Our Appointment at Children's Hospital

I wish I had the energy to write about this more in depth. I think soon I'll get there, and I will. 

I feel like the process we've gone through since Hartley turned 2 is so foreign to people that I try to write using detail so it's a little more clear. 

I guess I'll just come out and say it though with out a lengthy detailed build up. Today a developmental pediatrician at Children's Hospital confirmed what I've suspected for a while now - Hartley is on the autism spectrum. 

When the doctor said it, I cried. I felt like I had stayed so solid and strong throughout our appointment that I was so pissed at myself when I felt that warm water start to roll down my cheek. I felt so dumb. I wasn't shocked so I didn't know why I was crying.

I immediately blurted out, "I'm so sorry. I don't mean to cry. I'm not sad; I'm just really tired."

The doctor, who was absolutely fabulous, chimed right in, "No, you're allowed to cry. It's upsetting to hear, and it's a lot to take in. And it's taken you a long time to get here." 

She had Brian hand me a box of tissues, and in that moment I felt better. I've beat myself up so much this whole process for not being stronger, for not being better. And in that moment to be told it was okay to cry just felt like such relief. Finally someone wasn't saying "it could be worse" or "I'm sure it'll be okay" or telling me how their child does weird shit, too. A specialist at a widely-respected hospital said, "your daughter has autism, and it's okay to cry about it". 

I dried my tears and listened to her elaborate and tell us a little plan of action. I was so blown away by how great this doctor was. She gave us great feedback, tangible advice, and offered to be there for our questions. She also said she wants to see Hartley again in 5/6 months; she wants to track her progress closely. 

The doctor said some things we already knew including that autism nowadays doesn't look at all like what it used to be. Years ago before the definition changed to being a spectrum people envisioned people with autism as sitting rocking in a corner muttering to themselves, completely checked out. Hartley is actually extremely bright - which this doctor confirmed - but she sometimes just lives a bit inside of herself. And with early intervention, the doctor seemed confident (as are we) that this can be lessened or corrected. 

Hartley is inflexible, sensitive, independent and sometimes aloof. However, she is also silly, happy, creative, talented, intelligent, sweet, caring, spirited and beautiful. She certainly is quirky and different but still absolutely perfect. 

Social skills don't come as naturally to Hartley as they do to the rest of the world. And it's hard for me as her mother to watch her struggle with certain things that children her age don't have to struggle with. Yes, it could be far worse, but it's still not fair. She doesn't deserve extra challenges. 

I still have plenty of goals, hopes and dreams for my daughter. The sky is her limit but I do know things will be more challenging, and she likely will face some adversity. I know her timetable for her development, at least for now, will be different. We certainly will always be trying our very best but I've resolved to accept that some things will come in a little more slowly for us. That's okay; the world would be a snooze if everyone were the same.

I'm constantly trying not to worry about her future. I'm always reminding myself to just enjoy now, and I'm still working on that. Who knows, that's probably always going to be my work in progress. 

Lastly, I would like to end by saying I'm not looking to a label to define my daughter. Honestly, there actually was a tiny bit of relief hearing a doctor give her a clinical diagnosis because its made so many things over the past few years of my life make sense. So many things that were challenging about Hartley as an infant and now as a toddler are a little more explained. For some reason, that helps me. It helps me to know that my mother's intuition wasn't wrong. It oddly comforts me to know that I knew things were different first, long before I ever blogged them. However, with all of that said, my child is not a label. She certainly can't be put in a box. She's truly the most unique child I've ever known so seriously watch out, world :) 

Patrick Update

After writing several blogs in a row about the things we're currently going through with Hartley, I felt like I should come on here and talk about the good, everyday stuff going on with the kids. It's been very helpful for me to turn this blog as a healthy outlet as I navigate what is uncharted territory for me. 

Before I start talking about the babes, I did want to come on here and say that I'm sorry that my last post wasn't very optimistic. I'll be honest, I think, in general, I have a pretty positive outlook on life. I also know that in the grand scheme of things, I am very blessed and lucky. I have a hard-working, helpful husband, two healthy kids and a roof over our heads. I know there are families out there going through much tougher things, and we're lucky that our biggest qualms are fretting over when our child's early intervention will start. I wrote my blog on a day where everything came to a head; I was extremely frustrated and had no where else to turn to with that other then my safe writing place. 

I would also like to clarify that I haven't completely lost faith. Also, I think that my daughter is intelligent, gorgeous, sweet, creative and very talented. All of these reports I've referenced will never highlight that so I will state that. She is absolutely wonderful and perfect - her brain just works a little differently than most. It's really as simple as that. 

Also, last little sidebar, so many people have reached out to me privately (and publicly on Facebook, too), and from the very bottom of my heart, thank you all. I think many people shy away from talking about things like this thinking there's some kind of stigma. There shouldn't be, so I appreciate when people are awesome enough to have talked so openly about this with me and extend their kind words and support. A huge shout out to a few girls I went to school with ages ago who work in various school systems who've offered help and support. You ladies have truly found your life's calling and should be very proud of what you do. 

All of those things said, I'd like to update on the kiddos a little. Let's start with Patrick first since that poor guy hasn't had a blog entry in a while! 

Patrick continues to be a very big baby. I keep wondering when he'll slow down. Brian actually told me if he continues on his current trajectory that he will be taller than me when he turns 10 years old, so that's a little scary!! At 13 months old he wears size 6 diapers and either 2T or 3T clothing. I trimmed his bangs a little bit ago but he's already due for another trim. And he has at least 10 teeth. His size, hair and teeth always make strangers assume he's older than he is, which kills me. The irony is that he's still very baby-like. He still has plenty of baby rolls and loves to snuggle. When I feed him a bottle he just melts right into my arms. 

He loves getting kisses and tickles. He's starting to love books. He just graduated from the "I'm not going to let you turn that pages and read to me because I want to eat the book" stage. He loves touch and feel books. He really loves to pet the soft textures. Which has carried over to petting Winnie and petting the animals at the petting zoo! 

He isn't walking yet but he speed crawls, cruises and stands without holding on to things. His big physical milestone that happened shortly after his first birthday - he can climb the stairs! His gross motor skills have come in later than Hartley's (she was an early walker), but I think he actually beat her to the punch on climbing stairs. Though I could be totally wrong - mom brain! 

He says "Mama" and "Dada" completely purposefully. Both of my children say mama a conservative minimum of 50 times a day each. It's crazy. We've also heard him say "bye" and "hi" but definitely not consistently yet. He claps. He loves to bounce and is starting to dance. He has started biting when he gets jealous. It sometimes happens on accident but he's bitten me if I'm holding Hartley and not him. 

He eats an insane amount of food. People have joked about what our grocery bill will look like when's a teen but I swear, it's already starting. We've literally discussed buying a second fridge because we seem to be running out to the store every 2-3 days to load up on milk, fruit and eggs. Unfortunately he doesn't always get what's food and what's not so he truly tries to eat everything. We never had this issue with Hartley so I'm learning what a tough trait this is. He's eaten crayons, marker tips and dog food. He'll lick and gnaw on chalk. It's hard because Hartley loves to use her art supplies and Winnie needs her food on the ground. So he's a bit of a terror when it comes to getting in the girls' way! 

He's still a pretty happy baby but you can see that he's turning into a toddler mood-wise. I think he's been frustrated lately because he still isn't walking so he's kind of climbing the walls a little. He literally climbed on top of the kids' little white table the other day, and you can see he's starting to test his limits. This stage is a little tough honestly but it's inevitable so we'll just embrace the craziness that it is. 

I'll haphazardly throw his favorite foods on here. He likes all food pretty much but his very favorite things are blueberries, strawberries, bananas and veggie straws. He eats pizza, lasagna, chicken nuggets, hotdogs, Mac n cheese, all fruits, green beans, broccoli, yogurt, cheese, cereal, waffles, most dishes or casseroles I make (ego stroke). 

He just started swimming lessons last week. He went with Brian (during that time I take Hartley to ballet). Brian said he did well! No tears. He was a little unsure at first but he warmed up toward the end. 

His current favorite toys are a little sports center baby toy my sister got him for his birthday. He likes to use it to shoot hoops. He's already very interested in sports; he loves watching the older boys play ball at the park. He loves his little people toys - specifically his barn and camper. He loves the trucks he got for his birthday. He pushes them around. And he loves to play peak a boo in this ridiculous box fort I slapped together for the kids. He also loves to make music with his maracas and likes to drum on things.

Okay, this was all a lot to write and honestly, I thought this would be a fun thing to do while I'm not feeling well but it turns out it's making my headache worse! Damn screen - oops! So I will update on Hartley soon but at least the world knows what's up with Patrick. Poor guy is often so easy-going that he doesn't always end up on the blog! But he's doing great and has had a wonderful summer. Maybe the next time I do a Patty post I'll be able to write about first steps! 

Eligible.

Today Hartley was found eligible to receive special education services from Fairfax County Public Schools. They said she has developmental delays in two areas: language and social emotional development. This was no shock to us as last Friday we read her report, and it was not good. In fact, her report hit Brian and I both very hard; it was upsetting and made us wonder if things were worse than we had been thinking. The percentiles they had assigned her were in the lowest quartile, and they had written she had characteristics that indicated she was "very likely" on the autism spectrum. 

The day we received her report, we both cried. It was probably the hardest day to date. Honestly, Hartley's development has stalled out lately and this was that proverbial cherry on top. Brian decided we couldn't just sit around so we took the kids out to dinner at the Cheesecake Factory and then to the playground. For once, it wasn't oppressively hot; it was almost fall-like. I stopped thinking about all the negative crap I'd read hours before, and I got excited for the pumpkin patch. Hartley has actually been carrying around a hand soap that I had bought that's in a pumpkin shaped bottle, and I've been I thinking how picking an actual pumpkin will blow her mind. 

On the playground, she chased other kids. She doesn't entirely know how to engage them so she often tags along behind them. I always wonder if other parent's think it's weird but to me, it's so sweet how hard she's trying. That particular evening she actually stopped in front of another girl, she put her hand on her own chest, and said, "I Hartley!" I was so proud because I knew she was engaging the little girl to play. The girl was there with her big sister so she didn't take much interest in Hartley but luckily, Hartley never minds much when kids don't reciprocate. 

That night I went to bed so exhausted, overwhelmed and sad but I told myself tomorrow I wouldn't wallow. We'd move forward doing our very best, like always. 

We went to the beach, and Hartley had a blast. The first time I carried her out onto the sand she wrapped her sweet little girl arms so tight around my neck and the weight of her little body sank right onto mine. I could smell her shampoo scent lingering in her hair from the bath I gave her the night before. It was the very best hug. And she said clear as a bell, "I happy." She didn't say it the rest of the trip but her smiles and laughter said it all. It felt so good to see that. There's something very difficult about not being able to help your child progress like their peers. Honestly, you feel helpless and heartbroken. You feel like you're failing - even though you're definitely not. The reality is I probably do more for Hartley than most moms do for their kids. You might not know that because she talks funny or sometimes seems spacey or aloof. But on the beach when we left behind percentiles or delays or ASD markers, I felt like the best mom ever because my girl was so happy. That was so refreshing for my soul. 

As we drive home yesterday, reality crept back in. I went to bed anxious about today's meeting. I knew she'd be eligible but the thought if sitting in a room while strangers talked more about Hartley's shortcomings was just so unappealing. It's truly amazing we've made it through as many of these things as we have because you want to know my honest opinion? They fucking suck. At her ITC review last week I learned she's only met 1 of her 6 goals over the last 6 months. Yeah, that's super fun to hear. 

Today's meeting was awful. The ladies had no problem disclosing that Hartley is delayed and that's she's eligible. But god help you if you ask them to shed any light on the plan of action. Nope, that's another meeting for another day. Procedures, blah, no one wants to get sued. I find something so aggravating about these people repeatedly referring to this process as "complex". I guess I'm a stickler for teachers using words properly. This process isn't complex. It's actually very simple, though it varies based on the child. The word they are actually searching for is "inefficient". They take something that is already very stressful for a family, and they draw it out. I'm sure this has something to do with money or politics, probably both. But they condescendingly say to parents, "I'm sorry, we know this process is really complex." And the parent sits across the table thinking, no, I get the process, you've just made it more lengthy and inefficient than it needs to be and therefore, more stressful. 

One woman today, Sally, really got me. Brian met her last time and talked about how he really didn't like her. He said Hartley didn't like her either. I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt - until she interrupted me today. I was talking about my concerns. They had just asked if I had any questions, so I was voicing mine. Then she interrupted me and made a crappy meeting even crappier. 

I was saying this:

I initially was very skeptical about having Hartley in special Ed preschool; I didn't think she would grow in that environment. But as time has passed and I've seen how she struggles in activities with typically developing peers (ballet) and then how she flourished in a special Ed setting at Pathways, I think it's actually a good place for her. I never ever in a million years would think I'd want my child in a special Ed setting but if I'm honest, I don't feel like community preschool is the right fit yet. Hartley requires special attention and extra patience. She has certain difficulties that kids her age just don't have, and I don't want her to go to school, have these difficulties ignored and have people think she's a behavior problem or dumb. She's not. 

As I voiced this in the meeting, Sally apologized for interrupting me as I spoke. She told me how Hartley probably won't benefit from being around a group of children that aren't using much language as it is. She said Hartley would be better off around typically developing children. 

She's a professional, I'm not. But in that moment, I felt crushed. I felt like we'd been thinking this special Ed preschool was the answer; it was going to make the difference. And here I am, no community preschool lined up for fall, though I still don't know if she could hack it there anyway. And I'm being told that putting my slowly developing child around other slowly developing children is just not going to do anything. In that moment, I started losing faith in this system and these people. They are obsessed with their procedures and their business day limits, and they have forgotten the human aspects of this. I bet Sally doesn't even know that I've cried into my pillow wondering what my daughter's future will be like. Because surely if she had, she would've listened to me. 

So later today, maybe I'll be raising a glass to Sally and this situation. But right now, I'm raising a middle finger to her and the horse she rode in on. And to FCPS, because we're not getting started on the right foot. I've yet to see the wow factor here. But I'm hoping and praying it comes later. 

I'm sorry I have no way of concluding on a high note. I have no way of putting a beautiful spin on this. At the end of the day, I'll enjoy my daughter regardless of where she falls in relation to her peers.

Assessment

After an hour and a half of a social worker asking me what seemed like a thousand questions, I looked over at my coffee tumbler. So depressingly close to empty. It was a coffee tumbler my mom got me as part of my birthday gift this year; it's covered in red and pink hearts. Ever since having Hartley, I look at all things with hearts a different way. They remind me of my beautiful, sassy little blue-eyed blonde girl. 

Hartley had rejoined the room. She had been in another room with Brian, a psychologist and a speech therapist. They were assessing her - an assessment that will be used to determine if she's eligible to attend special ed preschool in the fall. I hated that I wasn't in the room for her assessment but someone had to answer ever single question about Hartley and who better than myself. 

I wanted to pick the brains of the people who assessed Hartley though. I wanted to have been there so I could ask a laundry list of questions. 

As the social worker was about to give us permission to leave, I chimed in. I told her we were supposed to have a parent conference so we could learn a little about what they thought. She told me she could send the psychologist in to speak with me. 

The psychologist was a very nice lady with a calming aura about her. Hartley had warned up to her quickly. 

She sat across from me at the table and told me lots of information, well articulated and very detailed. 

I'm going to rattle off what she said. She said Hartley's play skills are delayed. She only interacted with the people in the room if she needed help opening something. As far as Hartley's language skills - Hartley uses the very bare minimum amount of language needed to express herself. She discovered that Hartley uses the word "stuck" instead of saying "please help me". (something we have always thought of as very cute actually). She didn't attempt to engage anyone to play. Her ability to respond to her name wasn't as consistent as it should be for a child her age. She said other 2.5 year olds don't respond to their names 100 percent of the time but Hartley did less than a typically developing child. Hartley's eye contact was fleeting. Hartley spun. Hartley wasn't easily redirected; apparently most children her age are more easily adaptable. They noticed Hartley was echolailic. 

Now, I know this all sounds negative but she wasn't bashing on Hartley. She was describing to us what Hartley was doing and how it "measured up". She did also mention to us that Hartley seemed very bright and showed no difficulty in learning things. She said Hartley actually picked up how new things worked very quickly. 

Brian said as far as how Hartley performed at her assessment, that it was very true to how she is at home. They did not catch her on a bad day or anything. I made sure to ask him this because I wasn't there to see. 

The psychologist said she'd already explained it to Brian but she'd explain it to me so I could understand: Hartley is developing "atypically" as opposed to "delayed". The example we talked about is how Patrick at 12 months can hold eye contact or engage during peekaboo better than Hartley can. This doesn't mean Hartley is functioning at below a 12 month old level but rather, she's developing in a different or "atypical" way. 

Then she said out loud what has been on my mind for probably about a year now:

"Has anyone talked to you about the possibility of Autism?"

That is a moment I can't quite erase. While my world didn't exactly come crashing down and it certainly wasn't out of left field, someone finally said it out loud. 

"No one has but it's been on my radar for some time." 

This wasn't a lie. I was fully aware that things she was doing were signs, and I began to truly wonder at her second birthday. When people would say to me, "don't worry, she'll catch up", I'd feel a little knot in my stomach. I knew they all meant well, and I couldn't tell them but my true worry was this wasn't something Hartley would "catch up" from. 

The psychologist elaborated. She told me that they don't diagnose Autism Spectrum Disorder but Hartley showed characteristics that indicated it. She said they had "significant concern" (I chose to remember the exact words) with Hartley's development. She said if Hartley doesn't qualify for special Ed under the label "developmental delay" (though we have no reason to believe she won't), she could qualify under the Autism label. She said Hartley would "greatly benefit from intervention" though it was not her decision alone to make. 

In that moment, I realized it was time to follow up with Children's Hospital, who my regular pedi had referred me to. They never called me to schedule like they were supposed to and I left it go because I thought maybe they'd say nothing was wrong at her assessment. I realized this isn't some thought I can keep brushing off because it makes me a little uncomfortable. 

We left the building, and if it were legal I would've just curled up in a ball with Hartley in her car seat. In that moment I just wanted to wrap myself around her to somehow feel like I was shielding her from everything unpleasant. 

Brian described their time to me in the car. He really described it as being a good day for Hartley. She seemed to mainly enjoy herself and she performed well.

His mood soured as we got home. I asked him if he wanted to talk but he snapped at me that he was just hungry. He said maybe she doesn't have ASD. And who knows, that's still a possibility, I guess. 

The remainder of the day I felt kind of crappy. No I wasn't crying all day or feeling a sense of impending doom, but I was sad. I thought a lot about Hartley's future. I thought about how, even now, kids notice that she's different, and how that might get worse in the future. I thought about how it killed me that I couldn't protect her from everything, and I couldn't fix this for her. I thought about all of my big picture dreams for her, and how come hell or high water, I'm going to get her there. 

At the end of the night my mind was spent. My heart was hurting. I decided to take some NyQuil, and be a more positive me in the morning. 

On Friday, we woke to a new day and a new perspective. I ordered a book online so I can learn and grow myself. The kids and I headed to a new park with some new friends we met though MOMS club. And I watched Hartley play very happily. I felt so much better. 

I have zero definite answers but my mentality is to savor every day. She's such a blessing, and I love her so much. We'll have great days, good days and bad days - and we'll get wherever we're destined to be. 

I was hesitant to come online and share this. I think soon my writing therapy with switch over to a journal format. I know it's a little selfish of me to come on here because it's Hartley's life and story, and not mine. But I do plan on getting up on my soapbox from time to time. I do plan on preaching acceptance to the world. 

As my beautiful Hartley would say:

SEE YA SOON! CHEERS!

Hartley Crane Graduates

Today I woke up a few minutes before 6, throat scratchy, nose sniffly. The past couple weeks here have been marked by everyone sneezing and having runny noses. My body has managed to continue to fight it off pretty well. I'll feel it starting to conquer me but I get a decent sleep and wake up okay. 

Today my throat - and body - just needed a nice tall cup of coffee. Before the kids were up I sipped my coffee and thought about how big today was. 

It's funny, I'm sure a lot of parents of typically developing children don't even know what the Infant and Toddler Connection even is. And for me, Hartley "graduating" from it is the first graduation she'll ever have. 

The Infant Toddler Connection is an organization through the county that provides aide (i.e. Speech/occupational/physical therapy) at low or no cost to families with children in need. I learned of this organization back in February when both of my children were referred to it by their pediatrician. 

Patrick was assessed, and because of some tricky rounding, he qualified. We were given the option for him to receive physical therapy services; however, we were told that his gross motor skills were delayed purely due to his very large size (at this time he was literally 100th percentile). We were told he would still develop all of his gross motor skills (so no need to worry) but it was going to take him longer because he had an extraordinary amount of weight to support unlike his little baby peers. We decided to go for it because we were already doing it with Hartley so why not, right?

Hartley presented more worrisome delays than Patrick. I believe it was something like more than 20 percent (maybe 25?) delays in 6 areas of her development. She was eligible for services, and it was much more of a no brainer. At that time, she was freshly 2, and something encouraging we heard a lot was that at that point, there's a very wide spectrum of what is "normal". 

They wrote up an assessment of where she was. Then they wrote up a plan for her with a list of goals, some short term, some more long term. In all honestly, I'm not sure how many goals she's met. I know she's drastically improved on responding to her name. It certainly isn't 100 percent, but back in February it was pretty damn close to zero percent. She is improving with making choices. She has greatly improved in answering yes or no questions. None of this is 100 percent of the time but it's much, much better than it was. However, as she develops her peers do too so we're not exactly sure where she falls now.

That's where tomorrow comes into play. Some experts - a speech therapist and a psychologist - will assess her and tell us their thoughts. This will also determine if she is eligible to receive special Ed services. 

The Infant Toddler Connection is an absolutely incredible organization; I can't say enough good things. It's a group of people who have found their lives' calling by working with these munchkins who just need some extra help. They are so incredibly sensitive, supportive, and professional. And as a mother whose children have needed some extra help, I'm so grateful for these people and this service. And Go, Fairfax County, for what you do! 

Now at 36 months/3 years old, if children still are in need of extra help, they transition from ITC to Fairfax County Public Schools. FCPS is responsible for ensuring these preschoolers get what they need before they are old enough for kindergarten. Pretty cool, right? 

Well, that's where we are tomorrow: Hartley is being assessed to determine her eligibility to attend this preschool. She basically qualifies if she shows to have 25% or greater deficency in 2 or more areas of development. Now, as her mom, I'm not 100 percent certain she'll qualify, mainly because I'm so proud of the huge strides that have been made in 6 months. But I am also aware that my child is developing differently than her typically developing peers. 

However, I digress. I gave you all of that back ground for a reason, I promise! It's really to explain what ITC is because today Hartley graduates from ITC. I'm surprised she's graduating honestly. But I think our little team is fairly confident that Hartley will be transitioning over to FCPS. She was invited to Pathways to prepare for this transition. 

So today my baby graduated ITC, and while many parents probably see that on Facebook and say "WTF are people celebrating now?" Because I realize that some people think we, as a society, over celebrate with things like participation trophies and all that jazz. BUT the group of kids we celebrated today do deserve this "extra" celebration. They are children and parents working really hard before school even starts. And quite frankly, these are children that can only gain from an extra day of celebrating them; they truly deserve the confidence boost!! 

My daughter is 2.5 years old, and I'm very proud of the fact that she already has two certificates with her name on them. We survived ballet, and she truly has rocked ITC! 

The ceremony was held at a park in Fairfax. It was hot and sweaty but very fun. They really tailored the event to the little graduates. Hartley loved playing at the park and munching on goldfish and mini cupcakes. She was shy about getting her certificate but Brian carried his little princess up to get it and there were no tears. Unless you count a couple proud mom tears. 

Congrats, Hartley Glenn! You are so special, quirky, smart, funny & beautiful. I know this will be the first of many graduation ceremonies - and we will be cheering for you at every single one!

A week of Hartley-centric things

I just posted an ode to Patrick as he turns one. Believe it or not that was my second attempt at writing a birthday post I liked. I wrote two, not being wonderfully impressed with either so I decided not to post until I wrote a better one. Then I realized it just wasn't going to be like the way I wrote Hartley's baby updates. 

I realize that my blog often chronicles more of Hartley than Patrick. Maybe it's taboo and I shouldn't say it but she's my more complicated child. I don't mean that in a better or worse type of way. Patrick has just been easy. He's a chill baby that doesn't mind me scrapping whatever's in the bottom of my purse and handing it to him in the checkout line as a toy. Seriously, you can say anything to that kid, and he laughs and smiles. In some ways it makes him hard to write about. How many times can I say my baby boy is jovial, easy-going and very, very large? I'd write down all of his likes but he likes pretty much everything. It's kind of crazy. 

And like I said, it's not for better or worse, but Hartley is my child who keeps me on my toes. She keeps me constantly learning and constantly growing. And she had me well versed in "how to keep an infant alive and relatively happy" before Patrick even joined our family. 

I write this from my bathtub. Yes, I'm a weirdo who write blogs in her tub. Quite frankly, it's double therapy for me and I recommend to all moms out there :) 

I've entered this week a little nervous. I push my feelings deep, deep down inside though. The reason being is my job is keep our little family going. I try to stay cool and calm for my kids.

The other day we were outside and a snake that was close to 3 feet long came slithering out. It was big and scary. And I was outside with my kids and my goddaughters, and I just calmly hustled everyone to come back in the front yard to play. I herded them like cattle to get them back to the bubbles and chalk on our front driveway. Honestly, I was freaking out on the inside. Later, Brian told me how cool I was about it, even though he knows snakes scare the shit out of me. But I had to be cool. I didn't want the kids to be scared. I wanted them to feel fine and safe.

I can actually give myself a mom pat on the back because even though it's early in motherhood, I'm actually really good at this. It means holding in tears and letting my stress get the best of me starting at 8:01 pm when everyone is tucked in their little cribs, but it's the best thing for them, I know. 

As we start this week we have all Hartley things on the docket: speech therapy, ITC graduation (crazy, I know, but they are pretty certain she's going to move over to preschool), her assessments, and parent conference. And by the end of the week, we're going to have a clearer picture of what's going on. That as a whole brings me peace but it also does bring a hair of anxiety. 

Lately I've started to notice her playmates noticing she's a little different, a little quirky. That's been kind of hard to watch. I'm certainly not putting examples on here but I've told her little peers things like "Hartley's shy" or "Hartley's just being silly". The way she talks is different so it's very normal that kids notice that. 

I've been "reassured" that Hartley should be found eligible for special Ed preschool. I get how that sentence sounds funny to some. Maybe you're thinking, "why would you want your child to be in special Ed?" It's an inexplicable feeling that when I saw my child in her pathways setting, I felt it was the appropriate setting for her. I want Hartley to be thoroughly and properly evaluated though so we can make sure she is in the exact right setting for her to grow and flourish. The label of this setting is not my concern. 

At the end of Pathways, I felt Hartley had blossomed a lot. Her language and focus improved. And over the past few weeks, she loves "playing with friends". I love hearing her talk about "friends". She spouts off kids names in her Hartley way. She says the name in a tone that denotes to me that it's a question. And I know that's Hartley's way of asking if she can see that friend. It's been amazing to see her interact with other kids and really enjoy it. This is very recent for her (like a month ago she really didn't seem to care much about being around other children). 

Hartley also really enjoyed school. So Brian and I discussed how whether or not she's found eligible, we'll try to get her into some sort of preschool. That fact that she asks us for "preschool?" is thrilling to us. We want to encourage that love for school, and we're both ecstatic that it seems there already!! 

Anyway, I'm probably going to blog this week again. The truth is, this outlet seems like the healthiest way. A few weeks ago I avoided retreating to my blog for fear of being negative - then I binged ate Chinese food and drank a bottle of wine. I'm fairly certain prattling off my nonsense on here is the better option ;)

Patrick turns 1! (6 days ago)

I'll never forget the cold December day that I lugged Hartley in her footie pajamas to Target. I had been feeling an overwhelming exhaustion for days; it was an exhaustion I'd only experienced once before. Though it was cold, I felt a little sweaty and my stomach kept turning. I knew I couldn't be pregnant. But it was December 5th, and my last period was in October. If I were "normal", I would've been two weeks late. 

I usually text Brian the most mundane updates throughout my day but I couldn't share with him that i'd just placed a few bottles of wine alongside a pregnancy test on the checkout conveyer belt. I knew he'd tell me I was ridiculous and had essentially set a ten dollar bill on fire. 

But what did it hurt? Like I said, I'd only felt this way once before, and it didn't hurt to rule it out. 

I got home. I plopped my not quite 10 month old baby in her highchair. I busied her with a pile of puffs and retreated to the powder room.

I laughed at myself a little as I peeled the foil off. I'm so stupid. This is so stupid. It's impossible. 

But sure enough, as soon as I used the test, a half second after the control line popped up - the test line unmistakably filled in pink.

I couldn't even process what had just happened. I'm quite sure I said, "What the?!?!" out loud. 

I called Brian, and I gave him the shock of his life. He kept tripping over his words, alternating asking me "what?" and "how?" 

I often look back on how Patrick came to be and think about how he was the thing in this world that I never knew how much I needed until he got here. God knew. It's hokie but I truly believe he had a plan for us. Patrick was so meant to be a part of our family. He was so meant to be on this earth. He is a wonderful miracle. How lucky we are to have TWO miracle babies. 

I always worried how I would juggle two young children. And truth be told, I sometimes suck at it, and I struggle. It's actually very hard to try to divide my attention evenly and feel like I'm doing all I can for both of them all the time. 

I worried how I would be as a boy mom. If you know me you know I couldn't give two shits about sports. I know, sacrilege, right? But I just don't. So I worried if it meant that I'd have nothing in common with Patrick. Spoiler alert: it definitely didn't. I've actually surprised myself with how excited I am to learn about dinosaurs and trucks with him - and I guess maybe even some sports stuff, too ;) 

But when Patrick entered this world, I actually felt it. That instantaneous love they tell you about. I honestly didn't feel that right away with Hartley. But Patrick, the very first time I held him was one of the most euphoric and wonderful moments of my life. 

He has been such a joyful, sweet baby. His disposition is absolutely amazing. He's easy going and happy. He loves to laugh, be silly and explore. He adores and looks up to Hartley, even though she bosses him around something fierce. 

He's bright; you can always see the wheels turning. He's ridiculously strong. I'm talking you have to have some serious skills and muscles to wrangle that child. He's sweet. When he can stop moving for a few seconds, he's quick to cuddle. He's a social guy; he loves people, especially other babies. 

His perfect red hair and giant baby body get all sorts of compliments from strangers. 

I often feel bad because I don't come on here and chronicle his babyhood the same as I did with Hartley. I kind of wish I did but the truth is, whenever I do have time to myself, I'm usually too pooped to prattle off about what toys or books he's loving. I feel lucky that I've gotten to live everyday of it with him though. I've gotten to be there for all of it; I just haven't written it down. Hopefully he'll forgive me of that. 

Patrick Frank, 

You are the most perfect little boy, far better than I could've ever imagined. I hope you keep your amazing attitude and sweet personality always. With it, I know you will go very far and do amazing things. I love you so much, and I thank God for bringing you into my life. You will always be my very best surprise. 

Editor's note: I wrote this on his birthday but I didn't love it so I postponed posting hoping my writing vibes would get better. They didn't. And we've since been to the dr and learned a Patrick stat to include. He's 30 lbs, 5 ounces - bigger than Hartley. He is 99.97 percentile for both height and weight. Brian's NBA dreams are still alive ;)