Twelve

Things I like about my husband:

He still wakes up early with the kids every other morning and gives them their bath every other night. It's my understanding that many dads don't do this, and I can tell you- it rocks.

His default emotion is joyful/content.

He is boyishly charming in his enthusiasm for Texas Longhorn football, and I get to cash in on that with season tickets and trips to Dallas for TX/OU.

He'd rather read than watch TV (which gives me free reign over the DVR).

He does nothing to excess.

He takes care of lawn and car maintenance, which I hate doing myself (Okay, I have never actually mowed a lawn, but I feel certain that it sucks).

Everywhere that he has worked, patients bring him gifts for holidays, and take the time to tell me how well he takes care of them. He is kind and generous with people.

He's really tall, and can reach things on the top shelf for me.

If he "can't think of anything else", he gives spa packages at Lake Austin as gifts.

He restricts his commentary to rolling his eyes when I drive over curbs (to see the value in this, you should know that I do it CONSTANTLY).

Okay, there's a lot more I like about him, but you get the idea. I ended up with a better partner than I could have ever imagined for myself, and certainly a better man than I deserve. We started dating only a few weeks before he graduated, and only a few weeks after he ended a long-term relationship. I felt sure that I had missed my chance with him, and it makes me panic to think of all that I would have missed. That single blessing has led to pretty much all other blessings in my life, and I can never say how grateful I am. Corbin, you are the best thing that ever happened to me. Thank you for every day we've had together. Here's to the next twelve and the next and the next. Happy Anniversary.

Give

Do it for her

I met Ashley in nursing school, and we were fast friends. Really, the only way I made it through pharmacology was gossiping and sharing the daily crossword with her, (and then later having to cram intensely for the two hours prior to an exam, which we all know is the very best way to learn). In this picture, me and Ashley (she's on the right) and our friend Bea are celebrating graduation, just weeks before Elena was born. This is just around the time Ashley and Lee began trying for a family. Elena is just finishing kindergarten, but Ashley's arms are still empty. The past six years have been filled with tears, hormones, costly procedures, and ultimately, five failed IVF procedures. Five. Now, at long last, she has met her babies and they will hopefully come home with her very soon. In one way, at least, she has been lucky. Her babies are doing well in their orphanage, despite the crushing conditions. Many other babies are not as lucky, and they need our help.



Do it for them

Ashley and her husband Lee are just what you might picture when you think about ideal parents. They volunteer with the homeless, and participate in the Big Brothers/Big Sisters program; they are active in their church; they are well-educated and able to provide for children; Lee is a children's musician; they are fun-loving, kind, and generous. If we all had to have such rigorous criteria to be parents, the world would be a nicer place. Really though, what it all comes down to is this: They desperately want to be parents, and their babies need and deserve to be loved and cared for. The orphanage is the bridge between the two parts of this family, and they are struggling mightily. (They took this picture in NYC just minutes before finding out that they were matched with their babies. Despite everything they went through, they believed.)



Do it for the babies

There are more than 4 million orphans in Ethiopia. The total population of Austin is less than 2 million. Really, I just can't wrap my mind around that. These are human beings, children, no different from my children or yours, and no less deserving of a family. Many of them are sick and have needs that will never be met. It feels hopeless, but it is possible to help. Even the smallest contribution matters. Diapers. Formula that won't have to be diluted to stretch for every child who needs it. A clean place to sleep. You'd be amazed by what you could provide with so little.

Do it for you

You always hear, "Give 'til it hurts", but I say, "Give 'til it feels good". You'll never regret it. No matter how much or how little you can spare, it makes a difference in their lives and in yours. There are so many good reasons to give these days, and so many causes that need our help. It can be completely overwhelming. I just do what I guess we all do- choose the things that move me most, and do something. I hope that you will be moved to help these families find each other, and to share your blessings.

http://ourbabybots.blogspot.com/

Swan

I've been thinking about my sister and this time in her life since Black Swan came out. Rest assured, she had a much more pleasant experience with her ballet career, and a far more graceful exit. I remember her leaving for New York on my very first day of high school, and how much changed on that day. I wouldn't trade a minute of my time in high school (though my fashion choices remain a mystery), but our experiences were so different. I mean, she took her SAT with Vanessa from the Cosby show. I'm pretty sure I ended up at Denny's with Sarah, Jim and Greg after mine.

I guess I just envy that she had that time in her life that was truly extraordinary. I wonder sometimes if there is still something in me that might make me special in that way. My fantasy WAS to write a critically-acclaimed novel, which Oprah would then put on her list (I love Oprah- I can't help it). I can't BELIEVE she's retiring. Now I have to come up with a new plan. Also, it's sort of unlikely that I would be able to write such a book, seeing as I lack the imagination, talent and tenacity. Also, I subscribe to US weekly, which doesn't seem very writerly.

What I do have are my own extraordinary moments, the ones that changed my life. The day Corbin first asked me out, just outside of the tower at UT. I was already sure about him, even then. The little moments I had with patients and their families in my brief career as a nurse- when you know that person has been stripped bare, is opening their true self to you. The morning I found out I was pregnant with Elena, and held on to that delicious secret all day before telling Corbin. The ultrasound that showed I was having twins, and the first time I held them and thought, "Oh God, now what?".

All I have ever really wanted was a happy home, but that is not such a simple thing. Many people who are wildly successful in other ways never have that, so I recognize my unbelievable luck. It is, in a way, extraordinary.

Peachy

This morning, I dropped off Laney and Jonah at school. Jonah greeted his teacher, took her hand, and followed her into the school, with a last wave and smile for me. One week ago, I was prying a screaming toddler away from my body, thrusting him at his teacher, and walking quickly away, tears running down my face. Certainly not a gold-star parenting moment.

I simply can't believe the change in Jonah over just one week. He clearly loves his new school, and his new teacher pretty much rocks. Ms. Peachey. I admit- her name makes me love her even more. I think all special educators are amazing, but Ms. Peachey is remarkable. Her ability to read children and support their needs is unbelievable. Last year, she wrote a grant to get her kids a second room filled with sensory equipment. If you've ever had the misfortune of writing grants, you know that it's a huge undertaking- something you wouldn't do unless you really cared. She also made sure that we spent a lot of time with her in the classroom before Jonah started the program. That has made all the difference, for Jonah and for me.

The adjustment has been hardest, I think, on me and Gabby. She keeps asking where everyone is (especially Jonah), and I'm like- hush up, you. I'm trying to hold it together! We are adjusting, again, to a new normal. I feel certain now that we made the right choice to go forward with this program, and I can already see doors opening for Jonah, big changes ahead. But, the truth is, I miss him like crazy. When I picked him up on Friday, he fussed about leaving. So, that's good- he obviously loves it there. But. Oh, you knew there was a "but". I'm worried about losing the strength of our connection, worried (if I'm being honest) about not being #1 anymore.

I know. There's no pleasing me, right? I want him to be happy and do well, not to cry when I take him to school in the morning. But, I still want him to miss me and to show that in some way. I'm trying to keep a lid on my crazy, but with limited success. What can I say? I am a flawed human being.

Anyway, things are good. Jonah's teachers feel that he'll catch up with no problems, and be ready for kindergarten when he's 5. Magic words. All in all, we're just Peachey (oh, come on, I HAD to do it).

Favorite

When Jonah was just five weeks old, he caught a cold that Elena brought home from preschool. He spiked a fever, I took him to the pediatrician, it was fine. He developed a chunky cough, I took him to the pediatrician, it was fine. Days later, when he was still sick, I took him in again, knowing that they would roll their eyes at me, and send us home. Instead, I got the face.

You know the face. Suddenly, everyone is quiet, listening, waiting for the words. The nurse checked Jonah's oxygen saturation. Low 80s. Instantly, I could hear the blood pounding in my ears, feel my heart start to race. The rapid test for RSV came back negative, good news/bad news. Not RSV, good. Pneumonia? Already, I knew that we would have to go to the hospital for testing. What I was not prepared for was that Jonah would have to be taken there by ambulance. I can tell you, watching my newborn baby boy getting strapped into the back of an ambulance... it was bad. And once you see that, you can't erase it. It's one of the clearest images in my memory, I am sorry to say.

We made the long ride to the hospital with me holding Jonah's far-too-large oxygen mask in place, so the medic could work. When we got there, I knew it was going to be rough. Many, many attempts to start a line on a dehydrated newborn. Snapping his tiny body into an immobilizer for x-rays. Some wise, kind nurse suggested we leave the room for the spinal tap, which I will always be grateful for. They urged us to go eat- it was going to be a long night. So, we went to the cafeteria, put plates of food on our trays, and then sat there just staring at it, tears in our eyes.

In the end, pneumonia was ruled out in favor of bronchiolitis, we spent a couple of days in the hospital getting Jonah fluids and medications, and everything was fine. But. I think that that very day, my brain was hardwired to think- fragile, special, different. As it turns out, I was right. I've been accused of treating Jonah as a favorite, but that's not it, really. He just needs me more, has always needed me more. Honestly, the girls have always been tougher, more resilient, more independent, whether by design or by default. Don't misunderstand, they get their share of attention. Lord, do they ever. But, if I have to work twice as hard to get a smile out of Jonah, I'm going to do it, every time.

The truth is, they're all my favorite. When the babies were born, I wondered if I could ever love them as much as Elena, given that she had a two-year lead, and was obviously the best baby in the world. Gabby makes me laugh all day long, is a world-class smarty pants, and is stinkin' cute, if I say so myself. And you know how I feel about Jonah, my beautiful, wonderful boy. I love them all to the point of breathlessness, and they're all my favorite.

Vaccines? Still? Seriously.

So, I follow Autism Speaks on FB, but I'm going to have to stop looking at it. The new study in the news this morning, suggesting a link between closely-spaced pregnancies and autism, is causing the usual ruckus.

Folks, the study does NOT say that IF your kids are less than two years apart, they WILL be autistic. There is merely an increased risk/incidence, even after adjusting for age, race, education, etc. It is an area of scientific interest, not a scape-goat.

Nevertheless, the boards are lit up with angry parents fuming that we are being fed a pack of LIES. That somehow our boogey-man government is trying to "distract" us from the real problem (vaccinations, naturally). Look, I'm pissed that my kid has these difficulties to overcome, and I would like to know what the causes are too, but when I read these responses, it makes me feel even more alone.

I just don't understand why we are STILL talking about vaccines. The ONE "study" that showed a link of any kind was done by Andrew Wakefield. The study was retracted by the Lancet, Wakefield lost his medical license, and now it has been revealed that he deliberately falsified his results, in addition to having a conflict of interest (some of the participants were litigants in a suit against the vaccine manufacturer). And keep in mind, there were only 12 subjects in the study to begin with. AND, now children are dying of PREVENTABLE diseases. For. No. Reason.

Several parents made posts to the tune of: show me the studies comparing autism rates in vaccinated vs. un-vaccinated kids, and then I'll listen. Um. Okay. There are literally dozens, including a Japanese study (Honda, Shimizu, Rutter, 2005) with a gigantic sample size. Meanwhile, Wakefield's findings have NEVER been reproduced in ANY study, and if your findings can't be reproduced by your peers, you got junk.

I just don't understand the dedication to this issue, when it has been proven, again and again, that there is not a link. How many research dollars are we going to waste disproving this nonsense? There IS a cause (or, more likely, many), and we really need to move on find out what it is/they are.

I mean, is it just me? Anyone? Anyone?

Crazy Train

Okay, so I suck at blogging.

Anyway.

So, this is a shameless bid for support. Jonah will start his PPCD program on Monday the 17th. Cue shallow breathing, sleepless nights, hysterical bursts of tears. I really just got used to sending him to preschool 10 hours per week, and now I'm sending him to the elementary school for 25 hours per week. Bad thoughts: I feel like I'm handing off my kid for someone else to "fix". I feel like I'm ripping him away from his twin. I'm afraid that the close connection we have will suffer with all these hours apart.

Rational thoughts: He is autistic, and needs 20+ hours per week of DTT, plus speech and OT. I am obviously not qualified to do any of this myself (and even if I were, Gabby would just jump in with the answers before Jonah could even respond). Plus, he needs the social interaction with a real peer group. His new school schedule will also allow me to put some of my focus on Gabby, which she deserves, because let's face it- the squeaky wheel gets the grease, and she's been pushed to the back of the line far too often.

Jonah has responded so well to private therapies, and I suspect that he will really take off in this program, but I'm letting my fears get the best of me, as usual. Right? Like, this is the right decision and all will be well and Jonah will thrive. Right?

Oh, and PS- Did you know that there is a particularly unattractive form of psoriasis that you can get following a strep infection and/or period of extreme stress? Oh, yes. For extra fun this holiday season, I upgraded from garden-variety housewife frump to full-on gargoyle. Ho ho ho. Thank God for steroids.