older to get the right services for children with special needs. All I know is what I have now and let me tell you, it rocks my world.

Overwhelmed

Last week, we had our final testing at the audiologist's office. Dylan's behavior therapist, Mr. D., feels that contrary to what his developmental pediatrician thinks, we are looking at a central auditory processing disorder (CAPD) vs. your run-of-the-mill ADHD. We found an audiologist who would see us since most won't touch a kid for CAPD until they are at least 7 (not mature enough to handle the testing which requires they sit for long periods of time and attend to tasks). Well, this audiologist (top in her field) does the testing in small bits so she was able to fully test him over 3 visits and the outcome was.... he has CAPD. Challenge is, she really can't give him that diagnosis for at least a year and be taken seriously but we know and we can now work towards helping him. Except, nothing really helps. That's what Mr. D told us. Mr. D, in addition to being a therapist, also has a child with CAPD. He's done it all. He's tried it all. He said we basically need to stay on him to keep trying and keep working his butt off in school. It's going to get harder because he's not going to want to always work hard so it's our job to keep him on task. David used the "d" word last night. As in "your son is disabled". I am really struggling with this. I mean look at him, he's strong, he's healthy, he's smart. How can you call this child disabled. But he is. I know that but it's killing me.

It's been a while

Is anyone still out there? Sorry it's taken me a year to write but damn life has been busy. I read back over last year's posts and laughed when I read in February 2009 I posted that Dylan had "a bit of a speech delay". Turns out it wasn't that simple. He has a severe speech delay. He also has dyxpraxia, sensory processing disorder, central auditory processing disorder, static encephalopathy, and possibly ADHD (you don't need me to post a link to that one do you?). I have spent a good chunk of my free time reading up on each of these disorders to ensure that we are doing everything we can to ensure that Dylan will have a productive school and home life. I've found the more I understand these delays, the more I understand his behavior. Also, seeing a behavioral therapist helps tremendously (anyone in NJ who needs a recommendation - let me know). I have also taken up sewing. I made Dylan a quilt ~insert puffed chest~ and am in the planning stages of making one for my Mom and Sister. We are financially strapped so buying the material is just going to have to wait. Between paying for Dylan's day care the past few years and the private therapy, let's just say that McDonald's is gourmet night out. Blech. We are on the right path though, we are working with a financial guy to get our bills down. Hopefully, we'll see some light at the end of this tunnel in the next few years. So.... how are you???

4 Years ago

Dylan was born. 4 years ago today I was in Boston, staying with our dear friends Andy and Lori just waiting. Waiting to become a mother. 4 years ago today, in Guatemala, a wonderful woman gave birth to the boy who would become my son. She has been on my mind a lot today. I wonder about her and how she is. I would love to reach out to her but my fear (and Marc's fear) is that we will hurt her by contacting her. I don't know. It's amazing how much has changed in 4 years. He's all boy now. No more infant, no more toddler - all boy. Running, jumping, playing. He's skinny because he'd rather play than eat (a skill Marc and I are trying to master). He loves to explore the world around him. He loves to be active. He's a great eater and a wonderful sleeper. He's still my baby and lets me hold him and rock him to sleep. These days I think it's more for me than for him. He talks up a storm and is becoming more independent. Today Marc and I are working a half a day, picking up Dylan from Camp and heading to the beach.

URGENT! Prayers Needed!

My dear friend Kim, after a very difficult pregnancy, had a beautiful baby girl. Ellie needed a shunt put into her brain so yesterday they did the surgery. After the surgery she was doing well but ended up having to be put on a ventilator.

Please keep little Ellie in your prayers (good thoughts/good vibes, etc.)

Michael Jackson

Yeah, I know, not something you'd ever think you'd see here. However, I am saddened by his loss. He, like Farrah, was a huge part of my childhood. I remember going to USA Skating to see the premier of Thriller. I loved his music, his moves, his talent. When the accusations came out that he had molested those kids... part of my childhood was lost. Because of his wealth, he could easily buy his way out of the situation. Did he? We'll probably never know the truth. Part of me wants to believe he was the victim of his fame and that he only wanted to be a friend to all of the children in his world.

I guess you're wondering why I'm blogging about it. The latest "news" to come out is that Michael may not be the biological father of his children. That he may have used a sperm donor. What is bothering me is the fact that the media is claiming Jackson not real father of his children. That "Surprise! Michael Jackson's children look nothing like him!

To all the rags printing this garbage... WHO THE FUCK CARES? He is their father. He has been the man raising them and these poor children are mourning the loss of their father. Not a stranger. Why is it necessary to point out they don't look like him. I know plenty of children who don't look like their parents (and yes, they are biologically related).

The adoption community faces this fight day after day. Just because Dylan is not biologically connected to me does not mean he isn't my child. I love him with the fire of a million suns - as does his father. The fact that we don't look alike means NOTHING.

So, to the media, if you have nothing to nice to say... do me a favor and STFU.

And now for something completely different.....

My masto is relatively stable so let's talk about the more important things in life.... family :) Dylan is going to be four in just a week. FOUR - can you believe it? My baby is gone and has been replaced with the most energetic and spectacular child. He loves to explore and loves books. He romps with his friends at his new day care and sleeps like a champ. He'd rather play than eat which is a skill I really need to develop. Now that we've got this medical crap out of the way, I need to play more. I've been so locked up in my head that I haven't been playing with him as much and that's no fun for any of us. We had a party for him with family & very close friends yesterday at Smith Playhouse. This place is truly Philadelphia's best kept secret. My best friend, Joelle, was so impressed at how safe and secure it was. Only 10 and under allowed in the playground so no teenagers bullying around the little ones. The playhouse is 5 and under. He was so cute singing "Happy Birthday to Me". He had such a blast. His Pops (Marc's Dad) came in for the occasion which was nice. I think it's the first time our families were together where I didn't stress. In case you didn't know - our families have never gotten along which has been a source of much angst for Marc and I. We finally told them that it's their problem not ours. My Mom said hi to his mother (huge step) and even spent the evening hanging out with us, Marc's Dad, brother, sister-in-law and niece. Nice time was had by all and I think those walls are slowing starting to crumble. This is a good thing because I really don't want Dylan caught up in this type of nonsense. I can't wait to go home tonight. Marc is leaving early and is going to put together Dylan's new big wheel. It's the original kind (not one of the fancy shmancy ones) and he had tried it at a neighbor's house and loved it.

More on Masto

So while I was up in Beantown, Dr. Castells ordered some additional testing. Some blood work and a urinalysis. I'm happy to report the blood work came back normal. Urine... not so much. My Prostaglandins:D2 levels are, um, elevated. By elevated I mean 10x normal (Normal is between 100-280 and I'm 1241). I was totally freaking out.

My dear friend Fiona, a fellow sufferer and genius extraordinaire provided me with some information on PD2 and Masto. Turns out it has something to do w/lungs, can be associated with COPD and of course, my thoughts go back to Dad.

I know he had this. I am positive about it. I can't help but wonder... would his COPD been as bad had he been diagnosed? Would taking a different regimen of drugs made his quality of life any different?? Not that this changes anything but it does make me very sad. Sad that something could have made his breathing a little easier if only they had found this.

Next weekend I have a follow up appointment with my allergist. From what I gather from Dr. Castells, it was quite a find she made... this masto. She seemed surprised that she would order a tryptase level. I want to give her a big hug. Not that I'm happy to have this disease but more that it was caught very early on (comparatively speaking) and hopefully, with the proper medications, I can expect to have not only a normal life expectancy but a good quality of life as well.

Of course, quality of life is, in some cases, a choice. If I don't choose to get my fat ass in the gym and get my eating under control, I won't see a good quality of life. Marc and I have an appointment with a nutritionist (we had an initial appointment and are very excited at the prospect to be working with her) and next week - I'm back in the gym.

Andy, Lori & The Twins, GDT'rs and Dr. Castells - what a weekend!

Holy smokes what a weekend! It started off with us flying out of AC Airport. Unfortunately, our flight was delayed 3 hours and my big fear was not getting up to Boston in time for my appointment. Thankfully, we did take off and had a quick, uneventful flight.

Upon arriving in Boston, our darling friend, Andy, picked us up and took us to his house. We chowed down on pizza and beer and just relaxed while they "dream fed" their twin daughters. I always knew Andy & Lori would be amazing parents. Seeing them in action just showed me how amazing they are. Their girls have bad reflux and have developed bottle aversion. When Dylan was their age, he'd down 6oz of formula in about 10 minutes. These sweet angels take about 1/2 hr just go get down 4oz. I just hope that their reflux fads into their memory and are able to eat without pain soon.

Next morning we were up early and headed into Boston. Andy dropped us off on Newbury Street where we had breakfast and just relaxed. Around 11 we headed over to meet my friends from the GDT at The Savant Project which was a 2 mile walk in the rain. We stopped at Northeastern University's student center for a break and an extra umbrella.

We had an amazing lunch with some amazing ladies (Marc was quite happy to be surrounded by a bunch of beautiful women). The hour or so flew past and then Marc and I were on our way - walking to Dr. Castells' office compliments of Google Earth.

What we hadn't realized is that we put in the wrong city so what we thought was only a 2 mile walk from the restaurant was really a 7 mile walk from the restaurant. When we realized our (ok my) blunder, we hopped in a taxi. I thought the taxi driver was trying to pull a fast one - going behind these buildings and such. Much to my delight - he knew exactly where we were going. Unfortunately, I left my cell in his taxi. Marc had the receipt so we called the cab company and the driver brought the phone back. He tried to give him a $20 but the guy took $10 (for gas) and said that was enough. Nice guy!

We then had our appointment with Dr. Castells. I felt like I was meeting with the Dali Lama. She was a bit uncomfortable with the idea of me taping the conversation but fortunately relented (because I forgot half of what she told me). She said I have a normal life expectancy with this disease. I may have an increase in some symptoms but nothing life threatening. No reason to think I'll just start shocking but should carry epi just in case. Avoid triggers as much as possible. Take care of myself as much as possible. I do have urticaria pigmentosa pretty much all over my body (not just on my legs like the hematologist said). She's added gastocrom and ketotifen to my regimen. The gastocrom is covered by insurance (yay). The ketotifen is not available in the US so I had to order it from the UK. It's supposed to be the best antihistamine in the world.

Back home on Saturday morning after a few more snuggles with the Boston Babes (and the twins too -hahahaha). Dylan was at Bubbe's and had a blast. Sunday we just relaxed and now are trying to get back into the swing of life again.

Travel, Parenting & Masto - not a pretty mix

We went out to Boston to celebrate our dear friends, Andy & Lori's, baby naming for their beautiful twins. The three of us flew to Boston (via Atlantic City - what a pleasure!) and things were going beautifully... on the surface. Just under the surface my anxiety was rearing it's ugly head. Pushing it down, I pushed forward determined to just suck it up and deal (instead of doing the intelligent thing like taking my meds).

At the synagogue, Dylan understandable was getting antsy so I took him out of the chapel to wander the halls. He hadn't gone to the bathroom in a while so we went into the rest room and I told him it was time to potty. He didn't want to go. I told him to just try. No! Dylan goes into meltdown mode. Full on screaming at the top of his lungs, kicking, hitting. I wanted to die. I took him out of the bathroom hoping it would help. Nope. Took him downstairs (chapel was on 2nd floor). Nope. Outside, more melting. Meanwhile, 45 minutes has elapsed and it doesn't occur to my darling husband that Dylan and I have been gone a while and that maybe, just maybe, he should check on us.

By the time I am able to get Marc's attention my anxiety is in full blown attack mode. I manage to get his attention, he walks out, I shove Dylan at him and lose my shit entirely as I walk away. Cried for over an hour, burning my eyes... yet again, setting of a bad masto event with major flushing and hives. Finally get back to the hotel, get meds in me and calm down. Now... since, my stomach has been in shreds. The only good thing about having this diagnosis is that when something happens in my body, it makes more sense now than it did in the past. Someone recently asked me if I found that my symptoms have been worse since my diagnosis and I said no - just now I know what they are instead of some weird pain, nausea, etc.

I'm so tired. I can't wait to see Dr. Castells on Friday. I don't know what I expect. Maybe she'll be able to waive some magic wand and have all this stuff make sense.

One thing is clear... I need to get on a regimen of anti-anxiety meds sooner than later (yes Ms. L, I will be calling your pyscho-pharmacologist shortly). I need to do something as I really can't live like this. It's not fair to me, it's definitely not fair to Dylan or Marc.

Trying to resolve the past and look to the future... all without losing my mind

My beloved sister who I love with every part of my being asked me to do something. She wanted to do a grandchildren portrait for my Mom for Mother's Day. Ohhhh, what a fun idea! Then I realize, that means my brother's (the one we're in reunion with) would be included. Not that they shouldn't be. It's been over two years they've been in our lives and while we are still not good enough to celebrate their children's birthdays with them (it would upset my SIL's parents I guess), my mother would move the moon and stars for them.

Because it was my sister who asked, I agreed. I then bawled my eyes out. My heart aching with the knowledge that this is something my father would have loved but will never be part of. Not by his choice either. Oh, and I still have a hard time looking at the youngest because he looks exactly like my father.

I have to figure out how to forgive him. I really want to but every time I go down that road, so many issues pop up in my path, blocking that road.

I guess I'm glad it was my SIL. She's easier for me to take for some reason. The kids were amazing and my Mom is going to plotz when she sees the portrait we had done. The kids were all so well behaved (mine being the most photogentic ~preen~) and I even ordered some for myself. It's going to take work but my goal is to have them on display by Dylan's birthday.

Sorry I've been MIA

Been going through my (hopefully) last go around with testing before my appointment with the world renown Dr. Castells. I had emailed her asking what tests she'd like to see prior to my coming up there since I am doing this trip out of pocket and would rather have my testing done and paid for by insurance.

So my list is as follows....

Blood Work
24 Hour Urinalysis
Bone Marrow Biopsy
Bone Scan
CT Scan (with and without contrast)
Skin Punch (can't wait to get these fucking stitches out already).

Now we wait for the results (bone scan normal) and we have our appointment at the end of May.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________ Now on to the important things... Dylan

OMG he's getting so big! I can't believe he's going to be 4 soon. He amazes me every day with his intelligence, his beauty and his humor. Just when I think I can't possibly love him more... I realize I do.

Today we had our final meeting for IEP services. He's going to receive speech and behavior therapy. He's starting a new day care center and then a week later will begin to receive his services. I'm a total basket case. I think the transition will be harder on me than on him.

The teachers at his new day care center are heartbroken. I can't say I blame them.

Having a hard time wrapping my head around things

You know... most people who have a chronic condition or a disease, there is a process. If you are suspected of having a tumor, they do a biopsy. If they find "x" kinds of cells, that means it's malignant and you have cancer and treat it with a number of different things. If they find "y" cells, it's benign and you just keep an eye on it. If your husband has low sperm count and poor morphology and you have a high FsH chances are you're not getting knocked up naturally, if at all.

I get that... diseases and their processes usually make a lot of sense to me. This mastocytosis bullshit??? Not so much. Trying to understand why one person's levels are so much lesser than mine yet she can't leave her house otherwise she shocks. I'm trying very hard not to obsess about this... I really am. But I'm failing miserably. I want to understand this. I want to know what this all means. Unfortunately, I think I'm going to have to wait until I meet with Dr. Castells at the end of May (blech).

Oh, I emailed her yesterday and asked if she wants me to have any other tests prior to seeing her. I need to get an abdominal CT and a densitometry (off to google that one). I love my regular doctor. She is amazing. The most caring doctor I have ever met in my life. Everyone I have sent to her is just blown away by her. It's like you are working with a friend, not a doctor. I forwarded the email to her to set up the tests (or issue the prescriptions so I can set up the tests).

OK - ENOUGH WHINING - on to the fun stuff.

Potty training is going really well. Averaging 1 accident a day. Seems to be a poop issue. He doesn't want to poop in the potty but he has gotten much better about sitting on the potty for a spell. Yesterday, he had no accidents but we aren't sure if it's a Dylan didn't poop at all yesterday or a Dylan pooped on the potty and no one told us. Oh well, I asked the teacher to check w/the teacher who worked w/him yesterday and to just make a note as to whether or not he did. I don't want to end up with a backed up boy.

Maybe I should change the name to "Tales from the Potty"

We started potty training this weekend. Full force. Just pulled the band aid off and put him in big boy underpants on Saturday - no more pull ups (at least not during the day). It went well. Many lessons learned... such as...

The reason you put little boys into briefs instead of boxer briefs or boxers is because things fall out of boxers/boxer briefs as we learned when Dylan, who was playing in his yelled "Mommy! Poopy!" We ran upstairs expecting to help him on the potty. Instead we found poopy.... all over the floor! Apparently, he had an accident and it fell right out.

We asked him what happened and he said... "Mommy, poopy fall out of my tushy!" He seemed almost surprised by it.

This is going to take a while isn't it?

Bang A Gong

Dylan has been fancying himself to be the next Ringo. He insists on bringing his drumsticks into the car where he proceeds to clap them together and then drum on the seat in front of him. He's not half bad either (for a 3 1/2 year old).

He's changing day cares to one near our home. We are very excited as it's a Jewish day care center so he'll be getting a Jewish education and there is a big focus on fun and physical energy at this school which is something he really needs. He'll also be going to a local school for speech therapy which is great.

I can't believe he's almost 4 years old. Where does the time go??

Hurray!

I got an appointment with one of the country's leading mastocytosis physicians. Dr. Castell in Boston. It sucks but there aren't many doctors who seem to really know and treat this disease. I have been trying to wrap my head around it but the second I think I have a handle on it - something new appears on my computer screen.

I know, I know, I need to step away from the googling. I can't help it. I need to understand what is going on. I had a horrible reaction to anchovies the other night (at least I think it was the anchovies). Then I had a horrible reaction to the horrible reaction. My body was actually vibrating. I thought I was crazy but then I posted it on my listserv and I got a bunch of people saying "oh yeah, that happens to me too". Worse part, it's not the first time it's happened either.

I want to see this doctor so I can find out how I can stay healthy. People who have the advanced systemic mastocytosis are so very very sick. I have indolent systemic mastocytosis so my goal in seeing Dr. Castell is to ensure that I remain indolent. Hopefully her answer is better than my doctor's which was.... "some people stay indolent their whole lives with very few flairs while other people go from indolent to advanced. There is no rhyme or reason to it... it just happens".

Bullshit. I don't believe that. There has to be a way for me to stay healthy whether it's eating or avoiding certain foods, taking meds, exercising etc. Whatever it is - if it means I'll stay healthy... I'll do it.

The Kindness of Strangers

It never ceases to amaze me... the kindness of strangers.

Since receiving my diagnosis of systemic mastocytosis, I have, of course, sought out every source of information I could find. Unfortunately, there aren't many of them. I have found two groups on facebook with absolutely lovely people who have been more than willing to not only answer my questions... but answer them honestly. I have also signed up for two listservs and while I don't participate greatly with them, I read the compassion they have for each other and it warms my heart. Especially after having such negative feelings towards the "Big List" as the Guatemalan adoption listserv is/was known.

Today was my first day back to the gym. I feel the need to be kind to myself and this is one of the ways I like to show myself kindness. By giving my body the exercise it so desperately needs. I haven't worked out in a few months for fear of causing a reaction.

Now, being in the fitness business, I know the owner of my gym. However, I still think he would react the same to any member. I explained my situation and told him I'd be bringing my epi pen with me... just in case.

First, he was so very happy to see me back. A number of people mentioned they had missed me which felt so good! I gave him the bag w/my epi kit and told him I had an emergency card in the kit w/my allergies, condition, etc.

He took it upon himself to go online, pull up a video on how to administer an epi pen and had his staff watch the video. He was very discrete and let his staff know to keep an eye on me. I genuinely felt safe while I was working out. It was great and I did a half an hour on the eliptical which is pretty good considering I hadn't worked out in several months. I also pre-medicated which appears to have helped with the hives so a good experience across the board!

The Bad Wife

I feel like such a shit. It's Marc's Mom's birthday today. We were supposed to go over tomorrow night for a party. She's been sick all week with a fever and stomach stuff. Well, he just called me. Tomorrow night is cancelled and him and his brother thought it would be nice to bring over Chinese food (I really have to avoid MSG) and hang out.

He's picking me up, dropping me off at home and going back into town w/Dylan. I haven't been sleeping well... ok, I never sleep well but it's been bad lately and I don't know if it's the stress of this masto shit or if it's the masto. I just feel beat up today.

Marc undersatnds but I still fee like a shit.

I can't think of a catchy title

Brain fog has taken over. I'm totally overwhelmed by this entire thing. I think I have a handle on it one second and then it's lost by conflicting information I find. I spoke with my doctor yesterday. She wants me to see a specialist in Boston and also wants me to registered at the NIH for trials (not happening).

I ordered my MedicAlert charm and a bracelet from Lauren's Hope. They have pretty chains for medical bracelets and if I have to wear one of those suckers - I want it to be pretty damn it! I like the MedicAlert system. I gave them all of my information (and I mean ALL of my information) and they have it in their database. Gd forbid something were to happen to me and I was alone, they would contact Marc. They have a list of my meds which is growing daily - so far we have H1 & H2 inhibitors, an antihistamine nasal spray, wellbutrin and the occassional klonopin thrown in for bad days. I also carry an epi pen and we may be adding a mast cell stabilizer to the mix too. They also have the name of my doctors and also my insurance info. Pretty cool.

I wish I understood this disease more. It's the not knowing that's driving me nuts!

Test was done.

The test was done on Tuesday and I have to say - all things considered - it wasn't that bad. For any of you who may be on the National Bone Marrow Registry having a biopsy is really not that bad. I'd rather have that than another HsG ~shudder~.

Hopefully I'll have some answers in the next day or two. In the meantime, for your viewing pleasure, in case you've ever wondered what kind of instruments are used in a bone marrow biopsy.....

Basically, they give you lots of local (which was the worse part), they do a 1/16 of an inch incision, then they use the big thingie to get down to the bone and then they use the metal thing w/the top to it to drill into the bone then they suck up the marrow through the tube. I swear, when he was aspirating the marrow - it felt like it was coming up through my toes, through my leg and out my hip.

All in all, I've been a bit sore. Nothing terrible. It's definitely subsided today. So here's to hoping. The doctor doesn't think it's leukemia or even systemic mastocytosis but, after he saw my legs, agreed it could be cutaneous.

I'm bouncing off the walls today

I have been up since 3:00 a.m. On top of being apprehensive about my appointment with the hematologist today, I'm getting sick. I have a raging sore throat and I'm congested. Hopefully, whatever needs to be done today won't have to be put off because of this. I don't know how much more waiting my brain can take.

Missing old friends

Kim Kim & Wessel - are you lovelies still around? How are you?

What does all of this mean??

I'm so lost right now. This disease... this mastocytosis... what the fuck is it? So far all I know is I get hives, have anxiety, am a lousey sleeper, have a tryptase level of 70 and now... a N-methylhistamine level of 267 (normal is 30-200).

I'm healthy. I have a few minor symptoms. I haven't shocked (anaphalaxis) except for one episode where I may have shocked in 97 or 96. I've had some weird stomach things about 10 years back that could be masto or could be a virus.

Shit, now that I am obsessing about this... I had a weird thing about 15 years ago where I couldn't eat much and dropped like 50lbs. Stomach issue or masto? Your guess is as good as mine.

What I can't figure out is this.... am I sick? Seriously. I'm in pretty good shape. I normally spin 3x a week (stopped because the heat rashes me up and I'm trying to avoid known triggers), my cardiologist wishes all her patients had a heart like mine. My dad's pulmonologist says my lungs are strong. My biggest medical issue to date has been infertility.

I read stories. Stories of people who "shock" every 3-6 months without warning. Their blood pressure drops and wham, they're out. They've spent years trying to figure this shit out after suffering horrible illness. Me? I have hives. Pain in the ass yes, life threatening no. But was there a time... a time when their lives were like mine with just small little symptoms that were just irritating? Did I just get lucky to find an allergist who has knowledge of mast cell diseases and this is where I'm heading???

I have a girl's night out scheduled for Saturday. I'm a bit concerned about driving up there myself. At least now I understand the pre-cursors, etc so if I start feeling oogie, I know to get off the road and call for help. Still....

Marc has his Valentine's Day gift orders (we normally don't get gifts but)... as soon as we have a definate diagnosis.... we'll get me a pretty medilert bracelet.

Today was rough. Mom called to tell me my father's brother was dying. I wasn't close to him. In fact I was quite angry that when my mother called to tell him his brother had passed, all he could talk about was his medical shit. Well, I guess his shit was pretty bad too cause he has stomach cancer and hospice is being called in. I cried a lot today. Not so much for him (although no one should die that death) but more for his sons. I know that pain. The pain of losing a parent. It just brought it all up again. I was at work, not in a "safe" place. Shove shove shove the emotions down, get through my meeting, get through a few calls when my insides said, sorry - no more room in here and threw the emotions back up along with a nice hivey rash on my upper arms and a full out panic attack. One H1 and one h2 inhibitor along with half a klonopin and some deep breathing exercises I came back from a close call with my epi pen (much to the dismay of my coworker who is dying to stab me with it).

The though of going to work tomorrow is just hard for me right now. Part of me feels like I need a few days in bed just being alone to get this all straight but I know that that is definitely not the right path for me. I have 6 days till my appointment. 6 days till I can get some answers as to what this thing called mastocytosis means. It's going to be a looooonnnngggg 6 days.

Happy Valentine's Day

A happy Valentine's day to everyone still hanging around this silly blog. I had such a wonderful weekend.

Marc had Dylan "sign" my card. On the envelope Dylan drew a picture of me, Marc, Dylan, the cats with a circle around me which represented him hugging me. I had Dylan do the same on Marc's card. It was too cute. Marc made me dinner after Dylan was in bed. We just sat in the dining room, lit some candles and had a nice romantic dinner. We just talked, ate and drank the night away. When we were done we both said "we need to do this more often".

Dylan's day care was closed today so yesterday he went to Bubbe's house for the evening. Two of his cousins found out and insisted they had to go too. My Mom said that the kids were great with Dylan and enjoyed taking care of him. Even the little one who is 6 months older was careful with him which is very sweet.

While Dylan was with Bubbe, we took advantage of the grown up time and went out for a nice dinner. I had a bit of a reaction to something. I'm hoping it wasn't the seafood - part of me thinks it was psychosomatic but I took a benedryl just in case.

Today my Mom took them to the local aquarium on my pass. They all had a great time. My Mom called and sounded so exhausted! Happy but exhausted. Now he's at my sisters hanging out till we get there.

Probably one of the dumbest things I've said in a while

But I think I'd rather deal with IF than this stupid mastocytosis. With IF, I could say to my fellow suffers... "My FsH shot up to 35" and they would understand exactly what I'm talking about. In IF, the medicine makes sense to me. In masto - it makes no sense to me whatsoever... at least not yet anyway and it's driving me mad!

It seems like this is a relatively "new" disease so I don't know that there is any set protocol in dealing with it. It seems that many of these sufferers just go into anaphalactic shock at the drop of a hat. In fact, that's how they discovered they had the disease. That scares the shit out of me. I've made sure that the people who sit near me during the day know how to use my epi pen and where I keep it but what if I'm alone or worse, alone with Dylan? I don't EVEN want to think about it.

Another thing that worries me about this is that there doesn't seem to be specialists for this disease except the ones who first identified it (and who are not in my area). I'm spoiled. I see specialists.

Gotta love those "aha!" moments.

So, being the super-hypochondriac I am, I have been researching the hell out of mastocytosis. I've found a few blogs (which I need to add to my bloglines) and just reading some of their reactions as it related to this disease has given me some "aha" moments.

TMI warning - Like the time I was so sick I was vomiting and suffering horrific diarrhea (at the same time), severe flushing, back pain, fainting. Yes, I know it could have been a virus - but it also could have been a histamine load - it happened to me 2x.

Also, another masto sufferer mentions that she believes her masto was triggered after a reaction to an antibiotic. I had a horrible reaction to cephlesporin. Now I'm trying to remember if I had this issue with hives prior to that reaction. I really don't think I did.

In case you haven't figured it out - I'm a little freaked out by all of this. I'm given bits and pieces of info but no where to plug it in so it can make sense. I'm actually looking forward to talking to the hematologist.

Craziness

Blogging has definitely fell by the wayside as parenting has become my #1 priority. I do miss it and I think I'm going to try to start things up again. So let's see.... The kittens are great! It's the first time I've had cats that had claws (both Shadow & Saffie had come to me declawed... front and back) and I have to say that we've had very few problems (except for when they try to climb up Marc). I swear Buttercup (gray) is Shadow reincarnated. She is, by far, the sweetest little thing you've ever seen and I walked into the living room one day to find Dylan with his head resting on her belly watching TV. Wesley has very little patience for Dylan. Dylan is doing incredibly well. He has a bit of a delay with his speech but we are in the process of getting his IEP set up so within the next few months - he'll be getting all the help he needs. It's been an overwhelming process for us but we're just taking things one step at a time. Me? Doing well except for one leetle thing. For the past ten to fifteen years, I'd get these random hives. Around the time this all started, I noticed that I had developed spots that look like freckles on my thighs. I pointed it out to a dermatologist once... jackass told me it was fat deposits. Well, it looks like I may have mastocystosis which is a rare disease where your body produces too many mast cell. From everything I've read, it's not a big deal. I have a 24 hour urinalysis to do on Sunday, drop it off Monday, then hopefully we'll know for sure and go from there. If anyone who may be reading this (Gd bless you if you do) and has any knowledge of this disease, feel free to chime in.

A new additions to the family!

Easy there folks - it's not what you think :)

After losing Shadow this summer, we decided no more pets for a while. Then we went to Colorado to visit Marc's family for Thanksgiving. His Dad has two wonderful dogs, a cat and a visiting cat. Dylan was in heaven! Played with the cats and dogs almost non-stop. One morning, on the cats decided to wake us both up for a snuggle at 6:00 a.m. Marc looked at me and said "you're going to think I'm crazy but...." I laughed and said "I miss it too".

Introducing the newest additions to our family... Buttercup (gray) and Wesley (orange) who joined our family thanks to the rescue efforts of the Camden County SPCA..

Poop in the Potty - Poop goes in the potty!

I have no idea who's in this video on You Tube - I love the song and so does Dylan. Apparently it made an impact because when Marc and I were away this weekend we got a call from my Mom.... he pooped on the potty! I think we can officially say we are in full potty training mode :)

Saying Goodbye

Monday I went to Andrea's memorial. Just like Andrea, she planned the entire thing. It was beautiful.

Her husband Kelly spoke, her minister spoke, her children spoke, her eldest Alec played guitar and say "My Life" by the Beatles which absolutely killed me. One of her friends read a letter that Andrea had written for the occassion.

I hope, many many many years from now, when my time comes, I have enough time to be as prepared as Andrea was. I hope that I can face my death as bravely as she did.

Her death has brought me some peace with my father's death. I think she said it best when she said that the person who dies has it easy - it's the ones left behind that really have it hard. She's right.

The memorial brought up a lot of emotions about my father's death and my subsequent reunion with my brother (there are reunion stuff happening on Andrea'sside as well so I was really personalizing a lot of things). While I feel a bit ripped open, it's not necessarily in a bad way.

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Rest in Peace Angel... Rest in Peace

Andrea Smith Punk Rock Mommy

By Michael Matza

Inquirer Staff Writer Andrea Collins Smith, 38, the "Punk Rock Mommy" whose online journal about her terminal illness was a heartbreaking yet uplifting fixture in cyberspace since her fateful diagnosis last year, died at her Fishtown home Saturday, just hours after her last blog posting.

"I am sure that some of you are profoundly saddened by my passing. Death is far more about the living than the dead," she wrote, opening herself for the final time to more than 70,000 monthly visitors to her Web site.

"But I believe in my whole heart that this is what was meant to be for us all. . . . I pray that none of you will ever get cancer, it sucks. But if you do or someone you love does I pray some of my words are a comfort to you all. Have a wonderful life. I will have a wonderful afterlife."

Smith's husband, tattoo artist Kelly Smith, said his wife died at 10:30 a.m. Saturday after respiratory complications.

"Her spirit was so bright. She touched a lot of people in a lot of different circles," he said, citing her passions for church, the punk underground, and groups concerned with maternal and child health.

"She really was the star of her show," said her friend Amy McConnell. "Everyone, it seemed, waited with bated breath to see what was going on with her life."

Avid followers certainly knew.

"I feel my body rushing toward death. New growths in my neck. New pain," she wrote on July 1. "And I no longer pray for more time. I really want to be in Heaven now. ASAP."

In May 2007, two days after graduating with a psychology degree from Temple University and two days before Mother's Day, the hipster mother of six whose tattoos and piercings were too many to count learned she had inflammatory breast cancer, a fast-spreading, generally incurable form of the disease.

Rallying around their stricken friend, the region's rockers, artists and self-styled outcasts turned out in force, cooking, cleaning, holding fund-raisers, and driving her to medical appointments.

Smith, whose life force never failed to register on people who met her, was widely known in the punk-grunge subculture anchored on South Street.

She liked to say she once held "the trifecta of cool jobs" - clerk at Zipperhead, waitress at Sugar Mom's, and office manager at the School of Rock, where students 9 to 17, including several of her own kids, learn to perform hot licks.

A parishioner at Kensington's Circle of Hope Church, Smith always prayed. After her diagnosis, she said last December, she had some "funny" conversations with God.

"I'm a mother. I just graduated from college. Now I have terminal cancer. I thought you wanted more from me. Besides, it's very cliched. Very Lifetime television," she said she told God.

On a serious note, she said, she came to understand that everyone's "life is very short. None of us knows how long we have . . ..

"You can sit around and wonder, 'Why me? Why me?' " she said in an interview with The Inquirer. "But do you ask yourself that when good things happen?"

Raised in Fort Lauderdale, Fla., Smith moved to Philadelphia with her mother and sister when she was 17 and immediately fell in with the punk and new-wave scene.

In 1989, she married musician Tony "Jeeter" Collins. A year later, their son Alec was born. Then came Jesse, now 16; the twins, Asa and Tucker, now 14; and Bailey, now 11, the couple's only girl. They divorced in 2000.

Four years later, she married Smith. Twenty months ago their son, Clay, was born. Persistent soreness that developed during breast-feeding led to the discovery of her cancer.

She began the Web site - www.punkrockmommy.org - to keep family and friends apprised of her condition, but it quickly grew, acquiring an international following.

A memorial service for Smith will be held at 9:30 a.m. Monday at New Life Philadelphia Presbyterian Church, 425 E. Roosevelt Blvd.

3 Years!

Three years ago today I wrote this post. Three years ago today we received our referral of our son, Dylan. He was 2 days old.

I can't believe it's been three years (2 1/2 that he's been with us). He is the most amazing child you have ever met. His smile will melt the hardest of hearts. His spirit is wild and adventurous. His speech is coming along nicely although him repeating our random "shit! fuck! etc." we could live without.

But I can't let this day or his birthday go by without acknowledging his first mother. Both Sunday and today I felt her in my heart, tugging. I can't help but wonder what she does on his birthday and on the anniversary of her relinquishment. I say prayers for her and hope that she reaches out to us one day. If not, I hope that if Dylan ever wants to find her, that her door is open to him.

I've been tagged!

My lovely friend Liana has tagged me with a MeMe and I need something to take my mind off of things so here it goes!

1. What were you doing 10 years ago?

Wow - 10 years ago huh? I was working for MicroWarehouse which no longer exists. I was miserably single but doing all the fun things singles do like traveling, going out and partying.

2. What 5 things are on your to-do list for today?

Only 5? Dinner, have many drinks, play with Dylan, straighten up the house a bit, do some laundry.

4. What would you do with a billion dollars?

Make sure that my Mom was taken care of (bills paid off, nice place to live, nice allowance to play with), start the adoption of our second child, redo our kitchen (or maybe just buy a new house), travel.

5. List the places you have lived.

Marlton & Cherry Hill, NJ; Philadelphia, PA and Israel

6. List the jobs you have had.

I'm only listing the ones I've had as a grown up :) I've been a clerk typist (just like you Liana!), paralegal, kereoke hostess, waitress, sales person.

So now I’m supposed to tag 3 other people. Hmmm - how about Cecily, Stiletto & Barb?

Rest in Peace My Dear Friend

Last week Marc and I went away for Marc's 40th Birthday. We went to Vegas. On the next to the last day of our trip, we got a call from our vet's office. Shadow wasn't doing well. His kidneys were failing.

The vet said to give it till today to see if he could turn him around. He couldn't. Shadow was 16 1/2 years old and diabetic. He was tired. We sent him to be with Saffie and Zayde. The house feels very empty now. He will be missed.

Goodnight sweet boy.... we love you.

Reaching out - Asking For Help

Not for me.... for my dear sweet friend Andrea. Her time on this earth is quite limited but she'll leave behind a large family and they need help. Fast.

If you are in a position to help, they need funds for child care, they could use gift cards to Trader Joe's or Target or for gas. If you are in the Philadelphia area, they are looking for people with construction skills/supplies to help rehab the home they will be moving to on August 25th (also, if you own or know the owner of a moving company who is interested in donating their time and skills...).

If you are a blogger who will help spread the word - it would also be appreciated.

Thanks! Julie

Doing the right thing... adoption wise

I've been reading blogs by adoptees lately. I'm posting this here because I don't want to take away from their feelings or thoughts. I'm not saying anyone's feelings are wrong. I'm just trying to get my head around some of them.

I don't want Dylan to ever feel anything but loved. He's not second best. He wasn't a last resort. However, there was a journey to him and part of that journey was going through infertility treatment. Marc and I always say how grateful we are for the experience of IF because it brought us to Dylan. I can't imagine my life without him. Not without a baby but without Dylan.

My whole life has been leading up to situations. Does that make sense? I feel like Gd is always giving me obstacles to help me appreciate when I'm given good relationships, jobs, etc.

Sometimes I need to let go of the fear that I will hurt Dylan in some way because he is adopted. I just need to continue to love him with all of my being.

Sorry - I was kind of going somewhere with this but it got a little goofy in the translation from heart/head to blog.

Revolting!

Thanks to UnGrateful Little Bastard for the story.

Seriously, if we ever decided to adopt again and an agency or attorney told us this is how to do it, I may end up in jail for assault.

Seriously... who is ok with THIS?

Cool Website Find

So I was cruising the Guatemalan Adoption boards (as I'm known to do from time to time) when someone posted about this wonderful thing called Speakshop. It's a website that hooks people up with teachers in Guatemalan and Nicaragua. It's a fair trade situation so the money you pay ($8 per hour) goes directly to the teacher. How cool is that????

Whining

Time to pick the internet's brains a bit.

Dylan isn't extremely verbal. He gets into these fits (like this morning) where he'll whine he wants something. He won't verbal what it is other than to say "want dat". When we try to get him to "use his words" he just gets more frustrated. When we finally figure it out it seems to set him off into a tizzy that includes him saying "no want that" and then, when we remove the item from his view, reach, whatever, he flips out yelling. We give it back, "No want that", take it away, flips out - often times biting his hand.

So wise internet - give me some tools here... please.

Let the Voting Begin!!!

Please VOTE for my good friend Andrea's blog for best Mommy Blog. And, if you are so inclined... you can VOTE for me too.

Forgot to ask....

What makes your kids lose their minds??

Dylan absolutely goes insane with bubbles. He'll shriek like he's just won the lottery and go tearing off after them screaming "bbbuuubbblllessss!!!!". It's the funniest thing I've ever seen.

Somewhere in the middle....

So I started reading Raising Your Spirited Child. I'm only a few chapters in but it's quite apparent that Dylan isn't as spirited as I thought (at least, compared to the behaviors described in the book).

Oh, don't get me wrong, my boy has spirit and energy galore but he comes down off of it quite quickly. This book is geared more towards children who lock in and that's it. Does that make sense?

The one thing I've taken from the little bit I've read is I want to get rid of the negative language. He's not hyper, he's energetic. He's not loud, he's excited. You get the picture. It's still a good book and plan to keep pushing through it but first I have to read Customer Centric Selling. Can I just tell you how much I friggin hate sales books. I have to read three chapters by tomorrow for our sales meeting. What the fuck. One thing I've learned about this type of thing, read it, take from it what you can and leave the rest. I have never worked for an organization that actually implemented anything from these programs. Last thing was the Fish principal and how we were going to bring this moral program into our office. Meanwhile, moral is still on a downward spiral and nothing was ever done. I will say - that particular book was a good read. More like a story than a how-to book so it held my attention.

Allergies and Energies

We had our first visit with the allergist this morning. Dylan had a skin test done (he was a trooper and didn't even wince). He's allergic to trees. Thankfully, no reaction to cats or dogs.

We now have an idea on how to proceed with his stuffed nose and breathing so that hopefully we can wean him off of the Flovent in the coming months.

Hopefully, taking him off Flovent will help decrease his energy level. Dylan is being seen by a therapist for his speech. Well, not really his speech. They know he can speak but they feel that he's so busy that he doesn't sit still long enough to learn. ~sprays anti-labeling spray~ No, he's not ADD or ADHD. The therapist that works with him deals with many children with ADD, ADHD, Autism, etc. and he shows none of the classic signs. He's definitely spirited and like my friend Cecily, I picked up a copy of Raising Your Spirited Child and began reading that this weekend.

I've only read a few pages but the first thing that struck me was the desire of the parents to remove the negative words like hyper from their vocabulary. I agree. There is nothing negative about Dylan. Sometimes he exhibits negative behavior but that's normal - we all do. I had labels growing up and I hated it. I don't want to do that to him.

Broken Hearted

I had once said that my heart was broken when my Dad died. Now I know it's true and I have proof - an EKG was taken today (for some super minor hand surgery I'm supposed to have for a cyst) and it shows a left axis - anterior fascicular block. What does that mean? According to my adorable doctor, it means the lines go down when they should go up. It could be indicative of a past heart attack she says but she doesn't feel that the case. She said I need to know this because if I was in the ER for something and got an EKG, they may think I was having or had a heart attack.

I left there with an okay attitude and called Mom. She flips out and tells me I have to call Dad's cardiologist immediately. She reminds me that my father's side of the family has a history of heart disease. Fuck.

I get back into the office and promptly call the cardiologist. Cardiologist assistant is lovely and has me fax the EKG into her office. She's going to review it w/the Cardiologist and see if it's something they need to see me about immediately or if it's something that can be scheduled normally (I want a full workup as I'm planning to do the MS 150).

Then I start thinking to myself that this is just a baseline - I've never had an EKG before so don't panic yet..... yet..... wait.... what about 10 years ago when I was sick. DOUBLE FUCK

Here's a bizarre story for you.

I woke up one day at 3:00 a.m. with a blinding headache. I never get headaches like this. I thought I had carbon monoxide poisoning (I had fallen asleep to a show about CM poisoning). I drove around at 3:00 a.m. looking for a store that had a CM detector - finally found one, came home, plugged it in and it showed nothing. Decided in my haze of pain that it was broken and called the gas company who promptly came out and told me I was crazy. Shortly after the gas guy left is when it hit... horrible vomiting & diarrhea at the same time (thank Gd my toilet & sink were next to each other). I ended up passing out a number of times and ended up in the hospital. I had a 94 degree temp when I got there (brother took me) due to the dehydration. The hooked me up to an IV and also gave me an EKG because I had a horrible pressure in my chest.

Now I don't think I had a heart attack that day - they said the EKG was fine... but... they said it was fine. If this thingie is something that is my baseline then it would have showed up then. TRIPLE FUCK

Needless to say, I have a call into my regular doctor to tell her that I'm not convinced this is "normal" for me.

I really need to relax this weekend!

Co-Parenting

So tell me - wonderful internet people - do you and your significant other truly co-parent? How do you handle discipline.

I really need to get a better handle on this discipline thing. I am so tired of feeling like the bad guy. Dylan will pitch a fit and I feel like I am the only person willing to handle it. I've asked Marc several times if I am going over board and he's said no so.... how do you handle co-parenting when disciplining your child. Oh, and by discipline, I am referring to giving time-outs, removing child from a situation when they are acting up, etc.

I'd also love to hear any creative parenting techniques. Dylan has fallen in love with throwing and has quite the impressive arm. This is completely acceptable when we are tossing a ball. It's completely unacceptable when it's french toast and we are sitting in a restaurant and he managed to nail a guy in the head that is sitting across the isle from us (I shit you not).

Ahhhh, the trying two's!

Hey - Anonymous gave me an idea!

If anyone out there has some good recipes for Guatemalan food, please share them here! I'd love to start compiling recipes. I have a recipe for a Guatemalan Ginger Chicken Soup which is easy, delicious and low in calories/fat. I'll have to dig it up but I promise to post it.

I'll run the Charoset through a recipes builder to see if I can get some nutritional information to post for my weight watcher peoples.

That's my boy!

Yesterday was beautiful so I took Dylan to the park near my office at work. There is a fountain that hasn't been filled yet that all of the toddlers love to run around in (and all of the parents love the fact that the kids are contained to a small area).

Now, there is a group of kids we see all of the time and Dylan plays beautifully with them. Yesterday, a new girl joined the group. She is 6 and has Downs Syndrome and was quite aggressive at first. She had two balls and would throw them. Dylan would run and pick them up and she would run up to him and scream at him and snatch the balls away from him. She threw the balls again and again Dylan chased them down and picked them up. Again, she got in his face and snatched the balls away. The third time this happened I could see Dylan's beautiful brain working. He ran after the balls, picked them up, ran up to Miss P and very gently handed her back the balls. After that, the two of them just played beautifully together.

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In other news, I'm weaning off the lexapro. I keep forgetting to take it so I kept getting agitated but I know it's just a side effect of forgetting so I am able to deal.

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Well, Passover begins this weekend and I came across a recipe for Guatemalan Charoset. I'll be making it for our Sedar tomorrow and I'm just so excited to be able to bring some of Dylan's culture to our Sedar table. If anyone else is interested, here's the recipe...

Haroset ingredients

* 3 green apple, peeled, chopped, with a splash of lemon juice
* 2 tablespoons cashew, chopped
* 2 tablespoons honey
* 1 ounce sweet passover wine
* 1 teaspoon fresh cilantro, chopped

Sauce

* 1 ounce green chilies, and
* red chilies, chopped, they are locally called chiltepe
* 2 teaspoons onion, chopped
* 2 garlic clove, peeled, chopped
* 1 small tomato, chopped
* 1 tablespoon wine vinegar
* 1 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
* cinnamon

Directions

1.Toss all haroset ingredients in a bowl and set aside.
2.Liquify all ingredients for the sauce in a blender and season with salt to taste,.
3.Add 1 tablespoons of the sauce to the haroset and blend.
4.Add cinnamon to taste.

It was in an article in Hadassa Magazine about a new Jewish Community in Guatemala and how they had a Charoset contest and this was the winner.

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Chag Samaech!

Time for a redo

I hate the way my blog looks. It's boring. I'd love to spruce it up a bit but I suck at this kind of thing. Anyone want to take a stab at it for me??? I have an appointment on Friday with my doc. I need a redo too. I want off of my anti-depressants. I needed them to help me get past my father's death. While I don't think I'll ever be over it - I've healed enough that I can exist with the meds. I'm tired all of the time and I think it has to do with the drugs. I hate feeling like this. I can't enjoy my evenings because I'm so exhausted by the end of the day, that I just go to bed right after dinner. It sucks.

Moving Right Along

I really need to post more often. So... what's new? Well, Dylan is 2 1/2 and is Mr. Independent. He will throw the most spectacular fits if now allowed to do things himself. He is a dare devil - he loves to jump and flip off of anything and everything. He (of course) loves Elmo and Dora and is just now starting to enjoy the idiot box. His speech is a bit delayed but that is improving with the help of early intervention. My depression is lifting and I think I'm ready to wean off the anti-depressant I've been on since my Dad passed away. I don't sleep and I think that may be because of the medication. I've been working out consistently 4x a week (2 days spinning and 2 days training w/a personal trainer) and it's definitely paying off. I'm down to a size 10 and feel stronger than I've ever felt (physically). Marc is amazing. He's such an incredible husband and father. It's just amazing to watch him play with Dylan. They are best buds. Adoption related... We are still waiting on Dylan's COC (Certificate of Citizenship). According to the website - we are hopefully about 2 months away from getting it. Let's keep our fingers crossed!

Hi Ya Stranger :)

Yeah, I'm still around. This is just a quick post to ask you to go to The Best of Blogs and nominate (and then vote) for my good friend Andrea for most inspirational blog. Andrea is fighting cancer. She's an amazing woman. Go over to her blog and give her some love. So.... I'm sure you're wondering where I've been. I suck. I have no excuses. Dylan is spectacular. He just amazes me every day. He's a little boy now - no more baby. He's talking more. He's a daredevil and loves to jump and flip off of things. Gd help me. Life is good.

Two Years Ago Today....

December 5, 2005 - We awoke early and headed out the airport. This was it, we were going to get our son. We knew that later that day - we would finally hold him in our arms. You could tell we were excited because we actually left the house a little earlier than we had planned. We got to the airport early and it was mobbed! The lines moved swiftly and before we knew it, we were standing in front of our new best friend, Robert. Apparently the idiot at US Air who originally took our miles reservation only held the reservation - she didn't book the ticket. After a little work from our friend, we were headed to security.We got through security with enough time to grab some breakfast to bring onto the plane with us. We were held up a bit due to weather in North Carolina. By the time we reached Guatemala, we were already about an hour later than expected. We went through customs (it was a breeze) we headed over to get our luggage. The conveyor belt was broken so they started unloading by hand. These guys were incredible - lifting the bags like they didn't weight a thing. After about 40 minutes, we learned that they had put out all of the luggage from our flight. Turns out our bags were still in North Carolina. Luckily we packed a bag with an extra set of clothes for me, Marc and Dylan so we weren't too concerned.While in line we met a lovely Guatemalan couple. They were horrified that belt was broken and our bags were lost and felt like it was an embarrassment to them personally as Guatemalans. They were so kind and offered us a ride to the hotel. We declined only because we saw the shuttle to our hotel. NOTE TO PARENTS GOING TO PICK UP THEIR CHILD: Always pack a change of clothes for yourself, your SO & your child in your carry on luggage. Also pack some extra diapers for the baby, PJ's, etc. This way if your bags get lost, you are covered. The Westin in Guatemala is fantastic! The have a floor just for families with a little family room with a sofa, toys for the kids, a microwave, a sink and a bottle purifier. When parents have left overs (food, formula, diapers, etc.) it is left in the cabinets. I thought it was pretty funny that there wre a few bottles of wine too!We had gotten to the hotel too late for the attorney's office to bring Dylan to us so we had to wait till 11:00 a.m. the next day. We went out to eat outside the hotel at Taco Inn (very tasty for those of you going), had a few beers and went to bed. December 6, 2005 - Marc and I are normally early risers so we decided to explore the area around the hotel and went for a long walk. We had breakfast and waited for 11:00 a.m. to roll around. And we waited and we waited and finally emailed the agency at 11:30 that we were getting worried. Apparently our attorney was behind schedule and would be by at 2:00 p.m. with Dylan and his foster Mom. AAACCCKK So we waited and waited and at 2:00 p.m. our phone rang. It was RM (the attorney) and she was in the lobby with our boy. We ran down to the lobby and we knew him on sight. He was even more beautiful than his photos. He smiled when he saw us and we just melted! Neither of us cried - I think we were in shock that this day was finally here. We met his wonderful foster mom. Unfortunately, his foster dad couldn't join us. They gave us a small photo album and you could really tell how much they loved him. She even called us in the hotel the next day to check on him. The rest of the day we just got to know our boy. How he likes to be held, how he likes us to hold his bottle, etc. He showed us how he makes rasberries and how much he likes it when we make them on his belly and neck and toes. We were told that the Westin had strollers that you could borrow (leave a $5 deposit that you would get back when you return the stroller). What we hadn't counted on is them running out of them. We ended up carrying him everywhere and he sat on our laps when we ate. I actually learned to eat right handed! December 7, 2005 - Embassy time! Our appointment was at 7:45 a.m. so M & her son (M works for our attorney) picked us up at 7:00 a.m. along with another family and took us to the Embassy. After going through security we were brought into a room. M told us that we would hear our names called and that we were number 10 in line. Just go to room 8 and she would wait for us there. After about 40 minutes our name was called. We went into room 8 which was really tiny. Like a brook closet with 2 chairs and a big window. We were sworn in and asked a bunch of basic questions. The lady behind the glass stamped our paperwork and told us we would be called to window 5 in a little while. We went back into the room and waited. About 30 minutes later we were called to the window and told to sign a few documents and we were done. We could pick up the visa on Thursday at 3:30 p.m. Actually, the attorney's office picks it up so we were pretty much done w/the Embassy. We were not able to leave the hotel because we had no identification for Dylan as the Embassy keeps his passport and they don't want us to leave the hotel w/out his identification. We just hung out and relaxed and got to know each other, had dinner in the Italian Restaurant in the hotel. The chef came out and introduced himself and wished us well. Then a couple sat down across from us and we chatted about Guatemala and the adoption. It was lovely. After dinner we just went back to the room and went to bed. Dylan gets up once or twice during the night for his bottle but then goes right back to sleep. December 8, 2005 - After breakfast, M's son, C picked us and another couple up and took us to a craft market near the airport. I guess with C with us, there was no concerns about being stopped with the babies and being asked for ID. We shopped for some things to take home for Dylan. We got a little puppet, some material to be made into a Tallis for him and a hand woven sling to carry him in (that we couldn't use because the dye was rubbing off on both of us). He brought us back to the hotel and told us that either he or his mom would be back w/our Visa's. We just hung out in our room until 4:00 when they called us with the Visas. We were done. All we needed to do now was wait till Saturday for our flight. We had dinner at the buffet restaurant in the hotel and... you guessed it... went to bed. Deceber 9, 2005 - We had the whole day to ourselves with nothing to do but enjoy ourselves. At this point we still didn't have a stroller and our backs were sore from carrying him so we went to the mall 3 blocks from the hotel, went to the department store and bought a stroller. It's a Graco and it was perfect! We walked around the area surrounding the hotel. When we got back to the hotel, it was sunny and warm so we headed off to the pool. Dylan enjoyed it but as soon as we got into the pool, the sun went behind the clouds so we had to bring him out. He feel asleep in his stroller so we were able to just relax by the pool for a while. That night we went out again to the Tacotento (sp?) restaurant down the street from the hotel for dinner. It was wonderful because Dylan was able to hang out in his stroller while we ate. Then it was back to the hotel to rest up for our trip the next day. December 10, 2005 - up early with Dylan. We packed up, ate breakfast and then called to the bellman to get our bags. We ran into the woman we had met in the Italian Restaurant again and she was telling us how wonderful Dylan is (um, duh!). Anyway, she went on to tell us that she had met a gay couple who had adopted and wasn't that horrible! We explained that we knew several gay couples who have adopted and feel it is a wonderful thing. Man, she took off like a bat out of hell! On to the airport we went and, after a slight delay in checking in (when we arranged for Dylan to come home - we gave the name "Dylan" instead of his birth name which is on the passport), we went to our terminal. The stroller proved to be invaluable - we were able to put some of our luggage in the basket under the seat. While waiting we met a couple who had just visited with their son. The wife was very teary while looking at Dylan. She explained that she had gotten her referral when her son was 2 days old. They hadn't wanted to do a visit trip but since it was his first birthday (yes, you read that right) they felt it was the right thing to do. The poor woman was in tears and my heart was breaking for her. It's all about her agency - they refuse to answer her questions as to what is going on and when her or her husband push things she is told that if they don't keep their mouth shut they will lose their referral and will never be able to adopt from Guatemala again. So very sad. We were very fortunate in that the woman checking us in at the airport decided to book us so that we had an isle and a window seat and the seat in between us was empty. This was wonderful because Dylan managed to fall asleep just after take off. We were able to lay him down across the seat which made for a very comfortable trip for the tree of us. Of course Dylan decided, after he woke up, to have the most toxic diaper known to man. When I was getting out of my seat in order to change him he tipped over in the seat and scratched his face. I was so upset with myself. He didn't even wimper. I have to say that the changing table in the bathroom was perfect. Just wide enough and long enough that I didn't have to worry about him falling over (he likes to grab his toes and roll onto his side when I change his diaper). As we were landing in Charlotte, the pilot came over the loudspeaker and reminded the passengers that cameras and recording devices were not allowed in customs and, if anyone was caught using them, they would be confiscated. He then said (dryly) "Welcome to America". All of the Americans on the flight got a good laugh out of that. We were very unsure of what happens next. We knew that we had to give this package to customs but we weren't sure where. Basically, when you go through regular customs, there are two lines, one for Americans and the other for "others". We were told to go to the "others" line. We were called up to the customs agent and a supervisor was walking by and mentioned that she hadn't seen any adoption kids come through. I laughed and said that we have one here. She wished us many blessings. The customs agent processed us and took our paperwork and told us to go through to the next area. The security guard in the next spot was a real asshole. He wanted some blue card that the customs agent took from us. We explained that we didn't have it - that she had taken it with the rest of our documents. He kept insisting that we had it till finally he just waved us through and told us we needed to go over to immigration (most people just passed straight through - we had to go to the area to the left). We met with a lovely guard there who asked us to leave our luggage and wait in a room - he said they'd come and get us. Another family (who was in line behind us at customs with 4 kids) joined us in the room. They were Guatemalan but there was a problem with one of their son's visas. We chatted, I changed Dylan into his pj's and, after about 10 minutes a guard came in and handed us Dylan's passport and welcomed us all to America. Then came the dash.. we had to recheck our luggage and run through the airport (thank Gd for the stroller) to make our flight. Turns out we had the time wrong and we had enough time to grab a bite to eat and call a few family members to let them know we were in.We jumped on the next flight and he fussed a bit (bitch in th neat seat was giving us dirty looks - I told Marc I was tempted to let him cry for the entire flight). He fell asleep right before takeoff and then woke up right before landing. We were home. We got our luggage, hopped on the shuttle, got our car (Marc played Tetris with the luggage - and did an amazing job) and came home. It was an incredible experience. I definately want to go back to Guatemala and travel around the country. The people were so very kind to us. We really didn't experience any of the anti-adoption sentiment that we hear so much about. There was one woman at the hotel who was giving us very dirty looks but that could also be because we didn't have him all bundled up (he hates being hot). Now we are home, safe and sound, Dylan is rolling around on the living room floor making rasberries at the cats as they walk by. I don't think I've ever been so happy. ************************************************************************************ I can't believe it's been two years! Time definitely has flown by. Gone are the days of an immobile Dylan. Gone are the days of a crawling Dylan. Hell, gone are the days of a simply walking Dylan. He runs, plays, talks, throws killer tantrums, he gives the most incredible smiles and hugs and kisses. He loves to draw (especially on walls, furniture & televisions) and play with coins and his friends. The kids in daycare adore him. Every morning all of the kids yell out "Hi Dylan" as we walk into the room. He just glances at his adoring fans and then blows them off for his breakfast. We are just so blessed!

This I Believe

This I believe Have a hankie ready!

Somebody please tell me

When the pain subsides. How long will it take to get the images of my father on his deathbed out of my head? How long till I can remember when my Dad was ok, not sick, not complaining. How long till I can forgive my brother? How long will it take to let things go? The meds are working... I believe. I just don't think there are any meds out there that can truly make this amount of pain subside. I don't know where I'd be without my boys. Honestly - I'd probably be dead. They are the reason I get out of bed in the morning. Dylan is getting so big! He's 23 months old (yesterday) and is just too funny. If you ask him what a chicken says - he tells you "bawk bawk" and flaps his wings. He loves dogs and every time we walk by one he yells doggie (which sounds very much like daddy). I need to get my fat ass back on weight watchers. I just saw some photos of myself and um, fuck, I'm gaining weight again. ~le sigh~

~Peaks out into Blogsphere~

Is anyone out there??? I'm sorry - I suck. Life has been crazy. My grandmother died at the end of January. My father... 7 days later. Yeah, way to start the year huh? I'm loving being a Mom. I'm loving watching Marc be a Dad. I'm loving watching Dylan grow. He's walking, signs like a champ, starting to talk more and more every day. I'm in a sort of "reunion". When my father died my brother came back into our lives. He may read this - I don't know. Frankly my dears (or what is left of you) I don't give a flying fuck on a rolling donut. Contrary to what people think or say... reunion blows chunks. I think reunion hurts more than estrangement. I don't know what to do or say. At this point, I'm just rolling with life. So on to happy things. Dylan is so fucking amazing I don't know how to put it into words. Tonight he killed me. He didn't want to go to bed so he tried something new.... as I put him into bed, he wrapped his arms around my arm and snuggled and wouldn't let go. I was tempted to crawl into his crib and go to sleep :) I'll try to be a better blogger.

Truer Words Never Spoken

One of my WW friends posted this letter to the editor and I thought (since I haven't posted in forever) to share it with whomever may still check in.... LOVE AND let love God gave me a gift, a wonderful son who happens to be gay. God does not give inferiors gifts. God does not make mistakes. This little boy that God gave to me is now a fine young man. But my son is treated like a second-class citizen by my church. Maybe my state constitution will treat him likewise. I pray that it will not. If you had a gay loved one in your family you would be a better person. You would be sensitive to the discrimination gays endure. You would realize that they, too, are entitled to mutual love. God will continue to send gay babies. We must take them into our hearts and our lives. That would please God. DOROTHY DONAHUE Norwell You can see the original letter to the editor HERE

SOMETHING TOO IMPORTANT NOT TO SHARE

Heartbreaking video that could save lives