I don’t like hats.
Mom! I don’t like hats! Leave me alone!
Get it off me! I DON’T LIKE HATS!
Why are you torturing me? LEAVE ME ALONE!
This is all you’re getting. Take your stupid picture.
My willful child: in pictures.
March 1, 2010
Fashion show! Fashion show! Fashion show at lunch!
February 25, 2010
One benefit to having had Atticus much later than most of my friends had their kids, is that once everyone decides they’re done with kids and ready to give stuff away for good, I’m here with open arms waiting to receive it. A couple months ago one of my very favorite cousins, Karen, was cleaning out the well appointed closets of her two little boys and gifted me with two garbage bags full of clothes. Then my sister-in-law Mari did the same thing. This little guy has more clothes than I do.
And Mari and Karen both have great taste, so he wears way more stylish clothes than I do too. Although given that half of my wardrobe is made up of yoga pants, that’s probably not saying too much.
Here are a few of my favorites:
This shirt makes his eyes look so green, and the little madras pants have just the right amount of “little man” look mixed with the whimsy of “little boy.”
This picture also illustrates why I’ve called him “Mr. Baby” since I met him. He’s always been like an adult trapped in a tiny body.
I’m partial to “little rocker” clothes myself, as opposed to the “little surfer” look I see so often around here. Even if Atti could walk I don’t think he’d be a surfer. He’s a rocker to the core. From his early mohawk, to his obsession with music, to that stubborn little attitude he sports. This shirt has a silkscreened tie with a little faux button on it that says “Punk”. Combined with the thin wale corduroys, he looks like the lead singer of ACDC to me.
This is my favorite shirt he’s ever owned. A guitar with wings on the front, and then those sleeves. The sleeves!
They’re tattoo sleeves!
I make him wear this shirt whenever it’s clean.
The sad fact is that we’ve been given so many clothes, he might not even get around to wearing them all. But that means that once he grows out of them they’ll still be in such great condition we can spread the good fortune around.
Tomorrow I’ll share what I made Karen as a thank you present.
Atti and his Entourage
February 23, 2010
We just finished up a big meeting where a bunch of the people who help Atti get care all get together in a room and discuss how he’s doing and what we want him to do better, and like any good blogger I couldn’t let them leave without snapping a picture.
I give thanks at least once a day that I live in California, where early intervention is such a high priority and the state funds such amazing programs, but I also give thanks for the amazing team of people I’m surrounded by who want nothing but the best for Atticus and show him such genuine love and care.
One of the questions they ask in this meeting is, “Who gives your family the support you need.” They want to make sure you’re not dealing with everything on your own. That you have family or friends, a community, helping you to deal with all the responsibilities that come with a child with special needs. It took me a second to come up with an answer that wasn’t, “Well, I’ve got you guys!”
I almost wish every mother could have their very own team of specialists. There have been so many times when I felt like I didn’t know what I was doing and there were all these people who were there to help me figure it out. When I start to beat myself up I have a team that shows me how much I’m doing. When I worry that I’m not getting it right, there is a line of people telling me how I am.
I don’t have a mom or grandma to provide those encouraging voices. My sisters all live far away. But we still have our team, cheering us on, recognizing every little progression, strengthening my resolve. It is such a gift.
Neverending Mama Guilt
February 17, 2010
After naming my child Atticus you’d probably assume that I take him to the library every day, that we lounge around bookstores in our free time, that he’s already worked his way through the entire Seuss oeuvre. Not so much.
Oh it’s a sad fact of life that there are only so many hours in a day, and we all must pick and choose what we’re going to spend our time on. And even the most virtuous non-time-wasters still have to decide what good thing they’re going to have to do without. There’s just. too. much. to do. And for us, for now, the thing that we’re doing without is a ton of time reading books and out exploring the world.
Up until now, I haven’t felt too bad about it. I’m pretty realistic with myself and I’ve learned to say no over the years. I wouldn’t have thought I’d take it so personally that I can’t do everything, but now I’m starting to worry if I’m impacting his development.
He jabbers constantly, way way more than many of his friends, but his ratio of actual words is probably lower. And after last week’s zoo trip it got me thinking that maybe he could do more if I spent more time exposing him to more. Maybe if I was constantly reading to him, or taking him out to explore one new place after the other, maybe he would be able to talk and interact more. Maybe I’m inflicting my homebody-ness on him and he would be better off if I came up with a different approach. So then I get weepy and beat myself up for a while.
But then I have to remind myself that language is not the only issue we’re dealing with, and that’s one that he’ll probably, almost definitely, be able to catch up on, and that it’s far more important to address his physical needs. But since that is somewhat easier for me, seeing as it involves a whole lot of floor time and getting him to crawl around the house – which Gizmo takes care of for me, I naturally tell myself that I’m just taking the easy way out.
I suppose there’s no way to make it out of this motherhood gig without second guessing yourself. I just wish I could get it through my head that I don’t have to do it all, at least all at the same time.
Atti goes to the zoo
February 12, 2010
My friend Cynthia and I finally managed to align our schedules this week, so she took us to the Wild Animal Park. I was really going for a nice day out with a friend, I really didn’t think Atti would care too much about what was going on. He’s still pretty internal and really doesn’t do much but observe. I expected to spend the day chatting with Cynthia, watching her adorable kids frolic, and pushing Atti in the stroller. I was dead wrong.
He loved it. He totally loved it. The day was absolutely thrilling for me. Not only did I get to see my pensive little guy open right up to the world, but since it was my first trip to the animal park too, I found the whole thing pretty magical.
Atticus had no fear. We went into the Lorkeet exhibit where you can buy some nectar and let them crawl all over you to get to it. Atti kept saying, “Kitty! Kitty!” and reaching out to pet them. This little bird even gave him a gentle little love nibble.
He would not stop staring at that lion, and the lion stared right back. [Vanity side note – I really should have put on makeup or brushed my hair properly. I should have known there would be pictures. What am I, new?]
The most magical part of the whole day for me was seeing the cheetahs. I was obsessed with cheetahs when I was little, but every single time I’ve ever been to a zoo the cheetahs were way back at the edge of their habitat, or hiding inside their little cheetah house. The wild animal park is set up so that everything appears to be so close, and we had the best luck ever to come right at feeding time. We got to watch these three breathtaking animals prowl around, stalking the segway riders, and then eating their ground meat snacks while the trainer stood around answering questions. My inner third grader was doing cartwheels.
Testament that Atti loves the zoo? He still refuses to say Mama, but looking at this strange little creature he busted out, “Okapi!”
They say it’s your birthday….
February 8, 2010
I had so much on my plate lately, I could not wrap my brain around planning a party or making a cake. So I just bought a few presents and Bear did every other thing. Including this cake.
He was adorable, preparing the cutting template weeks ago, making a practice version, going to the cake store to pick out supplies. I had some friends over when he was out shopping and he called me to warn me that he spent a lot at the cake store, so I said back “Don’t worry, I’ll pay you back when I go to Home Depot later.” My friends loved that exchange. Take that gender roles!
Bear made a yellow cake with chocolate ganache filling and buttercream frosting under fondant. For the first time in his whole life I not only let him taste cake, but I actually took off the mean mom hat long enough to cut him his own slice and let him go to town.
I think Atti will be a neat freak like me, because after a half hearted attempt he just begged me to feed him from a spoon.
I wanted to get another picture of him in his birthday crown from last year, but he would not hear of it. He can’t stand hats of any kind, including hoodies. But I can’t really blame him. His hair has always been what draws in the ladies.
We barely got into present opening when Atti had a mighty crash and had to sleep off the cake while his party went on without him. I begged everyone to not buy us toys – since he still plays with the ones he’s had since he was 6 months old, we do not need more toys – and instead get us books. We got some great stuff. But I had to get him one purely fun thing, so, since he’s such a fan of bubble time in therapy, I bought him a bubble blower machine. To save poor mama’s lungs.
His cousins loved it.
2 years old
February 4, 2010
Today is Atti’s second birthday, and I’m rendered nearly speechless. I can’t count the number of times someone told me, “Treasure this time! It goes so fast!” but boy howdy, they were not kidding. How do I have a two year old?
In some ways I don’t. He’s caught up on the growth chart, but developmentally he’s much younger. Even aside from the whole not walking part. I had another preemie mom tell me that her doctor explained it took 1 year for every month of prematurity for them to catch up to their peers. So theoretically, by the time Atti’s three he’ll be socially and emotionally caught up. He’s already making big strides. Throwing tantrums like any toddler worthy of the title. Learning to come out of his little shell and play with other kids. Capturing more words every day.
The other day I was bent over cleaning up a mess he made, and Atti came up behind me and surprised me with a smack on the bum. I jumped in the air and said, “You goosed me!” and ever since he’s been crawling around the house saying “Goose, goose, goose.” With just the tiniest bit of a baby lisp.
He’s just blossoming all of a sudden. After working on it for a solid year of therapy, he finally decided he was ready to start waving Bye-bye. But instead of doing it when we asked, he’d crawl off into a corner and practice by himself. I’d find his little legs sticking out from under the table and hear “buh bye. Bye, ba bye.” As he stared at his hand and willed it to move back and forth. I’ve been reading stories to him his whole life, but overnight he went from bored to fascinated and now he throws a fit if he doesn’t get to have as many stories as he commands. He kisses the baby in the book, and turns the pages by himself.
He’s in this amazing limbo state. Part of him is becoming so aware of the world, so keen to interact and discover, and the other part of him is still my baby. While writing this I had to stop three times to give snuggle breaks. He crawls over to me and pulls on my pant leg to check in for a snuggle before he goes back to playing with his toys. He still loves kisses so much that I can motivate him to keep working through therapy by just saying, “Mama has kisses for you! Come and get kisses!” and then he will.
This little guy brings me so much happiness it’s almost embarrassing. Whenever I talk about him with his therapists and teachers, I catch myself grinning like a fool and I can’t wipe it off. I’m so proud of him I can barely stand it. My little champion.
My little cowboy
January 28, 2010
There is one thing that every single therapeutic professional I’ve encountered has counseled me to do. Everyone from Atti’s neonatologist to other mom’s I bump into at therapy. Every single person who knows has told me to get Atticus into the REINS program.
Similar programs exist around the nation, but we’re lucky enough to have a first-class therapeutic hippotherapy organization about 20 minutes up the freeway.
Hippotherapy sounds fancy, but it’s simply horse therapy. They take kids who have any number of disabilities, Cerebral Palsy like Atticus, ADD, Autism, Vision or Hearing impairments, Down Syndrome, kids recovering from accidents, or even just an unspecified developmental delay, and give them time riding a horse. The benefits are myriad. Often kids who are unresponsive to people will open up to an animal. It’s great for core strengthening and muscle stretching. Feeling the rhythm of the horse’s steps is great input for someone like Atti who needs to tell his feet how to move in a different way from the rest of us, and it’s a way of doing intensive physical therapy in a way that is fun instead of painful.
Some kids get scared their first time, but I knew Atti would take right to it. The instructors commented on how he had no fear. Notice how he even keeps up his steady flirting while trying to keep himself upright.
And listen to him giggle! Oh the good that does my heart!
When our time was up they walked Atti into the tack room to get some carrots and fed our pony Pancho a treat to say thanks for his hard work. Atti dug both hands right into his hair and sweet little Pancho didn’t even flinch.
This day was so wonderful, watching my little guy have so much fun and gain some independence on a beautiful clear day in the country, surrounded by orange and apple trees growing fruit for the kids to feed the horses. I just felt like I’d left my hectic overcommitted life and found a moment of peace. My cup feels full. I think this is going to turn out to be therapeutic for Atti and me.
Where Atti Stands Now
January 18, 2010
It’s been awhile since I had one of my breakdowns worrying about Atti reaching milestones. When a premature baby hits two years old, they stop adjusting for the prematurity. Most of the time that delay has sorted itself out by then, and when it hasn’t, counting them a few months younger isn’t going to mean a lot.
Now that he’s nearly two, he’s missed pretty much all the milestones I think he’s going to miss. And that brings an odd kind of freedom. I no longer have to panic as another skill whizzes past us. Now I just get to dig in and focus on what he can do. For Atti, I feel pretty confident that his ability right now is as bad as it’s going to get.
And we still have time for things to get a whole lot better.
Atti has mastered the commando crawl. He races around this house crawling on his belly like a soldier in the mud, winding up in the oddest locations. He seems to be growing unsatisfied with this method, because finally, after years of failed attempts in therapy, he’s discovering his hands and knees. This kid is on a schedule of his own and he will not. be. rushed.
I’ve really been working on his little thigh muscles lately. Lots of stretching and pull to stand exercises, and it is paying off big time. It doesn’t hurt that he spends more and more time playing with friends who stand up and run around, and heaven forbid someone do something that he can’t.
He can’t stand on his own yet, he still needs a lot of support, but what this all means is that he’s going to do it. He’s going to figure it all out, and he’s going to be just fine.
Partners in Crime
January 12, 2010
When we lost our sweet Lobo last year, it was a major loss for our family. We hadn’t had him that long but he was such a good boy with Atticus we loved him twice as hard.
Back in July we bought our newest little Gizmo. We picked a brand new kitten because we knew that we would be asking a lot from this little cat, and we thought that if we started young, we may be able to train him. As much as a cat can ever really be trained.
When I look through the photos from 2009, it’s amazing how often some little part of Gizmo pops up in all the pictures I take of Atti. Particularly when a mess is involved. They seem to egg each other on somehow.
Gizmo never ventures far from his boy. He eats his table scraps, chases the balls Atti throws, sniffs at the robot Elmo while he wiggles, and supervises any therapists that come to the house. He’s very protective.
Atti’s often covered in cat scratches, but never anything painful. Just little warning jabs when he gets especially rowdy. This sweet cat puts up with an awful lot. When Atti starts to pull his fur too hard, Giz will reach out and put a paw on his forehead and push, just like a bigger kid on the playground saying, “Try and get me. I dare you try and get me” While Atti flails away getting nowhere.
People often ask me how I get so much done in a day, and the truth is that Gizmo handles most of Atti’s therapy. Atticus chases him from one end of the house to the other, and when he catches him, Gizmo just gets up and moves a few more feet away.
It’s almost like Atti has a really fuzzy older brother.