Thursday, January 8, 2015

The Course of True Love

Now that the mess of Christmas is behind us (or still on the kitchen table *cough*Hubs*cough*), we are working hard to get the house and the kids on a normal schedule again. 
Christmas Morning!
Both boys were spoiled rotten for Christmas - even though Vegas was not having anything to do with opening presents. His first gift was a stuffed tiger chair, and the shock of unwrapping his gift and seeing the tiger staring back at him was too much for him. Any time after that when someone would bring him a gift, he went running!
Nope. NOPE. Don't wanna touch this.
By the time Christmas Day ended both boys were in full on meltdowns and ready for bed. Luckily my in-laws live super close so bed was a quick drive away. Never underestimate the peace that comes of a daily schedule. Change is bad, change is bad!

Christmas Night!
Ignore my terrible posture, I was slightly distracted by the screams.
Also, yes, Little Man had an outfit change.
No it wasn't planned.
(Oh also, I got a haircut!)
After Christmas and New Years and a million events and parties, Hubs had to go back to work and I went back to house-management. We all have clean clothes again and the kitchen is a lot less crunchy when you walk. And my ear is constantly warm from being on the phone 24/7 with all of these doctors/therapists/VIPs.

Little Man's therapy schedule was the first big item on the agenda. He's still doing once a week home therapy, a full day at school, and every other week he has behavioral therapy. He finally bounced back from the plague that hit the house around Thanksgiving, and we're hoping that will help get him back on track with his other long term goals too. During the school day he is wearing cotton splints on his hands for certain activities to help him remember to keep his hands by his side (instead of on his ears). This is (understandably) very annoying for him and makes him very angry, so it's definitely not something we want to have to have him do forever.  He also discovered over vacation that because he'd been so good about not taking off his diaper at night, we'd stopped taping his waist and ankles. He has lost all the progress he made on the diaper department, and we are back to nightly duct tape. Unfortunately, he's taken to getting into it during the day too - hence the Christmas outfit change - and even been doing it at school. Ugh. 
Everyone is looking slightly to the left because that's where the Target photographer held the iPhone.
Can't win em all.
Merry Christmas.

Our other big news is that Vegas met with Infants and Toddlers over winter break and is now going to have his very own IFSP. We contacted them because he still has no words and doesn't really babble much. He went to his big test yesterday at Little Man's school, and passed... or I guess failed?... with flying colors. Speech therapy it is! He is at 7 months expressive language and 12 months receptive language, which means he has the 25% delay in development that qualifies him for therapy from the county. Other than his speech delay, he is on track everywhere else - I definitely have my hands full with this smart and curious little guy. But I have no problems with him being in speech therapy, and I'm not worried or freaking out about it (much). I know having a non-verbal sibling and being home with only me most of the time probably contributes to his delay, and so I think this will be very helpful. I'm not looking forward to squeezing in another therapist to the schedule, but we'll make it work. We've been down the Infants and Toddlers road before, and I have a lot of faith in the program and in early intervention. 
Vegas' First Day at Hogwarts.
Er... I mean preschool testing!

So don't take it personally if I seem frazzled in the next few months. It's because I am. Two kids in therapy, two shows at our local community theater, running a household, and possibly taking up a new 'job'. It's all going to be a caffeine-fueled blur. If you are one of those people that likes to help - I graciously accept k-cups and Mountain Dew.

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