First, the news that isn’t the news. Bill O’Reilly seems to think that now that this radical left wing guy you might know as Barack Obama (and really, I think Obama could slide a few more miles over to the left, myself) is going to be the leader of this fine nation, the country’s going to turn into the crazy hellhole that is San Francisco.

So… a big city that has homeless people, drugs, and sex. What’s next - is O’Reilly going to report about the blue sky? That water is wet? That fire is hot? Stay tuned, America!!

Yesterday, Matthew had a speech therapy evaluation by the regional center that does early intervention through the state (thanks, socialism!). We are eligible and qualify for speech therapy - he had to be at least 33% deficient, and while I don’t have the numbers, his other speech therapy evaluation came back at 40% deficient, and they saw how he was and pretty much agreed with the first assessment. He is on track developmentally in all areas except for speech and language. The pathologist was impressed by how well he listened to instructions.

They do everything in six month increments from the child’s birthday, so his next big milestone is in January. They will type everything up and send it to us - his IEFP (individual education family plan?) - and set some goals for him to achieve by then. She is going to look for in-home therapy providers, then clinic-based therapy providers (one of the biggest ones is at the Children’s Hospital, which is literally 3 blocks from home, so that’s nice), and then therapy providers to come to daycare - that is our last option as we want to be there while he’s getting his therapy.

So, bittersweet. Glad he’s getting help, so we will pursue this now, perhaps in conjunction with the insurance-based therapy too.

I can’t help but feel twinges and blasts of jealousy when I hear about other kids Matthew’s age (and younger) who are talking up a storm. I just want to talk to my kid and have a conversation with him. I want him to tell me that something hurts or is uncomfortable - I’m tired of the guessing game. But all in good time, I hope.

Then: 4 days old (in his own infant carseat):

Now: 2 years and 4 months old (in his sister’s infant carseat):

More here.

Yes we can.

I can’t tell you how many times I cried since Jon Stewart declared Barack Obama President-Elect. I look at Obama and I think about how tense I have been since he announced his candidacy. I have been forced to think, because of his historic campaign, about how my son, just by his luck of fate to be born to me and Josh, would never have a chance to do something as great as President. Sure, you can always tell your kid that he can be anything he wants to be, but when you don’t see anyone like you actually doing it, it becomes a pipe dream. Obama has changed all of that for me. I feel like I can tell Matthew that yes, yes he can become President if he wants to. I feel like I can tell my daughter one day that she can do the same - although we have not yet had a woman, I feel like the possibility, especially with Clinton and Palin this year, is not as farfetched as it once seemed.

Yes, yes you can. We can. We all can, and we all did.

The world is yours, Matthew. Take it and go.

Pediatric Speech and Language Initial Evaluation
Matthew Burnett, age 27 months, was seen for a speech and language evaluation with the following results:

Symbolic Play Skills: 24-27 months - within normal limits.
Receptive Language Skills: 24-27 months - within normal limits.
Expressive Language Skills: 15-16 months - 42% delay.
Speech Production Skills: 12-13 months - 53% delay.

Diagnostic Impressions: Moderate expressive language delay. Severe speech production impairment. Spirited child who likes to be in control and who appeared to be well and warmly bonded with his mother. Normal receptive language and symbolic play skills. Good potential for learning.

Recommendations: Speech/Language Therapy with caregiver involvement, 1 visit/week to start (may up visits to 2x/week when ready verbal repeating is established). Duration: 6 months, then re-evaluate skills. Referral to audiological assessment scheduled, contact regional center for client assessment.

Short-Term Goals: 1-2 months
1. Establish rapport with child and establish levels of 50% compliance by child with clinician-initiated activities that involve play.
2. Target x 10 1 syllable vowel-initiated or /h/-initiated words and establish 80% ability to imitate these words with correct vowel use in play.
3. Target x 10 bilabial-initiated 1 syllable words and establish 80% ability to imitate correct CV structure of these words in play.

Long-Term Discharge Goals: 6 months
1. Increase expressive language skills to a solid 24 month level.
2. Increase speech production skills to a solid 18 month level.

Other
Sweet, active little boy. Good play skills, but attention span appeared short in today’s new setting. It was a pleasure to work today with Matthew and his lovely mother.

Evidence of oral apraxia: Unable to rule out. Too young to reliably assess.
Evidence of developmental apraxia of speech: Unable to rule out. Paucity of intelligible vocal/verbal output.

(amusing note: for “Feeding Skills” - “Caregiver reports normal eating.” Did I ever! Ha!)

Oh, where to start. How about a smattering? None of the following items are in any chronological order.

1. Both Josh and I totally are over our asinine neighbors. Apparently multiple heated emails to our landlord are appropriate when we had the audacity to procreate and our devil spawn has the audacity to, you know, live. I am so over them it isn’t even funny. Poor Josh, he’s gotten some of the most, uh, colorful emails from me in my anger and frustration.
2. We spent almost four hours in the Children’s Hospital ER early Saturday morning because Matthew developed croup. Listening to your kid bark like a dog or a seal while he can hardly catch his breath is not my idea of fun. Neither is worrying about how much noise it’s causing (see #1) and then finding out that your worry was well placed because the asshole downstairs did indeed email the landlord. He is thabkfully doing a lot better - his pediatrician says to give him a spoonful of honey to help his cough. He doesn’t turn it down, that’s for sure.
3. Josh got me a sewing machine for my birthday (an early gift, my birthday is in mid-October) and wow, I totally love it. I am all thumbs and have torn things up and ripped out seams but it is fun.
4. On BART right now and the following is one of the most “conservative” conversations I have had in quite awhile. Teen girl: “There’s nothing wrong with being gay. I mean, I have lots of friends who are gay. But why stay in the closet? If you’re gay, come out. If you’re not, stay in.”
5. I am almost seven months pregnant and just now had the first person offer me a seat - out of guilt. I’d been sitting when a guy on crutches came on the train and stood there - no one sitting in the seats reserved for those with disabilities anknowledged him, so I got up. The girl I mentioned above took one look at my belly and sheepishly offered me her seat. I declined.
6. I am changing healthcare providers…seven months in. Long story short, I saw one of the two midwives the other day after a particularly bad headache. I took Advil for it, emailed my midwife, she asked me to come in for a blood pressure check. I did, and saw the other midwife, who spent most of the time we had (maybe 7 minutes?) lecturing me about how bad I was for taking Advil and how I hurt the baby’s heart, and then asked me if I took the glucose tolerance test, commonly administered during this point in pregnancy. I knew right then that she hadn’t even bothered to check my file before coming in. I told her I didn’t, because I already had diabetes, and she told me I should probably take it anyway to see how my body was tolerating it. Fuck that noise. And then she left as quickly as she came in.

   After thinking about it and steaming over it, I have decided that I didn’t even want to chance having this woman come within 50 feet of my body while giving birth. The hospital where I’ve been going has 3 midwives - 2 of whom are the ones in my office, and another guy in another office - yep, a guy midwife. So I did some research today and am having my medical records faxed over to UCSF, which has a huge midwife staff and is considered fairly low intervention, which is what I am aiming for. Once those records are faxed over, I’ll set up an appointment and hopefully find a midwife there who will not treat me like a sack of shit or like an ignorant sack of shit.

7. Matthew has been doing fairly well in his big boy bed, although tonight he was clearly pissed about something and so slapped my face (ugh) and put his hand over my mouth and told me “shh”. His teenage years are going to be a JOY. He’s also randomly saying Joe Biden, which is hilarious - at least someone’s talking about him.
8. Speaking of politics, I am utterly sick of Sarah Palin and her running mate, John McCain. I feel like this entire election is one gigantic clusterfuck of a reality tv show and it is sickening. It really ticks me off - regardless of who is in office, is it really too much to ask for people who are intelligent, respectful, and people who really would put “country first”? Apparently it is, McCain. Country first, my ass.

I think that’s about it.

I can’t help it. I am obsessed with Sarah Palin. I can’t stop talking about her at home and I have bored poor Josh to death with it. Tonight he will no doubt place a moratorium on sweet sweet romantic Palin talk before bed.

Part of me is naturally curious, I think, about the woman who may become our Vice President, and thus perhaps one day our President. In 1999 I spent about 3 months in Anchorage doing an internship there and so I also have a fond affection for one of the two noncontiguous states.

The other part of me is totally gawking, and for that I bear a little shame - but I am trying to forgive myself, as I don’t watch much TV and this is exciting stuff. The last few days have been sort of incredible, from the “Is Sarah Palin passing off Trig as her own?” conspiracy theory to what seems like the truth now, her daughter’s pregnancy, and all of the things that have popped up elsewhere. Part of me is really ticked - is this the best McCain could do? Palin’s thin resume aside, can we please for the love of God have someone who knows how to manage their public image, maybe a little?

I am hoping by the weekend my fascination with Governor Palin ebbs a little. I am becoming quite unbearable and if not, I will need a 12 step program to detox (which she’d probably not approve of funding for, but whatever).

A few more things Matthew has done lately:

Words -
- back! He said this the other day when I took him to the park, he met Eleanor the nosy 3 year old* and her nanny. Nanny said, “Eleanor, come back toward the center of the park please!” Matthew got all bossy and said, “Back! Back!” while pointing toward the park. I can’t imagine where he gets his bossiness from. Ahem.

- Josh! I blame my husband for that. We are nipping this one right in the bud, I’ll tell you what.

- Go! Yesterday, Josh’s grandmother (henceforth known as GGP) came by with cousins Clio and Lara to take them, Matthew, and me to Fairyland. When they were outside, I told Matthew, “Great Grandma is here, do you want to go see her?” Matthew RAN to the top of the stairs, which are fairly steep and he’s still a little hesitant about them, and stood there and demanded, “GO! GO!”

Routines
- Usually at bedtime we read Goodnight Moon (sigh), turn the light out and sing a song. Lately, Matthew sits in his own chair or on the bed and reads a book to himself while we read Goodnight Moon to Quincy, his biracial doll. And tonight, he just took the book and “read” to himself, sing-songy and waving “nigh nigh” to the old lady whispering hush, and then kissed the book when he was done.

- We are going to have to do this transition to a bed soon, I think. He amuses himself in his crib nowadays by stripping down naked or nearly naked and playing with whatever he finds. It’s really that gross. One of these days he will potty train, right? RIGHT?

*Eleanor: “How old is he?”
Casey: “He’s 2. How old are you?”
Eleanor: “I’m three.” Pause. “How old are you?”
Casey: “I’m 31.”
Eleanor: “How old is that?”

- I got Matthew a kid-sized broom and dustpan, because this boy is crazy about sweeping, and it’s always nice when he sweeps and doesn’t poke his mother in the eye because his aim is that of a drunk on a highway at 3am. “Matthew, can you help Mama sweep the dog hair?” Of course he could - he chased our elderly Ava girl all over the apartment with a maniacal laugh and finally Ava succumbed and laid down on her back and he swept her head and belly.

- “Matthew can you give the baby a kiss?” He reaches up to me, lifts my shirt, pulls down my pants and carefully kisses my belly, and then pats it before covering me back up again.

- We went to a bookstore today and sat in the kids’ section. He picked up a few books but wasn’t terribly interested, until he saw Goodnight Moon and then demanded to read it. Because reading it EVERY SINGLE NIGHT for his entire life wasn’t enough. I’d put it back, he’d want it again, so I acquiesced. “Good night light and the red balloon; Good night bears, good night chairs…” All those books and still Goodnight Damned Moon.

- Scene: Matthew wants milk. This is how he tells me he wants it. If I am at my desk, he will physically roll me back, turn me around and then pat my hand gently saying, “Wah! Wah!” very patiently. “Use your words, Matthew!” Pat, pat. “Wah! Wah!” Then he’ll take my hand and attempt to pull me to my feet and walk me to the kitchen where he will point up to the cupboard where we keep his sippy cups. I get one. Then he opens the refrigerator (side note, we need childproof doohickeys on the fridge) and yanks out the gallon of 1% milk and hands it to me. Ah, so you wanted milk. Got it!

- “Matthew it’s time to take a bath!” Matthew runs into the bathroom, gently lays himself down on the throw rug and lifts his legs into the air so I can get him undressed and his diaper off.

- Matthew loves walking down the street lately. Apparently when Josh picks him up from daycare, it can sometimes take nearly an hour to get home if Matthew walks most of the way (about a mile!). It’s not necessarily that he is slow, but he is pokey. He likes to hug the lamppost, inspect gravel, grass, and other things on the ground, burst into tears when the buses go by and they don’t get on them.

- He still loves kissing, hugging and blowing kisses. It is too cute for words. Sometimes it is too sloppy and gross for words too. That’s my boy.

Dear Mama:

Wasn’t it fun when I let you sleep in this morning, until 8am? I thought so - I had fun amusing myself! I figured I’d change my own diaper in the crib - so I got naked, pulled off the cover, unsnapped all of the snaps after I pooped, and helpfully wiped it on the sheets and pillow. ROCK ON! That was super fun!

Buzzkill: when Baba heard me calling out for you guys when I got bored and hauled my naked butt out. Dang. Then you tossed me into the tub and scrubbed me head to toe. I like baths, but not when you actually wash me. Sheesh.

Love,
Matthew
TODDLERS REPRESENT

OK, all pregnancy entry up and coming! Beware!

I am now 19 weeks along. This pregnancy is going by so fast - it is amazing, in retrospect, how much time I had to navel gaze when I was pregnant with Matthew. Now, things are blazing by at an amazing speed, which is just as well! We are all quite excited about Baby Girl Cajo’s arrival…

That’s right! The baby is a girl! Here is a picture of her foot, where she has been heartily practicing the best ways to kick her mama’s butt (she’s doing a great job of it in utero, I will have you know):

Everything looks great and she’s on track gestationally, so that’s always a plus.

Diabetes - while pregnant, is a pain in the tuchas. My insulin needs are increasing as per expected as the placenta grows, I feel like a human pin cushion (Josh affectionately calls me a heroin addict), and it’s always a game - “Good morning! Let’s see how much two slices of whole wheat bread, peanut butter and sugar free jam will spike you now!” Otherwise, we’re okay in this area now. I gave Matthew an old insulin pen to play with after I was done with it and he saw me injecting one morning and uncapped his pen, lifted his shirt, and pressed his against his belly. Too cute. Let’s hope he never has to do that for real.

Other symptoms. Still exhausted. Still nauseated (this is actually lessening as of this past week, fingers crossed). Anxious for this phase to ebb!

My word, how big are you? I have a belly. I have had a belly since about 12 weeks but now it’s not as squishy anymore. And amusingly enough, I am actually down about 4 pounds from the time I got pregnant.

Way to help me lose my shit: tell me that the integrated screening came back “screen positive” for Trisomy 21 (Downs Syndrome). These last two days have been slightly excruciating. I had an amniocentesis today to get some more information about the baby’s chromosomal structure, but wow, talk about stress - that combined with pregnancy hormones had me bursting into tears every twenty minutes. Lame. Anyway, one fun thing did come out of this entire deal - Baby Girl Cajo (no, we are not sharing her name until she makes a final appearance) today at the ultrasound right before the amnio yawned and the tech caught it on film.

So, right now we wait - we elected to get the FISH results (a faster way to get initial data - within 2-3 days) and the final complete results will come in 10-12 days. I am feeling better, statistically, about everything happening, but I think we will still be anxious until we find out definitively one way or the other.

Matthew has been cracking us up lately. His latest favorite thing to say is “baby” while he looks for pictures of babies on the computer or in one of his books. When we ask him, “Do you want to kiss the baby?” he’ll lift my shirt and kiss my belly.

Lest you think he is ready and understands that his little world is going to tip upside down in four months (!!!!!), he is still hugging and cuddling his Gloworm and then hurling it on the floor and walking away. Troublemaker.

Cute, though:

He’s now over 3 feet tall, weighs over 37 lbs, and is wearing size 3T and 4T. Huge. And because of the amnio, I’ve been instructed for the next couple of days not to lift anything heavier than 10 lbs. Ha!