Chronicles of a Carolina Mama

Food Wars

2012-01-28T19:05:00.000-08:00

I've read countless blog posts and heard just as many stories from fellow toddler moms complaining about their picky eaters. I truly considered myself lucky to have a child who, with few exceptions, would eat whatever we were eating for dinner each night. Meal times were never a battle in our house.

And then, two weeks ago, a switch flipped. Camden decided that eating? Is really not high on his agenda anymore. He rejects his old tried and true favorites, and refuses to try anything new. Last night, I seriously made him 3 dinners before he'd put anything in his mouth. The first was a cheese quesadilla (okay, full disclosure: I didn't make it; it was from Moe's. But still-- a cheese quesadilla seems like a pretty kid friendly food, yes?). He put one bite in his mouth and promptly let it slide right off his tongue and back onto his plate. Then I heated up leftover pizza, mac & cheese, and some peas. All former favorites of Camden's. He pushed his plate away, saying "all done", without even trying a bite. Finally, he settled on my third attempt at a meal: a scrambled egg (which he devoured-- the kid was hungry. That certainly wasn't the issue).

Snacks are totally fine-- he's still very interested in granola bars, Goldfish, yogurt, and any kind of snacky foods. Meal times are starting to exhaust me, though. And yes- I do realize that many pediatricians would say that I need to offer him only what we're eating and if he refuses that? Too bad. Honestly, though, that's just not something I feel comfortable with. Maybe if I had a kid with some extra meat on his bones I would consider that an option, but Camden's a skinny minny and I wouldn't feel right about putting him to bed without dinner. Also, I feel like he's a little young to be that tough with him. My sister mentioned that my 4 and-a-half year old nephew has been refusing meals lately too, and she's put her foot down and told him that he's eating what the rest of the family is eating. And I totally think that's the right decision-- for a child that age. For a 2 year old though? I just don't think so.

I'm not really worried about this because I know that, like everything else in the world of a toddler, it's just a phase. (I received a timely email from Babycenter stating that it might seem like my 2 year old is existing on crackers and air right now. Yes, Babycenter, some days it does seem that way.) But, I am completely open to hearing about food your toddler loves (please share!) or stories of how you combatted your child's picky eating.

When you're sending me menu ideas (pretty please), please note some of the things that Camden is currently refusing:

Pizza.
Grilled cheese.
Spaghetti.
Lasagna.
Mac & cheese.
Broccoli.
Peas.
Quesadillas.
Avocado.

(For the record, Chick-Fil-A nuggets were a huge hit tonight. Too bad we can't make those a daily part of our diet.)

Dear Camden (26 months)

2012-01-23T05:12:00.000-08:00

Camden,

I'm sitting with a diaper on my head as I write this post. In fact, the diaper hat is what inspired this letter because it's one of those things I don't want to forget-- ever. It's certainly not one of my better fashion statements, but it's something that's important to you at this moment: every night now, you pick out character diapers for Daddy and me to wear as hats on our heads. Don't you worry-- you get one, too. But you always save Cookie Monster for yourself, which means that I am not allowed to let you actually wear Cookie Monster diapers for their intended purposes. They must be saved for hats. It doesn't matter what we're doing-- eating dinner, brushing our teeth, playing cars-- hats must be securely attached to our heads or we'll hear about it. I can only imagine what someone peering through our windows might think of us.

Who said the twos were terrible? I wish there was some way to bottle up every detail I love about you at this age and keep it forever. You make me laugh every night when I'm putting you to bed and you repeat "Dada, Mommy, me" in your monster voice over and over again. Another quirky but adorable part of your bedtime ritual? When I'm lying next to you, you gently touch my eyes, and then rub your face. Then you touch my cheeks, and rub your face. You do this several times while smiling. I always ask, "Camden, what are you rubbing on your face?" and you respond with a sweet, "Mommy."

Somewhere over the past couple of months, you became absolutely infatuated with trains (best known as choo-choos in this house). Your Pop came across a goldmine accidentally one day: a small Mom & Pop train store located in a rundown strip mall. It has become your absolute favorite place. We meet Nan & Pop for breakfast or lunch on a weekly basis, and then take the required trip to look at the choo-choos. You've got quite a few in your own collection now, and you'll notice in a heartbeat if one of them is missing (how you can account for every single one of them, I'll never know). They are naptime and bedtime companions, and the first words out of your mouth in the morning are often, "Purple choo-choo?" or some variation of that question while you throw back covers in search of your constant companions.

You are starting to put some 3 word sentences together now and I just marvel at how far your speech has come when I hear you say, "Dirty green choo-choo" or "Night night blue car" while playing with your toys. For some reason, you've begun calling Maggie "Baby", which your Daddy and I find hilarious. You'll tell her "No, Baby!" when she's trying to get your food or you'll lovingly say, "Bye, Baby!" when we head out to go to the store. Where you came up with her new name is anyone's guess but I'm hoping it sticks around.

Your non choo-choo favorites at 26 months old? In no particular order, they include: Play-doh. Yo Gabba Gabba. Granola bars. Your cousin, Will (more affectionately known as Wawa). Pizza. Going to Nan & Pop's house. Dancing with Daddy. Playing outside (come on, Spring!). Riding your tricycle. "Emms!" (M&Ms). Playing cars. Helping Mommy cook.

You are such a sweet, funny, loving, and kind child. People are always commenting on your lack of tantrums and what a good listener you are. This, I always say, is 100% a credit to your laid back temperament and not any kind of Super Mom stuff on my part. Your Daddy and I often say that you are the perfect fit for our family, and we're so glad that you're ours.

I love you, little buddy.

Love,
Mommy

Just a typical night at our house.

Stunt man.

He's got the moves like...Daddy.

Much Ado About School.

2012-01-17T19:19:00.000-08:00

I've got school on the brain lately, folks. And not just my own school (which started again yesterday-- boo), but Camden's school as well.

It feels odd to think of him as old enough to have school at the forefront of my mind right now, but we're getting to that point. For a long time, my focus was on Camden's speech (or lack thereof) and my primary goal was to get him talking. Once the words started to come and I could begin working with him on colors and numbers and ABCs, school suddenly became a much bigger focus.

Before becoming a parent, I always just assumed I would send my future kids to public school. Because, duh-- it's free. And it worked for me; I was a public school kid without any problems. I neglected to consider the fact that I was attending public school in one of the best counties in the nation (Fairfax County in Virginia) when I was making these decisions for my future children.

Then I met Camden and I knew from day one that I only wanted the best for this sweet child of mine. And that includes the best education possible. Unfortunately, the public school system in the county we currently live in is less than impressive, if I'm being kind. In reality, it's pretty downright bad.

I've met a lot of parents lately who are considering homeschooling their children. The thought has crossed my mind more than once since becoming a mom (prior to having children, I would've rolled my eyes at the thought of homeschooling). I think homeschooling has countless benefits. I think my Type A, organized self (who will eventually have my teaching certification) would make a decent homeschool teacher. But. It's not what I want for Camden, at least initially*. I want him to get out there and experience interacting with other students on a daily basis. I want him to hear diverse opinions and participate in classroom discussions. I want him to have these life experiences. Also? I will need to go back to work full time eventually.

So, I'm not crazy about our public school system (at all). I don't want to homeschool Camden (at least not intially). Where does that leave us?

Moving out of the county? Well, that sounds nice in theory, but did anyone hear about the recession and the housing market crash a few years back? Yes? Well, selling our house isn't something we want to do for many, many years.

Private schools? Sure, we can fork over the insanely high tuition rates, if we don't want Camden to go to college. (Bottom line? It's not happening.)

So, charter schools seem very attractive to me right now. There are a couple of local ones that I've had my eye on for a while. Unfortunately, we'll be at the mercy of the lottery system, along with thousands of other parents, and the uncertainty of that makes me more than a little nervous. But, it seems like our best bet.

What are other toddler parents thinking about school right now?

*If it comes down to sending Camden to the middle & high schools he's slated to attend right now or homeschooling him, you can bet he'll be homeschooled.

One Income Money Management

2012-01-10T08:12:00.000-08:00

The blogosphere seems to be abuzz today with the whole SAHM vs. Working Mom debate yet again. Apparently Anderson Cooper did a piece about the tired old battle on his show, and there was recently an article published that stated that a recent study found that working moms are healthier than SAHMs. I'd seen links to the article on a couple of friends' Facebook pages, and had simply scrolled right by it, because really? It's such an old, tiresome battle. And it will never end. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm beyond over it.

You work outside of the home? Super!
You stay at home with your children? Wonderful!

I'm not judging, either way.

Instead, all of this led me to think of the many ways our lives have changed since Matt and I made the decision that I would stay home with Camden.

There are the obvious ways: I no longer wake up to a beeping alarm, hop in the shower, and head out the door in a business suit 45 minutes later. (Instead, I wake up to a "Mommy?", throw on a sweatshirt, and get breakfast started.)

Rather than sitting at a desk discussing job opportunities and benefits with candidates, I sit at the kitchen table and discuss Yo Gabba Gabba and the various colors of Play-doh with a small blonde boy.

And for me personally? I wouldn't have it any other way. I am happiest when I'm with my son.

There are less obvious ways our lives have changed, too. Like our finances, for example. Cutting an entire salary out of our budget was nerve-wracking, to say the least. And not only did we cut a salary, but we added a kid, and all of the expenses that come along with that kid. So, we needed to find ways to stretch our money, to get the most for our dollar. (And yes- not having to pay for daycare is a big help.)

Matt is the money manager in our family. He's much more frugal than I am, and he's just better at money management in general (hence, the career in banking). We've implemented several money saving strategies since becoming a one income household:

We use one credit card for everything: groceries, gas, bills, novelty purchases. We never pay cash and we rarely write checks. And then? We pay off the credit card bill at the end of each month. So, our balance is always $0 but we still get our rewards points for using our card.
We use coupons. We are far from extreme couponers (though I really think Matt missed his calling there...), but we never go to the grocery store without being armed with a stack of coupons (the cashiers love us!). Also? We try to exclusively buy food items that are on sale.
We don't eat out a lot. And when we do eat out, you can bet we have a coupon. This has forced me to learn how to cook-- a work in progress, for sure (I heart my crockpot).
Matt takes a lunch from home to work every day. Cutting out his daily lunch expenses saves us $40-50 a week.
We buy in bulk. Not everything, of course. But it makes sense to buy paper towels, napkins, and toilet paper in bulk. We have a membership to BJs and it is well worth the membership fee.
We shop at Kid to Kid! You probably have a similar children's consignment shop in you area. Of course, Camden has some new clothes too, but you really can't beat $4 pajamas.
We eliminate debt. We just bought a new car, after having no car payments for several years (due to 2 paid off cars). We will be paying this car off as quickly as we can so we can be as debt free as possible.
We SAVE, SAVE, SAVE. We maintain a certain balance in our savings account at all times, and any extra money we come across goes into savings. Matt rolls coins and puts that money into our savings account (he's also been known to pick up pennies in parking lots, but I didn't tell you that). We have a college savings account for Camden, too.

And there you have it: our secrets for staying afloat while living on one income. We're no Dave Ramsey or Clark Howard, but this works for us.

25 month speech update

2012-01-04T09:28:00.000-08:00

I figured it's about time for a Camden Speech Update.

He is doing awesome. Really, really great, and we are so impressed by his progress.

Today, I asked Amanda, his SLP, what she thought of his speech as far as age appropriateness and apraxia vs. not is concerned. Not surprisingly, she prefaced her thoughts by saying that apraxia can't be completely ruled out at such a young age, but her gut instinct tells her that Camden simply has (had?) a speech delay and needed a little extra push to get talking. At 2 years old, she said he should be making 2 word sentences (he is) and that he should have about 100+ words now* (not quite there yet, but close). She noted that she was very pleased with how quickly he's been flying through all of the Kaufman and PROMPT cards she's been using with him and that she's glad that he picks up new words and sounds so quickly. She did say that he's making a couple of speech errors that aren't typical* and she'll be keeping an eye on those, but overall, he's breezing through therapy.

At home, Camden is regularly using two word sentences now. It's common for him to walk up to me and request "Babba on" (when he wants to watch Yo Gabba Gabba-- such a strange little show but that's another story). This morning, he told me he had "two choo choos" while holding a pair of trains. And yesterday, he was excited to point to his mouth and say "Me teeh!" while showing off his pearly whites. These are just a few examples of the adorable sentences he's often putting together these days.

With an expanded vocabulary (over 75 words now!) come some animated dreams. I used to wonder what Camden dreamed about at night; now I'm getting a little window into his mind. Over the past few nights, he's animatedly yelled out from a deep sleep, shouting "doh!" (as in play-doh, his new obsession) and "uh oh! ISH!" (not sure what was happening to the fish in his dream, but something was amiss). I love getting insight into that sweet little blonde head of his.

It's tempting to slack off on practice when I hear him walking around chatting all day long, but I keep reminding myself that it's the therapy combined with practice that got us to where we are right now. So, we continue to plug along.

*It's funny to me how pediatricians and SLPs differ in their opinions about speech development. At Camden's 2 year check-up, the pediatrician told me that they look for a minimum of 20 words at 2 years old (though 50 is typical). Amanda looks for 100-200 words at 2 years old.

*When a toddler can't make a difficult sound (for example, the "c" sound), they'll substitute it with an easier sound (like a "t"). That's a typical error. A couple of Camden's substitutions aren't typical, and that's what Amanda was referring to. Honestly, I'm not concerned about it at all. Amanda is paid to be a total perfectionist and to pick apart speech (which is why she's amazing at her job), but sometimes I think two year olds are just going to make their own errors.

So long, 2011.

2011-12-31T15:53:00.000-08:00

How to sum up an entire year in a single post? I'll give it my best effort: playdates at the mall, storytime at the library, countless days spent with cousins, boat rides at Nan & Pop's lake house, summer afternoons in the cul-de-sac, 7 year wedding anniversary, road trips to VA, bridesmaid fun, visits from old friends, attending birthday parties, beginning speech therapy, getting rid of our first SLP, many afternoons at the neighborhood pool, visits from Nonnie & Grandpa, Camden becoming a sign language guru, finding the right SLP, watching Camden's verbal abilities explode, the loss of Matt's grandmother, a road trip to New Jersey, the loss of my grandfather, gathering with family in Richmond to celebrate the life of a man we all loved, Camden's second birthday party, hearing my little boy put short sentences together, Camden's first experience with the stomach flu, celebrating Christmas with family, watching Camden discover his gifts from Santa, and now saying goodbye to 2011 holed up in our house with my little family.

I hope the new year brings you all much happiness and love. Cheers to 2012!

Our 2011 in pictures...

January in Daddy's arms.

February at the airport playground.

Eating (wearing?) pudding in March.

Wild man in April.

Greeting Daddy after work in May.

Being silly in June.

4th of July on Nan & Pop's boat.

Kissing Cousins in August.

Camden doubles as Mr. Potato Head in September.

Hiding out in October.

Celebrating the big 2 in November.

Being handsome in December.

Christmas Craziness

2011-12-26T19:05:00.000-08:00

It has been a whirlwind week! All I can say is thank goodness I'm not a procrastinator and all of my Christmas shopping was done early.

Early last week, our cat, Snickers, fell from the top of our stairs and shattered her leg. I've mentioned before how steep our staircase is-- well, Snickers has always climbed up the outside of the stairs, on the other side of the railing. She lost her balance that afternoon, fell down into our foyer and was obviously in severe pain. After taking her to the vet, we were told that our options were very expensive surgery that still wouldn't result in a fully functional leg or amputation. It was very upsetting news.We're currently getting a second opinion and haven't made any decisions yet.

Then, after a couple of sleepless nights due to coughing, I went to the doctor and found out I had bronchitis. The very next night, Camden started throwing up. It was the first time he'd ever thrown up and it was quite traumatic for him. He threw up 6 times in a 2 hour period-- it was awful. Finally, he fell into a restless sleep, and my coughing fit began. Needless to say, very little sleep was had by anyone that night.

Camden seemed to make an amazing recovery the next morning-- Christmas Eve. He woke up in good spirits and was able to keep two pieces of toast down without any problem. So, we followed through with our plan to head to my parents' house for Christmas Eve dinner and to spend the night. Christmas Eve was a blast. Camden was in high gear all day. We ate a nice dinner and Camden was thrilled to make Christmas cookies for Santa (read: he was thrilled to add excessive amounts of sprinkles to the cookies for Santa). After he was in bed, we put out all of his presents from Santa (unwrapped-- family tradition) and called it a night.

We were up bright and early the next morning and Camden was so excited about his presents from Santa. His immediate favorite: his train table, or as he calls it, his "choo choos". Coming in at a close second were his basketball hoop and his kitchen. He was so overwhelmed by all of the new toys that he didn't even really notice some of the smaller gifts (like puzzles) until we got home.

Every Christmas morning, my dad makes omelets for everyone. He also scrambled up some eggs with cheese for Camden. I figured since he hadn't thrown up in over 24 hours, we were in the clear. I was wrong. Camden shoveled the eggs in his mouth quickly and approximately 3 minutes later, they all came back up.

His mood rapidly deteriorated from there. Poor guy felt miserable again. He tried so hard to be in good spirits though, especially when his cousin/BFF arrived. We even caught them playing in the toilet at one point-- never too sick to stir up trouble!

We packed up our gifts and headed home in the afternoon only to do it all over again with the in-laws that evening. Camden powered through the evening and fell into bed exhausted that night. Thankfully, he's much better rested today and the vomit seems to be gone for good (knock on wood a thousand times). It was an eventful Christmas, to be sure, but somehow managed to be a really good one in spite of it all. There's nothing quite like experiencing Christmas as a parent.

"Nan!" was shouted repeatedly on Christmas Eve.

Baking cookies-- please note the sprinkles in hand.

Christmas Eve PJs-- Camden enjoyed the characters on Daddy and Uncle Chris's shirts.

Pop played us some Christmas music.

Santa was very good to Camden this year.

It took him about 1.3 seconds to locate his "choo choos".

Never too sick to dunk...

...or cook.

Cooking with Will. Check out their shoes.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

Merry Christmas to all.

2011-12-23T23:43:00.000-08:00

Bronchitis for me, the throw ups for Camden, and a shattered leg that will either require surgery or amputation for our cat equals very little time for blogging before the holidays. And yet, even with everything going on during our less than stellar week, I am still feeling so blessed and grateful this Christmas season. I can't even begin to explain how excited I am to see Camden's face on Christmas morning when he sees his "choo choos". Even in the chaos, I haven't lost sight of how very much we have to be thankful for.

I hope everyone has a wonderful Christmas. Hopefully I'll be back with more stories and less coughing & vomit in the days to come. Fingers crossed.

Conversations with Camden

2011-12-16T06:33:00.000-08:00

He's not talking in long sentences by any means, but you guys-- he has found his voice and he loves it. Like a lot. So much so that last night at bedtime it took him over an hour to fall asleep because of his running monologue about fish, water, ducks-- he's very into all things aquatic right now. And it was mildly frustrating that he was still up at nearly 10 o'clock since we have a doctor's appointment to go to today. But I have to admit: I smiled, a lot, while listening to his sweet voice. We've waited such a long time to hear it, and I am enjoying every moment of it-- even when he's staying up past bedtime to talk to himself or arguing with me about what should be playing on the TV.

My Favorite Recent "Conversations" with Camdens:

"Dada, ball", Camden says to me while my husband watches a football game on TV.
"Yes, Daddy likes to watch ball. What do you like to watch?" I ask him.
He thinks for a minute and says, "Oat" with a smile. Oat= Oso, as in the Disney Channel Special Agent.

We're at the dinner table & Camden has reached that point where he's done eating and is mainly playing with his food. I unbuckle him to take him out of his seat but Camden has other plans. He quickly stands up in his seat, pulls his jeans down around his ankles and yells, "UH OH!" Nothing like a little dinner time nudity.

I was changing the (brown flannel) sheets on our bed yesterday afternoon with my little helper faithfully at my side. When the bed was stripped, there was nothing but a small piece of brown lint laying on Matt's side of the bed. Camden climbed up onto the bed and examined it closely before declaring, "Dada, POO-POO!"

We have this conversation every day. Repeatedly:
"Duhs?"- Camden
"We fed the ducks earlier, honey." - Me
"Duh? Wawa?"- Camden
"Yes, the ducks live in the water." - Me
"Ish, wawa?"- Camden
"Yes, the fish live in the water too."- Me
"Bu!"- Camden
"Yes, the water is blue."- Me
"Duhs? ME ME!"- Camden

And this convo goes on...and on....and ON.

Something else I find ridiculously adorable? He has started to "count", completely unprompted by me. The other day, I found him gathering all of his Matchbox cars and pointing to each one while saying, "Two...two...two..."

I know this probably doesn't sound like much to those of you with toddlers who have been verbal for many months, but I am so incredibly proud of my son and his progress. He continues to amaze me with new words on a near daily basis now and I am so thankful to be able to hear his little voice.

My Best Friend's Wedding

2011-12-11T19:10:00.000-08:00

As luck would have it, when my family moved from Richmond, Virginia to Northern Virginia when I was 8 years old, we moved in to a house right across the street from another little 8 year old girl. Over the years, Kristin and I became inseparable. We did gymnastics together, danced (terribly) together, joined swim team together, played soccer together, and then in high school, we both joined the lacrosse team. There were countless summer nights spent playing flashlight tag, long days at the pool, many sleepover parties, and days that we'd make the short trek across the street to each other's homes simply because we had nothing better to do. If it happened in the first 18 years of our lives, you can bet that Kristin and I experienced it together. We had many nicknames over the years, including Double Trouble (courtesy of Kristin's dad), the Package Deal, and Frick and Frack (courtesy of our lacrosse coach). I think everyone was in mild shock when we chose to part ways for college.

Life went on, and time and distance separated us over the next decade. When I got the letter in the mail from Kristin requesting that I be one of her bridesmaids, she said something like this: the measure of a true friend is when you can pick back up right where you left off, no matter how much time has gone by. I agree with that wholeheartedly. I am so lucky to have many friends from childhood that this applies to, and Kristin is no exception. I was honored to be part of her wedding a few weeks back.

My date for the evening. And most evenings, for that matter.

My parents came too, since they were second parents to Kristin growing up.

The bridesmaids with the beautiful bride. I absolutely adore this group of girls.

Every bride needs a bedazzled pimp cup. Right?

Outside of Kristin's childhood home, waiting on the bus to pick us up and take us to the church.

I must admit that I was a tad disappointed that no little ones were invited to the wedding since I was daydreaming about how Camden would look in a suit the moment I heard Kristin was engaged. But, Camden got to spend the weekend with my parents, which worked out well for everyone. Apparently he was the perfect gentlemen and no trouble at all (or they were sugar coating things for me, but I choose to believe the former). When my parents left the hotel for a few hours to attend the wedding, my awesome little brother (who had tagged along on the road trip solely to babysit while my parents were at the ceremony) took over Camden duty. Camden adores my brother, so I wasn't worried about how it would go. However, in all of his 23 years, my brother had never changed a diaper prior to that night. When I asked him how he felt about that, he said something along the lines of, "Kerri, I'm 23 years old- I'll figure it out." I probably don't even need to tell you that Camden had an epic poop blowout that night, because that's just how those things go.

Despite that little mishap, it was a fabulous weekend full of family and good friends. And I couldn't be happier for the other half of Double Trouble.

You at Two.

2011-12-08T12:03:00.000-08:00

Dear Camden,

Just a quick glimpse into who you are at two years old:

You love to "mouskersize" with Mickey during commerical breaks. I look over to see you touching your toes, reaching your arms up high, waving bye bye, and touching your nose-- all at Mickey's request. He is your absolute favorite.

You undress yourself. This can be helpful at time, and not so helpful at other times. Like when you have a poopy diaper and you take off your pants and then your diaper? Not so helpful.
You love to wear shoes and you don't discriminate. You'll have Daddy's work shoes on one minute and Mommy's high heels on the next.
You love to play ball. You frequently find balls to throw with Daddy while yelling, "Ball!"
You are obsessed with Matchbox cars. You take your cars to bed with you and they're the first thing you look for when you wake up in the morning. You call them "ah"s. You have an "ah" that you call Dada, Mom, and Nan because they look like our cars.
You love to eat pizza, hot dogs, and cookies. Really healthy, right? No worries-- Mommy makes sure you still get your daily doses of fruits & veggies.
You copy everything! While I dry my hair in the morning, you get out an old hair dryer and "dry" your hair too. You pretend to put in your contacts with Daddy, and you take (capped) deodorant and rub it on your belly (we'll have to make sure we teach you better aim when you're older). Whenever I vacuum, you say, "Me, me!" and run and get your mini vacuum and follow two steps behind me the entire time.

You use many words now, but your favorites are "me", "no", and the newest addition, "Pee-pee, Poo-poo!" (And no- we are not potty training you right now. That's not even on my radar at the moment.)

I tell you this nearly every day, but your Daddy and I are completely crazy about you. You are sweet, kind, and funny, and we're so glad you're ours.

Love,
Mommy

(Photography credit goes to my talented sister, Lauren.)

The Mes and the Nos.

2011-12-05T11:35:00.000-08:00

"Just wait until you get into the 'mes' and the 'nos' phase," I remember Camden's pediatrician saying at his 18 month appointment. Of course, he was referring to the todder-asserting-independence-phase when everything is "Me!" or "Mine!" and the answer to every request or question is "No!" At Camden's 18 month check-up, he was mostly non-verbal, and so this phase seemed very far away back then. Rather than dreading it the way many parents of toddlers might, I hoped and prayed for it, knowing that its arrival would mean my child was talking.

And you know what? It's here.

So much has happened over the past month in the speech department. At around 23 months, Camden started adding some new words and sounds, and as he got closer to 2 years old, he added a few more. I hesitate to say he's had the textbook language explosion, because I don't think we're there quite yet. Describing it as a small blast would be more appropriate. It's exciting and encouraging, all the same. And I credit his progress to his SLP who is, without a doubt, the right fit for him and is excellent at what she does. I'll hand a tiny bit of credit to Matt and myself because we work hard with him at home too, in the form of flash cards, daily fill-in-the-blank dialogue, and play. But I'll give most of the credit where it's due-- to my generous parents who have funded Camden's speech therapy and to the power of prayer.

Camden surprises me every day with his emerging verbal abilities. His favorite words right now include: Mom, Dada, Nan, Pop (pah), car (ah), duck (duh), dog (dah), cat (at), goat (oat), me, no, up, out, in, ball, baby, bubble, bye, blue (bu), green (een), yeah, go, pee pee, and more. Most of these he uses on a daily basis without any prompting from me. He also has countless words that he can say or approximate from his therapy flash cards or during therapy itself. You know what else? I've even heard him combine 2 words a few times-- today it was "moh duh" (more ducks). This is coming from a child who was pretty much non-verbal 4 months ago.

My favorite words? Without a doubt, the mes and the nos. I had to hide my smile during speech therapy today when his SLP asked him if he wanted to play with a certain toy and he responded with a very firm, "No!" And we both laughed when she was pushing a car around and Camden excitedly yelled, "Me!" before taking the car from her. You can bet I won't be taking this assertion of indepenence phase for granted.

And, finally, I have to share this story from therapy today. I've always believed that people are brought into our lives for a reason, and I've felt this way about Camden's SLP from day one. I just knew she was the person we were supposed to find to help Camden, though I couldn't explain it beyond an intuitive feeling. At the end of today's session, his SLP asked if she could talk to me. Immediately I got a nervous feeling in my stomach-- is she quitting? Is she ready to diagnose him with apraxia? Instead, she surprised me by saying that she and her husband had been trying to get pregnant for a year and a half, and she is getting ready to start an IVF cycle. She was telling me in case she has to cancel some upcoming sessions. Of course, I filled her in on what we went through to conceive Camden and I could see the relief on her face right away. Then I asked her where she was going for her treatments-- same practice we went to. And her doctor in the practice? Yep-- Dr. P, my beloved RE. And since she's been such a tremendous help to us with Camden's speech, I'm hoping I can somehow return the favor as she goes through the grueling infertility process.

Funny how life works, isn't it?

Party Time

2011-11-28T12:00:00.000-08:00

I knew for a while that I wanted to do a farm theme for Camden's second birthday party but I wasn't sure how it was all going to come together. I'm not much of a cook, so I didn't even attempt to make the cake myself. Instead, we ordered a chocolate cake with chocolate mousse from BJ's (like Costco). It was delicious. I had them leave the cake blank except for the writing and I decorated the rest myself with tiny farm animals. See that pig's head on upper right corner? It was the lid to the tube the farm animals came in and Camden demanded that it be put on his cake. Oh well- it was his birthday, right?

Since we had mostly family at Camden's party this year, I felt like doing party favor bags was a bit too much. I'll probably start that next year. But, I still wanted to give the kids who came a small favor. So, I decided to have them adopt a farm animal. After picking up some small farm animals (at the dollar store! For $6 total!), I mentioned the idea to my artistic mom. She created the cute little barn below.

Just because I like it-- the fall/farm centerpiece on the adult's table.

Before everyone arrived, we took Camden outside to see his big birthday gift from Nan & Pop and Nonnie & Grandpa (both sets of grandparents)-- a playground for our back yard. It was a big hit that day, and has been every day since then.

When I decided to do a farm theme, I had this country menu in mind for dinner. Think fried chicken, corn on the cob, biscuits, etc. And then Matt suggested pizza because a) it's Camden's favorite b) it's cheaper and c) it's easier and I decided to roll with it.

Camden literally jumped with excitement when his BFF, Will, arrived at his party. These two are double trouble.

Time to open gifts. Camden had a lot of help this year. Thankfully, he didn't mind at all.

I don't know why this game is endlessly fascinating with children of all ages in my house, but Spin the Chair was played several times.

Time for cake! Camden worked hard to blow out his candles and succeeded in blowing-- but in the wrong direction (he blew upwards). Camden watched shyly as we sang Happy Birthday to him and then clapped with us and demanded that we serenade him again.

Ever since his party, Camden will come up randomly to us and hold up one finger on each hand to indicate that he's 2. When we acknowledge, "Yes, you're 2!", he starts clapping his hands and then pretends to blow out his candles again. I'm thinking this kid really enjoyed his party and wishes they happened more than once a year.

Happy Second Birthday

2011-11-21T04:55:00.000-08:00

Dear Camden,

Two years ago, I sat on the couch with Maggie while your Daddy timed my contractions. Two years ago, we packed up the car and headed to the hospital at 3am, hearts racing with nervousness and excitement. Two years ago, your Daddy updated his Facebook status to read “Breathless with anticipation” as I was officially admitted into the hospital. Two years ago, family came pouring into my hospital room, attempting to distract me with conversation and letting me use their hands as stress balls during contractions. Two years ago, just as I was beginning to feel like the pain was too much, the nurse said, “Are you ready to push?!” and, just like that, my pain was forgotten. Two years ago, your Daddy held one of my legs and your Nan held the other while I pushed with all my might. Two years ago, you decided you were going to do things your own way and you came sliding right out when I wasn’t even pushing. Two years ago, you turned immediately to look at your Daddy as the doctor caught you in his arms. Two years ago, the doctor placed you in my arms and I saw your sweet face for the first time. Two years ago, I fell completely and irrevocably in love with you. Two years ago, you made me a mom.

Two years.

Over the past two years, we’ve hurt watching you hurt—at birthmark removal appointments, when receiving vaccinations, and when you’ve fallen and skinned your knee in typical toddler fashion. Fortunately, we’ve felt terror only on the rare occasion—the night you fell down the stairs shortly after your first birthday and those few seconds (that felt like hours) when you stepped out of my sight at the store. We’ve been frustrated over sleepless nights, failed sleep training, and the occasional tantrum.

But mostly? There’s been joy.

Over the past two years, we’ve laughed as you smiled for the first time. We’ve cheered when you first rolled over, when you first pushed up and began crawling, and when you started to pull up to stand. We practically threw a party the night you started walking clumsily back and forth between your Dad and me. We’ve celebrated your first word, the first time you threw a ball, the first time you waved goodbye, and the first time you jumped with both feet off the ground. We’ve watched proudly as you’ve blossomed in speech therapy, and as you’ve become increasingly more independent, making it clear that Mommy and Daddy don’t always have to be one step behind you (even though we usually are). We’ve laughed hysterically as you’ve paraded around in Mommy’s high- heel shoes, with arms covered in a sleeve of Mickey Mouse tattoos.

A few years ago, before you were even conceived, I wrote a letter to you. I told you that your Daddy and I wouldn’t always be perfect parents, but that we would always do our best for you. I told you that you would make us better people and that we would learn by loving you. I’ve held true to those promises. I have no illusions (or delusions) of perfection in parenting, but every choice I’ve made in the past two years, I’ve made out of love for you. It feels that most of what I was doing with my life prior to being your mom was inconsequential. I was always waiting for you, before I even realized it.

Happy second birthday, Camden Miller. You are so loved.

Love,

Mommy

PS- See this last picture? So.very.true.

I broke my holiday rule.

2011-11-13T18:42:00.000-08:00

It's that time of the year when I start making excuses about why I'm an absent blogger: my school semester is winding down which equals a huge end-of-semester project, Camden's second birthday party is coming up in less than a week (!!), Thanksgiving is right around the corner, and then Christmas will follow closely on its heels. I guess they're not technically excuses when they're all real and legitimate reasons for being a tad overwhelmed, true?

While I typically believe in the don't-think-about-Christmas-until-after-Thanksgiving rule, I have broken it this year in two ways: we've almost finished Christmas shopping for Camden (must pause here for a shout out to Slickdeals, my savvy shopper husband, and Melissa & Doug toys) and I've been telling Camden all about Christmas and Santa every night at bedtime. I can't help it, you guys-- celebrating Christmas with a two-year-old is so much fun. Don't get me wrong-- it was fun last year, and the year before (seems weird that this will be Camden's 3rd Christmas even though he's only two), but this year is just extra special because Camden understands so much more and gets so excited just hearing about Santa Claus. When he's laying in bed at night, I tell him how we're going to put up a Christmas tree and decorate it while we dance to Christmas music (as far as I'm concerned, the cheesier the better when it comes to holidays), and how Santa is going to come to his house while he's sleeping and leave toys for him but only if we leave out cookies and milk for Santa's snack. And Camden's eyes get wider by the minute when I tell this story and he always smiles and asks for more when I'm done. I absolutely love experiencing the holidays through my son's eyes.

I will stand my ground about one holiday rule though: no decorations until after Thanksgiving. I have promised myself not to budge on that one, lest we end up being the neighbors with reindeer in our front yard on Veterans Day in the years to come.

Mommy Speech Tips, Part 2

2011-11-05T14:04:00.000-07:00

And here's the eagerly anticipated (ha) follow up to my Mommy Speech Tips, Part 1.

Not a word? Make it a word.

In the early days of speech therapy with our old therapist when Camden would say something like "ba" and our SLP would say, "Yes, Camden, ball (or balloon or bottle or bath)", I would roll my eyes, knowing that Camden hadn't meant to say any of those words. My mom used to do that with him, too. Camden might say "Ma!" and if Mickey Mouse happened to be on TV, my mom would say, "See, he just said Mickey Mouse!" In both scenarios, I knew that my son's words weren't intended to represent a ball or Mickey Mouse; they were just approximations he used to label many different things, because they were easy for him to say. What I didn't know is that my mom and the old SLP had the right idea. Camden's new speech therapist uses the same technique and asked me to do the same for him at home. If he says something that resembles a word in therapy, she makes it a word. For example, Camden used to say "oh" quite often, and it didn't mean anything in particular other than he liked the way it sounded. His new therapist made it the word "go". When they played cars in therapy, she'd say, "Ready, set...Camden, say 'oh'!" And now, two weeks later, Camden uses "oh" for "go" completely appropriately. After observing how well this worked, I'm always listening out for new sounds that I can turn into words for him.

Designate a speech area.

This is still a work in progress for us, but I think it's a fantastic idea. We work on Camden's speech every day at home, and most of the time it's in the context of play that I mentioned in my last post. However, now that we're given "homework" after each speech session, I do have some speech tasks to complete with Camden that require a little more concentration. Camden's SLP suggested that I designate an area of my home for speech, so that Camden knows that when we go to that area, it's speech time. It can be as simple as sitting at the kitchen table. We have a kid-sized desk and chairs that I am considering designating our "speech area".

Use every day tasks as learning opportunities.

Almost any daily task can become a lesson in speech without your child even realizing it. For example, Camden loves to turn the light switches on and off. That was something I used to let him do silently, without giving it any thought at all. Now, when I'm holding him and he reaches to turn the light on, I ask him to tell me "on" (and any attempt or approximation is all I'm looking for). Same with turning the water on and off at bath time, or when Camden asks for bubbles to be added to his bath ("You need bubbles? Tell me how you say bubbles!"). Don't expect your child to say the word perfectly; at first, the attempt might not even resemble the word and that's okay. All you're looking for is an attempt. And if your child isn't verbal yet, ask for the sign.

Get your spouse on board.

I'm a stay-at-home mom, so of course I'm the one taking Camden to speech each week and I'm the one who's working with him at home during the day. But Matt knows exactly what's going on with Camden's speech each week. I almost always call him on the way home from a therapy session to fill him in on what's new. I also brief him on our "homework" for the week so he knows what to work on with Camden too. And, on several occasions, when Camden has learned a new word, I've called Matt at work saying, "Listen to this!" Sometimes having Daddy work on speech with him is just the novelty Camden needs to stay motivated.

Pull the vowel.

If your child is non-verbal and you don't even know where to begin to get him to attempt a word, pull the vowel out of the word and try to get him to imitate that. Vowels are often easier for kids to say than many of the consonant sounds. That's why, when we play the Mr. Potato Head game that I mentioned in my last post, "nose" is "ohh" and "ears" are "eee" in Camden's language. "Car" becomes "ah", "juice" becomes "oooo", etc. Camden didn't automatically choose these approximations for these words; they were taught to him by his SLP and me. It was rewarding for him to realize that he did know how to say many of these words (or approximate them anyway) after all.

Follow the three P's: patience, praise, and persistence.

I don't struggle with having patience with Camden-- I have an infinite amount of that most of the time. But I do struggle with learning to accept the fact that speech therapy is a relatively slow moving process. It's not like you can throw your non-verbal child in a 2 week intensive program and expect them to be talking in sentences at the end. That's not exactly the way things work in the speech therapy world. Progress is inevitable if you have the right SLP but it often comes in baby steps and you have to learn to appreciate those. After all, those baby steps eventually combine to make some big grown-up strides.

Praise your kiddo often. They're working hard, and of course they're going to get frustrated sometimes. That's why it's important to go overboard on the praise whenever they try-- regardless of if their attempt is "right" or "wrong" in your book. If you ask your child to say, "bubble", and you get a "ba"-- clap, cheer, give a big hug and let your child know just how smart they are.

And, finally, persistence. Keeping up with speech therapy at home isn't always an easy task. There are many nights when I think it sure would be more restful to just turn on an episode of Mickey Mouse for Camden instead of pushing cars around the floor while say "vrooom" repeatedly. But I always choose cars (or blocks, or whatever)-- even if just for 5 minutes. Because getting even a few minutes of speech in a day is infinitely better than not practicing at all. And if you're not seeing much progress? Keep right on playing. Your child is listening, even if he or she isn't ready to respond quite yet.

We braved the rain for candy.

2011-11-01T19:45:00.000-07:00

Like many of you, we had a rainy and cold Halloween here in North Carolina. About an hour before it was time to hit the streets, the rain was pouring and the thermostat on our back door read 49 degrees. Not exactly ideal conditions for roaming the neighborhood, but we made the most of it.

I had prepped Camden about what to expect for the past few days, but I wasn't entirely sure what he absorbed beyond "dressing like a doggy", "candy", "outside", and "friends". Due to his slow-to-warm-up temperament, I had fully prepared myself to be Camden's candy collector myself; I had my doubts that he'd willingly approach strangers' doors and take candy from them. I was pleasantly surprised that my assumptions were wrong-- Camden trick-or-treated like an old pro. Like his mama, there's not much he wouldn't do for some chocolate.

Ready to see what this trick-or-treating stuff is all about.

First, I've gotta humor my parents with the obligatory photo shoot...

Camden was keeping a suspicious eye on the kids approaching in costume.

We met up with Camden's BFF/cousin, Will, who was dressed as a dinsosaur? Or dragon? Either way, they shared a quick kiss before hitting the streets.

Again, surprising me with his lack of stranger anxiety, Camden tried to sneak into this man's house.

Nan came out for trick-or-treating too.

They walked hand in hand for a long while. Adorable. PS- See Camden's gloves? I talked him into wearing those by telling him they were socks for his hands. This morning, he woke up, took his socks off his feet, and stuck them right on his hands.

Post trick-or-treating: Camden eating a lollipop while also signing to me that he'd like to go back outside. He'd like trick-or-treating to be a nightly event. I'm not so sure how our neighbors would feel about that.

Overall? It was a fun and successful Halloween. Although, I won't complain if it's just a tiny bit warmer and drier next year.

Mommy Speech Tips, Part 1

2011-10-30T19:30:00.000-07:00

Admittedly, having a child with a speech delay doesn't automatically make me an SLP. However, while therapy (with the right SLP) is awesome and can work wonders for children with speech delays and communication disorders, I think most moms will tell you that therapy can't end when the session with the professional is over. Working with your child at home is critically important to retention of skills learned in therapy, and even developing new ones. So, from my completely non-professional point of view, here is Part 1 of my Mommy Speech Therapy Tips:

(When writing these tips, my assumption is that the child I'm working with is largely non-verbal, as my son was just a few short months ago.)

Work on imitation first.

When you have a non-verbal child, it's hard to know where to start. You might point to the family dog and look at your child hopefully while saying, "Can you say 'doggie'?" And you'll likely get a blank stare back.

At 19 months old, my son was basically non verbal (he babbled and could say "mama"). He also could imitate any physical activity without hesitation but if you asked him to imitate a word, or even a simple sound, he wouldn't know where to begin. After having Camden evaluated by an Early Intervention SLP, she emphasized the need to work on his imitation skills. Imitation, she said, is a building block for communication.

So, we started simple. I made sure Camden knew what a "turn" was through play. If we were working on a puzzle, I'd put a piece in and say "Mommy's turn". Then I'd hand the next piece over to Camden and say, "Camden's turn." Rinse and repeat. When it became clear that he knew what a "turn" was, I started using that word to attempt to get him to imitate simple sounds. While reading a book about farm animals, I'd moo like a cow. Then I'd say, "Camden's turn!" excitedly and I'd pause several seconds and wait for a response. For a few weeks, there was nothing but silence and I'd simply move on. Then one evening before bed, I told Camden it was his turn to moo and paused like usual, fully expecting silence. And then I heard it. A quiet but unmistakable "Mmm". I showered him with praise. After that breakthrough, his imitation skills developed day by day. Today, 4 months later, he will attempt to imitate almost any sound or word.

Sign Language:

To sign or not to sign? That is the debate. Some professionals say signing will lead to kids talking later because they're getting their needs met through sign language. Others say that's simply not the case because, as kids learn words, they drop the sign for that particular word. I tend to agree with the latter point of view, as does Camden's current SLP. And sign language? Has been an absolute life saver for us.

When it became clear that Camden had a speech delay (around 18 months), I became serious about teaching him sign language. Prior to that time, I had half-heartedly taught him to sign "more" and "all done", which he used on occasion. Then, after buying the "Baby Signing Time" DVD and Camden having no interest in watching it, I decided to become Camden's sign language teacher myself (sidenote: I've heard from many, many other parents that their kids love the "Baby Signing Time" DVDs, so don't let Camden's disinterest in them discourage you from trying that route). So how did I learn sign language? My good friend Google taught me (seriously- just Google "baby sign language" and you will find plenty of resources). So, I'd learn the sign myself, and then I'd show it to Camden while saying the word. Then I'd take it a step further by actually manipulating Camden's hands to make the sign so he could feel what it was supposed to feel like to sign the word. And then we practiced. A lot.

A few tips? Accept your child's interpretation of the sign, whatever that may be. Most will at least remotely resemble the real sign; some will not at all. Either way, that's your child's sign. Learn it and roll with it. Also, if your child picks up many signs easily but has no interest in learning a few signs here and there, move on. Don't get stuck on a single sign-- your time is better spent finding other useful signs that your child will pick up more easily. Finally, start by using signs that are highly motivating for your child. For example, Camden is a huge fan of playing outside. Naturally, I taught him to sign "outside". He picked that sign up instantly because he wanted to be able to tell me when he wanted to go outside (which is every second of every day).

Make Play a Learning Experience.

One of the first things I did after Camden's initial Early Intervention evaluation was to get an animal farm set. It's nothing fancy; it's a tractor and a cow, horse, pig, and sheep (I also added a dog and cat separately). If your child is all or mostly non-verbal, starting with animal sounds and environmental sounds is a great first step. For weeks, I sat on the floor with Camden mooing, oinking, and neighing while he laughed and chased the animals around with the tractor. He wasn't making animal sounds, but I had no doubt that he was absorbing the ones I was making. Sure enough, after several weeks, he would say "baba" when he picked up the sheep, or would say "nnn" when I asked him what sound a horse made. He was paying attention, alright.

Camden has always been a fan of cars. Cars are a great tool for in-home speech therapy. We still play with them almost nightly. When Camden was non-verbal, I'd simply push the cars around with him while saying "vroooom!" and "wheee!" Tonight, we played cars and Camden said "oooh!" (go) when he wanted me to push my car and "wheee!" when we pushed our cars fast. Music to my ears.

I am embarrassed to admit that we just purchased Camden his first ever set of blocks a few days ago (well, Nan did). His SLP was playing blocks with him in therapy and mentioned what a great tool they are because they work on both speech and motor skills. I told her what a slacker I'd been in the block department but promised to buy him some right away. You guys? It was a great purchase. Camden wants to play blocks all day long. On the first day, I said "ba" repeatedly every time we stacked a block on top of another one. Then I asked him to repeat me. Once the tower was built, I requested that Camden say "go" before he knocked it over. And then we both shouted "wheee!" as the tower fell over. He was having a blast, but he was also working on his speech without even knowing it. Now, whenever he brings me the blocks, I request that he say "blocks" before we play. He responds with "ba".

Schylling Blocks. Love them.

Camden received Mr. Potato Head for his first birthday but I'll admit that we hardly touched it until recently. Once again, Camden's awesome SLP took out Mr. Potato Head in therapy and told me what a great tool it is to use at home. So, this is what we do now. We take a naked Mr. Potato Head and have all of his accessories piled up near us. I sing a song ("Here we go a walkin', a walkin', a walkin...uh oh! I need my ____" (fill in missing body part)). Then I hold out the eyes for Camden. When he grabs them, I ask how he says eyes. "Ah", he'll respond, while putting the eyes on Mr. Potato Head. For nose, we say "oh", for mouth, "mm", and for ears, "eee". These are all suggestions from his SLP, but of course you can tailor that to your child's abilities.

Hi. I'm cute and I'm a good teacher.

Choices.

This is so simple, but so important. Offer your child choices-- all day, every day. When I make Camden his milk in the morning, I offer him a choice between two cups. He gets to choose between two pairs of shoes to wear. When we read books, I hold up two and ask "Which book would you like to read?" And I always offer him the choice between two activities when it's playtime. The reason? It requires him to actively participate in the conversation, even if he's not using words. He might point, or grunt, or sign-- but that's still communicating.

Dear Camden (23 month edition)

2011-10-23T19:00:00.000-07:00

Dear Camden,

Happy 23 months to you! You know what that means? It's time to start party planning! I'm ridiculously excited about putting this party together for you and seeing your excitement on the big day. One month to go!

This past month has been a busy one for us. You started speech therapy with your new therapist, Amanda. You're doing really well with her, but you do get frustrated and let your temper show from time to time when she really pushes you. No worries, though- you forgive her when you're given a lollipop at the end of the session.

Mommy took a road trip this month and left you alone with Daddy for an entire weekend-- the longest I've ever been away from you. You had a great time with your dad, though, and I love watching the way your relationship with him continues to evolve. You pretty much think he's the coolest thing alive right now, and I told Daddy to enjoy that while it lasts. Like tonight, you and Daddy were having a jumping contest and you were so excited by how high Daddy could jump. I asked you if you thought your dad could touch the stars and you nodded earnestly and said, "Yeah".

You've also developed quite the shoe obsession this month. You always want to wear Mommy or Daddy's shoes and walk around the house. When we took you to Rack Room, it was like Disneyland for you. You ran right over to some dominatrix looking black heels and scooped them up while frantically trying to take your boring old velcro shoes off. We settled on getting you some Cars snow boots instead.

At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I'm going to say it again: Camden, you are FUN. You make me laugh every single day. Tonight, when I was putting you to bed, you stuck your milk cup in my mouth and said "Mmm" while rubbing your belly. Then you took your milk away from me, laid it on your pillow and told it "Shhh". And at the store yesterday, you grabbed a tiny race car off the shelf, looked at me and signed "drive", placed the small car on the floor, and sat down right on top of it. You sincerely believed you could drive that miniature toy car.

When I was out of town a couple of weeks back, an old friend of mine was asking how I like being a mom. Without hesitation, I told her that it has been the best experience of my life. I know your dad would agree too. You, my son, are such a blessing.

Love,
Mommy

What You've Been Up To:

Reading the morning paper with Daddy.

Dancing with Daddy.

Jumping contest with Daddy.

And doing yard work with Daddy.

Well hello there, Cutie. You loved this box Daddy brought home from work until Maggie decided to snack on it and tear it to pieces.

Giving Snickers some love. She is so patient with you. Maggie, not so much.

Just chillin' outside.

A regular site around our house. And those are your Daddy's size 13 shoes.

This is the result of Mommy asking you to smile. Nice try, anyway.

******************************

And now, the speech stuff (AKA: the part that's only interesting to me & mommies who have speech delayed children):

Words & Sounds:

Mama

Dada

Yeah

Nan

Baby (not always in context)

Banana (nana)

Oh (not in context yet)

No (not in context yet)

Shh (goodnight)

Eew (gross)

Mmm (moo)

Baba (sheep)

Sss (snake)

Neigh (horse)

Approximations:

Mah- Maggie (usually prompted)

Mmm- moon

Shh- shoes

Eee- eat (usually prompted)

Mmm- milk

ABC Song:

Camden's speech therapist gave me a CD to play for him as often as possible. I am going to keep track of the sounds from the CD he's able to make each month just to document his progress. I realize this is painfully boring to anyone who's not me.

-Hammer Sound (huh)

-Igloo Sound (ih)

-Monkey Sound (mmm)

-Ostrich Sound (ahh)

-Undershirt sound (uhh)

-Yoyo sound (yuh)

-Scissor sound (sss)

A weekend walk down memory lane.

2011-10-20T23:23:00.000-07:00

"The friends who grew up with you deserve a special respect-- the ones who stuck by you shoulder to shoulder, in a time when nothing was certain, all life lay ahead, and every road led home." -the wonder years

And speaking of home, here is my childhood home...I couldn't resist snapping a stalkerish picture out of my car window while across the street at my childhood best friend's home. Later that day, my best friend's mom walked me across the street so I could awkwardly explain to the new (well, not so new anymore) owners that I used to live there. I was secretly hoping for an indoor tour of the house, but all I got was a peak at the backyard.

Yes, I spent part of this weekend in my hometown. It's funny-- whenever I hear the word "hometown", what comes to mind is a small town with a Main Street that runs through a quaint downtown area. My hometown, though, is nothing like this picture in my mind. Instead, my hometown should bring to mind mental images of the White House, the Pentagon, the Capitol-- and all of the hecticness that goes along with big city life.

My aforementioned childhood best friend--who grew up across the street from me and was practically my Siamese twin for over a decade-- is geting married in December, and I came home for her bridal shower and bachelorette party. Returning home is always a bit nostalgic for me. As I headed north on I-95, my mind was flooded with memories of summer nights playing flashlight tag, neighborhood camping trips, and 4th of July barbeques. And then, as the city lights grew closer, the tail lights on every car in front of me started to glow and my nostalgia gave way to irritation as I was reminded of one of the reasons why we booked it out of Northern Virginia right after graduating from college: the insane traffic that is ever-present regardless of the time of day or night.

And still, spending hours stuck in gridlocked traffic was completely worth it when I arrived and saw these faces that were a daily part of my past.

Meet Nadia, left, who once crawled across our 9th grade English classroom on her hands and knees while the teacher was lecturing for no other reason than I convinced her it would be funny (thankfully, we've both matured since then). And Kristin, right, my former Siamese twin. We'd meet in front of our houses on the way to the bus stop each morning. Kristin would pinch-roll my jeans for me and I would fix her ponytail, which was always sideways, even when she wasn't going for that look.

And here are the bridesmaids, who I'm absolutely convinced would be some of my best friends if not for the hundreds of miles separating us. Kristin knows how to pick friends (obviously...ha).

Bachelorette party with Nadia. A big shout out to my sister-in-law, for serving as my stylist that weekend. I lost all knowledge of what's in fashion circa 2009 (aka: the year I became a Mommy). An added bonus? The sister-in-law is the same size as me, so I could borrow instead of buy. Yay for frugality.

What I love most about these girls is that we only see each other once every couple of years and yet it's like we've never missed a beat when we are finally reuinted.

And one final shout out goes to another one of my oldest besties who let me crash at her adorable little condo that weekend. Danielle (and her boyfriend) hauled my butt through the traffic of Chinatown to get to the above-pictured bachelorette party. And when the side streets of DC were blocked off due to a march that was happening that weekend, her boyfriend parked the car and escorted me by (bare)foot 3 blocks to the party site. I owe them both big time.

I didn't stay out late for the bachelorette festivities that night, not only because I'm old and can't hang like I used to, but because I was heading a few hours south the next morning to the celebration of my grandfather's life. I call it that because that's truly what it was. My grandfather was not a very formal guy (and that's a drastic understatement) and we didn't feel like a traditional funeral would be indicative of the type of man he was. Instead, we rented out a room at the club he always golfed at and invited his family and friends to come eat, talk, and look at lots of old pictures of the man we loved throughout the years. Resting next to the picture display, you could find my grandfather's golf clubs with his favorite hat perched on top of them. It was a good day, filled with a lot of stories, laughter, and a few tears. I was amazed by the turnout; there were many people we had never even seen before that showed up and introduced themselves as Grandpa's golfing buddies or friends from elementary school! He was a very loved man, and I think that day was the perfect tribute to his memory.

A Speech Update

2011-10-17T19:18:00.000-07:00

Camden started speech therapy at the new company (with a new therapist) about 2 weeks ago. I keep meaning to write about it, but life got in the way with some good and not-so-good things that have been keeping me very busy lately. So, here at last is my long overdue speech update.

The minute we walked into the new therapist's office on the very first day of therapy, I had a gut instinct telling me this was going to be a good match. This was a welcome change from my gut instinct telling me to run in the opposite direction from his EI therapist (okay, so it wasn't that dramatic of a gut feeling, but I did just know she wasn't the right fit from day one). His new therapist, Amanda, has a tiny little office lined with shelves that are filled with toys. I imagine the closet-sized office is an attempt to keep her little clients from running amok and it works well. I come into the room with Camden for now, but will eventually be moving out of the room (once he's more comfortable) and will be observing his sessions through a two-way mirror in the hallway.

Amanda starts off every session with lots of energy and it never dwindles during their entire 30 minutes together. She gives him choices of toys to choose between, and works on sounds with him while they play together. When he starts to get bored or restless during one activity, she'll finish it up with him quickly and then will switch to something else to redirect his attention and keep him interested. She's very in tune with what's holding his interest and what's boring to him and that's very refreshing to see. She is using a variety of techniques with him right now, including using picture cards (if he wants her to blow bubbles, he has to pick up the picture card with the bubbles on it and hand it to her; this demonstrates that conversation is give-and-take), and the PROMPT method. Prompting involves Amanda taking her hands and actually touching Camden's "articulators" (mouth, throat, lips, etc.) while prompting him to say words or sounds (like "ba").

I also like that Amanda gives me a lot of "homework" to do with Camden on my own. On our very first day, she handed me a CD that had the "ABC song" on it. It's a very basic phonic song (the first verse is "Apple, apple, Ah, Ah, Ah") set to a catchy tune. We play it on a loop in our car and Camden smiles and starts kicking his feet to the music as soon as it starts. He has also started attempting to make some of the sounds in the song which is really encouraging after only 2 weeks of therapy (and it also makes listening to that CD 5000 times a day completey worth it).

He's opening up a lot in therapy too. On our first day, Camden stayed glued to my lap in Amanda's office and participated with great hesitation. Today, he walked straight into her office, climbed up into a chair at the table, and started pointing to toys he wanted to play with. He also let Amanda pick him up and carry him around to reach toys off of high shelves (no small feat with my very selective child; not just anyone can pick him up!). Every session ends with a lollipop, and Camden makes no secret that he's ready for his "candy" (his newest sign).

I think it's been really helpful to have therapy twice weekly (as opposed to his once a week EI therapy). For kids this age, having a week pass in between sessions is just too much time; they forget what they did in the previous session and it takes them longer to warm up to their therapists. Camden sees Amanda on Mondays and Fridays and that's worked out really well so far. He has definitely warmed up to her more quickly than he did his EI therapist and I credit that both to Amanda's personality and the frequency of the sessions.

So far, so good.

Dear Camden (a goodbye)

2011-10-11T11:52:00.000-07:00

Dear Camden,

Before I laid you down for your nap this afternoon, I told you the sad news we received this morning: your great-grandfather, Fred, passed away after a tough battle with lung cancer. Of course, I didn't phrase it that way to you. You're a little young for that right now. Instead, I told you that Great-Grandpa Fred went up to live in the stars with Jesus. You see, the other night when we were outside after dark and the stars were shining brightly, you kept pointing to them. I pointed out individual stars to you and told you the names of the people we love who are living up there now. So this afternoon when I told you that your great-grandfather had gone bye-bye up to the stars, you looked towards the ceiling in your room and waved bye to him.

You won't remember your great-grandfather, of course, but you'll see him in pictures and hear about him in stories we tell when you're older. You won't know how difficult his battle with lung cancer was even though he quit smoking 30 years ago. And you won't know how much it pained all of us to see him suffering so greatly at the end of his life. But I'll remind you of your great-grandfather's final days if you even consider so much as touching a cigarette in your lifetime.

But it's really not the end of his life that I'll want to tell you about, Camden. There's so much more about him that I'll want you to know. I'll tell you how every time I went to hug your great-grandpa at family gatherings, he would smile and tell me he'd been waiting for that moment "all day" (and I'm sure he said the very same thing to all of his grandkids!).

I'll tell you how he spent last summer at the beach with us and tried so hard to win your affection. You weren't even a year old at the time and you were in the height of your stranger anxiety phase. You'd stare at your great-grandfather while clinging to me whenever he entered the room but he never gave up trying to win you over that week at the beach. Finally, towards the end of the week, you looked at him across the room and smiled. He was so excited.

I'll tell you how we rarely saw him wearing anything other than his flannel pajama pants during that beach trip because he was cold natured like your mama. And how he'd sneak into the kitchen at night and eat Peppermint Patties straight from the bag even though he was diabetic and he knew he'd get in trouble if Nan caught him. I'll tell you how he fell down the stairs at the beach house while on the way out to play golf with your Pop. Later that day, I also fell down the stairs (while holding you!) and we joked the rest of the week about which of us was the clumsiest.

I'll tell you how your great-grandfather was a simple man who didn't have a lot of material possessions. That stuff didn't matter to him. He loved his family, he loved his work, and he loved his golf game. Great-Grandpa Fred had never met a stranger and would even go to Wal-Mart a few times a week just to walk around and chat with people there. In all of my 30 years, I never once saw your great-grandfather get mad or raise his voice.

I'll probably laugh when I tell you how Great-Grandpa Fred made a Facebook page around his 80th birthday. And he kept up with it too! He was up to date on the latest family gossip, citing Facebook as the source of his information. His email address always made me smile, too: FredWGolf. So simple, just like him.

He married and divorced your great-grandmother twice before finally splitting up for good over 40 years ago. And even though your great-grandmother has been gone for years now, your great-grandpa Fred still spoke lovingly of his childhood sweetheart in his final days, recalling how pretty her bright red hair was.

I've told you that his final days were filled with suffering and that is true. But they were also filled with love. Your great-grandfather was a popular guy, and that was never more evident than when his room was filled with a constant flow of visitors at the end of his life. His co-workers from his longtime job left notes telling him how they missed his jokes at work. And one of them told your Nan that he always wanted to be like your great-grandfather because he was the happiest guy he'd ever known.

I'll tell you all of these things, Camden, because I want you to know these men who came before you, that are a part of who you are. You come from a long line of kind, good men, and your great-grandfather Fred was certainly one of them.

I read somewhere recently a quote I want you to always remember: Death is the saddest part of living, but only for those of us that are left behind. We'll see your great-grandpa again one day, when we join him up in the stars.

Love,
Mommy

And the winner is....

2011-10-07T15:06:00.000-07:00

The winner of my first-ever giveaway is The Fam who left the following comment:

This bra looks comfortable and sturdy:

http://www.milknursingwear.com/store/pc/Cobacabana-lace-nursing-bra-35p1772.htm
I'm always on the lookout for the best nursing bra!

The Fam, please email your contact information (including a home address where your $40 gift card can be sent!) to: mommy2camden(at)gmail(dot)com. Congratulations!

To everyone else who entered: thank you so much for participating!

(I used random.org to determine the winner of this giveaway. To be fair, I disregarded the 3 comments--including my own-- that weren't entries in the giveaway.)

Let's talk boobs and giveaways.

2011-10-03T05:00:00.000-07:00

I didn't really give the logistics of nursing much thought when I decided I was going to give breastfeeding a shot almost 2 years ago. I have a vague recollection of signing up for a Breastfeeding class while pregnant and then cancelling a few days before class with a dismissive wave of my hand. Breastfeeding, I figured, would be easy. It would come to me naturally. I didn't need lessons! I'd simply put my perfectly adorable new little bundle to my chest and voila! My breastfeeding career would begin. It would be simple, right?

Not so much. It was far from simple in the beginning. Trying to get Camden to latch seemed like an impossible feat. Also, I remember sitting in the Special Care nursery at the hospital after finishing a nursing session with Camden a few days after he was born. A nurse walked by, glanced down at my exposed chest, and said, "Oh, honey. Are you not putting ointment on your nipples?" (Oops, I thought to myself, I guess that's why my nipples feel like they're on fire. Maybe that's something they taught in that class I skipped.)

Likewise, I had no idea how my wardrobe would need to change as a nursing mom. I came home from the hospital to a closet full of clothes that were now largely impractical. My adorable blue sleeveless shirt that zipped up the back? Uh, not gonna work for easy boob access. All of my tank tops with skinny straps? Well, my strapless bras became a no-go, and so those tanks were out too. I scoured my closet for shirts that would allow easy access to my chest for nursing, but often ended up in old, ratty tee-shirts. Not exactly good for fighting the post-partum frump feel.

What I wish I had known about back then? Milk Nursingwear.

If you've read my blog for any length of time, then you're already aware that I've never done a review and giveaway. Never. It's just not really my thing. But when contacted by Milk Nursingwear and subsequently checking out their website, I knew I wanted to give my readers a chance to win a gift card to their online shop.

I received the cute little dress below. Obviously I'm not currently a nursing mama but I was one and I hope to be one again relatively soon. This dress? I adore it. Really and truly, I do. It's made from cotton and lycra so it's extremely comfortable. And see the details over the chest area? Well, that little flap lifts up, revealing a thin piece of fabric underneath which slides over easily-- providing very simple boob access! And the straps on the dress? They're thick enough that you can wear a regular nursing bra.

Their nursing wear includes adorable and stylish tops, dresses, sleepwear, and bras. Not a nursing (or pumping) mama? Don't count yourself out of this giveaway, as Milk Nursingwear also has slings, funny onesies for babies, and other baby-related items.

All you need to do to enter the giveaway to win a $40 gift card to use however you choose on their website?

Either like Milk Nursingwear on Facebook here and leave me a comment telling me you did so OR leave me a comment telling me which item you like best on their site and link to that particular item. If you choose to do both? You've just earned yourself two entries into the contest.

I'll leave this open to entries for 5 days and then will select a winner. Good luck!

A Blog Date.

2011-09-29T19:00:00.000-07:00

I had my very first blogging date today. As in, I met with a longtime reader of my blog in "real life".

Amy (whose blog is private or I'd link to it) wrote a comment to me when I was very newly pregnant with Camden after I posted my ultrasound pictures depicting my itty bitty 5 week old blob. She noticed the name of my RE on the side of the scanned picture (this was only a week before my sister took the liberty of removing my doctor's name from ultrasound pictures I posted because apparently the internet isn't safe and it creeped her out that I was giving out so much personal information. Good call, Lauren. But I'm thankful that Amy caught the name of my doctor before it was subsequently removed.) Anyway, Amy contacted me because she realized that we went to the same RE. Which obviously meant that we lived relatively near each other. So, we kept in touch off and on during the next couple of years; I gave birth to Camden and almost 6 months later, Amy had adorable twins-- a boy and a girl (now nearly 17 months old).

After a while, we kind of lost touch. Then Amy contacted me a couple of weeks ago after seeing that we were part of the same Facebook group (a local mom's meet-up group). This time when she contacted me, we decided to finally meet. There's a local kid's museum that's about halfway between our respective homes, so we met there this morning.

Camden loved it! I haven't mentioned this on my blog, but Camden is obsessed with driving. Anytime we go out to the car to go somewhere, he signs that he wants to drive. Likewise, anytime we pass a car, or truck, or bus, or ambulance-- any mode of transportation, really-- on the road, he frantically signs that he wants to drive from the backseat of the car. His love of transportation isn't exclusive to real automobiles, though. He also signs that he wants to climb into books and drive the cars in there and when we put together his transportation puzzle, he pauses after placing each piece in its spot and looks up at me hopefully while signing "drive". Seriously- he asks after each piece, as if just one time I might say, "Oh, go ahead-- climb into that puzzle and get on that tiny make-believe motorcycle and drive to your heart's content." The boy is persistent, I'll give him that.

But, I digress. As soon as we walked into the museum and I saw the shiny red sports car that was open for driving, I knew Camden was going to have a good time. Sure enough, he drove that red car, an ambulance, and a truck. Then he moved on to mowing lawns and caring for (stuffed) pets in cages in a vet's office. He also climbed a pirate's ship, danced to music around the world, rode an exercise bike, and surfed. It was a busy day.

Checking out the sites while driving through the city.

There were animals to care for...

...and science experiments to conduct.

Of course, we can't forget the chores that must be done aboard the pirate ship.

Camden took his music selection very seriously, ultimately settling on some tunes from France and South Africa.

Owen joined Camden for some dancing (though it may not appear to be the case, Camden is actually dancing in this picture. His "dancing" consists of repeatedly bending at the knees ever-so-slightly).

Campbell watched Camden's moves in awe. He likes to show off for the ladies.

Camden preparing to catch a major wave...or attempting to maintain his balance on the wobbly surfboard. You be the judge.

A good time was had by all. I think there will be a second date.

Breaking up is hard to do.

2011-09-21T12:33:00.000-07:00

I broke up with Camden's EI speech therapist yesterday. It was a long time coming (as most break-ups are) and a relief.

But it was still hard. You see, I liked his therapist. A lot. Like, she's someone I probably would be friends with in "real life" (outside the world of therapy). At first, it was hard for me to separate the fact that she's a nice person from the fact that she wasn't the right SLP for my son. I kept holding on to the hope that maybe the next session would go better-- maybe she would be on time or maybe she would remember to bring some of the toys that she always promised to bring next time. But it never happened.

Truth be told, I think she is a fantastic SLP. I just think she is busy and overworked. She's the SLP at our local elementary school and she sees clients on the side as well. That's a lot for anyone. And I just really felt the need to find someone who could focus their attention on finding the best way to help Camden.

Instead of just doing internet research and crossing my fingers like last time, I sought out recommendations this time. I found a local apraxia support group and networked with some of the moms there. Overwhelmingly, they recommended a private company in a nearby city. Yesterday, I got to speak with Camden's new therapist for the first time.

Let me just say this: I am optimistic. I haven't met her in person and he won't start therapy for a few more weeks. But she sounded proactive, enthusiastic, and informed on the phone. Plus, she was full of ideas. One thing she said in particular struck a chord with me: "I'm going to start by trying a variety of techniques with Camden to see what works best with him. I won't just try one thing and keep doing it over and over again if it's not working." Also? She's PROMPT-certified. Hallelujah.

In October, Camden will start going to this clinic two times per week for 30 minute sessions. After he's comfortable with the new therapist, I will be observing his sessions through a two-way mirror, so that my presence isn't a distraction to him. I'll also be assigned homework after each session-- specific things I need to be doing with Camden in between sessions.

So, yes- breaking up is hard to do. But it was the right thing to do. I have no doubts about that.

Letter to Camden (22 month edition)

2011-09-19T19:10:00.000-07:00

Dear Camden,

My sweet boy, you are now 22 months old! I was just telling your daddy yesterday that I feel like we're seeing more and more of your personality every day. And you know what? You're a funny guy!

My latest favorites include:

You love to watch your daddy put his contacts in every morning. When he's done, you take the case from him, and then pretend to put your contacts in, too.

You love to squeal "Eeew!" when you see something dirty. This includes a poopy diaper, dirt, the trashcan, etc. You also like to follow Daddy and me into the bathroom and scream "Eeew!" while we go potty.

Whenever you look for something now, you get a very pensive expression on your face and say "Hmmm..." while you search for whatever the missing item is.

You love to tuck your animals in bed at naptime and bedtime. You lay them on a pillow and sign "goodnight" to them. Today, you also put your juice down for a nap. You gently placed your sippy cup on your pillow and signed "goodnight" to the cup.

You sign "I love you" now. Cutest.sign.EVER.

When you give kisses, your favorite sound effect is "mmmm" to go along with the kiss.

You mimic everything! You sweep, clean toilets, help daddy build things with his tool set, etc. You're obviously watching us carefully, which means we need to be extra mindful of what we do and say now!

You like to pretend to feed your toy animals your snacks and share your milk with them. So sweet of you!

You like to blow (spit?!) on your food to cool it down. Only, you don't limit the blowing to hot food. You've been known to blow on cereal, bananas, and Graham Crackers too.

Language:

You continue to make strides with your language skills. You've recently started using "dada" more appropriately. You've also added a snake's hiss and a firetruck's alarm to the list of sounds you can make.

Current Unprompted Words/Approximations/Sounds:

Mama
Dada
Yeah
Mmm (moo)
Nahh (neigh)
Baba (sheep)
Eeew!
Ssss (snake)
Shhh (quiet/sleep)
Hmm (when looking for something)

Will imitate when prompted: Babbling (yiyiyi, yayaya, bababa, dadada, nanana, etc.); fire truck sounds, monkey sounds, "ow!", no ("na"), bye (when I hang up the phone).

You seem to have the most difficulty with vowel sounds, as you like to substitute an "a" in whenever you can. But, you're making great progress, and you continue to use your signs well!

Camden, if I could describe you in only one word right now, it would be F-U-N. You make me laugh every single day. Today, I was getting dressed in the bedroom and you were in the family room. You walked quietly into the bedroom and stood and watched me get dressed. It was only when I looked up that I noticed that you were wearing Mr. Potato Head's tiny glasses while watching me with a serious expression.

We have so much to look foward to in the upcoming months: Halloween, your birthday, and the holidays! Daddy and I can't wait to share all of these exciting times with you. You are, hands down, the best thing that ever happened to us and we love you more with each passing day.

What you've been up to this month:

Wearing Mr. Potato Head's glasses:

Hangin' with Uncle Chris:

Loving on Cousin Will:

Love,
Mommy

Literally.

2011-09-13T18:55:00.000-07:00

I love how literally Camden takes everything these days. Two recent examples added some much-needed comic relief to our long road trip.

Exhibit A:

We were stopped at a Wendy's for dinner and Camden was much more interested in playing with a straw than eating his chicken nuggets. He threw the straw on the floor and then started whining for it to be picked up (don't you just love that game?!). Matt picked up the straw and held on to it. He looked at Camden and said, "I'll give you the straw back if you take a bite." Of course, Matt was referring to Camden's barely-touched nuggets on the table. Camden looked at his daddy curiously, grabbed the straw from Matt's hands, and proceeded to stick the straw in his mouth and attempt to take a bite. After all, isn't that what Daddy requested?

Exhibit B:

On the hellish trip home, it was getting to be way past Camden's bedtime but he still fought sleep with all of his might. Exasperated, I leaned over to him and said, "Buddy, why don't you just try to close your eyes?" Camden thought about this for a second, reached up with a pointer finger on each hand outstretched, and attempted to force his eyelids closed. Not exactly what I had in mind, but I had to praise his listening skills.

Where We've Been

2011-09-12T19:07:00.000-07:00

Last week was one of those weeks when I just wanted to throw my hands in the air and scream, "I quit!".

My grandfather had been having health problems for the past few months. Doctor visit after doctor visit left him undiagnosed. Finally, a PET scan revealed lung cancer that had metastasized to his bone marrow and liver. And that is just about as bad as it sounds. Understandably, it was a tough week for my family.

The day after we got the official diagnosis for Grandpa, we found out that Matt's grandmother had passed away late the night before. I know, I know- when it rains, it pours. But seriously? All of this news in the span of 2 days? Matt's dad's side of the family lives in New Jersey, so we packed up our car (toddler included) and made the nearly 10 hour trek north. Camden slept a grand total of 20 minutes during our entire trip up there. My guy? Not a car sleeper. But, terrible sleeping aside, I couldn't have asked for a smoother car ride as far as Camden is concerned. He was excellent. No crying, very little whining, tons of Mickey Mouse episodes, a few stops for food and a diaper change, paying insane amounts of money in gas and tolls, and getting stuck in rush hour on the NJ Turnpike-- and then, finally, we were there.

The funeral was bittersweet, as most funerals are. It was so nice to see that side of the family that we rarely see and they all got to meet Camden for the first time. They were extra touched that we brought Camden because the last picture taken of Matt's grandmother (a few days before she died) was of her looking through pictures of Camden that Matt's dad had mailed to her. She was flipping through them and smiling at her great-grandson. One day, I will show Camden those pictures.

The ride home was nowhere near as pleasant as the ride there and I'd really rather forget it entirely. But, we're home, getting back into the swing of things. One day at a time, right?

Apraxia or Not...That is the Question.

2011-09-05T17:52:00.000-07:00

I have officially moved beyond the But MY child can't possibly have apraxia stage to the Okay, my child might eventually have an apraxia diagnosis, so let's start doing some serious work stage. Or, from denial to acceptance, I guess you could say. It's true that my son is too young for an official diagnosis (most speech language pathologists--SLPs-- won't give out that diagnosis until age 3), but it's quite possible that we're heading in that direction right now.

It's no secret that I haven't been crazy about the therapy Camden is receiving through EI. His therapist is an extremely nice lady-- truly, I really like her-- but her approach is so laid back that my 21 month old son ends up taking charge of each and every session. I realize this is partly a product of his age and corresponding short attention span, but as the mother of an apraxic son in one of my networking groups pointed out, therapy is largely ineffective until you find the right therapist. It's kind of like dating, in a way. What are the chances the first therapist you meet is going to be the one? It's possible, of course, but probably not super common. Sometimes it takes a little dating around to find that missing spark.

Unfortunately, in the world of apraxia (and many other serious communication disorders), that one special therapist is often not found in the public sector (read: through EI). Instead, many apraxic children end up being treated by private (read: expensive) therapists. These therapists are often trained in either the PROMPT or Kaufman methods of treatment, as typical speech therapy is largely ineffective with apraxic children. And, so, it looks like we'll be making the move to private therapy in the coming months (probably around Camden's second birthday). A private company in a nearby city was highly recommended to me by 3 reputable sources, and after doing a lot of my own research about them, I feel like they're going to be it for us. We're extremely fortunate that my parents are more than willing to help us with the cost because we couldn't do this without them. They're pretty awesome grandparents. And parents, for that matter.

This is not to say that Camden hasn't made any progress over the past month or two. On the contrary, he's made some great strides. A month ago, he would not even attempt to imitate a single sound no matter how hard we tried to get him to repeat us. He simply stared at us like we were nuts or looked away. Now, he will repeat simple sounds (think "shhh", "hmmm", "eeew", "baba", "mama", "dada", nanana", "mmm"). Imitation is the first step in learning to communicate, so we're thrilled with his progress in that area. Two weeks ago, when I sang "Old MacDonald" to Camden, he might clap or dance to it, but he would not make a peep. Now he'll moo along with the cow ("mmm"), say "baba" for the sheep, and "nah-nah" for the horse. And, of course, he is a fantastic signer (is that a word?). He has about 30 signs now, many of which he uses regularly each day. The moment I go to get him out of his crib in the morning, he'll sign to me that he wants to go downstairs and get his milk. I love knowing what's on his mind, even if he can't tell me in words yet.

As I told my parents yesterday, I realize it's still entirely possible that Camden is just a late talker. And if that ends up being the case, well, that's fantastic. I think it's safe to say we'd all be thrilled. But, in the meantime, it's important for me to know that I'm doing everything I possibly can to help my son find his voice. The stakes are just too high to play 'wait and see'.

Just because it makes me laugh

2011-08-29T19:00:00.000-07:00

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)

2011-08-21T19:03:00.000-07:00

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.

2011-08-17T18:45:00.000-07:00

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

2011-08-13T10:33:00.000-07:00

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.

2011-08-09T19:11:00.000-07:00

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

2011-08-03T18:39:00.000-07:00

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.

2011-08-01T19:02:00.000-07:00

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!

Day One.

2011-07-26T12:03:00.000-07:00

Camden had his first speech therapy session today (side note: even though our original plan was to wait 4-5 weeks before starting therapy, I changed my mind and decided to start right away. I just didn't feel like wasting any more time.).

Anyway, before the therapist arrived, I kept reminding myself not to expect too much. It was only the first session, I reasoned, and Camden is slow to warm up. This session was more of a getting-to-know-each-other meeting, I told myself. And yet, I think I was still hopeful. I was still looking for something: a click in their personalities, maybe, or the tiniest inkling of progress that would assure me that this was going to work. Unfortunately, I found neither of those things.

She was very nice. Soft spoken. She brought a bag of plastic farm animals for Camden to play with (so they could practice working on their animal sounds together). Only, Camden had no interest in the animals. Zilch. He glanced at the brown cow and gave her a half-hearted smile as she mooed. Then he moved on to his cars and trucks, pushing them around while throwing amused glances over his shoulder at this stranger sitting on his floor, surrounded by a tiny farm.

She made animal noises into a microphone, which she then handed to him, hoping he'd imitate her sounds. He grabbed the mic without hesitation, turned it round and round in his hands, slowly leaned his mouth towards it....and bit it. No dice.

Towards the end of the session, she decided it was obviously time to switch gears after oinking and neighing her heart out to no avail. They spent the last several minutes pushing a bus back and forth while making honking sounds. Camden laughed, and looked at her excitedly. He was engaged, finally.

While they took turns pushing the bus, I asked her a question, trying my best to sound casual.

"So, in your experience," I began, "What would cause a child who is Camden's age to be able to imitate any kind of physical activity-- so he clearly understands what imitation is and enjoys doing it-- but be unable to imitate any kind of sound or word?"

She took her time answering, giving me the (understandable) disclaimer that he's very young to make a definite diagnosis. But she did mention apraxia as a possibility.

My heart sank when I heard that word. I knew, for the most part, what it was (because, hello, it's me-- of course I had already consulted my frenemy Dr. Google about this speech stuff). And I know apraxia (if that does end up being his official diagnosis) isn't the end of the world-- of course, I am so completely thankful that it's not more serious. But I don't think any parent out there wants to see their child struggle. And, on the same token, no parent wants life to be more difficult than it needs to be for their child. Apraxia would present a challenge for Camden, in the form of many years of intensive speech therapy, probably lasting through elementary school. And thinking of something that comes so naturally for most children-- speech-- presenting such a challenge for him makes me a little sad.

But, we can deal with this. We'll know in time whether it's apraxia or some other kind of speech disorder or if he's simply a late talker. Obviously some outcomes are more favorable than others, but whatever hand we're given, we'll play it. I have faith in the early intervention system and I have faith in Matt and my abilities to be advocates and teachers for Camden. Mostly, though, I have faith in my son. He'll get this.

Dear Camden (20 month edition)

2011-07-21T18:32:00.000-07:00

Dear Camden,

You're twenty months old today. Wow...just wow. You're marching right along to two years old, and quite honestly? I'm loving every minute of watching you grow up. Sure, there's something to be said for a snuggly newborn who falls asleep cradled against your chest. But in my opinion, there's something more to be said about a toddler who runs to you as fast as he can, arms wide open, and plants a big, wet kiss right smack on your lips.

At 20 months old, you:

Have graduated from parallel play to truly interacting with other kids...namely, your cousin Will. It's so fun to watch you two together and catch glimpses of all the trouble you're going to make growing up down the street from each other. You two have gone from toddlers whose interaction was limited to fighting over toys to toddlers who run around chasing each other, squealing with laughter. I love watching this relationship blossom.
Use 5 signs regularly (more, open, eat, dog, and go). You've just begun combining signs to form short sentences.
Are still stuck at 6 teeth but you've been showing signs of teething for at least a month. I'm beginning to think you're the slowest teether in history.
Can identify countless body parts: eyes, eyelashes, eyebrows, teeth, nose, hair, ears, bellybutton, and many more. You like to take turns pointing out various parts on other people, and then comparing them to your own parts.
Can now climb up to the top of the playground by yourself and go down the slide all alone. You always look a little terrified during the actual sliding, but then you get right up and do it again when you're done.
Jump to me in the pool and even went down the water slide (with me) once.
Are still hesitant around new people, but your severe stranger anxiety is gone (no more tears around strangers).
Sometimes laugh yourself to sleep at night.
LOVE: your family, your pets, playing outside, riding on Nan and Pop's boat, playing at Lauren's house with your cousins, playing at Tricia's house in the playroom, the pool, reading books, Mickey Mouse, playing hide-and-seek, cars, trucks, planes, trains, and going to the playground.
HATE: haircuts--with a passion. Having playtime interrupted for diaper changes. Being told it's time to come inside while playing outside. The doctor's office.

To sum up all of these bullet points, you're basically an adorable, loving, smart, and fun little guy. In fact, I tell you every day just how fun you are and just how much I love being your mom. There isn't a better job in the world; I'm sure of it.

Happy 20 months to my favorite little guy.

Love you lots,
Mommy

We've been matched!

2011-07-20T11:10:00.000-07:00

Camden has officially been matched with a speech therapist. But it wasn't an easy process. I think I might've jinxed myself a tad by going on and on about how wonderful EI is in my last several posts. The road to getting matched with a therapist was more than a little bumpy.

So, when it's deemed that a child needs services, that child's service coordinator sends out a request for help to the agencies that they contract with. Camden's coordinator sent out a request to various speech therapists in the area and then we waited for a response. Typically, a few agencies will respond and then the parent gets to read through bios and choose the best match for their child. Typically, that's how it works. For us, not so much.

One agency responded to the request for a speech therapist for Camden. Yep- just one. The service coordinator sent me their website and info. I looked it over, hoping for the best since they were the only option. I really, really wanted to like them. I really, really tried to like them. But there was just an uneasiness in the pit of my stomach as I looked over their site: they're a brand new company (they've been in business for less than a year) and the therapist that would've been assigned to Camden just graduated from college. Like this past May. I know everyone has to start somewhere, but I was hoping for someone with at least a couple years of experience.

So I started doing some research on my own and basically turned into Camden's service coordinator myself. I spent hours looking up various agencies in the area that take our insurance, and then checked to see if those agencies contracted with our local EI branch. Then I placed some phone calls. Within a day, I'd heard back from a fantastic, reputable agency that has an available therapist with over 11 years of (impressive) experience. They take our insurance. They are contracted with EI so we'll still get the very reduced rates. I have no idea why my service coordinator totally overlooked them.

I'm not typically a very take-charge type person. I'm a people pleaser and much more of an observer than an assertive type of person. It would've been easy for me to just resign myself to the fact that we'd have to go with the only agency that responded to our request. It would've been a lot less work for me and it would've allowed me to stay totally inside my comfort zone. But I can't stress enough how important it is to be an advocate for your child, even if speaking up isn't usually your thing (it's not mine!). Go with your gut and don't accept anything less than what you think your child deserves. Okay, I promise that's the end of my cheesy After School Special pep talk.

Camden should start his speech therapy in the next few weeks!

Speech Therapy Evaluation

2011-07-12T11:09:00.000-07:00

Today we had our evaluation with the speech pathologist. My first thought upon opening the door and meeting her? She looks a lot like me! Probably just a weird coincidence (I seriously doubt "Kerri look-alike" was a qualification to evaluate Camden's speech) but I was hoping it would work in our favor to make Camden feel more comfortable. And it seemed to! Within a couple of minutes, he had warmed up to the pathologist and was laughing and playing cars with her.

The evaluation was pretty similar to Camden's developmental assessment a few weeks back: she played toys with him, asked him to perform certain tasks, listened as he "spoke", and asked me questions. At the conclusion of the evaluation, here are the things we discussed:

Children who aren't speaking by Camden's age typically fall into two categories: those that have excellent receptive language and imitation skills (and these kids will almost always start talking on their own without intervention) and those who truly are in need of intervention to help push them along.
Camden, however, doesn't fall neatly into either of those categories. Camden's receptive language skills are excellent-- well above average for his age. But he does not imitate. Correction: he will imitate any physical activity without hesitation (he copied the therapist when she knocked on a door, drank out of a cup, clapped, etc.) but he won't attempt to imitate any sound approximations (animal noises, "uh oh" sounds, etc.).
Camden is, however, a great non-verbal communicator. She was impressed with his ability to sign, point, and use other gestures to get his point across. She also felt good about the fact that he is very vocal and has a decent variety of consonant sounds he can make and that he attemps to communicate with sounds when he looks at or points to something.
Our family history is a red flag for speech concerns. My oldest nephew was previousy involved in speech therapy and another one of my nephews will be starting speech therapy in the fall. Neither of them were late talkers; their issues were/are related to pronounciation. Also, my grandfather had a very pronounced stutter. Obviously these speech issues are different from Camden's. However, according to the therapist, speech problems can have a strong genetic component, regardless of the particular way they present themselves.
We scheduled a hearing test to rule out any hearing loss due to ear infections (he's only had two ear infections; I don't suspect any hearing loss) OR any difficulty hearing due to ear wax build up (Camden almost always has quite a bit of visible ear wax, regardless of how often I clean it out).

Also? I finally spoke up about something that had been nagging me in the back of my mind for months. It's hard to ignore the fact that anytime you consult Dr. Google about late talkers, you'll find 50 pages devoted to autism. So, of course that worry crossed my mind from time to time, though I knew it wasn't entirely rational (me, worry?! How very unusual, I know!). Today, I decided to ask the speech pathologist about the connection between late talking and autism. She said that she looks for three things when considering whether a child might be autistic: delayed speech (duh), social skills, and repetitive play or behavior. She then reassured me that autism was not a concern at all in Camden's case. (Insert big sigh of relief from Crazy Mama here). (Sometimes I wish Dr. Google didn't exist.)

She then said that she was a little unsure how to proceed with Camden. He's at the very youngest age that they'd typically start speech therapy and some kids (particularly boys) do have their language explosions between 20-24 months old. But because of his lack of ability to imitate speech sounds coupled with our family history, she really felt like intervention would be a good idea before he's 2 years old. We ended up concluding that she'd give me a bunch of activities to work on with him at home (mostly focusing on imitation games rather than trying to get him to say words) and we'll complete the hearing test on July 29th. If, in 4 weeks, we don't feel that he's made any progress in imitating sounds (or adding words), we'll begin weekly speech therapy with a pathologist. I feel good about this plan because it gives me the tools I need to work with Camden and it gives Camden some more time to "bloom" if he is simply a natural late talker. But we also have the back-up plan of speech therapy that will definitely start before he's 2 years old (something I feel strongly about!) if we decide he still needs it in a month.

Have I mentioned how fabulous I think this program is lately? Seriously, they should pay me to be a spokeswoman.

We've Been Busy.

2011-07-10T06:20:00.000-07:00

We've been keeping up with our regular outings: the pool, storytime at the library, various playground outings, and cul-de-sac playdates, but we've also added some new actvities into the mix.

My neighbor (also known as my sister's sister-in-law, but since that's a mouthful we'll go with her actual name: Tricia) is a former teacher who I've dubbed the Social Director of our neighborhood. Tricia has started hosting her very own storytime/craft time at her house, the first of which we attended last week. The older kids who attended (5-6 year olds) read the book If You Give a Moose a Muffin to the little kids, and then all of the kids helped make a variety of muffins: chocolate chip, lemon poppy seed, apple cinnamon, and, of course, the classic blueberry.

While the muffins baked, the older kids painted fireworks by blowing paint through straws. The two littlest kids, Camden and his 14-month-old cousin Will, dabbled in some nude finger painting instead. They both had similar reactions: they enjoyed the painting itself, but did not enjoy the mess it made of their hands.

The fun morning concluded with a muffin picnic on the playroom floor followed by a Bon Jovi dance party in Tricia's son's bedroom. These kids love themselves some Bon Jovi. Consequently, I have "Shot through the heart..." on a constant loop in my head.

********

Our Social Director also recently organized a trip to a kiddie amusement park in Burlington, NC-- about a 45 minute drive from where we live. We packed a picnic lunch and hit the road early one morning in a (failed) attempt to beat the heat. I was a little unsure how much Camden would be able to participate, but figured he'd enjoy being outside with his cousins and friends regardless.

To my surprise, Camden enjoyed riding with airplanes with his cousin, Will:

He also loved, loved, loved the train ride. You probably never would've guessed that by his expression:

Playgrounds and swings are always a hit, no matter the location.

And I'm pretty much in love with this picture. This is the crew: a mixture of cousins and friends who all look so much alike that we jokingly say that a stranger would never know which kid belonged to which parent.

My previous concerns about the degree to which Camden would be able to particate were unfounded; in fact, he participated so much that he ended the day like this:

And even though it was 90-something degrees and his sweaty cheek was sticking to my shoulder and carrying around a 23 pound sleeping lump is a lot different than carrying around a newborn sleeping lump, I loved this moment. There is just something so peaceful about a sleeping toddler.

It was a good day.

Celebrating the Fourth.

2011-07-04T18:19:00.000-07:00

Fourth of July 2010...

And Fourth of July 2011. What a difference a year makes.

Actually, if we're going to get technical, we celebrated America's birthday on July 3rd this year. We packed up the car and headed an hour north to my parents' lake house, prepared for a day of sun, boating, tubing, cooking out, and fun.

When we arrived, though, my dad came out to the car to greet us and told us that my mom had completely thrown out her back about five minutes before our arrival. Poor thing had been running around excitedly preparing for us when it happened and then she was forced to spend the rest of the day alternating between the couch and the bed.

Seeing her in pain put a damper on everyone's moods, of course, but we still managed to squeeze in some fun. My dad was kind enough to take us out boating, which thrilled Camden to no end:

Think he's a tiny bit excited to be boating?

But then, five minutes later, Camden did something that he's never done before on the boat: he took a nap. He was sitting on my lap, and the heat of the sun and the gentle rocking of the boat just became too much. Next thing I knew, his head was slumped to the side and his breathing was slow and even.

Out like a light.

He stayed asleep when we docked the boat and I carried him up to the marina. Laughter and noise filled the air as we walked along the busy marina filled with adults and children feeding fish, eating at picnic tables, playing games, and sunbathing on boats.

And then suddenly, just as quickly as he had dozed off, Camden was awake, jumping off my lap and yelling "Ba! Ba! Ba!" while pointing at every boat within a mile radius.

Using sign language to tell us he wants to see more boats.

After playing some cornhole, feeding gigantic catfish, and running around the marina with Pop, it was time to take a juice break with Daddy.

And then it was time to head back home to Nan. Thanks, Captain, for the fun trip:

"And I'm proud to be an American

Where at least I know I'm free

And I won't forget the men who died

Who gave that right to me."

Happy Birthday, America. And a big thank you to our Armed Forces- past and present- for your service and sacrifice.

EI Assessment

2011-06-27T11:31:00.000-07:00

I prepped and prepped and prepped Camden's for today's developmental assessment. "Remember Miss Jane?" I asked him repeatedly. "She's coming to your house today. And she's bringing a friend. They're going to play toys with you!"

I'm telling you-- if you have a shy kid like mine, this prepatory stuff really helps. Camden knew what to expect. He waited anxiously at the window for his "friends" to arrive. Of course, he was still initially shy when they came in the house, hiding on my shoulder and peeking up at them occasionally. Today, we had the EI Coordinator, the developmental therapist, and a pediatrician doing her residency at Duke at our house (the pediatrician was there for training purposes).

I can't speak highly enough about the therapist. An older woman with a soft voice and kind eyes, it was immediately obvious that she had years of experience with children. She sat across the room from Camden, so she wouldn't be intruding on his personal space. She slowly took toys out of a suitcase and slid them across the floor to Camden so she could let him make the first move. Perfect for handling a slow-to-warm-up temperament.

She had Camden perform several tasks and activities: coloring with crayons, stacking blocks, playing with a toy train, putting small objects into a narrow container, pretending to drink from a plastic cup, playing with a bowl and spoon, pointing to pictures in a book, and many more. She also asked me a series of questions about his overall development ("Can he run?", "Can he walk backwards?", "Does he walk up stairs?", "Does he point when you ask him where something is?", "Does he throw tantrums?", "Does he follow simple instructions?"). She also carefully observed Camden and took notes.

Camden was a bit reserved, but complied with almost all of her requests (one exception? He had zero interest in feeding the baby doll a bottle. I told the therapist I'm sure this is because he's never been around an infant and he has no clue what a bottle is). He did prefer some tasks over others (he loved the bowl, spoon, book, and block activities) but mostly, she was able to keep him interested and engaged.

She then tallied up Camden's assessment and read the scores to me. I'm a little unclear how many areas of assessment there were (maybe 5?) but I know she listed the following categories: Communication, Social/Emotional Development, Cognitive Development, Adaptability, and Motor Skills. I might be missing a category or two, and it's possible that some of the above categories were lumped together. But you get the point. To qualify for EI services, a child has to have a significant delay in one major area, or a delay in 2 or more areas of development. A score from 90-100 is considered normal and on-target for a particular child's age. Camden scored a 78 in communication. And those 78 points he scored? All receptive language skills (ability to understand people, shake his head no in response to questions, follow instructions, etc.). So, my gut instinct was right and Camden's communication is a bit below average for his age (he scored normally in every other area).

However, Camden's collective score in all areas of development was too high to qualify for EI Services and his delay in communication was not significant enough to qualify by itself. It was a strange mixture of disappointment and relief when I heard that news. But then the therapist surprised me by saying that even though Camden didn't technically qualify for services based on his scores, she was willing to make a clinician's recommendation that he have a speech evaluation with a speech pathologist through EI. Great news.

So, our next step is to wait to hear from the speech pathologist who will then come out to our house to do a more in-depth speech evaluation (instead of a total developmental assessment like today). She will then either recommend speech therapy through EI or, if she feels he's too young for that, she might give us some tasks that we can focus on at home with him.

I kept putting off calling EI for various reasons over the past few months and let me just say this: I am so glad I finally did it. I was impressed with the experience and professionalism of the therapist today and it was validating that my concerns about Camden's speech were finally taken seriously instead of dismissed. An added bonus: Camden got what he thought was a fun playdate out of the deal. So if you're out there worrying about your child in one way or another and are debating a phone call to EI, I say pick up that phone. I have nothing but positive things to say about our experience thus far.

I'll keep everyone posted on the upcoming speech evaluation.

Softening the blow with cute pictures.

2011-06-25T05:08:00.000-07:00

Yesterday afternoon, I walked into the bathroom to find this scene: Camden getting the toilet bowl cleaner out of the cabinet, squirting some in the toilet, putting the cleaner back in its place in the cabinet, and then getting out the toilet brush and cleaning the bowl. Seriously.

He was quite pleased with himself.

No less than 10 minutes later, we had made our way downstairs and Camden was playing under my feet in the kitchen as I prepped dinner for the night. Then there was silence. I looked up from my dicing and chopping to find this:

Yes, that's my kitchen table. Yes, Camden is standing on it, quite triumphantly I might add.

(Yes, I do realize my child is missing an important wardrobe piece in these pictures. In my defense, Camden had just gotten up from a nap and I simply hadn't put his shorts back on yet. I didn't know there were going to be so many photo ops taking place that afternoon. Normally, my kid wears pants. Promise.)

And finally, it's impossible to stay mad at my mischievious toddler because who could possibly stay mad when looking at this face? No one, that's who.

(Ten years from now, he'll probably roll his eyes and think to himself, Couldn't Mom at least maybe SHOWER before taking a picture with me? This is humiliating. So, I'll just have to get the frumpy mom pictures out of the way now while he still loves me regardless of my state of frump.)

In other awesome news (or not...), it's highly likely that Matt's old, trusty clunker of a car died last night (it's at the shop now, getting diagnosed). That'll put us in the market for a new car, since a) there's no point in paying big money to repair a car that's maybe worth $2,000 anyway and b) if we're going to add Baby Dos to our family one day, we'll need a bigger car than the one I currently drive. It'll be painful to go from having zero car payments to coughing up that monthly fee again, but you do what you have to do. Oh, and also? We're pretty certain that our freezer is dying a slow and painful death right now too. That's what its loud, dramatic moans seem to be saying. Good thing we like forking over several thousand dollars all at once...

In the meantime, I'll just keep revisiting the cute that is the pictures posted above in hopes of softening the blow to our wallets.

Well, we survived.

2011-06-21T11:25:00.000-07:00

And, really, we did more than survive. We actually had fun. It was a good weekend.

It didn't get off to the best start, though. For a couple of nights prior to our trip, Camden started night-waking again. And he had a runny nose, the beginnings of a cold. Perfect timing, right?

After checking his temperature 700 times and being reassured by my mom that it was okay if he woke up during the night while I was gone, I reluctantly headed out on Saturday morning. My sister-in-law rode with me and the steady flow of our conversation was a nice distraction for me. We stopped halfway to Northern Virginia to visit my grandmother in Richmond. We showed up bearing treats-- a cheeseburger, a chocolate shake, and a picture of Camden-- since Grandma had just had surgery earlier in the week and I thought she could use some cheering up.

My dad has always thought that Camden resembles my grandfather who passed away 2 years ago when I was still pregnant, but there's one picture in particular where the resemblance is especially strong. And so, I made sure to choose that picture for Grandma. When she opened it, she said, "I bet that's exactly what Papa looked like as a little boy."

We made it to the hotel in Northern Virginia a couple of hours prior to the start of the wedding-- perfect timing. I'll admit that it was nice to relax in a quiet hotel room and get all dressed up without constantly looking over my shoulder to see what mischief my busy toddler was creating.

The ceremony, the cocktail hour, the reception-- it was all so nice. I did have one very powerful I miss Camden so much moment and it occurred, predictably, during the father-daughter dance. Those dances always make me emotional anyway, but watching the way that father looked at his daughter, I started having visions of Matt and me dancing at Camden's wedding in 25 years. He was proud of his daughter-- that much was obvious-- but there was also a sadness in his eyes, probably a longing for the little girl she once was. And I was reminded once again how quickly it all goes by.

Don't worry, though-- I wiped the tears from my eyes quickly and spent the vast majority of the rest of the night on the dance floor in heels that were much too tall. Matt humored me and broke out his best white boy moves. We collapsed into bed, exhausted, around 11pm and were up the next day at the crack of dawn so we could hit the road and get home to our boy.

When we arrived, he was grumpy and exhausted, worn out from a fun weekend (and a late night!) with his Nan. But I have never been so happy to see him, tantrums and all.

We're back to our normal routine now, and I'm glad. It suits us. A break from the every day is good (and much-needed) sometimes, but our every day lives around here? Well, they're pretty darn good too...minus the bronchitis that Matt brought back as a souvenir from our trip. That just sucks.

Happy Father's Day

2011-06-19T18:37:00.000-07:00

Dear Daddy,

You were the first person I saw when I came into this world 19 months ago and I loved you from the very first moment I laid eyes on you.

I couldn't have hand-picked a better daddy for myself. Thank you for teaching me how to play football, and letting me help you water the garden. Thank you for making me laugh like crazy when you chase me around the house. Thanks for taking me outside every evening when you get home from work to help you check the mail. Thank you for letting me ride on your shoulders, for spinning me around, and for putting me up on that high shelf that I like. Thank you for all of the silly songs and dances that you make up that make me smile. Thank you for working hard so that Mommy can stay home with me. And thanks for always telling me that I'm your favorite little guy.

(I might not be able to say all of these things to you yet, but I promise you that I feel them.)

I love you, Daddy. Happy Father's Day.

Love, Camden

Dad,

I've said it countless times over the years, but Father's Day seems like a fitting time to say it again: thank you.

Thank you for working your ass off for 30+ years to provide for our family. Because of your ambition and tremendous work ethic, Lauren, Chris, and I had a lot of opportunities that others didn't have.

Thank you for every time you stood on the sidelines at my soccer games (I was always glad to have you there, even if I tuned out your "helpful" yelling).

Thank you for always being the voice of reason in my life. Growing up, your logical points of view were a necessary contrast to my teenage emotion.

Thank you for teaching me "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me." Invaluable advice.

Thank you for loving my mom. I read somewhere that the best thing a father can do for his children is to love their mother. And you do that well.

And, of course, thank you for being such a good "Pop" to Camden.

Happy Father's Day.

Love,
Kerri

Leavin on a jet plane (or in an Acura. Whichever.)

2011-06-16T13:01:00.000-07:00

This weekend will mark the first night I've spent apart from Camden in nearly 19 months. Matt is heading out tomorrow morning and then my sister-in-law and I will head out early Saturday morning to make the trek back to my hometown in Northern Virginia for the wedding of a family friend.

Camden will be staying with his Nan (my mom), whom he adores. And, to avoid disrupting his schedule more than it already will be with Mommy & Daddy missing, they'll be staying at our house.

I remember back when my sister's oldest child was a toddler and she had my mom babysit. She'd leave detailed instructions for my mom and I'd roll my eyes and think Mom raised 3 children. You think she needs a manual for this type of thing?!

Guess what I spent 30 minutes typing up last night? Yep. My very own detailed Camden Manual. And I learned what my sister knew back then: it's not I don't trust my mom to care for Camden (outside of Matt & me, I don't think there's anyone better suited for the task). It's that Camden has a predictable routine each day, and unless you spend 24 hours a day with him like I do, you wouldn't know which Mickey Mouse episode is his most favorite, or that when he looks at you and says "Ppp, ppp, ppp", he wants you to pick him up. It's these little every day details that comprise the manual.

I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a tiny bit nervous about this weekend. Separation anxiety isn't only for toddlers, you know. But I'm also looking forward to having adult conversation, a nice dinner, and maybe a glass (or two) of red wine.

Wish me luck. Wish Camden luck. And mostly, wish Nan luck.

(Father's Day post coming next week, since our celebration will be delayed due to this trip.)

Speech Therapy

2011-06-10T12:33:00.000-07:00

At 12 months, Camden had one word and I said I'd see what kind of progress he'd made at 15 months before I made a decision about whether or not I wanted to consider a speech evaluation. At 15 months, Camden had 3 words and I said we'd give it a few more months-- until his 18 month appointment-- before I looked into that evaluation. At his 18 month check-up, I told Camden's pediatrician that he maybe has 5 words, and I'm not entirely sure that he's using those 5 meaningfully. His pediatrician, as you might remember, said that he's on the verge of a language breakthrough and that he'd be talking my ear off by age 2.

True as that may be, I decided to silence the little nagging voice in the back of my mind and go ahead and contact our local Early Intervention office to request a speech evaluation. Our local branch is called the Infant-Toddler program and, unfortunately, is not a free service, like it is in most states. In North Carolina, the initial meeting to collect info is free and the assessment with a developmental specialist is also free. However, if your child qualifies for the program, whatever therapies they might recommend are on a sliding-fee scale based on family income. Based on Matt's income, we'd still be responsible for paying 60% of the cost of therapy. Not exactly ideal, but I'm thankful we wouldn't be responsible for 100%.

I was nervous about our initial meeting yesterday because, as we all know, Camden is very slow to warm up around adults he doesn't know. Of course, I prepped Camden that a visitor was coming over to talk to Mommy and that she would say hello to him and maybe play with some of his toys. Predictably, he clung to me tightly for the first 5 minutes after her arrival. He laid his head on my shoulder and peaked up at her shyly. She was great about respecting his temperament-- she talked to me and paid no attention to him until he was warmed up. To my surprise, after those initial 5 shy minutes passed, Camden jumped out of my lap and begin to put on quite the show for the coordinator. He pulled out every single one of his toys and grinned at her while he played with each one. He also brought a couple of toys over to her, an invitation to play. My little shy guy turned into a show-off. In fact, the coordinator labeled him "charming" and "a flirt".

We'll have our actual assessment on June 27th and I'm a bit more hesitant about that meeting since 3 people will be involved. I hope it's not overwhelming for Camden, but I have confidence in their experience in dealing with slow to warm up children. The assessment will be a total developmental assessment even though speech is our only area of concern (that's just their policy, which makes sense). Afterwards, they'll let us know if he qualifies for the program (to qualify, a child must have at least a 30% delay in one area, or a 20% delay in 2 or more areas). I would expect that Camden will qualify because I'm fairly certain he has at least a 30% expressive communication delay. However, if they lump both receptive and expressive communication into one category, he might not qualify. Camden's receptive language skills are, and always have been, excellent.

If he qualifies for services, they'll lay out a plan of action for him. The coordinator told me that they would most likely recommend either speech therapy, or, if they feel he's too young for that, play therapy. Play therapy focuses on imitation and some initial skills that come before expressive speech. Unfortunately, play therapy is not covered by insurance, whereas speech therapy likely would be.

So far, I am pleasantly pleased with our EI experience. She even gave me a helpful tip before leaving. Camden wanted me to help him put crayons back in the box, and let out a frustrated whine/yell noise when I was talking to the coordinator instead of helping him. I reacted instantly and started helping him put his crayons away. The coordinator asked me if he makes that frustrated sound a lot and I told her that he does, especially the older he gets. She said that I need to stop responding to his whines instantly and giving him what he wants right away because I'm not giving him an opportunity to try to use his expressive language; I'm just anticipating his needs or reacting the second he whines (yep-- totally guilty of that). "He's a smart guy," she told me, "And he's realized all he needs to do is yell and Mommy comes running."

So, even if nothing comes of this whole EI experience, at least I was made aware of certain parenting techniques that I need to adjust to help his language develop. Also, one of Matt's co-workers is close friends with a toddler speech therapist and she recommended a book for us to read and sent some paperwork home with parenting tips for late-talking children.

I do realize that it's entirely possible (and maybe even likely) that he's just a late talker, like around 25% of boys are. And I also realize that he might've caught up on his own by age 2 without any help or intervention. But, I do feel good knowing that I'm doing everything I can to help with his language development. Maybe it's my Type A personality, but I don't feel comfortable taking a wait-and-see approach when it comes to the most important thing in the world to me: my son.

Learning to let go-- a little bit.

2011-06-05T18:12:00.000-07:00

It was a big night over here last night, folks. Camden was successfully put to bed by someone other than me. Not a big deal to most moms of an 18-month-old, I know. But for us, it was huge.

It's not that I don't ever leave Camden with babysitters. I'll have my mom or sister watch him when I have to go to school or when I want to run a toddler-free errand, like getting my eyebrows waxed, or browsing for a bathing suit without simutaneously chasing a squealing boy through racks of clothes. And, of course, Matt will be put on Daddy Duty sometimes when I meet a friend for brunch or have the occasional girls' dinner out. But, without exception, I have always been home in time to put Camden to bed.

Our bedtime routine is tried and true and something we've both grown to expect each night. I've been wary to do anything to disrupt this routine, fearing one tiny change might be the snowball that starts the Return To Crappy Sleeping avalanche. Because we all remember that Camden wasn't exactly a champion sleeper for the first year of his life, yes? Right. And I had no desire to return to those sleepless nights again, ever.

Then two things happened: We were invited to an out-of-town wedding that we'll be attending in a couple of weeks, requiring Camden to have his first overnighter sans parents. Gulp. And my brother-in-law was throwing my sister-in-law a surprise 30th birthday party this past weekend, which overlapped with Camden's bedtime.

And so I took a leap of faith: I relinquished control of Camden's bedtime routine and placed the reins into the hands of my very capable mother. She'll also be in charge of Camden when we're out of town for the wedding in a few weeks, so we figured this weekend would be a good trial run.

I gave my mom meticulous instructions about his bedtime routine: let Camden pick out three or four books to read but don't let him drag it out by picking out six or seven books-- a delay tactic he's attempted many times lately. Let him say goodnight to all of the animals painted on his walls. Brush his teeth. Put him in his crib. Turn his white noise machine on. Sit by his crib. Let him hold your hand until he falls asleep.

And off we went to my sister-in-law's party. For the first hour we were there, I must've glanced at my cell phone every few minutes, wondering how bedtime was coming along. And then the text came: He's asleep. It was no problem.

Hallelujah. Now we just need to get through our out-of-state trip coming up soon. And by "we", I mean "me". Because clearly, this separation anxiety thing is way harder on me than it is on Camden.

And just for fun: a few pictures of my sister in law's surprise party.

She was genuinely and truly surprised when she walked in-- no small feat, considering 30+ people were keeping this secret for several weeks.

A rare photo of Matt and me without our little blonde boy:

Matt and me with his siblings-- Sean and Amber.

The birthday girl and her hubby.

Kris, Amber, Matt, and me.

My Beautiful Boy

2011-05-30T18:36:00.000-07:00

A few days ago, Matt, my talented sister, and I drove an exhausted Camden to a nearby park for his 18 month photo shoot. Though he'd had a busy day (and a very short nap), Camden was excited to be wearing his "daddy shirt" (because it has buttons and a collar) and was even more excited that he was getting to play outside.

Let me say this: photographing an 18 month old who is a constant whirlwind of activity is no easy task. We mostly saw the back of Camden's head as he ran full speed in the opposite direction of the camera. Having said that, I am thrilled with the outcome of the photo shoot. My sister, Lauren, did a great job of capturing Camden-- a child who, according to my Dad, has a million different expressions.

18 month letter to Camden

2011-05-24T12:43:00.000-07:00

Camden,

Here is a glimpse of who you are at 18 months old:

Weight:
A whopping 22 lbs! Which means (drumroll, please) you've moved up to the 6th percentile. You've very reliably followed your own growth curve since you were 9 months old. I credit the tiny percentile boost to an eating rampage you went on a few days ago, when you ate anything & everything in sight during your waking hours (even combining pudding with green beans at one point!).

Height:
33 inches. Predictably, you're in the 70th percentile for height. Dr. Wonderful says the same thing at every appointment (he needs some new material): "You're going to be built just like your Daddy. You won't be one of those round kids!"

(For the record, your head circumference is 48.5 inches. This means nothing to me, except that your head is very likely large. Dr. Wonderful didn't tell me this, but you come from a family of Big Heads so it's to be expected. Don't you worry, though. It's for that big brain of yours. That's what they used to tell me, anyway.)

Speech:
Currently, you say: mama, dada, bye bye, bubble, yeah, ball, and you sign "more". Dr. Wonderful's take on your language development? That since you point, sign, & try very hard to communicate, you're on the verge of a language breakthrough. He predicts you'll be talking up a storm by the time you're two.

Your current faves:

Shaking your head "no" when we ask you a question. It's your response of choice.
Mickey Mouse.
Playing outside. You'd stay outdoors all day if I'd let you.
The neighborhood pool.
Running at full speed everywhere.
Cars, trucks, planes & trains.
Music, dancing, & clapping.
Being chased by Daddy.
Pizza, avocado, pancakes, & yogurt. Not at the same time. Thankfully.
Signing to communicate. You've started signing "more" by slamming your fist into your outstretched palm, which looks like both a request and a threat.

Your current dislikes:

Bedtime. Well, you love your bedtime routine, but the actual going to sleep part? Not your favorite.
Being restrained. This includes being strapped in your booster seat to eat, riding in the car, having your diaper changed, and being held. You are independent and active and prefer to be running around 100% of the time.
Strangers.
The doctor's office.
Trying new foods. You've very hesitant with new tastes & textures at first and will clamp your lips shut while shaking your head as hard as you can if I dare try to get you to taste something new.

You've been a part of our lives for a year and a half now. In a way, it's hard to believe it's been that long because I still so clearly remember cradling your tiny body for the first time on November 21, 2009 at 2:29pm. In many ways, though, it's hard to believe it's only been 18 months because I feel like I've known you my whole life.

Back when I was feeling you turn flips in my growing belly, I used to dream about the kind of child you would be. You are, without a doubt, everything I hoped for back then-- and so much more. I love watching you change and grow and learn every single day. You're such a gift to your Daddy and me, and I hope you'll always know how much you're loved.

Love,
Mommy

Parenting a Shy Child

2011-05-16T12:50:00.000-07:00

Yesterday afternoon, Matt, Camden, and I stopped by the restaurant where Matt's brother works to drop off something for him while on our way to the grocery store. After making the delivery and chatting with him for a few minutes, we said our goodbyes and started to pull out of the parking lot when Matt's brother yelled, "Wait!" We stopped as he shouted that he was going to run inside and get his co-worker so that she could meet Camden. Before I could let him know that bringing a stranger out to the car probably wasn't the greatest idea, he had disappeared inside of the restaurant.

I looked at Matt. "This isn't going to go well," I predicted, glancing back at Camden who was happily watching a Mickey Mouse DVD.

The thing is, I know my child. I know that he is a textbook example of the slow-to-warm-up kid. I know that he does best with strangers when they approach slowly and speak quietly and I know that he gets nervous when overly enthusiastic strangers run towards him with open arms. I know that he can handle strangers when he's being held by Matt or me; he simply lays his head on our shoulders and buries his face in our necks. And I know that he can't handle strangers when he's alone or strapped into a carseat with no one to turn to for support.

And so, I braced myself for the inevitable. The co-worker came bounding out of the restaurant doors a few seconds later and made a beeline for my unsuspecting child. And, just as I predicted, his face crumbled as a stranger's face appeared in his window with a loud "Hellloooo!"

My mind flashed back to a Christmas party at my parents' lake house when Camden was just over a year old. It was a tough day for him. My parents' house was flooded with a sea of relatives, most of whom lived out of state and were perfect strangers to Camden. But he was a new addition to our family, and understandably, everyone wanted to see him, to meet him, to hold him. He was on edge for the first half hour we were there, alternating between clinging to me, staring wide-eyed at everyone, and crying if anyone got too close.

One relative in particular approached him many times, playing a "game" where he'd jump right into Camden's face. And Camden would cry, each time he did it. I was exasperated. My mom stepped in and asked him to please leave Camden alone. So, he focused his attention on my nephew, who is five months younger than Camden. When this relative played his "game" with my nephew, my nephew grinned. And my relative gloated, looked over at Camden, and said, "Now this is how you're supposed to act."

He might as well have slapped me in the face. I remember the tears welling in my eyes as I excused myself (and Camden) and slipped into my parents' bedroom. I sat there and held my child-- my perfect, loving, kind child who just so happens to also be very shy. My hurt gave way to anger which led to a feeling of being fiercely protective of my child. For the rest of the party, I sheltered him the best I could.

When you have a shy child, you hear a lot of asinine comments like the one my relative made. Other popular (and equally stupid) comments I've heard over the last year and a half? "You need to socialize that child", "What, do you never take him out of the house?", "Oh geez, just put him down. He'll get over it.", "Oh suck it up kid, there's nothing wrong with you!" And on and on.

I tossed the parenting books long ago-- if not literally, then figuratively at least. But I did decide to consult the "experts" on slow-to-warm-up children, just to determine if my instincts on how to handle the situation were correct. And guess what? They were. Things not to do with shy kids? Force them into social settings when they're clearly uncomfortable. Dismiss their fears. Laugh at their anxiety. Things to do? Respect their slow-to-warm-up temperament. Allow them to take the lead in situations where they're uncomfortable. This might mean that they'll need to be held for a while, or that they'll need to observe for a while before entering a room or joining an activity.

I've learned a lot about parenting a shy child in the past 18 months. I now always prepare Camden when we're going to meet new people: "Camden, we're going to meet Daddy for lunch, and some of Daddy's friends from work are going to come, too." Surprises don't generally go over well with the slow-to-warm-up temperament and I like him to know what to expect. I also know to say gently, "He's a little shy" to well-meaning strangers who are coming on too strong so that they (hopefully) know to back off a little when I can feel his tension growing. I try to involve Camden in as many activities and playdates as I can, but I don't force him to join in; I let him lead the way.

I think the biggest misconception about shy toddlers (or children, or adults even) is that they're unfriendly, rude, or even bratty. The reality is, they're often very loving and gentle souls who are simply a bit more cautious than their peers. But if you take the time to allow them to warm up to you, the reward is overwhelmingly worth it. Take it from a former Shy Child who is now raising her very own Shy Toddler.

Friday Favorites

2011-05-13T11:45:00.000-07:00

In no particular order, my Favorite Camden Moments this week include:

No means Yes.

Camden loves answering a question by nodding his head (often accompanied with a "yeah, yeah, yeah") or shaking his head vehemently, depending on the question posed to him. Recently, I've started asking, "Camden do you love Mommy?" or "Do you love Daddy?" The response is always the same: his initial reaction is to begin an enthusiastic nod but then he halts himself mid-nod and shakes his head no as hard as he can. Why doesn't this hurt my feelings, you ask? Because his poker face needs work. All the while he's denying his love for us, he's grinning as big as he can.

Sing-A-Ma-Cam.

Surely, by now, you're familiar with Sing-a-ma-jigs. If not, take a gander at these adorable little beings that can sing independently but sound their best when singing in harmony (they're pretty much the stuffed version of Boyz II Men).

Camden has 2 Sing-a-ma-jigs and he's always loved them. He often brings them to me and smiles when I make them sing in harmony. Last night, he brought both toys to me and signed "more". I pushed their bellies while they belted out a little tune. Instead of laughing, though, Camden started singing. In harmony. Along with the Sing-a-ma-jigs. I looked back at Matt to make sure he realized what was going on; he did. And then I laughed so hard that tears streamed down my cheeks as Camden sang "Ahhh", "Awww!", "Ooohh", in various pitches, completely in sync with his toys.

Naked Finger Painting.

Yesterday, I was bored out of my mind. Which meant that Camden was also bored out of his mind. Much of our time is spent outdoors these days, but yesterday was gloomy and cool-- an indoor kind of day. We played with his toys, read books, made lunch, colored, cleaned, and napped. And then it was 4pm and I was racking my brain for activities to entertain a busy toddler.

On a whim, I got out a couple containers of pudding, stripped Camden down to his diaper, and set him in the tub. I handed him the containers of pudding and let him go wild. Nude finger painting isn't something I'd want to incorporate into our daily schedule (read: I'm still finding globs of pudding around the tub) but it was different, and the novelty made it fun.

"No thanks, Mommy. I don't need pudding in the tub."

"On second thought, maybe I'll keep this pudding after all." (And yes, I'm aware that it looks suspiciously like he's playing with vomit in the tub. Gross. I swear it was pudding.)

"I love being a nude artist!"

"Oh, hi. I'm cute."

Happy Mother's Day

2011-05-07T18:18:00.000-07:00

"Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide to forever have your heart go walking around outside your body."

"A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden, fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends who rejoice with us in our sunshine desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts."

"When you are a mother, you are never really alone in your thoughts. A mother always has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child."

"If you have a mom, there is nowhere you are likely to go where a prayer has not already been."

"The tie which links mother and child is of such pure and immaculate strength as to be never violated. "

"God could not be everywhere so He created mothers"

Say What?!

2011-05-06T11:59:00.000-07:00

Okay, can I just say how much I am loving Camden's ability to communicate these days? No, he hasn't had that "explosion of vocabulary" that I keep hearing about quite yet. But he finds new ways to communicate with us every day. Having an insight as to what's going on in that little blonde head of his has been fun, encouraging, and often just downright entertaining.

"I'd like to wear this, please."
Yesterday morning, Camden brought a shirt to me and signed "more". (In Camden-Land, the sign for "more" translates simply to "I want". Not exactly what "more" was intended for, but it works for us!) I asked, "Camden, would you like to wear this shirt?" He nodded his head enthusiastically while saying "Yeah, yeah, yeah." (It's never just one "yeah"-- he says it at least 2 or 3 times to make his point.) His choice was a Washington Capitals jersey. They'd just eliminated themselves from the play-offs the previous night, but I couldn't deny Camden his very first self-selected wardrobe choice. No one can accuse him of being a fairweather fan!

"Let's get out of here."
Yesterday, we were at my sister's house and Camden was ready to leave (he loves being at his cousins' house but he loves being outside even more and he was anxious to get outside to play). He looked at me and his Nan, pointed to the door, said "Bye bye" and signed "more". Nan started laughing and said, "Well, I got that message loud and clear."

"I can take a hint."
This morning, my sister, Lauren, was sitting in her car in our driveway getting ready to leave. Camden was sitting next to the driveway in his wagon, waiting impatiently to be pulled as Lauren and I chatted. Finally, deciding he'd had enough of this chit-chat stuff, he reached over, shut Lauren's car door and said, "Bye bye!" as the door slammed shut. Lauren and I looked at each other through her window and all we could do was laugh. "I can take a hint," she yelled as she backed out of the driveway.

A Good Day

2011-05-02T15:10:00.000-07:00

Osama Bin Laden is dead.

There is a lot I remember about September 11, 2001. I remember that I woke up just moments before the first plane hit the World Trade Center, glanced at my alarm clock, and went back to sleep. When I woke up again an hour later, our country had been forever changed.

I remember running into my roommate's bedroom and staring at the TV with her in disbelief as smoke billowed out from the Twin Towers.

I also remember frantically trying to reach every member of my immediate family. I was in college a few hours away from home, but my parents lived right outside of Washington, DC. In fact, my dad worked at a large financial institution across the street from the White House. Every single one of my calls was met with a busy signal, as the telecommunication system was completely overwhelmed by desperate family members calling to check the fate of their loved ones. Hours later, I was able to confirm that my family was okay. I then turned my focus on contacting my friends from the DC area, many of whom had parents that worked at the Pentagon.

I remember the candlelight vigil held on campus that night, and how every student wore red, white, and blue to class the next day.

I remember all of these things vividly, and yet, when I think of 9/11, I mostly think of Marie.

The summer after the attacks, I was working as a camp counselor during my break from college. The night before a new group of five-year-olds was to start camp, the owner of the camp contacted me. That wasn't the norm. Right away, I knew something was up.

"Kerri," she began. "We have a delicate situation that I need you to be aware of."

She went on to explain that one of the five year olds that would be in my group the next day had lost her mother a few months earlier on 9/11. Her mom worked at the Pentagon. Her father, still reeling from the loss of his wife, was attempting to raise a daughter as a single dad. He was struggling. They were both in therapy. She thought the young girl, Marie, would be best suited in my group.

Over the coming weeks, I observed a seemingly happy five year old girl who quickly bonded with the other kids in my group. On the surface, you never would have known the tragedy she had suffered just a few months before. On occasion, Marie would ask me to help her open something in her lunch bag. Without fail, there would always be a post-it note from her father tucked in that bag, with sweet messages like "You're a special girl, Marie" or "I love you so much". It brought tears to my eyes every time I saw one of those notes.

Her dad was less resilient than his daughter. Every afternoon when he came to pick her up, his eyes looked tired and sad. He stood away from the chatty pack of mothers talking excitedly about their pool memberships and summer vacation plans.

One afternoon, I sat on a bench and watched the kids play happily on the playground. Marie came over to join me. She asked if she could braid my hair, and as she twisted my hair round and round, she said, "A plane hit my mommy in the tummy while she was at work."

That was it. She never mentioned it before, and she never mentioned it again after that day.

Today, Marie is almost 15 years old. Her mom will never see her go to prom, get married, or have babies of her own. All because of a senseless act of unimaginable violence on September 11, 2001.

I don't care if you're Democrat, Republican, Independent, or indifferent to politics. Today was a good day.

It was a good day for Marie.

It was a good day for her dad.

It was a good day for America.

Birthmark Removal: Behind the Scenes

2011-04-29T11:36:00.000-07:00

You would think that as Camden gets older, taking him to his birthmark removal treatments would get easier. That hasn't really been the case. Well, I no longer hide in storage closets and cry during the treatments, so there's improvement there.

Now that Camden is older, though, the heartbreaking look on his face as he reaches for me and screams "Mamaaaa!" while his hand is being treated is almost too much to bare. I have to make a conscious effort to stay seated and calm when all I really want to do is grab him, tell the doctor where to shove his laser machine, and run out of the room. For good. No more treatments.

But I don't. I remind myself that we're doing a good thing for Camden and that he'll (hopefully) appreciate it in the years to come. I tell myself that it's highly unlikely that he'll even remember the doctor, the hospital building, these treatments. And then I scoop him up in my arms the very second the laser is pulled away and I feel thankful for the two month break we get in between sessions.

But, you guys? It's working. Before his most recent session a week ago, Camden's birthmark was extremely faded. It probably wouldn't even be something that would catch the eye of a stranger who didn't know it was there in the first place. And Camden's doctor assures us that when all is said and done (in about 3-4 more sessions, hopefully), you will not even be able to tell which hand had the birthmark to begin with. Modern medicine and technology is pretty remarkable, is it not?

I documented our trip to the hospital last week because, as hard it is for both of us (make that all of us-- Matt and my mom have never missed a treatment session either), I want to remember. I want to see the progress. And I want to be able to show Camden one day.

These are his hands a couple of hours before we left for the treatment last week. His left hand is the one with the birthmark. You can still see it faintly, but notice how light it is.

He fell asleep on the car ride over. Normally, I would've woken him up since, much to my dismay, I've become one of those must-stick-to-our-schedule moms. But he looked so peaceful that I couldn't stand to disturb him.

At this point, the doctor had briefly stepped into the room to say hello before the treatment began. The tears started to flow the second he saw that doctor's familiar but unwelcome face and he clung to me like a little koala bear.

Here it is. The dreaded chair. Matt sits in the chair, Camden sits on Matt's lap, and an assistant covers Camden's eyes tightly with his hands (so that his eyes aren't damaged by the lasers). The rest of us in the room wear protective glasses. It's all over in 2 minutes, tops, but it feels like an eternity.

And here's the aftermath. The confusing thing for people who don't understand the way laser treatments work is that obviously his hand looked much better before the session than it does after (like in this picture). What people don't realize, though, is that those purple marks are bruises, not his birthmark. Those bruises take a few weeks to fade, but when they do, his birthmark will be even lighter than it was in the very first picture I posted. That's the plan anyway.

I find this picture both adorable and a little sad. Camden has become fascinated with "boo-boos" lately and will point out a scab if he skins his knee or will point to an old scar of mine frequently. When we came home from his appointment last week, I kept finding him like this: sitting quietly, staring at the bruising on his hand.

So, there you have it. A behind-the-scenes look at birthmark removal. I sincerely look forward to posting about his last treatment one day in the relatively near future.

Lizards, Birthdays, and Easter, Oh My!

2011-04-25T06:25:00.000-07:00

Our Easter began with The Great Lizard Hunt. Snickers, our chubby, lazy cat, decided Easter morning would be a good time to carry a lizard into our house and set it loose in the family room. Matt, Chris (my brother who is in town visiting from Chicago), and I spent about a half hour turning over furniture and removing couch cushions, searching frantically for our Reptilian friend. No luck. We called off our search and my brother tried to reassure me with statements like these:

"Lizards aren't dangerous, Kerri. It's not like it's going to hurt you."

Well, right. I wasn't exactly terrified of being brutally attacked by a lizard. But I did feel extremely nervous about the possibility of a tiny reptile scurrying across my legs as I slept at night.

Anyway. Back to Easter. I was really looking forward to giving Camden his Easter basket this year, since he's so much older and more aware of what's going on than he was last year at this time. We kicked off the morning with some bunny shaped pancakes. I don't claim to be a culinary artist, and I'll even admit that this bunny's ears fell off shortly after this picture was taken. But Camden loved it, and that's what counts:

When it came to his Easter basket, Camden didn't disappoint. He searched his basket enthusiastically, removing one item at a time to exam it, and then taking time to play with each gift.

Here's the basket (filled with bubbles, crayons, a sketch pad for coloring, some candy, a miniature car, two small trains, and some plastic eggs):

What's this? A Chuggington train?!

Vrooooom! Train vs. Car race!

Hmm. What could this be? A piece of chocolate?

Here you go, Mommy. I've seen you eat 8 of these at once before.

And while you're at it, you can take this grass too. I'm not so sure about this texture.

We also got Camden a lawn mower that blows bubbles, which clearly didn't fit into his Easter basket. We brought it out after he was done going through his basket, and let me tell you, he hated it. Did not like his lawn mower one bit!

Can you tell?

This is booooring!

Okay, I'm obviously joking. He loves that lawn mower to pieces. We promptly took it outside, where he pushed it up and down our street for an hour while repeating "Bubbbah!" as the bubbles floated up from the mower.

Later that day, we packed up and headed out to my parents' house for Easter dinner. Well, actually both Easter dinner and Matt's birthday celebration. That's right-- my husband shared his birthday with Easter this year. All of the grandkids had a fantastic time running through the house and dipping toes into the backyard pool. Then, when we all sang "Happy Birthday" to Matt, Camden signed for more singing once we were done. We ended up signing it 3 more times, until we finally called it quits, much to Camden's dismay. (For the record, I sang it again for him on the car ride home. He did not sign for more when I was done. Should I be offended?)

A family shot, courtesy of my sister:

All in all, it was a fantastic weekend. The Easter bunny was generous, we spent time with lots of family, my nephew celebrated his first birthday, and Matt celebrated his 31st birthday (which means we've reached the part of the year when I get to tease him about being 8 whole months older than me!). Oh, and the lizard eventually made it out of our house safely. Who could ask for anything more?!

17 months of you.

2011-04-21T18:32:00.000-07:00

Dear Camden,

Today, you are 17 months old.

I wrote a post earlier today-- a bulleted list of facts about you at 17 months old. I listed how many teeth you have, how many words you can say, your favorite activities and games, and milestones you've reached lately. And then, I looked over the list and realized that, while everything included was about you, it didn't even come close to accurately capturing you.

Bullet number three stated that you have five teeth right now. But it didn't mention how your entire face lights up when you smile your big, sincere smile. When we're in the car and your Mickey Mouse DVD is playing, I always glance in the rear-view mirror to catch a glimpse of that toothy grin when I hear the words "It's me, Mickey Mouse!". Because no matter how many times you've watched that DVD, you still smile like it's the very first time when Mickey says hello.

The fifth bullet said that you no longer crawl upstairs-- you prefer to walk up each stair, holding my hand for extra support. I didn't mention, however, that sometimes you don't look to me for support, even when I want you to. Yesterday afternoon, you were playing out back on the patio. I looked away for maybe 15 seconds to check on dinner in the oven. You took advantage of that small window of time and made your way up to the very top of the steep hill in our back yard. You smiled at me excitedly from your perch and took my frantic sprinting towards you as an invitation to a game; you ran down the hill, arms outstretched and laughing, at full speed. And you know what? You made it without falling. And you know what else? You were wearing a shirt that said "Stunt Man".

Somewhere on my list, I noted that you're still not using many recognizable words. But you are becoming an increasingly better communicator each day. You like to play the "name game"; that is, you point to different objects, toys, or people-- and then you look at me and wait for me to name each one. You try to name them, too, in your own language. You also enthusiastically sign "more" when you want another helping of food, or when you want me to continue to toss you up in the air or play cars with you.

Oh, the cars. My bulleted list did mention playing cars as one of your favorite activities, but that's such an understatement. You love pretty much any form of transportation and practically pop out of your wagon as you point with sheer excitement at every car, truck, airplane, helicopter, motorcycle, or bike that we encounter on our nightly walks. Your toy box is overflowing with miniature forms of those same modes of transportation and you bring them to your daddy or me, one by one, and sit them next to us on the family room floor. Then you give your signature squeal and start sprinting in circles around us, laughing as we chase you with your firetruck or school bus.

My bulleted list could never capture the way your face looks-- so full of pure, innocent love-- as you lean in to kiss me and wrap your arms around my neck. It couldn't convey how deeply you laugh when your daddy chases you around the house, or when you watch Maggie and Snickers wrestle.

The thing is, Camden, my list didn't do you justice, because it's impossible to capture everything that makes up your sweet, loving, playful, and mischievious personality with a bunch of bullet points. You've been here with us for 17 months now, and I still wake up every morning excited to run up the stairs and see your little blonde head peering out at me over your crib rails. It never gets old. It never will.

I love you more than you could possibly imagine.

Love,
Mommy

(PS-A big thank you to my wonderful and talented friend, Ellie, who designed my new header for me. Ellie is a busy mom to a sweet daughter who is a couple of days older than Camden, and she still took time out of her hectic schedule to help me out. Thank you, Ellie!)

(PPS- You might've noticed that my blog title is different-- I've decided to retire "Party of Five". Why? Well, because, I'm hoping that eventually we'll be more than a party of five and I figured why not be ahead of the curve and make the switch now? And no- this is not a pregnancy announcement. Really, Mom. It's not.)

The Cul-de-sac Crew

2011-04-17T06:50:00.000-07:00

(Please excuse the Ugly that is the header of my blog right now. We're kind of Under Construction, though not by choice. I woke up one morning to an absentee header that promised to be back "soon", but I'm losing hope that it'll be back at all. New header coming soonish. Until then, bare with me and The Ugly.)

(Almost) 17 months is such a fun age. I know, I know-- I sound like a broken record, right? Every stage has its perks, for sure, but I'm loving the increasingly active and independent little boy Camden is becoming these days. It's become a fairly regular part of our routine to play outside in the cul-de-sac at the end of our street in the late afternoons. I've mentioned before that Camden is a shy guy, but that shyness only applies around adults he doesn't know. He loves other kids and will jump in and play with them without hesitation.

Nearly every afternoon, Camden rolls up to the cul-de-sac in his little red car and excitedly joins in the Organized Chaos. This Chaos I speak of includes Camden's cousins (Jacob, Alex, and Will) and it also includes Camden's cousin's cousins (Daniel and Lainey). Got that? Yes, this does mean that my sister lives down the street from me...and my sister's sister-in-law, Tricia, also lives a few doors down. I swear we don't live on a commune and we're not part of a cult. It just kind of happened that we all ended up in this neighborhood a few years back-- it wasn't even planned! So, take all of the cousins and add in a few neighbor kids and you've got the wild, mostly blonde bunch that overtakes the cul-de-sac in the afternoons.

Since I don't get to watch Camden in daycare or school settings, I love observing his interactions with the other kids during these afternoon playdates. Right now, he gravitates towards the "big kids" (3-6 year olds). He follows them as they run around the yard; he picks up a hockey stick when they're all running around wielding sticks. I had to laugh the other day when Camden was running, full steam ahead, trying to get to where the Big Kids were gathered in the garage. The moment he arrived next to them, breathless, they took off again to their next destination. Camden hesitated for all of 3 seconds before he was off, sprinting behind them, wanting so much to be a part of the group. I love how much he looks up to these kids (and, to their credit, these Big Kids are amazingly sweet to Camden and the other Littles).

So, yes. It's a good age. Even though his vocabulary is still lacking, he has matured in so many other ways that leave me feeling both very proud and a tad nostalgic for the baby he once was.

And now-- some pictures of what we've been up to the past week:

Playing cards with Cousin Will...

...until Will decides he'd rather go for a swim.

Camden's Cul-de-sac Crew

Watching Tricia blow some bubbles...

I could do without my red, sweaty face in this picture, but I love Camden's adorable expression.

"What? This is a perfectly acceptable way to play with this toy."

[PS- I've been having some major issues with Blogger lately-- namely, whenever I go to publish a post, it converts it to one gigantic paragraph even though I clearly have separate paragraphs in my post. This has been going on for weeks. I figured out how to fix it today, so if any of you are having the same issue, let me know and I'll pass the quick fix info along.]

A Mother's Love

2011-04-09T06:09:00.000-07:00

Every night, I sit beside Camden's crib and shove my arm between the narrow opening of the crib rails so that Camden can hold on to my wrist as he falls asleep. I love this time. The dark room, completely void of noise except for the rain water that echoes from his sound machine. Camden is completely still, except for his one tiny hand that strokes my wrist over and over again.

This is my time to reflect, to think about the day's events or what I need to get done the following day. I make mental checklists, considering all of the homework I need to get done and the emails I need to return that have sat, unanswered, in my inbox for days. I plan a schedule for Camden and me the next day: will we go to storytime? Or should we just play outside and enjoy the arrival of spring weather? I grocery shop in my mind, too, and attempt to channel my inner Rachael Ray, dreaming up creative new dinner ideas (a task I always fail miserably at).

That's what I normally do while sitting next to Camden's crib. This past week, while feeling Camden's small hand gently stroke my wrist, I've thought about my mom. I thought about all of the nights during my childhood when she kept a vigil by my bedside if I had so much as a fever. I remembered the night she stayed up way past her bedtime (and mine) to help me complete a project I'd procrastinated on in true junior high fashion. And she did it without complaining. I thought about how excited I was when she accompanied my first grade class on a field trip, and how loved I felt every time I opened my lunch box to find a quick, hand-written note from her lying next to my sandwich. I remembered every time she took me prom dress shopping and how she'd expertly applied my makeup the night she knew that Matt was going to propose to me.

And I thought about more recent events, too. I remembered how she waited on me hand and foot after my laparoscopic surgery. She showed up at my house with dinner the night I was to give myself my first injection before my IUI. I thought about how she sat in the corner of my OB's exam room on countless occasions, smiling at the sound of Camden's heartbeat on the doppler. And, of course, I remembered how she stood opposite Matt, holding back one of my legs as we all welcomed Camden into the world that November day.

And oh, I couldn't help but think of the way Camden adores his Nan. The way he abandons whatever toy he happens to be playing with when she walks in the front door; how he runs to her as fast as his little legs will take him, arms outstretched, smiling ear to ear.

I thought about all of these things each night during the past week because my whole family was rocked by a health scare concerning my mom. Some of us put on brave faces, some of us fell apart (ahem, me!), and others tried to stay busy and distracted. But, still, it was in the back of all of our minds: Mom was going in for a series of tests last Thursday. And they were checking her for that scary, awful C-word. The results came in yesterday afternoon. No cancer. What appeared as a dark spot on her kidney in a CT scan was, in reality, an accessory spleen. As in, she has an extra spleen. Apparently some people do, and it means nothing. Most people never even know they have one. But there was no cancer. I think I really breathed for the first time in weeks after getting that phone call yesterday.

When I sat beside Camden's crib last night, I offered up a silent prayer of thanks. And then I thought of my mom again. I looked at Camden's blonde head, and watched as his back rose and fell in a steady rhythm, assuring me that he had drifted off to sleep. Still, I sat there, his hand firmly gripping my wrist, even in his sleep. My presence is a comfort to him, just as my mom's presence has been a comfort to me so many times in the past.

There's nothing quite like a mother's love.

You can find him in the club.

2011-04-02T05:01:00.000-07:00

Last week, Camden and I hit up the neighborhood playground on a particularly warm and sunny day. At first, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The playground was crowded with small children-- some swinging, some climbing the slide, others chasing each other around and squealing. Camden joined in the fun by climbing up and down the stairs leading to the slide over and over again (such a good thigh workout for Mommy!).

Upon our arrival, I had noticed that there was music playing in the background but paid little attention to it. There's a pool adjacent to the playground and I looked over to see a teenage girl who I recognized as one of the lifeguards cleaning it. Maybe she decided that the kids were being too noisy or maybe her favorite song came on. Whatever the reason, the music suddenly became louder and I had to laugh to myself in surprise when I heard exactly what she was listening to. It wasn't anything super hardcore, but it was definitely not appropriate for the preschool and younger crowd a few feet away from her on the playground. Think Kanye and Jay-Z-- the uncensored versions.

A dad supervising his son on the slide looked up at me wide-eyed and shook his head as the first F-bomb was dropped. A few moms standing over by the swings collectively gasped and started looking angrily in the direction of the oblivious teenager. Some moms started to pack up and head for the gate. The kids were completely unfazed. Classical music could've been playing in the background for all they knew.

Well, except for one kid.

Just as Ludacris (or is it Lil' Jon?!) declared "We want a lady in the street but a freak in the bed!", Camden froze in place in the middle of the playground-- and then began to bend his knees quickly over and over again to the beat of the music. What can I say? The kid loves to dance. And, I'll admit it--it is kind of a catchy song.

Excuse my blog neglect.

2011-03-28T06:32:00.000-07:00

Umm, I have no idea how this keeps happening. A week will pass and I'll realize that my poor blog has been sitting around neglected. Actually, I do have a pretty good idea of how it happened this past week. Let's do a quick recap, shall we?

School is winding down for the semester, which means I have a couple of big projects due in a week or two. My little brother was in town from Chicago visiting. My mom's birthday was yesterday. Oh, and I have a toddler. Have I mentioned before how busy and active he is? I thought maybe I had. Sitting down at the computer during his waking hours is simply an impossibility these days.

I'd like to promise that it won't happen again and I'll be posting daily from now on, but this week promises to be just as busy as last week. I'll be completing my final couple of field study hours in my friend's third grade classroom (for the semester, anyway). We're getting the inside of our house painted (yay!) which requires Camden and me to find a new home for several hours each day. Most likely, we'll be heading to Nan and Pop's lake house. I'm sure we'll also squeeze in the playground, storytime, and a playdate or two in there somewhere. So, if I disappear from the blogosphere again, at least now you'll know why. To make up for my blog slacker ways, I'll leave you with a few pictures from my mom's birthday party yesterday evening. Forgive me?

Raising a Toddler

2011-03-21T18:11:00.000-07:00

During a lunch date with my mom today, I told her that I now officially feel like I know what it's like to raise a toddler. These past few weeks, there have been some changes in Camden that, collectively, have made the transition from Baby to Toddler pretty complete.

Now, I am 110% thankful that I get to stay at home with Camden. I wouldn't change it for the world. But lately, I've come to see the value in the structure & activities that daycare can provide for a toddler. Camden has reached an age where he wants to be engaged in an activity during every waking moment. Gone are the days when he'd play contently with his race track on the family room floor. Now, from the moment he wakes in the morning it's: GO-GO-GO! I plan our days so we spend very little time in the house. If you can't find us strolling around the neighborhood pond feeding the ducks, you might find us at the playground climbing up & down the stairs. If you don't find us outside, we're probably at storytime, or on a lunch date, or running errands around town. As long as we're busy, Camden is happy.

Another major change I've noticed lately is Camden's increased frustration when he's unable to communicate his needs (or, more accurately, his WANTS) to us. He has officially graduated from babbling to speaking gibberish-- he speaks entire sentences in another language. Of course, he thinks he's making his point very clearly, talking animatedly with exaggerated pointing, and so if we don't "get it", he makes his favorite new sound: a combination of a grunt/whine that is so high pitched that it's like fingernails on a blackboard. And he turns bright red with frustration. (And yes, I know we could teach him to sign. But unless I can teach him to sign things like, "Mom, lift me up to that light switch so I can flip it and turn the fan on", then it's kind of pointless in these situations).

And the tantrums. Oh, the tantrums. Of course, I know that they're a given when parenting a toddler. But it's still an adjustment to watch my child go from a sweet, smiley baby who I could tote anywhere with nary a complaint to an extremely opinioned toddler who can not be interrupted from his busy whirlwind of activities for something as boring as a diaper change!

Is it exhausting? Yes. Annoying? Sometimes. Yet, call me crazy, but I still love this age. Sure, I occasionally miss the cooperative lump of sleeping newborn that he used to be, but I enjoy this age so much more-- tantrums & all. He might be strong-willed and opinionated, but he's also completely loving, totally fun, & enormously sweet.

(Happy 16 months, Camden. I love you to bits & pieces.)

Lately, I've been...

2011-03-15T10:52:00.000-07:00

Hangin' out at the airport playground...

Watchin' the planes take off...

Playing with my cousin Will...

Laughin' with my Nan (Mommy's Mom)...

Getting tickled by Nonnie (Daddy's Mom)...

Loungin' with Maggie...

Being really cute....

...And basically just growing up. WAY TOO FAST.

Teenage Dread

2011-03-13T06:23:00.001-07:00

If you're a first-time mom who has ever complained about your child's [napping, eating, whining, tantrums, etc.] to a seasoned mom, it's highly likely that you've heard this response at some point: "You think that's bad? Just wait 'til you've got a teenager!"

And the experienced mom issues the warning with such disdain in her voice that you wonder if even the brief mention of this time period in her child's life is enough to send her back to her therapist's couch, curled up in the fetal position.

And, inevitably, it also makes you wonder: What am I in for?

If we're going strictly off my teenaged karma, then I think we'll be okay. Mostly, I was a good kid. I always made the honor roll, had a solid group of friends, & didn't take smoke breaks in the bathroom between classes. That's not to say I didn't make mistakes. I just didn't make land-me-in-jail mistakes.

There was the time, when I was 15 years old & without a driver's license, that I decided I was going to take my sister's car for a spin around the neighborhood. My parents were at work, and quite frankly, I have no recollection of where my siblings were when this brilliant idea dawned on me. I grabbed my sister's keys, hopped in her gray Toyota, and proceeded to drive around my neighborhood at about 8 mph. Such a rebel, I know. I turned back onto my street, and my heart stopped when I saw my best friend's dad walking towards the curb to collect his trashcan. So, I did what any rational teenager would do: I ducked. And my neighbor watched in amazement as the headless driver navigated the car up my driveway. (He did, of course, end up discovering it was me who was driving the car when I sheepishly climbed out a few minutes later. He never mentioned it to my parents, bless his heart.)

Now, if we're going off Matt's teenaged karma, it's a whole different story. Matt was a nice kid, no doubt about it. But he was also known to throw parties, sneak out of his bedroom window, & make an appearance in his classes only sporadically. There are a million ways that I hope Camden does take after his daddy, but emulating his teenage years just isn't one of them.

Truth be told, I spend very little time worrying about raising a teenager. I figure there will be ample time for that later, when Camden is studying for his driver's license test or getting ready to go out on his first date. For now, I'll stick to worrying about the length of his naps & whether or not he ate enough green beans at dinner. Simple worries.

And I'll pray fervently that his first girlfriend isn't a wannabe-badass covered in tattoos. I'll leave you wondering which of his parents would be responsible for that karma.

Evolution of a Crib Sleeper

2011-03-07T12:32:00.000-08:00

When I was pregnant with Camden, I thought very little about where he was going to sleep. It just wasn't something that crossed my mind. Sure, we purchased and assembled the crib in his nursery. We borrowed a bassinet from a friend. We even were given an Arms Reach Co-Sleeper which was stationed right next to my side of the bed. I just figured we'd do a trial & error type deal to determine where he slept best.

It started in the hospital. After being released from the Special Care nursery, Camden came to spend the night in my post-partum room. He was swaddled & sleeping in his tiny plastic hospital-issued bassinet. Matt was asleep in the reclining chair next to my bed. I laid awake, alternately staring wide-eyed at my brand spankin' new baby, and staring at at the ceiling, begging for sleep to come. When it didn't come in an hour or two, I picked up my tiny bundle from the bassinet & held his little sleeping form in my arms. I remember being nervous that the on-call nurse would walk by my room & scold me for sleeping with my baby. After only a few minutes of cradling him in my arms, I was fast asleep. Finally.

When we came home, I'd occasionally put Camden in his bassinet to sleep. Every now and then, we'd lay him down in his Arms Reach co-sleeper for a nap. At night, though, he inevitably ended up in our bed-- usually in the wee hours of the morning. Yes, it did make night nursing easier & more efficient. But mostly? He slept better & I slept better with his tiny swaddled body close to mine.

Thus, a co-sleeping baby was born. Unintentionally, but it happened just the same. When Camden became more aware of his surroundings & who he was sleeping with, he went from sleeping in 5-6 hour stretches to waking up every 2-3 hours all night long. This transition took place when he was 3 months old. And it lasted until he was 14 months old, when we made the difficult decision to sleep train him. (Yes, it's true-- I woke up every 2-3 hours all night long for a year.)

I think part of my unwillingness to sleep train Camden came from my strong feeling of connection towards the Attachment Parenting movement and everything they stand for (Duh, who doesn't want to raise a child who grows up to be a secure, loving, and attached adult?). I'd find AP sites & blogs flooded with information about how sleep training (and, specifically, the "cry it out" method of sleep training) harms a baby's attachment towards his/her parents and, even worse, can cause long term emotional damage. It's not that I necessarily thought that these people were right. It was more like I was scared that they might be.

And so, I forged ahead, trying everything I could think of to help Camden sleep better without sleep training him. I read the "No Cry Sleep Solution". I moved him to a mattress on the floor of our bedroom. I night weaned him. I slept with him on a mattress on the floor in his room. Nothing worked. While I was no longer nursing him back to sleep every two hours at night, he was still waking just the same. There were also many other inconveniences that went along with co-sleeping. I reverted back to my first grade bedtime of 8:30 just so I could try to piece together enough broken sleep to be relatively functional the next morning. When Camden woke during the night, he'd only fall back asleep if my arm was wrapped firmly around him. A few minutes later, he'd be sleeping peacefully & I'd be attempting to wiggle my numb, tingly arm out from under him without waking him up for the 50th time. Basically? It just wasn't working for us. At all.

Then, in January, I started having heart palpitations several times a day, every day. Believe it or not, they are a very common side effect of sleep deprivation. I don't mention this to be dramatic; heart palpitations are rarely dangerous. But it just shows what a toll long term sleep deprivation can take on the body. It was time for a change. I hated it, but I was sure of it.

The rest of the details have been fairly well chronicled on this blog: I enlisted Matt's help, he became a Rockstar Sleep Trainer, & now Camden sleeps. Pretty darn well (knock on wood a million times). In his crib.

Want to know a little secret? We let him cry. I know, I know. I said I would never, ever, EVER do it. And then we did. And the world didn't implode. Even better? My son still loves me just the same. (Clarification: We didn't do traditional CIO. Rather, when Camden woke during the night, we'd give him a few minutes to work it out himself instead of sprinting full speed to his cribside. Most of the time, he'd put himself right back to sleep within a few minutes. Win.)

I think it's important to clarify that I am absolutely not knocking co-sleeping. I've read about plenty of moms who are able to get a full night's rest while co-sleeping because they're able to sleep straight through their baby's nursing sessions. For these moms, I can understand how long term co-sleeping works & makes sense. I'm simply not one of them. There are also toddlers out there who can sleep with their parents and not fall into the waking-every-few-hours trap. I know this because my oldest nephew was a co-sleeper who also slept through the night. Camden, however, is not one of those toddlers.

And, so, while I'll always hold our co-sleeping experience close to my heart, it was time for it to come to an end. My days of being a functional zombie are officially over. Until our next child comes along anyway.

My Least Favorite Mom Type

2011-03-02T11:06:00.001-08:00

So, I'm well aware of the fact that everyone parents differently. I mean, I knew that long before I even had a child of my own. Lately, though, as Camden & I have been spending the majority of our days out and about, I have had the opportunity to observe some of these differences firsthand. Look, as long as you're not hurting your kid or affecting mine, I truly don't care how you parent. I may or may not agree with your choices, but that's beside the point.

At virtually all of our outings these days, I inevitably come across the same type of mom at some point. Perhaps you've met her as well. She's normally surrounded by a group of friends, talking animatedly and laughing loudly. Her kid? Is nowhere in sight. She's the Free For All Mom. She figures that, with so many adults in the general vicinity, someone must be watching her child. And that means she's free to have plenty of quality time with her former sorority sisters.

We first crossed paths with this Mom Type at the airport playground a few weeks back. Camden was happily pushing his riding toy down a pretend runway, while pointing out airplanes taking off in the distance. A little girl who was easily a few years older than Camden approached us and proceeded to yank Camden's toy away from him. I gently took the toy away from her, handed it back to Camden, and told her it was Camden's turn right now. I asked if she might have some other toys to play with. No dice. This girl followed us around for the next several minutes, alternately whining and trying once again to steal his toy. (Yes, I realize that Camden has to learn to share. We're currently working on that, but that's another post for another day. Besides, I'm not sure it applies in a situation when a much-older child is forcibly grabbing toys from a small toddler.) Anyway, let me be clear: I don't fault the little girl in this situation. At all. It's natural for kids to want other kids' toys. I do, however, fault the mother who was so wrapped up in her circle of girlfriends that she had essentially appointed me to discipline a child I'd never met in my life. Some people might be comfortable with that. I'm not one of those people.

It happened again this morning at the library. Camden and I were sitting in the storytime room and were watching as the teacher clapped and sang. Out of nowhere, the fastest crawler in the world charged towards us. I smiled & waved as he attempted to climb into my lap, which is no biggie. Happens all the time in those settings. Then he directed his attention towards my purse which was sitting nearby. He started to dig through it, emptying it of its contents. My wallet, keys, and phone were scattered around the floor. Once again, I don't blame the kid! At all. Purses are tempting, I know. They're like a baby/toddler magnet. Camden loves them too. But I was highly annoyed to look over and see his mother smiling calmly while she watched me attempt to retrieve my keys from her child's tiny but powerful grip while also keeping one arm firmly wrapped around Camden who was trying to make a break for the door. That? I don't get. At all. (Just to show that I don't think my child is a perfect little angel, Camden attempted to go purse-diving in another mom's bag just a few short minutes after this incident. But, instead of laughing and sitting idly by while letting her discipline my child, I stepped in. Call me crazy, but I redirected Camden's attention elsewhere and moved him away from her bag.)

I guess my point is this: I don't care if you cloth-diaper or use disposables. I don't care if you attempt to potty train your 15 month old or have a 3 year old still in diapers. I don't care if you breastfeed or formula feed, if you co-sleep or crib sleep. I don't care if your toddler eats only organic food or if you hit up the McDonald's drive-thru for a Happy Meal every Friday night.

All I ask?

Watch your kid. I am not your babysitter.

Sleep Training Through Matt's Eyes

2011-02-28T18:09:00.000-08:00

Ladies & Gentlemen(?), may I introduce you to my sometimes guest blogger, better known as my husband, Camden's father, & a fabulous sleep trainer. Below is Matt's take on his past month of sleep training:

A month ago, we embarked on a sleep training mission. I have found that you learn a ton about yourself at 4 in the morning when you have had very little sleep in a few days. Below are some of the things I have found myself thinking in the middle of the night while questioning my sanity:

Everyone thinks that their baby has some amazing, unique talents. Camden does! He has the ability to wake up from a deep sleep and then proceed to not blink for 15 minutes.
Why does the train conductor downtown lay on the horn at 3:44am? I am convinced that he is not warning anyone of anything. I think he is so pissed to be up at that time and he wants the rest of us to know it.
Over the past 30 days, I have blamed many things for waking Camden from a fragile sleep. The cat, the furnace coming on, the neighbor taking out the trash, etc. By far the worst? The time I woke him up when I lost my balance after falling asleep while standing up and leaning against his crib.
One time I had to walk out of the room to prevent my laughter from waking Camden up. He had been waking up over and over again that night. All I could picture in my head was Frank the Tank from "Old School" when he got shot with the tranquilizer dart.

I am so glad Camden has finally adjusted to sleeping because I needed it not only for his sanity but clearly for mine too.

15 month check-up

2011-02-23T10:14:00.000-08:00

I hate that I now dread Camden's well baby check-ups. I think Dr. Obsessive really did a number on my nerves all those months ago. And even though I adore his new pediatrician, I can't help but get that familiar knot in my stomach before each visit.

This month, I have been worried about Camden's verbal development. Physically, he's always been ahead of the game: an early sitter, crawler, walker, and runner. His verbal development has been a different story. He didn't start truly babbling consonant sounds until he was 9 months old. Since then, he has added a few words, but still favors babbling. His receptive language, however, is outstanding. For months, he has been able to understand and follow simple instructions. It just seemed to me that his expressive language was lagging behind a bit.

It certainly doesn't help matters any that speech posts have been running rampant on my "birth board"-- the community of mothers who also have toddlers that were born in November 2009. There seem to be two types of posts making appearances lately: the "My 15 month old only says 3 words and her pediatrician is referring her to a therapist" post AND the "My 15 month old has 50 words!" post. Both were concerning to me for obvious reasons.

So, I went to his appointment yesterday feeling nervous but hopeful. Dr. Wonderful opened by asking his usual question: "Any concerns you'd like to talk about?"

I immediately voiced my worries about his verbal development.

"Before you say anything else or tell me about his verbal skills, let me tell you what he should be doing. He should be saying 3 words. Probably Mama or Mom, no, uh-oh, or something along those lines."

I breathed a sigh of relief. Camden does have 3 words, and he demonstrated just how well he can use "Mom" in context when Dr. Wonderful was trying to take his measurements and he reached for me while screaming, "Mooooooooooooooooooom!!!!"

He did say, however, that he should have 12 words by his 18 month appointment. So, based on a fantastic mom blogger's recommendation, I ordered him some First Words Flashcards and we're going to read and practice and read some more. I want to do everything I can to help him get there.

And, just because it's been such a popular topic in my posts, I'll give a weight update: Camden has gained a pound and a half since his one year appointment. He is weighing in at a whopping (ha) 20 lbs, 8 oz. He's still holding steady in the 5th percentile for weight and has been consistently following his own curve for months now. My skinny guy is tall, though: he continues to be in the 75th percentile for height. After taking his measurements, Dr. Wonderful looked at Matt and said, "He's built just like you. He's going to be able to eat whatever he wants and not gain a pound." Must be nice!

Overall, it was a good visit. Dr. Wonderful declared Camden to be "perfect" before saying his goodbyes. My goal is to walk into his 18 month appointment completely relaxed, my stomach void of those familiar knots. I'll just have to remember to leave the Crazy at home that day.

The Lunacy of the Early Days

2011-02-18T09:35:00.000-08:00

My earliest days of parenting still make me laugh.

I don't care how many books you read while pregnant or how prepared you think you are---nothing prepares a first-time mom for the earliest days of motherhood.

I think we all start off pretty confidently. When I started to get nervous about impending motherhood while pregnant, I'd simply remind myself how much experience I had with children:

My brother is 8 years younger than me. Growing up, I did a lot of caring for him while my parents were at work.

During my summer breaks from college, I taught a 3-year-old preschool class.

During high school, I tutored elementary & middle school students in reading & math.

See?! No need to worry! I was going to be a pro, I just knew it.

Only, I overlooked a few flaws in my logic. Having your kid brother tag along with you on dates? It's nice and all, and probably not something a lot of teenage girls would be up for, but it hardly qualifies as parenting.

And, when considering my preschool teaching days, I conveniently overlooked the fact that newborns generally don't pop out of the birth canal potty trained & with a fairly extensive vocabulary. I mean, mine didn't.

I don't even have to explain why my "But I was a tutor!" reasoning was flawed. For some reason, helping an eighth grader solve an algebraic equation doesn't really translate to helping a screaming newborn learn how to latch on to nurse.

So, as prepared as I thought I was, I just wasn't. At all.

Two experiences in particular illustrate the incompetence of my early days with Camden better than I could try to explain in words:

When Camden was only a couple of weeks old, a construction worker in our neighborhood cut an underground power line. It was winter, it was freezing outside, and we lost power. Matt had gone back to work. I was alone with a newborn & my house was freezing. Enter: Panic. I bundled Camden up and huddled under a blanket with him on the couch. Surely, the power would come back on soon. Only, it didn't. I watched as our thermostat dropped from 70 to 67 to 58 degrees.

Now, this might prove to be a very tough situation if we had been snowed in. Or, if I lived in the middle of a hundred acre farm with no neighbors or relatives for miles & miles. Or, if I didn't have a car. None of these obstacles existed. In fact, my parents are only a 30 minute drive away. And my sister? Well, she lives a few houses down from us. And she hadn't lost power that day. So, why was I panicking? Hormones, I guess. And new motherhood.

I called my mom who instructed me to walk down to my sister's house. I very clearly remember crying and telling her that I couldn't get Camden and myself ready ALL BY MYSELF! And then, because she is fantastic (and because she was probably a little concerned about my mental state), she drove all the way to my house to drive Camden & me to my sister's house-- just down the road. Ridiculous, I know.

And, my second Early Days Parenting Fail:

Camden was probably 3 weeks old. He was sleeping on my chest while Matt and I watched TV. All of a sudden, he sat up, turned bright red and gallons of projectile spit up came flying out of his mouth. I screamed. And handed him to Matt. And then screamed some more. And yes, I asked Matt if I should call 911. Can you imagine how that call would've gone?

Dispatcher: 911, what is your emergency?

Me: It's my son! A bunch of white stuff just came flying out of his mouth!!! SEND HELP IMMEDIATELY!

Dispatcher: Ma'am, are you telling me that you need an ambulance because your son just spit up?

Yes, motherhood is tough-- especially in those earliest days. It doesn't matter what titles you've held on your resume in your previous life. And it doesn't matter that you spent your entire pregnancy engrossed in "Babywise" and "The Happiest Baby on the Block". It's still a fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants, trial and error learning experience.

But it's also the most amazing, fulfilling, rewarding, and humbling experience you'll ever have.

A Hodge Podge of Busyness

2011-02-14T14:44:00.000-08:00

When Camden passed out in his crib tonight, I have no doubt that it was due to sheer exhaustion.

Simply put, we have been B-U-S-Y. I've always considered there to be two types of busy: good busy and not-so-good busy. Being busy with errands and cleaning and homework? Not so good. But being busy with friends and family and travel? It's a very good thing.

And, fortunately for us, we have been good busy.

My parents recently purchased a lake house on the border of Virginia & North Carolina. Matt, Camden, & I took a little road trip this weekend to help them move some furniture. (Actually, Matt helped my dad move a mattress into the house and then the rest of the time was spent helping them relax, play with Camden, drink wine, go out to dinner, and take walks outside. We're generous like that.)

Camden loved being at the lake. He operated in one speed all weekend: turbo. He ran from room to room, inspecting the house and slamming doors. He ran up and down hills outside. And then, when we went out to dinner, he ran around the restaurant, pointing to anything & everything, making friends everywhere he turned. We were all looking at each other like Who is this kid? Has this whole shy thing been an act all along?!

Another thing happened at the lake later that night: I solidified the end of my co-sleeping career. Though Camden has been in his crib at home for a few weeks now, we shared a bed at the lake. Maybe Camden forgot how to have a bedmate. Or maybe I just got used to having my own space to stretch out. Whatever the reason, very little sleep was had that night. Camden tossed and turned, finding it impossible to fall into a deep sleep. I stared at the ceiling while being kicked in the ribs by tiny arms and legs, flailing about in frustration. So, goodbye Co-Sleeping. It was fun while it lasted. But we are over. For good.

After a sleepless night, we headed home early the next morning. We unpacked our bags, attempted to squeeze in a quick nap, and then got ready for a visit from a childhood friend of Matt's. His friend was stopping through town with his wife and 5 month old son and we decided to take them out for an afternoon at our local Life & Science Museum. We checked out the butterfly exhibit, watched some bears rolling around, were grossed out by the roach display, & watched Camden laugh his head off at a duck bobbing around in a small pond.

Enjoying the museum with Daddy:

Truth be told, he probably had the most fun just going up and down the stairs at the museum. Over and over and over again. Mommy's thighs were burning at the end of the day.

So, yes. We were busy. And now we're back home and the company is gone and we've returned to our normal routine. But this week? We're going to have spring-like temperatures. So, I do forsee some more Good Busy in our very near future.

And, just because it was brought to my attention that I've been somewhat slacking in the picture department, I'll leave you with a couple of recent pictures:

Those top teeth were a nightmare and a half while they were coming in, but they sure are darn cute!

Any day that it's not unbearably cold, we play outside. This boy is an outdoor kid through and through. It doesn't matter what we do-- play ball, take a stroller ride, run around the front yard, or push one of his walking toys-- as long as he's outdoors, he's happy.

It's like being with a celebrity.

2011-02-07T06:43:00.000-08:00

Going out in public with a baby, I'm convinced, is like going out with Oprah or Brad Pitt. People are constantly stopping me to comment on Camden's shirt/hat/hair/face (seriously, one lady at Starbucks told me he had the "greatest face" she had ever seen. Wow!). Today, Mom, Camden and I were at Starbucks (yes, I do spend a lot of time there, if you hadn't figured that out already) and I was stopped by 4 different people the minute we walked in the door.

"Aww, look at him!"

"A little Redskins fan!"

"What's his name?"

"How old is he?"

I practically answer on auto-pilot now. The attention doesn't bother me. I appreciate that everyone thinks I have a cute kid. Cleary, I agree.

BUT in addition to being cute, Camden is also very shy. For a long time, I chalked up his hesitation around new people to stranger anxiety (and I'm sure that's part of it) but I've come to realize that this is also simply his personality. He's a shy, slow-to-warm-up kid. Rumor has it that his mom was the same way.

Around people, Camden typically behaves in one of three ways:

He loves you, and will give you a big toothy grin and shower you with attention OR
He tolerates you, and might stare at you with curiosity or just kind of ignore you altogether OR
He avoids you like the plague. And if you try to approach him, he clings to me and cries.

The latter behavior mostly applies to strangers. Even well-meaning ones like the friendly people in Starbucks.

So, not surprisingly, Camden detests the attention that's showered on him when we're out in public. And it puts me in an awkward situation when I'm trying to acknowledge compliments and be polite but I'm also trying to respect my son's needs. Lately, I'll say a quick word of thanks while Camden clings to me tightly and then I'll walk away to redirect his attention elsewhere.

I came across this article about toddlers with the Shy Personality Type and one line in particular made me laugh and nod my head in recognition & agreement:

"By age 9 months, many easy babies will smile at strangers, but shy kids will frown & cling...they will also study, with intensity, how a game is played before jumping in. Their motto is: 'When in doubt, don't!'"

While Camden is spirited and adventurous around the house (running everywhere, climbing up the outside of the stairs, yelling, laughing, & making his Mommy worry that he might grow up to be a Stunt Man), the second we set foot in our weekly Story Time session, he sits in my lap and observes or stands against the wall and watches the teacher with shy eyes. It's like a totally different kid than my Wild Man who runs throughout the house all day.

I guess if he was an actual celebrity, Camden would be the kind that wears big, dark shades and oversized hats pulled down low over his face so that he's not recognizable to the paparazzi.

It's tough work being a cute kid.

The Perfect Gap

2011-02-03T07:43:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, it was almost 70 degrees here on the second day of February. Camden and I were quick to take advantage of the brief reprieve from the cold weather and headed out to the neighborhood playground for the better part of the afternoon. I pushed Camden on the swing while making small talk with a father there with his two small children.

"How old are your children?" I asked him while Camden squealed and pointed out each passing car.

"3 years old and 18 months. They're a year and a half apart," he answered.

"Wow," I said simply.

"Yeah," he replied. "I don't recommend having kids that close in age. It's tough."

An older lady who was standing close by playing with her 2-and-a-half year old grandchild chimed in. "Even 2 years is not enough space! My daughter has her 6 month old son at home and she needs me to take this one a few times a week so she can have a break," she said while gesturing to the little girl next to her.

Now, I only take unsolicited advice with a grain of salt. But I have to admit that this conversation got me wondering: is there an ideal age gap between children?

Camden is 14 months old now. A toddler. I'd be lying if I said the conversation about a sibling for him hadn't come up a time or two in our house. I'm not ready yet, but we have been thinking quite a bit about timing lately.

Only, for us, there are obviously some special circumstances involved in our planning. We're not like the average couple that can say "let's do this!", have a glass of wine, jump in the bed, and stand beaming down at two pink lines on a home pregnancy test a couple of weeks later.

Instead, we have to think about things like will we try on our own? If so, for how long? Will we consider fertility treatments again? What kind of treatments? And for how long?

So, even if we were given an elusive formula to calculate the magical, perfect age gap between siblings, there's certainly no guarantee we could get the timing right anyway. It might take us 2 months to get pregnant. It might take us 2 years.

It's a lot to think about, but not in a negative way. It's still exciting. And so I ask you this: in your experience, is there a Perfect Gap? Or is it simply one of those things that depends on the temperament(s) of your child(ren), your parenting style, your financial stability, and just your overall personal preferences? Please advise, so I can take my official findings back to the playground soon.

I have a fantastic husband.

2011-02-01T06:11:00.000-08:00

When it first became clear that it was taking us longer than the average couple to get pregnant, I instantly panicked. I jumped right on Dr. Google and started to come up with all kinds of scenarios about what was wrong with us (kind of ironic, though, that endometriosis never crossed my mind back then). Matt took a much different approach. He was disappointed each month when it wasn't THE month for us, but would always say, "Well, we'll just time things a little better next month. I think we're getting close." At the time, his optimism and calmness was frustrating to me. I wanted him to jump on the Panic Bandwagon so we could get some help. But now, looking back, I know his approach was what I needed at the time-- a rational, calming presence to even out my over-the-top hysteria.

Obviously we did eventually get pregnant (a miracle that I still thank God for regularly). However, being pregnant opened up an entirely different can of worms in my Crazy Kitchen. First, there was a valid reason for concern-- my hCG levels were not rising properly. From the moment I found out that the rise was considered "less than ideal", I threw in the towel and felt defeated. I sulked. And sobbed. I just KNEW the pregnancy was ectopic. Matt, on the other hand, took an entirely different approach. When he read the email from our RE that said that my pregnancy "might still be normal" but it was less likely with the strange rise in hCG levels, Matt focused only on the might still be normal. For me, it was like those words didn't even exist in the email. For Matt, those words were all he saw. The optimism, yet again.

But it's not just his optimism that I admire. It's the fact that he doesn't quit anything, even when things get tough. He frequently reminds me to focus on the "bigger picture" instead of the here and now.

Silly as it might sound, I am in awe of the way he has handled sleep training. Camden had a particularly rough night a few nights ago, where he was awake and crying off and on for 2 hours. Matt stepped out of Camden's room in frustration, after his many attempts to comfort him resulted only in Camden shoving his face out of the way each time. Camden was angry. Matt was starting to feel defeated. I was disappointed, but resigned myself to the fact that this was likely the end of sleep training. "Just go get him & bring him to our bed," I told Matt.

But after a 5 minute breather, Matt headed back into Camden's room & started soothing him in his most patient, loving voice. And you know what? Camden calmed down and eventually went back to sleep. And each night since then has been better & better-- that's all a credit to Matt's optimism ("He'll get this") and persistence.

Matt initially worried that Camden would be mad at him for being the sleep trainer. Each morning, he'd ask Camden semi-jokingly, "Do you still like me?" The funny thing is, Camden seems even MORE attached to his daddy now. He runs to him with outstretched arms when he gets home from work. And he loves to sit on the couch with Matt while they read books together. It's like he wants to tell Matt "I know I'm not always easy to handle in the middle of the night, but thanks for sticking this out with me."

So thanks, Matt, for being a fantastic husband & an even better father.

I'll have some boobie, please.

2011-01-30T10:51:00.000-08:00

I haven't nursed Camden in almost 2 weeks. At all. I mentioned a while back that I had night-weaned him, but I was still nursing him once in the late afternoon. Honestly, I was clinging to that feeding more for my sake than for his. I was feeling very sentimental about no longer nursing. Then one afternoon, we were busy and just skipped nursing altogether. Same thing the next day. And before I knew it, it was over. We settled into a new routine that didn't include nursing.

Camden handled it well. It didn't seem like he even thought about it anymore. Then came today.

I stepped out of the shower to see Camden staring at me. Staring, hard. His eyes were glued to my chest and he had a thoughtful expression on his face. I knew what was happening-- he was having a Nursing Flashback. I got dressed quickly and as I was putting on my makeup, Camden started whining. I kneeled down next to him and said, "What's wrong, buddy? What can I get you?"

He got a huge grin on his face and pointed, through my shirt, to my chest.

(No, I didn't allow him to partake in the Boobie Bar. He got over it quickly. Thank goodness for busy toddlers who are easily distracted.)