Quiet.

I have learned to listen through silence. I am good at deducing gestures: the flutter of an eyelash, the wave of a hand.

I have become an expert at interpreting cries: high pitched, low pitched, and here we sit---somewhere lost between the lines. I will remain between the lines with Elliot until he can speak, perhaps just a word or two. Really, I bet that I will always be in that special place with him…interpreting, as if he was a little boy trying to communicate in a far away country.

My attention to detail is unmatched. I will consistently defend intentions when he fails. “Well, yes, that sound means xxx.” “This sound means xxx.”

For he tries; he tries so damn hard, but nothing comes out. His little body tenses up and he moves his mouth, but nothing. Nothing but a drone (if that). The sign language “lessons” from me – Momma – seem to be in vein. I try so hard.

I know. He’s a boy. He’s also a boy with Down syndrome. I hear it all of the time. Boys are slower to speak. Boys with Down syndrome? Well…please, please Elliot…please just say something.

We mastered “up” a few weeks ago.

But, it’s gone. Mysteriously, the word has left his vocabulary.

We had a great Fourth of July. A really great day. But today I sit here and I work with him. Depressed. I forgot about it all yesterday. I forgot the liver enzymes. I forgot it all. Today, (at least this afternoon) it’s back.

Maybe tomorrow?

Happy Day!

We had a fantastic day yesterday. Elliot’s Godmother invited us over for a cul-de-sac block party of sorts. They had everything from an underground pool, to piñatas for the kids, a margarita machine and loads of BBQ. Elliot was finally able to experience his first swim and he was totally captivated by the pool. Yes, he has always loved bath time, but a bath tub the size of a back yard? Look out!

We later retreated home, to join our neighbors in the display. Isaac had quite enough pool and sun (and I had too many margaritas). To my astonishment, both boys stayed up past dark and were not bothered at all with the pops and clamor.

Of course, as in typical Nora fashion, she woke up at 2:30 a.m. and vomited. Her poor tummy can never handle more than just a little junk food. Despite that, however, we had the best Independence Day ever!

Happy Independence Day!

Was this photo actually taken one year ago today?

Wow – how my boy has grown. Of course, after I gather all three, I’ll update with current photos from today’s festivities.

Festivities, of course, which I can now partake in. For the last two years, on the Fourth of July, I have been pregnant: 7 months with Elliot in 2006 and 6 months with Isaac in 2007~ CRAZY! Of course, I never carried full-term with both of them. Elliot – born at 32 weeks; Isaac at 36.

And this year, no babe in my tummy. Instead two in my arms! Loving life!

Happy day to all.

Elliot - dear Elliot.

Hepatitis A…B…C are out. But, that’s all I know.

Elliot sleeps – and sleeps – and drones – and will not eat. I’m mad and that’s all I know.

The physicians think that I am senseless. All that they say is, “I know; you’re a mom.” I’m a mom, but I am not a stupid mom and I am not one of those women who questions just for the sake of questioning.

More when I “know.”

Wordless Wednesday - The life of Riley...I mean Nora!

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Another flip-out session...

Elliot’s liver enzymes are elevated.

Online trying to diagnose, as usual.

Perhaps in 4 years my skill set will be further enhanced.

Perhaps I won’t drive myself insane. Perhaps, as a real medical professional, I will know better than to get online!

Perhaps…

We are running Epstein Barr and additional tests tomorrow.

Um.

We bought the cat for Nora.

Really, we did.

But this little fur ball thinks that she belongs to Elliot. After Elliot has vacated any item, the cat follows as she must smell him on the particular item. She predominantly loves the Bumbo and Elliot uses it to sit and watch his videos. I found her here just now – and I just removed Elliot from his seat not moments ago.

Elliot too loves our new cat. He’ll sit and just watch her and laugh – for no reason at all…he just laughs.

Perhaps we should get another cat…for Nora.

Sweetness

Elliot adores Isaac. He loves to kiss his furry little head and hold his wee hands. My favorite activity is to watch them play together. So blessed I am!

'88, '88, '80, '80, '80...EIGHT!

I ask myself, in awe, "Has it REALLY been 20 years?" Well, yes indeed it has!

Wordless Wednesday - A window to the soul

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You're a good daddy...daddy!

Happy Father's Day!

Contemplation: career change.

I am a marketer…a PR person…one who "sells" things and services and ideas via communications…excreta. I work for myself. I have worked for myself for nearly seven years. Lately, I have been leaning toward marketing the services offered by medical professionals. I don’t know why I have “leaned” that way…trended toward the marketing of medicine – but I have.

I’m bored. I love my physician client with all of my heart, but I am weary. I wish that I were him. I know that is a goal which is way off in left field, but I am pondering the idea of a career change.

I think that I may just go back to school for nursing, with APRN (Advance Practice Registered Nurse) as the goal.

I know – expensive and my darn degree is in journalism. But, I don’t care. I have two years of “on the job training;” I am asked on a very consistent basis by very qualified medical professionals where I “practice.” Practice? What? I just take care of my kiddo/s and learned really quickly about some of the core elements of taking care of a premature baby with Down syndrome. (I had to. Who else was going to question the authority figures?) I have thyroid disease. Actually, I have two thyroid diseases. My boys have thyroid disease – not the typical kind – but the really weird kind where they inherited antibodies from me.

My last two pregnancies were as high risk as a pregnancy can get – I learned how to take care of myself, how to ask the right questions and demand the right tests.

My kid has been put through the ringer (not nearly as much “stuff,” though, as some of the other kiddos that I am proud to know, but Elliot has seen his fair share of specialists and the like). Again, I learned quickly.

I want to help. I want to help all of the children out there that receive poor medical care. I am motivated enough to learn what needs to be learned and I feel as if this is some kind of a calling. And really, I have the PR down pat. I know how to be “nice,” but this time, my congeniality will be sincere – not canned as my profession has sometimes dictated.

My husband says that I am positively INSANE. Perhaps – but I’m only just now pushing 38. Why the hell not? Financial aid, however, will be a must.

Scholarships anyone?

Thanks and right back at you!

Sweet Steph gave me an awfully sweet award. Thanks honey. Rather than pass it around (although I do adore so many of my friends’ blogs) I am giving it BACK to Stephanie. Woops; is that against the “rules?”

I get such a kick out of her posts and can tell you that this woman writes from the heart.

One particular post that got me laughing today is linked here. You’ll find both humor as well as many words of wisdom from Steph. She truly celebrates her beloved babe, Aiden. And, there is much to celebrate.

Steph, you are a doll and Aiden is blessed to be able to call you “momma.”

He spoke.

Dear Elliot has been trying with all of his might to speak. He manipulates his little mouth to mimic me, but no sounds. Then, low and behold, last night, he did it!

I asked him if he wanted to go up (into my arms) and he says, so proudly, “AAAppp!’

Over and over again he said it. He was so proud of himself! And me? Well, all I know is that God is good! I love my little man!

"Mommy, how do you catch…

CHICKEN POX?"

“What?” “You know, that rashy thing that itches that covers your body.”

Turns out that one of Nora’s kindergarten classmates was sent home (picked up by her mother) near the end of the school day yesterday. Nora announced to me that she hugged her goodbye yesterday, as she “was really sad” that the poor little girl would be missing the last day of school. And, if she hugged her, she REALLY hugged her. Nora loves everyone and hugs people long and hard on a very consistent basis.

Flabbergasted. That’s what I was, upon hearing the words.

So, after throwing Nora in the shower, following my panic while ripping her clothes off of her and boiling them in the “hot cycle,” I called the school.

Indeed, the girl has Chicken Pox, as does her three-year old sister, according to her mother whom I also called promptly.

The teacher indicated that no one knew. Um, I suppose that I do not know how that is possible.

Nora has been vaccinated once at a year old, booster at five; Elliot has had one shot and Isaac…well, he’s not old enough.

Germ-a-phobic freak that I am, I continued to scour the sheets. She may have been exposed yesterday, the day before, who the hell knows. She slept in the bed; she sat on the couch; heck, she touched all of the door knobs. Yes, I know how it is spread. And yes, I went overboard, but I cannot imagine taking care of a 22-month old with Down syndrome and a 9-month old (who screams all of the time anyway) with CHICKEN POX.

And really, I thought that the disease was wiped out years ago. Not totally eradicated, but who hears about it anymore?

Needless to say, I pray that my little missy stays “itchy, dreadful rash free.” And, I pray that the bumps stay the heck away from the boys if indeed she comes down with it.

What a way to start the summer, huh? I just have to laugh, for if I don’t, I will start my cleaning frenzy again, and those who know me know just how long that will take.