To post, or not to post...is it even a question?

Here we are again, NaBlPoMo.

Already.

I have hardly posted this year...I don't know why, I suppose because I haven't felt it for a while. And, here we are, November 1, 2008: the big question I've been asking myself is 'do I post or not'. And, truly, I'm not sure I've got an answer for myself.

So, in honor of my indecisiveness, I'm posting on 11-1-08, because, let's face it, if I decide to 'toss my hat into the ring' and I don't post this AM, well, it's all for naught.

Today the Peanut and I are headed up to OHSU for our LAST (Hallelujah! Can I get an 'Amen'?) appointment. We've been taking part in the Prosody of Language study for what seems like forever, and frankly, although it is good on many different levels to do it, I'm tired of dedicating all day every Saturday to it. I'm very much looking forward to having Saturdays for fun stuff again, even if 'fun' stuff only means a trip to Costco to spend entirely too much money and reinforce my shopping-for-groceries-once-a-month habit. Ahh, Costco...so much to look forward to.

Welcome aboard to a new year of (possible) posting insanity. Do you have your ticket to ride?

....Tastes like chicken....

This is funny no matter who you are going to vote for. Enjoy.

Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road?

SARAH PALIN: Before it got to the other side, I shot the chicken, cleaned and dressed it, and had chicken burgers for lunch.

BARACK OBAMA: The chicken crossed the road because it was time for a change! The chicken wanted change!

JOHN MC CAIN: My friends that chicken crossed the road because he recognized the need to engage in cooperation and dialogue with all the chickens on the other side of the road.

HILLARY CLINTON: When I was First Lady, I personally helped that little chicken to cross the road. This experience makes me uniquely qualified to ensure right from Day One that every chicken in this country gets the chance it deserves to cross the road. But then, this really isn’t about me.

GEORGE W. BUSH: We don’t really care why the chicken crossed the road. We just want to know if the chicken is on our side of the road, or not. The chicken is either against us, or for us. There is no middle ground here.

DICK CHENEY: Where’s my gun?

COLIN POWELL: Now to the left of the screen, you can clearly see the satellite image of the chicken crossing the road.

BILL CLINTON: I did not cross the road with that chicken. What is your definition of chicken?

AL GORE: I invented the chicken.

JOHN KERRY: Although I voted to let the chicken cross the road, I am now against it! It was the wrong road to cross, and I was misled about the chicken’s intentions. I am not for it now and will remain against it.

AL SHARPTON: Why are all the chickens white? We need some black chickens.

DR. PHIL: The problem we have here is that this chicken doesn’t realize that he must first deal with the problem on this side of the road before it goes after the problem on the other side of the road. What we need to do is help him realize how stupid he’s acting by not taking on his current problems before adding new problems.

OPRAH: Well, I understand that the chicken is having problems, which is why he wants to cross this road so bad. So instead of having the chicken learn from his mistakes and take falls, which is a part of life, I’m going to give this chicken a car so that he can just drive across the road and not live his life like the rest of the chickens.

ANDERSON COOPER, CNN: We have reason to believe there is a chicken, but we have not yet been allowed access to the other side of the road.

NANCY GRACE: That chicken crossed the road because he’s guilty! You can see it in his eyes and the way he walks.

PAT BUCHANAN: To steal the job of a decent, hardworking American.

MARTHA STEWART: No one called me to warn me which way that chicken was going. I had a standing order at the Farmer’s Market to sell my eggs when the price dropped to a certain level. No little bird gave me any insider information.

DR SEUSS: Did the chicken cross the road? Did he cross it with a toad? Yes, the chicken crossed the road, but why it crossed I’ve not been told.

ERNEST HEMINGWAY: To die in the rain, alone.

GRANDPA: In my day we didn’t ask why the chicken crossed the road. Somebody told us the chicken crossed the road, and that was good enough.

BARBARA WALTERS: Isn’t that interesting? In a few moments, we will be listening to the chicken tell, for the first time, the heart-warming story of how it experienced a serious case of molting, and went on to accomplish its lifelong dream of crossing the road.

ARISTOTLE: It is the nature of chickens to cross the road.

JOHN LENNON: Imagine all the chickens in the world crossing roads together, in peace.

BILL GATES: I have just released eChicken 2008, which will not only cross roads, but will lay eggs, file your important documents, and balance your checkbook. Internet Explorer is an integral part of eChicken 2008. This new platform is much more stable and will never crash or need to be rebooted.

ALBERT EINSTEIN: Did the chicken really cross the road, or did the road move beneath the chicken?

COLONEL SANDERS: Did I miss one?

Yes, this is from an email going around (written by ??), and yes I pirated images, however, I seek no financial gain, only to make you laugh.

This little piece of satire is particularly funny and strangely poignant. Please be sure to vote!

Saturday in the Waiting Room

Saturday is typically a day of fun, errands, marathon house cleaning, or what-have-you; it is a day that I typically choose what it is I want to do, with whom, and where. Not so nowadays--or at leas the entire month of October.



Sigh.



At this very moment, I am sitting in a small 12x12 waiting room up at OHSU's Beaverton Campus. Prior to these appointments, I had no idea OHSU even had a 'west' campus. The things one learns and how.



Why, you ask, am I up here in a waiting room on a Saturday, or all days? Well I can sum it up in one word: Peanut.

Yep. We're here in order for Peanut to be a guinea pig of sorts for a research study. Yes, we are contributing to the greater good of society by participating in a research study. But, before you fill yourself with warm and fuzzy thoughts about me or my progeny, I (and my girl) am not as altruistic as this scenario may sound.

See, we're taking part in this research study on the prosody of language for two reasons: 1. for the betterment of mankind, and, 2. (the real reason) so that I can have copies of the numerous and exhorbitantly priced testing that they do as a part of the study which I could not afford on my own.

And. on that note, and with a whining little brother who wants to comandeer my laptop in the name of DVDdom, I must sign off. More to come...maybe.

Dear Kauaiian Diary

NOTE: I will be editing, spell checking, and filling in names, photos, and other details later on. :O) As for now, here's my personal notes to remember our visit.

Stay tuned...

Kaui Vacation 2008

Friday June 20:
Good flight from P. to Honolulu; probably the smoothest take-off and landing that I’ve ever experienced. Both kids were excellent on the plane ride. Chubber got a little grumy toward the end of the first 5 hour leg, but B. took him up and down the aisle a few times and it seemed to help a lot. The short, 30 minute, flight from Honolulu to Lihue was also very smooth, in spite of the fact that we were on a very small aircraft.
Rented a Chevrolet Impala SS (B’s choice), and was amazed that the trunk comfortably accomodated all of our luggage (1 large suitcase, 1 small suitcase, 1 wheeled carry on case, 2 backpacks, 1 large dive bag, 1 computer briefcase, 1 DVD carrying case, and a partridge in a pear tree).
Drove through the 'Tunnel of Trees'--a naturally formed tunnel made by gigantic trees that arch over the road--to Poipu (Po'ipu) to get to our lodgings. Found our condominium with minimal trouble (we got lost once). It is a beautiful condo with 2 bedrooms, small living room, dining area, kitchen, 2 bathrooms and laundry closet. From the front balcony porch and master bedroom we have stunning views of the ocean and the mountains. There is no a/c, however with the windows open the ‘trade winds’ blow a strongly enough that it keeps us cool and comfortable.
After settling in, we went to the pool and swam for an hour or so. The kids had a blast, and we had fun too. Interestingly enough we were talking to a man who was at the pool, and through our conversation we discovered that he lives in Ocala, FL and was born in Williston. What a small world! I explained to him that Aunt J lives in Williston, and that S comes from a town called Wacahoota (sp?) and whatnot. The man’s name was L. C., and after we left the pool and called Dad and S, we were able to discover that Mr. C did in fact know S’s family. Again, what are the odds of running into someone from such a small part of the world that we have ties with? I think the chances of winning the Lottery is more likely.
Had dinner at a place called ‘Breneke’s’ that B loved from his first time to Kaui. Nice little open air restaurant, rather spendy, but as we’re discovering: everything in Kaui is expensive.
After dinner walked over to Breneke beach, where as the Kids and I were walking to the playground we discovered a toad hopping in the grass. Kai and Lani both loved seeing him hope along, and I had a tough time keeping them from touching it (I figured it was poisonous like the frogs/toads in Florida). After a short 10 minutes or so at the play structure, we walked over to the surf to watch the sun go down. As we were walking along B and Chub came upon the tiniest of sand crabs—no bigger than a quarter’s diamater. We all had a pleasant walk, barefoot, in the surf and sand.
What a lovely first day in Kaui.

Saturday, June 21:
Woke up at 3am sharp. Wide awake and ready to start my day. Too bad we needed to sleep another 3 hours to make getting up decent. The kids suffered from jet-lag, too. Had a tough time getting them to go back down to bed (including a poop-on-the-floor incident (yuck!)), but eventually they conceeded to play quietly in their room.

Enjoyed a lovely sunrise from the front porch, followed by coffee and breakfast outside, too. Before the kids got up as I was going inside for a refill of my coffee I noticed something little on the carpet. I thought it was a dead, dried-out lizard, but when I got down close to look at it, it was a tiny little gecko! B was so surprised, as he’d never seen on so little before. Me, being who I am, told B to grab a cup from the kitchen so we could scoop the little thing up and show it to the kids. Both kids loved seeing the tiny creature. We let them each hold it in their hand. Even in the kids’ hands it looked tiny—it was about a ½ centimeter wide and maybe an inch and a half long. We’re having so much fun with all the wildlife here in the islands, an enjoying seeing the kids’ sense of wonder and their joy in the simplest of things. I imagine when they are asked what their favorite part about Hawaii was they’ll no doubt say: “the chickens, the baby gecko, and the frog!”
Started the morning searching for the elusive Foodmart that Mr. C told us about (best food prices in the vicinity). En route took a detour down a road to see a waterfall [find name of waterfall from photos taken]. While viewing the waterfall, saw an ancient Hawaiian [prayer sacrifice alter place]. The kids weren’t impressed with

either feature, but sure did have a blast chasing the wild chickens and their chicks. Tried to see { } arborateum, but the road into the actual facility was flooded, and was impassible in a car—though did see a few trucks ‘ford’ the road. The scenery was absolutely amazing. As we climbed up the road and into the lower mountains you could physically detect a change in climate: it changed from beachy type conditions into bonified jungle—humid, close, and about 10 degrees cooler. I am at a loss for words to actually do any justice to describing the lush vegetation. My photographs will have to do the talking.
Finally got round to Foodland. It was similar in prices to the Safeway or Roth’s stores on the mainland. Expensive, but in comparison to some of the closer local shops (Foodland was in W-I [check town name from map North of Lihue]. The local food shops listed a gallon of milk at over $8, whereas Foodland had it for $5. I picked up a ‘club card’ to get the ‘local’ prices. We left $103 lighter in the pocketbook, but I believe we have enough food for breakfast, lunch, and most dinners to eat at home. The cost of eating out is so expensive as to be prohibitive.

It is now 3:20pm, and we have finished our simple lunch of sandwiches, chips, grapes, and water. Well, all of us except Chubbers. Mr. Andersen has been asserting his “two-ness” to the Nth degree for the past week. As soon as he decides to eat ONE single grape, we will be off to Poipu beach. That is how I have time to write right now, Chub is being stubborn, and I’m taking advantage of the down-time. I do hope he decides to eat soon. I really want to go play at the beach!
Finally won. Chublet ate not only one, but two grapes! Went swimming at Brenneke beach. Came home, ate bbq burgers, rice and had chocolate ice cream. Went for a walk over to the Kaui Poipu Grand Hyatt. BEAUTIFUL grounds. Spent 2+ hours. Saw little girls do hula show.

Sunday June 22:
Going to try out church in HI. Interesting service, very contemporary and the kids loved going to the nursery.
Waimea Canyon—see pictures. Picnic in Waimea canyon (PS: don't you just love that guy's butt? Yeah. Me too. Makes it look so classy).

Went to Kaui Coffee Company tour, very cool. Learned a lot about coffee, including that 60% of the WORLD’S coffee comes from Kaui Coffee. Then went to the Salt Pond park, outside of Hanapepe. A lot of fun, full of locals. Big fat undertow, but nobody got swept out to sea.
Came back into town and had dinner at Poipu Beach Broiler—great food, expensive price. For two ‘bar menu’ dinners, one kids meal, an orange juice, and two Mai Tais (plus tip) we were out $50. OUCH!
Then a relaxing evening at home, as we were all bushed.

Monday June 23:
A relaxing day. Visited Kilohana (meaning: unsurpassed) Plantation. In its heyday it was the most expensive and extravagant home in all of Kauai. It was built in the 1930’s by sugar tycoon George Wilcox for his wife, who wanted a house as fancy as any that could be found in Hollywood. In its day 40,000 acres of sugarcane was planted and harvested by the 12 hour work day. Today, the estate is still run by family members but is only a fraction of that. They no longer harvest sugar cane (interesting fact about sugar cane: it takes one whole 6’ tall cane to produce only one tablespoon of sugar), but instead harvest fruits and plants for botanical spa products. We chose to tour the plantation via plantation train. Chub and Peanut loved it! It was a fun way to see a smidgen of what plantation life looked like ‘back in the day.’ To this day, some people who work on the plantation still live in the original plantation ‘shacks’ (small homes) that were used by the original workers.
Inside of Kilohana there is one room (living room) restored to its former lavish glory, with the remainder of the interior open to the public to enjoy: an expensive restaurant called Gaylord’s (think $25+ per plate), and various artisan shops selling Kauai made products.
After visiting Kilohana, we tried to find the Alakoko Menehune Fish Pond. Call us lame or crazy, we found a beautiful lookout point, but no success in actually finding the swimming area of the pond. So, we went, instead, to Nawiliwili Beach to play in the ocean and dig in the sand. It never ceases to amaze me just how content the children can be to simply dig in the sand. They can dig for 45 minutes or more without stopping. Our trip to the beach ended when mother nature decided it was time to water the vegetation (rain). But, that was OK since the kiddies were getting tired, us too.
After a morning at the beach and a nice nap for the kiddies we went to the condo’s pool to splash and play. It was absolutely delicious: the air was warm and humid and the pool was cool and refreshing. Sometimes it is just perfect to hang around ‘home.’




Tuesday June 24:
Went into Lihue to do some shopping. No visit to Hawaii, at least for our family, is complete without a trip to Hilo Hattie’s to get ripped off buying a Hawaii shirt. We spent about an hour or so looking around, and managed to find goodies to take home to family and friends as well as ‘outfits’ for each of us (at 40% discount, whoo hoo!) to wear for our evening’s festivities—a Luau!
Headed out to Wailua around 4pm to go to the requisite Luau. How can you possibly come to Hawaii and not go to a Luau? You can’t. So, we chose to check out the Smith Family Garden Luau. Interesting fact: by booking though ‘Activity Warehouse’ we saved about $130 on our Luau over booking through Smith’s itself. Weird, huh?
Smith’s Luau? Yes, Smith. I don’t suppose you could get any more English of a name if you tried, but we gave it a shot anyway. The grounds boast 30 acres of lush tropical gardens, ranging from local Hawaiian plant varieties to Japanese and Philippino. The gardens were spectacular, in a word. Once we were admitted to the grounds we hopped onto a little tram (think tractor pulling wagons with seats) to take us through the gardens with a narration of the plants. It was cool, because we got to learn a lot about different plant varieties, and I got to finally get a name to put to the most interesting plant that I find everywhere here: spider lilly. The kids loved the tram ride, well, because it was a ride and because they got to throw heaping handfulls of birdseed to the myriad of chickens and peacocks. Yep, peacocks. B’s favorite bird—we weren’t terribly impressed with the royal turkeys because of our old neighbor having them and us constantly finding them on our back porch, driveway, roof…. But, the kids sure got a kick out of them. We also were treated since it is mating season, the males had all their plumes fanned out to impress.
The dinner was good. We were seated next to a friendly single-mom family from California whom we talked to at length. She told us some of the tidbits about Kauai that she found helpful and was, in general, a lovely dinner companion. The food was good, although not as good as other Luau’s that we’ve been to (I rated it about a 6 out of 10 in comparaison to the Polynesian Cultural Center’s –-a 10+). There was macaroni salad, cucumber salad, green salad, sweet-n-sour mahi-mahi, Kahlua pig, bbq chicken, fried rice, mashed potatoes, mixed steamed veggies, and, of course, Poi. (blech! If you’ve never had it, think eating purple Elmer’s glue). Following this spread was a fruit/dessert table: mangoes, pineapple (all that Chubb would eat—nothing else), coconut milk jello, coconut white cake, and Peanut’s favorite: rice pudding. We also got to partake in AYCE mai-tais, but after one, I was sufficiently sugared out and turned to coffee.
The dinner show/hula show was decent. There were dances from Japan, China, Philippines, Fiji, New Zealand, Samoa, and Hawaii. Our favorite dances had to be the Fiji men’s and women’s dancing (the fast grass-skirt hip shaking dances—Hawaii’s hula dances do NOT involve grass skirts, that’s from Fiji). But the bes of all was the Samoan Fire Knife Dancing. It is always the best.
Peanut and Chub did pretty good through dinner and the show. Though, by 1/3 of the way through the dancing show Peanut was begging to go home and go ‘night-night.’ Chubbers was absolutely rivited to the dancing the whole show.
Both little kiddies crashed on the way home from the Luau. What a lovely way to end our day.

Wednesday June 25:
Headed out to the beach again, just this time we went to Lydgate Park, just south of Wailua on the East Coast of Kauai. What a great park! It was just perfect for the kids, and B and I managed (with children in innertubes in tow) to get in some snorkeling, too! We saw all sorts of fish, some of the fish we saw were: Unicorn Fish, Needle Fish, Moorish Idol, Eye-Stripe Surgeonfish, Saddleback Wrasse, Yellowfin Goatfish, Bandtailed Goatfish, Ornate Butterfly Fish, Longnosed Butterfly fish, Convict Tang, Seargeant Major, Blue Crevalle among others! Chub cried most of the time we snorkeled, Peanut loved it! She got such a kick out of being the ‘helper’ to hold the rocks and shells we found.
While in the kiddie area Chub-chub was the master of finding little blue crabs (about the size of a mini-bagel). He has the most amazing little eyes! I would likely have never spotted them, but he sure found them easily. It was fun watching this tiny little boy crawling around the rocks and where the breakers hit standing so still, only to discover he had found marine life all on his own.
B has been obsessed with going to this hamburger joint called ‘Bubba Burgers,’ so after leaving Lydgate park we finally indulged his obsession and went to have lunch at the place that touts that “We cheat tourists, drunks, and attorneys” on its sign (pretty creative, if not honest!). The burgers, drinks, fries, onion rings, and a t-shirt (for B) came to $47.50. Ouch! The food was OK, but nothing to write home about. But, at least B’s itch has been scratched.
Then, a quick trip to Foodland for provisions, and back to home. We are just loving the beach and the laid-back atmosphere here. This white girl is getting less white (think: I don’t look like like the milky-bluish color of skim anymore), and Brent…well, another few days and he will be as dark as a local. The kids? I’ve been doing well by them with the SPF 50 (they have a tiny bit of a tan, and no burn!).

Fear of Flying....

Long time no post. Yeah, yeah, yeah. My bad. Actually, I've wanted (a little) to post, but overall with the end of the work-year and all the wrapping up activities I've just been too lazy/tired/busy to post (select your excuse).

But, alas, here I am. Posting on a Thursday night. Nothing particularly special about this Thursday, except that in less than 24 hours I will be 'cruising at an altitude of 30,000 feet'.

YIKES!

I hate flying. I don't know why, or how but I have an irrational fear of flying. Not quite a phobia, but not too far off. I just don't like it. I keep hoping that they will invent the Star Trek transporter--for real! I'd just love it. I'd gladly play triple fare to go on the instantaneous transporter. You want to go to Korea? Sure. Push the button **whoomp!** you're there. That's what I keep hoping for. In the meantime, I'm left with good ol' fashioned jet propelled transportation. It is kind of ironic that I'm afraid of flying: I suffer from wanderlust, and truly, the two just don't jibe. Sometime in my early twenties I just had one flight where I suddenly felt my mortality stronger than I had ever felt it, and so began my dislike of aircraft.

Every flight for about the first 20 minutes I sit ramrod straight in my uncomfortable little seat, white-knuckling the armrests and praying, fervently, "please don't let us die, please don't let us, die, oh sweet Jesus, please make sure all of us get safely to our destination without incident or trouble..." and it begins again. It is really quite embarrassing to be the only one in my entire row who is near hyperventilating, and who breaks out in slick little beads of sweat at the first jostle of air turbulence. Yeah. That's me. Then, after that initial 'take-off' and things get to 'cruising altitude' I'm fine. Well, that is until it is time for our 'final descent'. Then, I begin to tense up again, begin my 'breath prayers' and pretty much sit petrified in a state of utter terror until we stop moving on the tarmac and arrive at our gate.

Tomorrow, I get to experience this lovely scenario. With children. Small. Squirmy. ADHD. Two Years Old. Children.

Lord, Help me.

I'm off to Kauai until the end of the month.

Wish me luck. Say a prayer for me (that I don't freak out and that the kids are at the very least better behaved than I am). I'll see if I can post some pictures and tell you the tale of how I survived my first family trip to Hawaii.

Aloha.

5 years old...

Dear Peanut,

I can hardly believe it, you're 5 years old today. Five, as of 2:53pm.

We've already had quite a few adventures. I've learned so much from you, about you, and even more about me. I had no idea all those years ago just how drastically my life would change. The cliche is that once you have a baby 'normal' ceases to be. It is also said that it takes about a year to 'recover' from having a baby. Well, baby, I'm still recovering, and I know that my life will certainly never be the same.

On that glorious April day so long ago, you were forced into this big old world earlier than any of us imagined, nearly a month premature. The doctors watched my pregnancy with you as carefully as any other mommy-to-be's. Everything went just about as you would expect. I felt sick and miserable the first few months after you made your presence known. Then, life started to 'normalize' again, and I felt better. In fact, we were cruising along at quite a good clip. I got a new job, and your daddy and I moved to a strange new city, all alone, and looking forward to the adventure that was to be you.

Then, about 7 months into my pregnancy, the doctors spotted some abnormalities: you weren't growing. You were so tiny. I had to go on bed rest, and the doctor considered putting me into the hospital to rest, in order to keep you safe. It turned out you had a condition called 'intra-uterine growth restriction (retardation)'. It meant that for reasons unknown you just stopped growing the way you should. Because of this, the doctors decided that you could 'cook' inside of me no more: it was time for your eviction. Should you stay inside of me any longer, the chances of you surviving got smaller and smaller, and we'd hoped and prayed for you and wanted you so badly, that just couldn't be. So, your introduction to the world was scheduled: you would be born on April 28, 2003.

And so you were.

I labored to give birth to you for exactly 5 hours and 23 minutes. I pushed for a total of 10 minutes, and two pushes until you came out. You see, the doctor was worried about your little heart and all the stress that being born would put on you, so she told me that we were going to have to have you via cesarean delivery. I would have done anything to protect you, and the doctor knew it. I think she saw the silent tears slide down my cheeks, she saw I was so worried and scared for you, that she said to me, "you're going to have this baby right now. Now push!" And so I did, and so you were born.

You were such a tiny little thing! Only 5 pounds 12 ounces, but so long--19.5". You breathed right away and I heard your tiny little mewling cries, and I knew we'd be OK.

Your first days in this world were tough: You wouldn't eat, and you had jaundice so badly you were as yellow as a squash. You had to sleep under bilirubin lights (like a tanning bed!) to help your little body break down the excess iron in your system, and we had to measure what you ate in cc's (that was to be the way of it for the next few months, you so disliked eating!).

Your daddy and I drove you home, all by ourselves, and walked into our tiny little home thinking to ourselves, "oh my. What do we do now?" Life was pretty hard. We were all alone in a new city with nobody to help us and nobody to call to ask advice. Our introduction to being your new parents was a real trial by fire. It is by the grace of God alone that we made it.

Both your daddy and I were out of work by the time you were 2 months old, and so your daddy went to school to learn to drive commercial trucks. Soon, he was done with school, and headed out on his new career. It was hard for us, because your daddy was gone for as much as a month at a time, and it was just you and I; no family and few friends. It is a wonder to me, as I look back, how we ever made it at all. I suppose it was due to how stubborn you and your mommy are.

Time has gone at such an erratic pace over these years. We struggled with you every day. Your little body was so weak, and you were so tired all the time, you didn't make your 'milestones' when you should. I took you to a big city, an hour's drive away, to the physical therapist's office, to help you learn to roll over, sit, crawl, and eventually at 17 months of age, to walk. It was a long and emotional journey.

As a baby, you hardly made a sound, and you didn't much care to be held. I always thought it was because I did something wrong, or that you were rejecting me on some level. It left me with many 'hard' feelings. But, we learned why you acted this way much later on.

You didn't talk when you were 'supposed' to talk, so we took you to doctors and specialists to try and help you out. You didn't talk until you were about 3.5 years old! And, when you did talk it was only your mommy who could understand you.

It turned out the reason why you didn't talk, and why you didn't like to snuggle was because of a disorder you have. It is called PDD, and it is on the Autism Spectrum. Your doctors said because of this, you learned from the world in a different way, and you would interact in a different way. It doesn't mean your way is wrong or better than my way, it is what it is: just different. We work each and every day to make your world more understandable to you, and to understand you better, ourselves. It is a journey of a thousand steps, and we're only 5 steps into it.

We've come so far, together, you and I. Despite all your challenges, from birth-on, you've come through far better than anyone could have predicted. You laugh, and smile. You sing and dance. You love to go to gymnastics and swing on the bars, and bounce around in the 'cheese pit'. You're learning how to swim! (and to think, you used to scream and cry if any water so much as touched your head) Just last week, I watched you do 40 'dunks' under water, with nary a tear! You have your bad days (and boy are they bad) but, the older you get, the more your days seem to be good, really, really, good.

You are an amazing little girl, and you amaze me each and every day. Just when I feel like your challenges are insurmountable, you do some sort of little, ordinary, every-day miracle, and in that instant the sun begins to shine, and all the little challenges and struggles we face, melt away for that glorious little instant.

Happy birthday, my precious little miracle. You are my bestest girl; always.

Love,

Mama

Friday, bloody, Friday (or the day from Hell)

Where do I even begin? Well, for starters, if you've got a squeamish stomach, skip this one; if you're not into listening to drama, skip this one; if you're just not willing to listen to me whine and rant and rave, just skip this one and check back another day, like on one of the days where I post goofy pictures (like the peeps) or photos of slumbering, fuzzy kittens in the sun.

Warning: Today was a bad day.

Things were going 'swimmingly' up until about 11am. That's when my dear friend, who was watching the kidlets, calls me at work to let me know there's been an 'incident' with Peanut, but that she was ok. Whenever someone says there's been _______ "but such-and-such is OK" you know it is bad. What they're really hoping is that they can be responsible and let you know what happened, all the while silently praying 'Oh dear God, please don't let them freak out. Please don't let them freak out'. You know that prayer. The one you say when you're certain all of it (and then some) is going to 'hit the fan.' Yup. That one.

Well, after the phone call, it is pointless to say, I immediately left work, and headed out to get the Peanut and do damage control. En route I phoned the pediatrician's office, silently thanking God for the invention of cell phones and the affluence of my family to be able to afford one. The receptionist clicks onto the line: "Dr. K's office. Can you hold for a moment?" Uh, lemme think about this for a nanosecond: 'No, not really." And then I explained my situation. Thank goodness the receptionist was having a good day or had taken her happy pills or taken a huge hit of meth or whatever--she was so pleasant, and was willing and able to put up with my mild hysteria.

By the time I finished talking with the pediatrician's office I arrive at my friend's house: there's peanut, sitting on the couch with my friend's sweet husband, ice pack on her little head. She doesn't look any worse for the wear, but the truth is: My little monkey had been jumping on the bed (no, really) and she fell off and hit her head (we think it was on the foot board of the bed), mama (me) had already called the doctor and the doctor said: "tell me just exactly what she did to her head!". Poor little peanut had managed to get quite a gash on the back of the crown of her head, about one inch in length and I'm guessing 1/2 a centimeter (???) in depth--deep at any rate. It had mostly stopped bleeding by the time I got there, and amazingly enough she wasn't in any pain and wasn't complaining.

Whew!

My poor dear friend, on the other hand, was a wreck. She was so upset, and worried over Peanut getting hurt, and worried about how I'd react (normal reaction, I'd be the same way). I felt so bad for her because she was so upset she was in tears, and even though I wasn't (and still am not) mad at her, nor do I find she did anything wrong, I couldn't reassure her that I understood, and that it was just a freak kid accident--it could have just as easily happened at my home as at hers, or with any other kid. I do hope that she feels better tomorrow.

At any rate, I decided yes, Peanut did need stitches, so off my friend, my Peanut, and I went to: The Emergency Room. (duh, duh, duh). There we sat. And sat. And we sat some more. We sat, with a bleeding four-year-old child in the waiting room for the upwards of almost 2 hours before they took us back.

I guess the old saying is true: you could, technically, bleed to death while waiting to be called back into the emergency room. Huh. Who knew?

After a short visit with the E.R. doctor and a nurse, they decided we needed to suture up her head, as my friend and I figured, and that they were going to use staples.

What?

We went to the E.R. for the purpose of letting my girl be sedated a bit for her stitches because we didn't think she'd be able to handle it 'the old fashioned way' (given that on the 7th of this month it took 3 adults to restrain her for a single blood draw--that is a story unto itself). Well, the sage doctor decided we'd try the staples first, and if that didn't' work, then we'd do sedation. At this point in time I was like "whatever will work. Let's just get this over and done with." All the while, Peanut has been an excellent patient--no whining, crying, or acting up (that was her mother who was doing that!!).

So, there we were, in the E.R., Peanut on my lap, my legs wrapped about her waist, holding her in a 'bear hug' while the gentleman nurse (a fantastic human being, I might add) held her head steady and the doctor stapled her scalp shut.

Ca-chunk, ca-chunk, ca-chunk, ca-chunk, and one final ca-chunk.

And it was done. Nearly 3 1/2 hours after we arrived, and $100 lighter in the wallet later, the girl was sutured up and we were on our way.

And to think, we could have had the same results, at the Pediatrician's office, and been in and out in less than 30 minutes. GARG!

Then, back home again. Peanut was feeling frisky and fine (the child was doing somersaults on the couch (getting blood everywhere-eew!) and had to be told to calm down and relax, so her sutures wouldn't be disturbed), and mommy's blood pressure was through the roof. Not the way I'd wanted to spend the afternoon.

At least my little girl was 'good as new' and feeling fine. That was the most important thing.

After both children were fed, and the boy put to bed, I headed out to run the last of the birthday errands I had left. Originally, I'd planned to do all of the errands and 'to-dos' this afternoon, but the trip to the E.R. disrupted that train of thinking, so it had to wait until after dinner.

I wound up taking care of all of my errands, with a little insult added at the gas pumps ($20 for 5.45gal. of gasoline! ***#$@@@$*$*$* insert expletive), only to walk back into the house, ready to frost the cupcakes for Peanut's party tomorrow, to discover my darling husband had only bought one can of chocolate frosting--to decorate 54 cupcakes in 'rainbow' colors. So much for being prepared the day before the party.

Needless to say, my evening ended on a truly aggravating note. But, the silver lining to this cloud is that the Peanut is OK, she's feeling good, she's going to be five, and has five staples in her head, someday this is going to make a great story to retell; and, hopefully my little monkey has learned her lesson: 'no more monkey jumping on the bed!'