Just because it makes me laugh

You know what happens when you're without the internet for two days straight? Well, besides feeling like you're cut off from humanity, that is. Your time on the computer is spent playing Solitaire or Hearts, and sifting through some old pictures. Hence, the discovery of the picture below, which I forgot even existed.

This picture makes me laugh for a few reasons. First, I remember how strict I was back then about my caffeine being limited to one soda a day. As a former caffeine junkie, this was a tough adjustment for me and I savored that once-daily soda (funny that I've since given up caffeine entirely). Secondly, the website on my computer screen might be familiar to some of you ladies.  I mean, can I get any more predictable: sitting on the couch with my gigantic belly while reading Babycenter? And, of course, my soda shelf makes me laugh. That thing came in handy more than once.

Sometimes, I sure do miss that shelf.

Letter to Camden (21 month edition)

Dear Camden,

When I tell people how old you are now, they always respond with, "Oh, just about 2." And while I know they're right, I want to say, "No! He's not just about 2! We've still got 3 months to go; let's not rush it!" Because honestly? It's making me a little sad lately to think about how fast the past couple of years have gone by. I love every minute of being your mom, but sometimes I wish I could take certain moments and freeze them like snapshots so that they'll never go away. Like when you run to me so fast I'm convinced you'll fall over but you make it to me and give a big, sloppy, open mouthed kiss. Or when we're walking and I hear a little voice say "Mama?" and I look down and you're reaching up so that I'll hold your hand. I know one day you'll be a teenager who will just die of embarrassment if I touch your hand in a public place, so I'll take as many of those moments as I can right now.

So, yes, 21 months old. You're incredibly active, and even that's an understatement. People are always commenting on how fast you run. You're an outdoors boy through and through. But you also love reading books and working on puzzles. Your hair is so blonde that it's practically white and you're now boasting 7 teeth (including one molar!). You can identify every body part and you've become an animal expert too. Whenever you hear the word "pig", you snort. You can also pant like a dog, and if you see a cow, you smile and say "Mmmm"--your adorable attempt at a "moo".

We do know that you have a speech delay now, but we're not entirely sure why. Maybe it's simply a delay and you're going to be a late talker; maybe there's more to it than that. We're looking into it, and we're doing everything we can for you. We always will. I'm proud of the progress you've made in the past month, and I'm excited to see where we go from here. You can do this, little buddy. I know you can.

I love you so much,

Mommy

____

And now for the boring stuff that's probably only interesting to me (but I really want to make an effort to document this information now so that I can monitor progress)...

Camden currently SIGNS:

• more
• open
• eat
• dog
• go
• juice
• milk
• car
• outside
• friend
• upstairs
• bath
• downstairs
• vacuum
• Nan (grandma)
• on
• Pop (grandpa)
• all done
• diaper
• cookie
• shoes

Sounds, Words, and Approximations:

• mama
• buh= bug
• yeah
• ppp (lip popping) = up
• mmm= moo
• ba-buh = bubble
• bah-bah= bye bye
• dat
• dada (not in context)
• mom-mom
• dadee (not in context)
• ma= Maggie
• nananana
• dadadadada
• bababababa
• ssss/shhh

Take your speech therapy and shove it.

Yesterday afternoon, Camden's therapist arrived (15 minutes late, of course!) armed with a puzzle and lots of toy bugs.

I had previously mentioned to her how much Camden enjoys puzzles these days so I was impressed that she remembered that comment made in passing and thought to bring him a puzzle to work on. Only this puzzle? Was probably better suited for a pre-schooler. It was a tad more complicated than the Melissa & Doug puzzles that Camden has become a fan of (read: it was a traditional puzzle, rather than the kind where you match the piece to a picture or color beneath it). Camden became frustrated with her puzzle in about 2.6 seconds and promptly picked up a few pieces and walked from the room. I was curious what he was up to, as he was looking back at us over his shoulder as he walked away, grinning widely. And then I heard the trashcan lid open and close and I realized the fate of her puzzle pieces.

Fast forward 10 minutes. We had moved on to playing with bugs (after trashcan diving for puzzle pieces). To her credit, Camden loved the bugs. He loved "catching" them with a magnet and he loved putting them into a container that he could open and close. Still, he felt the need to show her who was boss. Armed with a couple of bugs in hand, Camden laughed as he ran down the hallway, throwing backward glances at us over his shoulder once again. When he made a sharp turn into the bathroom, I jumped up and ran after him. Alas, I was too late. Plop, plop plop. I made it to the bathroom just in time to see a green plastic grasshopper and a red spider floating in the toilet.

I could practically hear Camden gloating: Take your speech therapy and shove it, lady!

Hearing (Mis)adventures

You might remember that Camden's first hearing evaluation yielded inconclusive results. It appeared that Camden wasn't hearing high-pitched sounds, but the audiologist was unsure if this was due to true hearing loss or a bored toddler. Camden needed a more in-depth test, which requires a toddler to be absolutely quiet and still while ear plugs are inserted into the ears. This test is virtually impossible to perform on a (conscious) child under 2 years old, so we were left with two options: a) sedate him for the test or b) let him nap in the car, drive to the audiologist's office, and pray that he wouldn't wake up to see a strange man sitting next to him in the car, shoving plugs into his ears.

We chose Option B. Now, Camden rarely naps in the car (let me clarify: Camden often tries to nap in the car, but I do everything I can to keep that from happening because I much prefer him to nap in his bed). When he has, on occasion, napped in the car, he isn't able to fall into a deep sleep. So, I was skeptical that this was going to work at all, but it was worth a shot to avoid sedation.

And so, yesterday I fed Camden a big lunch and stuck him in my mom's car right at nap time. We headed downtown to the audiologist's office, and I kept glancing at the backseat, fully expecting to find a sleeping toddler. Instead, what I found each time was a wide-eyed, excited toddler, looking out the window and pointing to all of the city scenery. Figuring that the stop-and-go traffic in the city wasn't conducive to falling asleep, we hopped back on the highway and drove aimlessly. Finally, I looked back to see Camden's eyes shut with his head slumped down on his shoulder. Victory.

Oh, but it couldn't be that easy. We turned to head back to the audiologist's office and promptly realized that we were lost. It was a race against time, as the audiologist was specific in his instructions that he wanted to see Camden after he had been sleeping for around 10 minutes. So, we whipped out my mom's trusty GPS, which decided to send us through winding residential roads on our way back to the city. Of course.

I breathed a sigh of relief when we pulled into the audiologist's parking lot and watched hopefully as he made his way to our car. Maybe this will work after all, I remember thinking. That hope was dashed when the audiologist climbed into the backseat next to Camden, slammed the door shut, and proceeded to stage-whisper to my mom, introducing himself and making small talk.

What the....? I thought the whole point of this adventure was to perform the hearing test while Camden was asleep and yet it seemed like he was making little effort not to wake him. I watched in horror as he reached over and began to stroke Camden's head. Of course, my light sleeper started stirring and his eyelids began to flicker. Realizing his mistake, the audiologist quickly shoved the ear plug into Camden's exposed ear just as Camden's eyes shot open. Camden looked directly at my mom, then at me, his eyes wide and confused. Then he slowly turned to look at the strange man sitting next to him. And he stared, hard. He was shocked and I braced myself for the inevitable tears. And oh, did they ever come. Ten seconds later, he was wailing and shaking, looked terrified that he was strapped in next to this man he did not know. Since the test needs to be performed in total silence, the audiologist removed the plug from Camden's ear. I felt so defeated.

We headed for home with a disgruntled toddler who only got a 15 minute nap. We were all frustrated and exhausted. Then, my cell phone rang. It was the audiologist and he had good news.

Since Camden had been in shock when he first woke and was totally silent for a short while before he started crying, the audiologist had been able to get the test mostly completed on one ear. And the best part? He was able to get through the 3 highest pitches that Camden didn't appear to be hearing at his inital test. And guess what? Camden has no hearing loss! (At least not in that one ear, but it's doubtful that he has any hearing loss at all). Turns out, he was just bored after all.

So, we celebrated in style: Mom and I with frappuccinos and Camden with his first ever chocolate milkshake. We're very thankful for good hearing!

Messes, Speech, and Pictures.

Messes:

This evening, Camden pulled my makeup bag off the bathroom counter and then proceeded to dump nearly an entire container of liquid foundation onto the bathroom rug. As if that mess wasn't quite up to his standards, he then rubbed his hands in the spilled makeup, and walked around the bathroom leaving little handprints on the counters, shower door, and bathtub. (The truly sad part? I was also in the bathroom, less than a foot away from him, with my back turned. He is silent and sneaky when getting into trouble.)

After I threw him in the tub and scrubbed his little made-up hands, we went into the kitchen to make Matt's lunch for tomorrow. While I was throwing deli meat on bread slices, I heard some rustling in the pantry. And then, milliseconds later, I heard the unmistakable sound of potato chips (an entire bag!) being crushed on the hardwood floors. I rounded the corner to the pantry and looked down to find a little blonde boy pointing at his latest mess, wearing a very proud smile.

At times like this, I can only laugh. Well, I could cry. Or scream. Or rip my hair out. But what would be the point in that? Leaving waves of mess and destruction is a rite of passage in toddlerhood, and consequently, in toddler parenthood. (At least that's what I told myself while I made Matt sweep up the crushed chips.)

Speech:

Our second speech therapy session last week went better than the first, though that's not saying a whole heck of a lot. I'm a super timely person, and our therapist has managed to be 15 minutes late to both sessions so far. I keep telling myself that not everyone is borderline obsessive about being on time, and that maybe I need to look at her arrival time as a moving target: she'll be at our house between 9 and 9:30, not 9 on the dot.

Thankfully, she did come prepared this time. There was structure. Camden was (mostly) interested in her games. I felt more connected to her.

She did mention apraxia again, but I didn't let it phase me this time. After all, I'd already heard it. And replayed it again and again and again in my head. And I'd already been to the ends of the internet researching it. It's a possibility, not a diagnosis, I reminded myself. But, at the same time, I am bracing myself for the very real possibility that it does eventually become a diagnosis.

Camden's signing abilities continue to explode. I'd venture to say that signing (intermixed with babbling) is his primary means of communication now. Many months ago, we bought him a Baby Signing Time DVD, but he had very little interest in it. I've taught him every sign he knows by showing him the sign myself first, and then actually taking his own hands and manuevering them to make the sign. He seems to learn best by doing, not simply watching a video.

We've also heard some new sounds from him over the past few days-- not words, just sounds. His babbling has shown more inflection and has been intermixed ("dadenabada" instead of "dadadada"). Every time he makes a new sound, I feel hopeful that maybe a language breakthrough is just around the corner. I'll tell you what: his lack of speech is not directly correlated to a lack of effort. My little guy works so hard.
Pictures:

When Camden was 6 months old, we got a new patio and I stuck his tiny feet in the wet cement, leaving perfectly adorable baby footprints behind. Camden loves to stick his now ridiculously larget feet in those baby prints.

Hi there, Handsome.

There's nothing quite like the view from Daddy's shoulders.
 

Camden wears this float-suit to the pool. We call it his muscle suit. He loves the thing and would wear it every day if I'd let him. And I love that he looks like a little superhero in it.

Kissing Cousins

Yesterday morning, Camden and I were out in the cul-de-sac with my sister, my nephews, and some other friends. My sister and I looked over during the chaos to find Camden and his cousin, Will, sitting on a neighbor's front porch steps. They were just sitting there quietly, like an old married couple observing the wild children running around. My sister grabbed her always-present camera, and I asked Camden if he would give his cousin a kiss.

Ever the gentleman, Camden decided to go the conservative route with the traditional closed-mouth peck, but Will had other ideas. He threw caution to the wind and went in for the french kiss.

(You can bet we'll be bringing this one out again when they're teenagers.)

Good riddance, last week.

Yesterday afternoon, I napped with Camden and woke up to find a big, red circle on my forehead. I was confused for half a second, until I looked down at my still sleeping son to find a matching circle on his forehead.

The after-effect of sleeping forehead to forehead for an hour:

Last week was a tough week. Matt had some things going on at work that were less than pleasant. And I'll admit that I took Camden's speech therapist using the A-word (apraxia) harder than I initially thought I was going to. At the end of an already less than stellar week, I took Camden to his hearing evaluation that was recommended by EI. The results were inconclusive. He didn't respond to the high pitched sounds at all, but the audiologist wasn't sure if that's because he was just not interested in them or if he really wasn't hearing them. My gut instinct tells me the latter is probably the case because the poor kid looked like he was about to fall asleep in the dark room. Still, we have to follow up on it. Our options were either to sedate him for a more in depth hearing test (yeah, no thanks), or to drive him around in the car until he falls asleep and then have the audiologist meet us in his parking lot and perform the more in depth test while Camden is sleeping. (It's necessary for the child to be absolutely quiet and still while the testing device is in the ear, which basically means that it's nearly impossible to perform on a toddler who isn't sleeping or sedated.) So, we've got that test to look forward to next week.

On a more pleasant note, Camden's signing has really taken off over the last week. He's been more interested in learning new signs, and uses the ones he knows regularly now. His most favorite sign right now? Outside. He wakes up the morning, runs to the back door, and signs outside. I absolutely love baby sign language; it's such an awesome tool to help toddlers communicate and is particularly helpful for non-verbal kiddos like mine.

Speaking of non-verbal kids, I took Camden to the pediatrician this afternoon due to a request by the audiologist. He wanted Camden's ears checked to be sure there was no ear wax build up or any other visible issues that might affect his hearing. There were no issues, thankfully. While I was there, I filled the doctor (not our regular pediatrician) in on exactly why I was getting his hearing evaluated. She asked me how Camden communicates with me and I gave her several examples of his non-verbal communication, plus all of his sign language. She said that, while she was glad I was being proactive and working with EI, she felt that he just has a language delay and will catch up eventually. "It's just not his time right now," she told me, "He's probably working on other skills, and will focus on his language later."

Honestly, I was a tiny bit reassured by her assessment, but I'm still so glad that we've taken all of the steps that we have thus far.

Know what else I'm glad about? That last week is over. Because it sucked, big time. Here's to a much better week this week!