Quick Catch Up

LONG.overdue.UPDATE. 

{in pictures}.
we've been busy.
very.very. busy.

someone got glasses for being farsighted.
more equipment, but have to say,
pure {CUTE.ness}

he also got the new Cochlear N5s!

Check 'em out! You can't even see them from the front anymore!

pure {EXCITEMENT}
(more to come in a separate post)

someone else got a nice fresh hair cut.

because her school had a bout of lice, and unfortunately, so did she.

{EW}

what a trooper she was.

what a wreck her momma was.

my first born turned SIXTEEN.

wow. it can't be possible that I'm the mother of a 16 year old.

{SIGH}

He also got his first job. at Wendy's.

and no, he doesn't have his driver's license and this momma

is in no hurry for him to get it.

in due time, right along with good grades and that one word - responsibility.

{smile}

then there was also the first dentist appointment.

Do you know how AMAZING it felt to sit back and let Aiden

answer all the questions the hygienist asked?

{MIRACLE} 

of cochlear implants.

Ryan and Kailyn have really stepped it up with their little bro.

they read to him.
play with him.
have conversations with him.
argue with him.

teach him.
more so than ever before.

pure{LOVE}

...just because

my boy's gross motor skills and motor planning skills

have skyrocketed.

he's not stumbling near as much anymore, but instead

jumping and running and leaping and everything else in between.

pure{BOY}

he loves to {LEARN}

asking questions ALL.the.time.

enough said.

We lost our kitty Bonz.

 we had him eight years,

he was a part of our family.

it's been difficult for all of us,

(especially his brother Baby)

and he is dearly missed.

{RIP} sweet Bonezee.

{tele}therapy: a mom's perspective

In today's busy, hustle bustle, gotta be here, gotta be there world, what is better than a mom's night-out?

At-home therapy appointments.

see Aiden and me on the screen?

Outside of changing Aiden's school this past March, we also changed his therapy program. We are still going full force with auditory verbal therapy, but in a little different way. Instead of driving nearly two hours to see our former av therapist, we decided to try out TELE-THERAPY, also known as, TELE-PRACTICE.

I want to start by saying that we love our AVT from the past two years. He will always be a huge part in Aiden's journey. The two hour drive to see him though was draining and the much needed consistency started to falter. Our therapy time was slipping. When you're traveling that far, with two older "activity busy" kids at home, AND gas prices are insane (right along with the insane copay), , AND by the time you get there your sensory seeking child is bouncing off the walls from being in the car for 2 hours AND you can barely get him to sit for another hour, much less listen and talk {WHEW}, it's time to make a change. So we did.

As I sought out options in our immediate area, I found our choices in certified auditory verbal therapists were far and few in between. I needed something close, something convenient for my WHOLE family, something that didn't stress me out each time I thought about it, and someone who was a right fit for Aiden. I wasn't finding it. There was ONE in our immediate area, who was new to the local CI center, and who already had a waiting list. And btw, I live in the suburbs of a major city in Ohio, imagine people with deaf children in rural areas. (to see how many certified AVTs in your area, go
HERE).

Then I met Todd Houston, PhD, CCC-SLP, LSLS Cert. AVT, and Associate Professor of Speech-Language Pathology at the University of Akron. After speaking with him about some of my concerns with Aiden, he introduced me to

{auditory verbal} tele-practice,

and we haven't looked back.

What is it?  

Simply put, tele-therapy, or tele-practice, is therapy via a secure internet connection from the comfort of your own home, therapist on one end, you and your child on the other through an online classroom. No major equipment is needed, outside of your computer, a webcam, and a microphone. HERE is an excellent {professional} article all about it.

mom's perspective: You don't leave your house. There are no extra gas prices, no extra hassles of packing everything up for a trip to therapy trying to make sure your child has a good lunch in them before hand AND some time to get their wiggles out before their therapy. Then finish up only to rush home for your other child to get off the bus or to take yet another child to lacrosse practice or rush to whatever "it" is, as a mom's schedule is never NOT busy.

What does a session encompass?
A few days prior to Aiden's session, I receive a very detailed lesson plan, along with other attachments created by the therapist to use in our session (bingo board, coloring page, game of some sort, etc). The lesson plan contains the different goals we're working on and an activity or two for each. Each week, as the goal stays the same (until met of course) the activities to meet that goal change. According to the lesson plan, I print off all attachments and gather all necessary materials (toys, items throughout the house, etc) needed to complete an activity. The lesson plan also contains ideas of what to say or ideas of items to use etc.

Once the therapy session starts, it's like your typical auditory verbal session, except I am the main therapist (which is what I do everyday, except now I get professional guidance, as I "perform", on how to teach my child to reach those goals). We start our session talking about Aiden's week, concerns, questions, etc then dive into the activities. Having all planned out lessons in front of me, allows me to let Aiden feel part of it all by giving him a couple activities to choose from. We complete an activity, get feedback from our therapist, then I provide Aiden two more activities from which to choose. The whole time he is engaged ... okay, most of the time he is engaged. It is a bit easier for him to stray and start talking about the dog messing with the cats, or the dump truck driving by. I actually find this beneficial, as it's conversational speech, and provides our AVT a good idea of where Aiden's spontaneous expressive speech is at. Plus, AV is all about language, so if I can get a good language lesson in on something he shows interest in, even better.

mom's perspective: I now have a binder full of planned out activities (and corresponding materials) for all his different goals and there is no more guess work when there is a lull in "what to do" in our daily at home "play" time. Oh, and the confidence gained from "being the therapist" for 60 full minutes, with true professional feedback on the other end, is pure awesomeness.

What are the benefits?

• You are wearing the therapist shoes. It's not just watching, then modeling, then taking home to do. It is all doing, which I have found is key in carrying the goals on throughout the week. This way, our AVT can see me in action for the whole session, provide tips and guidance, and then I feel that much more comfortable carrying it out everyday at home.
• The plethora of materials and activities at your fingertips is heaven! 
• You get to see how all your child's toys, and many other objects throughout your house, are EXCELLENT therapy tools and different ways to include them in daily language.
• A consistent up-to-date list of goals (which I know every parent should have at all times , but in all honesty, this doesn't happen). I can state his goals now better than I have ever been able to in the past. To me, (a little bit of a control freak), this is huge.
• Better yet, you have multiple activity ideas to go with each goal (or did I say this already?). 
• With a laptop, you can travel throughout the house (or throughout the US!). We've played grocery store (with real food from the kitchen and Aiden pushing around his shopping cart - LOVE it) in the playroom, cooked muffins in the kitchen, sat on the floor in the living room at my mom's house in WISCONSIN. It's versatile. It's changing yet consistent. It's innovative.
• TIME - I can't stress enough how much time this has saved me (along with gas!). 
• Aiden is in his natural element. He's more comfortable. In traditional therapy, he would clam up and never completely showed his true character. At home, Aiden is Aiden. He acts silly, he laughs, he jokes, and best of all, he talks and participates much, much more. 
• Other family members can join in OR I can show a recorded session to my husband at a later time so he can feel more a part of Aiden's therapy too.

mom's perspective: If you haven't figured it out yet, I LOVE IT.  And when your child enjoys it and is asking, "Tomorrow we see Dr. Todd and Kelly and Anne?", you know he loves it too ... and that's what is most important.

What are the downsides?

• Your printer ink costs increase (really I've only replaced one ink cartridge in three months). Although still A LOT cheaper than gas prices and crazy hospital copays.
• If you are the type of person who needs that face to face, touchy-feely type interactions, this may not be for you.
• It can get a little stressful on days other family (ahem, LOUD teenager) members are home or when Aiden is having an off day. What happens is I try to manage everything going on around me AND the session itself AND worry about getting in what we need to. Bottom line though, this is life. My stance this summer is going to be - if I can see you and hear you, you're joining in.

mom's perspective: there are downsides to everything, and if they outweigh the benefits, it's probably not worth going on with. You have to look at pros and cons for you and your family. Every child is different.

Aiden has honestly started to SOAR. I know there are a lot of factors that go into his recent explosion (change of school, more one-on-one time with mom, excellent OT services), but I do believe that the consistency of our weekly tele-practice sessions, have had a HUGE impact on it all. Not only from the consistency of a weekly therapy, and the consistency of having the activities to use on a day to day basis, but even more importantly - TIME .

Time is precious. The time saved from traveling to and from, is now time spent playing, talking, singing, interacting; it's time spent together. To me, this is priceless.

If you are interested in learning more about tele-therapy, you can contact Dr. Todd Houston at houston@uakron.edu. If you'd like more of a mom's perspective, feel free to contact me off line at aidensmom0317@gmail.com.

{FOUR}

just wanted to share something

I put together for Aiden

now that he's been FOUR

for a whole month now!

It's amazing how once they turn FOUR,

they immediately become BIG.

It was like over night that

he GREW UP.

where did the time go?

I can tell him to do things, 

like, "Go get your pajamas on."

and he does (well sometimes).

He's saying BIG {100%} BOY things like,

"ewwww! My foot farted!!"

then laughs his head off.

OR how about this:

as he comes running into the house,

laughing hysterically,

"MOM! I pull my pants and girls see my unnerwear on,

and girls say, heeheehahahaheehee, and I run!"

insert{FOUR year old grabbing stomach and belly (fake) laughing}

(and yes, he calls his underwear, "unnerwear on" just like he

always calls the toilet, "potty first")

oh and I can't get away without noting,

it was soon after he turned FOUR,

that Aiden first advocated for himself on the playground,

as a little boy stopped in his tracks and asked me,

"What are those things on his ears?"

and Aiden very proudly looked that boy in the eyes, smiled and said,

"Those my CIs!"

AND my four year old is now APPROACHING kids 

on the playground all by himself and saying things like,

"C'mon boys, lets go play!"

ok, this is HUGE. 

seriously. HUGE.

tears&smiles.

you go FOUR year old!

I asked him the other day if he was my baby,

and he said, very matter of fact,

"No mom, I'm daddy's boy."

and then wouldn't even come give me a hug.

{sigh}

Yes, he is100PERCENT little boy.

and I love every little

ounce of his oh so adorable,

silly beyond words,

BIG FOUR year old self.

and the one thing he can't take from me,

is that he will ALWAYS

be my baby.

New Beginnings

As we approach Aiden's third hearing birthday (and fourth birthday - WOW), I have to say that I never thought we'd be where we are today. I envisioned that all therapy would be behind us, except for check-ins here and there; that he'd be talking in full blown sentences, excited to tell me all about his day at school; that he'd be making up stories with details galore and talking so fast I have to tell him to slow down; that he'd be singing songs from front to finish as he danced around the living room. I envisioned he'd be at least caught up, if not beyond, his hearing peers, both receptively and expressively. To me, this wasn't a doubt. It's where we'd be.

But I was wrong. What I didn't envision is that he'd have social/pragmatic challenges; I didn't see us in weekly OT sessions for sensory processing and praxis challenges that not only effect many motor tasks, but things (that seem) as simple as multiple syllable words and sentence production; that we'd need a speech therapist on top of our AVT in order to close the gap on articulation challenges and to help him expressively speak, what he knows, more intelligibly. I never knew just how much work it is to talk and if all the "systems" aren't planning and working together, talking is one of the most difficult tasks even for a hearing child. I didn't envision awesome speech (and balance) on some days and pure mumble-jumble (speech and balance) on others.  I didn't envision hearing the words, "I'm just not sure what's going on. He's such a good listener, he gets it, he's a hard worker, and he's such a happy child, BUT SOMETHING'S MISSING." I certainly didn't envision that we'd possibly have another three years of therapy ahead of us. THREE MORE YEARS.

because I've been working my ass off. and it's SO frustrating.

What's crazy about all this though, is his hearing and listening skills are AMAZING! His technology is right on. He hears me as I yell for him from upstairs in the back bathroom and he's downstairs watching tv. He can repeat all his lings, each ear on it's own, from 10-12 feet away; he repeats all the phonemes pretty darn perfectly; he hears whispers, and well in noise. Receptively and cognitively - he's well ahead. He gets it.

I started writing this yesterday, as a "whoa-is-me-andmybaby" post. It's bittersweet hearing about other {amazing} kids implanted around the same time as {my also amazing} Aiden, speaking circles around him, graduated from therapy, and well caught up to their typical peers, all knowing we still have quite a road ahead. But, this is OUR JOURNEY; it is what it is, so we continue to move forward, and trust in our hearts he will get there (and he will).  Sometimes I feel I'm all over the board with Aiden. Like nothing's good enough for him. I promise you, it's not that. Yes, I am VERY particular when it comes to any of my kids and their education and success, but I believe every parent should be. But this is different. If it's not working or we're not seeing the support and fight needed to get him to where he needs to be, it's time to move on. We don't have time to "wait and see". Time is of essence at this stage and most importantly, I have to listen to my mommy gut. (and yes, I'm a bit of a control freak).

So we're making some changes.

and here's a glimpse at our new beginnings:

• changing his AV therapist - not because we don't love his therapist (we do), but logistically, on both sides, it wasn't working, and therefore lacked consistency. We will now have a WEEKLY session via the internet with a new AVT. There are so many positive and exciting things about this! More to come.
• changing his school - this sounds crazy, especially with his lack of language, but we're taking him out of his current oral deaf-ed program (which is 5 days a week all day) and placing him into a preschool which is 2 1/2 hours a day for four days a week. He will be the only deaf kid in his class. and it's a good thing. When I get him ready for the bus, he says, "NO mommy, new school!" He loves the new school and we've only visited twice. More to come.
• adding in a weekly (or possibly biweekly) speech therapy through our insurance - he had a wonderful speech therapist at his current school, but he was only allotted 15 minutes a day, 3-4x a week, and usually not one-on-one. I'm also working with his awesome SLP from his IFSP (before 3yo) days, to include her on his IEP to work with him one-on-one once a week, but also as a "push-in" in the classroom with him a couple days a week (in addition to a TOD). So far, the district is very open to requests and ready to work with us to meet Aiden's needs. More to come. 
• continue with our wonderful OT - there's so much I've learned from her about Aiden in the last eight months, and most importantly, Aiden is making HUGE strides. Six months ago, he couldn't stand on one balance bucket, now he can walk across six, WHILE TALKING! I tell her we get a free speech therapy session too when we see her. She's heaven sent and we still have quite the work ahead of us. 
• SOLID at home one-on-one sessions - with the change of school times, I will be able to dedicate myself to him alone. It was near impossible to work with Aiden at night. He didn't get home from school until 4pm, the same time R and K got home, then as I tried to help K with her homework, keep R on track doing his, getting dinner on the table, running to all their after school activities, bath, and bed, there was VERY little (if any) one on one time with Aiden, unless it was reading him his bedtime stories. Changing schools gives back our precious one on one therapy (aka playtime). and I think it's key to moving him forward.

We also have a neurology appt set up in May, just to see if there is something we're missing and hopefully get some answers. Maybe, just maybe, it will help us better understand his EVAS or if there's something else going on and possibly help in our plan going forward. I don't know, only hope.

Three years ago, there's no way I would've thought we'd still be here, with all these therapies, still trying to figure out why some days he speaks in clear 5-6 word sentences, but others we can barely understand a word he says. Why some days he jumps down the steps, but others he needs to hold my hand to get down. I can't waste my days worrying though, I have to keep my faith and know in my heart that he will be okay and that one day it will all come together - verbally, socially, physically. We will keep on keeping on. No regrets.

oh, and by the way, there's one other thing I envisioned almost four years ago - my child walking into a mainstream kindergarten, not feeling different, fitting in right along with all the kids -

and he will. 

bitter{SWEET}

My oldest son interviewed me for his Theology class. I was asked what seemed like three simple, yet were very thought provoking, questions. In a nutshell, I had to speak of a miracle that has impacted my life. I've been blessed, so far, and never had to confront a life saving accident, or a loved one surviving cancer who had a small chance of survival,  or being told I'd never get pregnant, etc-  miracles many speak of. If I am ever confronted with such a situation, I hope it becomes another miracle story I can tell.

My miracle though, has to do with hearing.

my deaf child. hearing.

I was brought back to tell our story from the beginning. I didn't have to get into a lot of detail, but how could I not, or at least how could I not let my mind go there. and as this brain of mine turned each corner, the eensiest memory would pop up, tiny-maybe, but for each of these I could tell you each and every small detail of the situation. These are a few of the small moments that God impacted my life in getting through the first days:

- like the day Aiden didn't pass the "come back to the hospital in two weeks and we'll try again because we're sure it's just fluid" test. and he didn't pass. again. we were sent home with yet another appointment. I went home a mess, feeling sorry for myself, crying, and wondering "why him!" At the time, it was one thing after the other in our life and I couldn't take much more. I was SO angry. I wanted to scream out, "do anything to me, but leave my child alone!" That same day, as I flipped through the newspaper, I came across the obituaries and the baby photo drew my eyes to read about Aidan. Born the same exact day as my Aiden, who didn't live past his first two weeks of life. and the tears that flowed were for  this baby, his mother, his family. I held my baby a bit tighter, longer, thankful he was in my arms.

-or holding him in this dark, little room as they tried one thing, and then another, and then yet another before the audiologist finally went and got another audiologist who tried each and every step all over again - all without saying a word. I can still see the screen, feel my deep breaths and heart pounding against my chest. and then the words,  "You're son has profound hearing loss ...". It was the longest ride home. That same day of receiving "the news", I had to go on with life and pick up some groceries. All I wanted to do was get home and drink a glass bottle of wine. I couldn't get home fast enough. Then I was stopped behind a bus. As I sat there frustrated, I watched how the bus driver got out and wheeled off a boy, about 10, all body parts strapped down. and I watched the mom come to meet him and stroke his hair then kiss him on the cheek. I remember this like it was yesterday.  yes, my son was deaf, but it was a big reminder, things aren't always greener. Again, I went home and held my baby a little tighter, a little longer.

- or the day I received an email from a coworker to let me know she was talking to a friend who got this website from a friend of a family member of a friend type situation. It was Landon's blog. and that same day, I found Toes, and Drew, and Christian. It was my turning point. It was then that I started realizing, enough blubbering, time to get busy. and from there, I found countless other stories, most of whom I have created wonderful friendships with. My CI/hoh mommas/daddies have had such a huge impact on this journey, and I can't imagine this journey without them.

- or the day I got a phone call and another situation of knowing a friend of a friend that knew of this professor at a local university that worked with deaf children. My first phone call to her was very informational as I tried to hold it all together, nervous what to say, as at that point I didn't know my head from my ass. She taught grad students at that point, not clients. But I called her back and in pure desperation said, "I need you to HELP ME teach my deaf child to hear and speak." she fit me in that Friday and every other Friday there after until we left Texas. she opened my world to this thing called "Auditory Verbal Therapy". {smile}.

- or the day I was researching CI surgeons and found the one I wanted to perform Aiden's surgery; unfortunately he was over 3,000 miles away. Aiden was three months and we had little intention on leaving Texas. His CI team was pretty much set. It was one of those let's put this on our "wouldn't this be amazing" list  ... and it was, because five months later my husband was offered a job out.of.the.blue 30 MILES from this surgeon's hospital. and when the CI coordinator called to let me know that out of the six surgeons there, we were assigned THE MAN (without any official requests), I bawled.

and of course I spoke of his surgery, his first (right ear) activation one week before his first birthday, his first word, how hard we've been working, how far he's come, how he'll always be deaf, his sweet voice, etc etc. Then we checked out Aiden's "One Year Hearing" video that Ryan is going to use as part of his presentation.

It was the little details remembered though, that kept sneaking in, making me tear up, and smile.

the small details that reminded me of what a MIRACLE this journey has been and how He guided me through many "I just want to stay in bed and cry" type days. how He showed me, in His own way, that things would be ok. He showed me how truly BLESSED I am at a time when my world was falling apart.

my deaf child hears. he speaks.

yes, my miracle.

We finished by talking about how some wouldn't consider it a miracle, but call it "science". and while I agree science is no doubt involved, I thank God for all the wonderful technology we have and even more so, for the inspirational, inquiring minds who research and study and seek ought that technology to someday FIND that "spark", that "something" they're looking for. For us, our miracle mind is Graeme Clark. I thank God for him and his amazingness all.the.time.

but sometimes you have to look past the "technology". and this interview made me realize all the little miracles this big miracle is made of. and sometimes it's the littlest things, that impact one the most.

Aiden was meant to hear and speak. We have been shown that, by Him, throughout our journey.

Matthew 11:15 - He who has ears, let him hear.

just saying ...

... most of the time it's fine. In fact, more than most of the time you

don't think twice about it. second nature like.

Get up in the morning, put on his cochlear implants,

just as you put on his clothes.

Talk to him, listen to him,

COMMUNICATE THROUGH SPOKEN LANGUAGE.

Therapy at the kitchen table becomes an everyday thing.

You call your husband excited about the discovery of a new word or sound,

and you cherish the moment together.

CIs are now a part of everyday life; a new normal.

as time goes on, you get past all "the looks and stares".

you THANK GOD ev-er-y.day for the miracle of CIs and

all the differences they've made in your child's life and

all the opportunities they've brought (and will continue to bring);

you THANK GOD ev-er-y.day for the fact that he can HEAR

and that when you talk to him, he comprehends,

even if he doesn't LISTEN to a word you're saying,

you know he HEARS you.

and when you confirm your initial thoughts, (and the equipment is just fine),

you chuckle, because he's no different than your two hearing kids,

in the fact that he TOTALLY has learned listening is a choice.

and you know it's the actual hearing part where the miracle began.

and mostly, there's this constant giddiness because of it all.

BUT, there are still THOSE moments,

MOMENTS, that may last a minute, sometimes an hour,

sometimes more than a few hours,

sometimes a whole freakin' day ...

WHERE IT ALL SUCKS.

Where all you can do is WONDER and WORRY,

about what's to come.

He's only THREE

hearing, two years.

You've come such a long way, yet have such a long way to go.

and of course you worry. Not all the time. Not a lot of the time,

but there are some times, you worry much more than others.

and sometimes that worry is hard to shoo away.

and even as you hear him talk to his siblings, or know he responds

as you call his name from upstairs and he's downstairs,

down the hall in the back room with the tv on,

there are still moments of worry ...

...what's to come when he's 6 and is not in an oral deaf program

with kids who are "like him", because you've worked so hard for him

to be a part of a mainstream classroom and

even harder that he NOT be defined by his hearing loss,

YET, all the six year olds see him as different.

Not only because of the equipment on his head, but

because it's much harder for him to listen and take it all in.

and you just pray and pray the teacher

teaches the class about UNIQUENESS.

not just his first year teacher in mainstream school,

but every teacher and every year thereafter.

...what's to come when he's 8 and he really starts to see himself as different,

and tells you he hates being deaf or asks why he has to be deaf,

when no one else in his family is;

or is scared to speak his voice to tell someone, "I didn't hear you," or

"Can you please repeat what you said?" because he doesn't want to stand out,

in fear of drawing more attention to himself when

honestly it wasn't his choice of not wanting to listen,

but the mere fact that he just didn't hear.

...what's to come when he's 10, and there are sleepovers.

and yes, he's been accepted, because you do everything.in.your.power

to make him a part of the community and to be included,

you advocate, you teach, you empower.

BUT, he's still DEAF and at the sleepover, he's not sure if he should

take off his CIs so not to miss out on the craziness that may go on after he

falls asleep and can't hear a thing.

...what's to come when he's a young teenager and all the kids are

going through puberty. the time when it's a known fact

that kids tease other kids,

and making fun of someone's differences is one way

of ignoring/getting past their own insecurities,

no matter how wrong it is.

you pray he has a good sense of humor, some good come backs,

and that it's not him who is the insecure one.

...what's to come when he's in his late teens and heading off to college,

to a WHOLE NEW community new to his world.

Having to take classes in HUGE auditoriums,

with 100's of classmates, and be able to understand

and keep up with everything the professor is saying.

because honestly, does the professor really care if he's getting it or not?

OR when he's in his college dorms and everyone is running out

because the fire alarm is going off and he's fast asleep, without his CIs on.

will someone stop to take the time to wake him?

You continuously teach him to be his own biggest advocate,

but even in doing so, you constantly pray and hope you are also teaching him

to always be proud of who he is and to use his voice.

as it is his voice that you've worked so hard at achieving.

it is his voice that you are thankful for everyday,

right along with every.single.ounce of hard work teaching him

to not just "hear", but to LISTEN.

just saying.

it's not easy.

I'm his mom. and no matter what,

I will always worry about the "small things",

that truly,

aren't.that.small.

My Sidekick

How do you go from this,

to this,

to this

in what seems like overnight.

In the blink of an eye, my binky baby has turned into a little boy,

and it makes my eyes water.

This week Aiden had therapy with our Regional Infant Hearing Program advisor, who happens to office out of the elementary school that houses the hearing impaired program for preschool and kindergarten. This program is also an option for us to try and send Aiden to, as long as our school district agrees. Instead of therapy though, his therapist and I talked while Aiden played.

Aiden turns three on St. Patty's Day. What does that mean besides the fact that my BABY is growing up WAY too fast?

It means that he will no longer receive Early Intervention services through our county (which pays for his PT, OT, one of his speech therapies, and provides extra funds for community classes such as the music therapy class he's taking at the time).

It means we have scheduled a multi-factored evaluation (MFE), in order to determine if Aiden is eligible for public school special needs preschool (in which we have multiple options of preschools the district MAY agree to send him to that we've been visiting).

It means transitioning from an IFSP (Individualized FAMILY Service Plan) to an IEP (Individualized EDUCATION Plan).

It means Aiden will be under someone else's wing learning language and socialization skills, making friends, having fun, and carrying his "bapac" (backpack) and "uhnba" (lunchbox),

and as excited as I am to think about the benefits he'll receive at whichever preschool setting we choose, and all the fun he's going to have at "sool", and how much language he'll learn, and how much he'll grow all around ...

it all also means I'm just not ready to let my baby go.

It means every time I think about it, my eyes water.

It means that I need to put on my big girl panties and know it's time to let go and let him come out from under momma's wing and gain the independence he is OH SO ready for.

I had no problem sending my older two. None. Nada. Nilch. I don't even think I got tears (not until I saw my oldest walk out the door to middle school).

but now, every time I think about it, I get teary eyed.

So I talked to my therapist, I mean my sister-in-law, and she brought up some very good points.

As many know, barely two months before Aiden was born my dad died from a long, yet fairly quick bout of dementia. He was 55 and way too young. I knew something was wrong with him and worried about him as we tried to figure things out going from doctor to doctor for a good four plus years, took him into my home (on and off) the last two years, and then ran from assisted living to hospitals to nursing homes the last four months. It wasn't easy. At all. I fought (and worked) with doctors, nursing homes, nurses, insurance agencies, and psychologists. I took care of him the best I could. He was my sidekick.

Then two months later Aiden was born. I remember telling my dad the summer I found out I was pregnant. He did a happy dance around the living room. Four months later, he'd make mention of "the baby" but didn't really get it. Three months later, he was gone. I knew Aiden was going to be my strength to carry on. What I didn't know was all I had ahead of me and how much advocating for my dad made me a stronger person and better able to deal with the advocating which was yet to come.

and that's exactly what I've been doing for nearly the last three years. Making sure my deaf son receives the best medical/hearing teams possible to provide him the chance to hear and a life of listening and spoken language; running from audiology appointments all over the state every two to four weeks for nearly a year until his maps are finally right; getting second opinions when that mom instinct kicks in and knows something still isn't right even though "the professionals" say everything is fine; running to therapy after therapy appointment; talking, talking, talking about every.little.thing in order to provide a language rich environment and making EVERYTHING (yes, everything) we do an "experience" to soak his brain with nouns, adjectives, verbs, prepositions, etc. to TEACH him (over and over and over again) something that would seem so simple and that any typical hearing child learns through incidental listening.

For nearly the past three years, it's been him and I,

He's become my sidekick.

Learning, growing, experiencing,

EVERYTHING

TOGETHER.

and honestly, I'm scared. The one person who filled my dad's void is growing up. It's not that he doesn't need me anymore, but more the fact that someone else will be teaching him besides me. I didn't have this problem when he went to The River School in DC, but that was more like the ultimate mommy's day out two times a week. I know I could wait and keep him home another year, but again, I know preschool is the best option for him and believe me, as ready as I seem not to be, I am willing myself to be, because I know how much he'll benefit and how much fun he'll have.

But deep down inside, my stomach knots up and I get a lump in my throat with the thought about not having my sidekick, day in and day out, who means the world to me to take care of and play with and teach and love on all day long.

But I'm sure, deep down inside, there's a part of me who will learn to enjoy

the time away from each other and the tears won't last long.

and maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to fill that void,

and take this long overdue time alone to find myself

and rediscover who I am, as my own person,

without a sidekick.

Terrible (yet Truly Terrific) Twos

Okay, I know Aiden's TWO, and going through what every parent hears as the "terrible twos". I think it's more like the "terrible two years", because this started quite some time ago and I see no light of it getting better in the near future. *VERY DEEP BREATH*

The boy keeps me on my toes all.day.long. Being a sensory seeker and not being able to stay still for more than 10 minutes (unless it's for an episode of Elmo, with a binky, and a sippy cup of milk OR he's strapped into his high chair), there is much trouble to get into. Aiden's not a child to sit and play with his toys for too long, that is, unless I'm sitting right next to him entertaining (which I attribute to the COUNTLESS hours of at home play therapy). He'd rather climb to his sister's top bunk and take all the deco off her walls; or head upstairs to get into his brother's xBox gear; or into the bathrooms to stuff toilet paper in all the toilets and watch the toilet flush, then of course, wash his hands. All this, with spurts of a here and there tantrum, makes for a very long day for mom.

Other examples of our day include:

Bedtime. UGH. We start his nightly routine (bath, book, prayers, take off CIs, bed) around 7:30 and he's not sleeping until nearly 10, sometimes later. Aiden's now in a big boy bed. I would've kept him in a crib well over the age of three, but my little Houdini was a master of escape and I was terrified he'd break a bone sooner or later. He likes his bed, but getting him to go to sleep has not been easy. He stands at his gate and screams. I've gone in, put his ears back on, talked to him about how it's "night-night" time yada, yada, but I gotta say, this is wearing. CIs off, CIs on, CIs off, CIs on. It's not easy and so now I just leave them off, sign to him it's time to go to sleep, and let him alone (or one of us climbs in bed with him until he falls asleep - I know, not good). We added the gate to keep him in since he was getting up in the middle of the night to head downstairs for some late night tv and Nilla Wafers. Seriously.

Naptime is no more. Well, I do still stick him in his room for one, BUT 1) he either cries until I let him out or 2), he'll tear it up. Very seldom does naptime = sleep a.k.a. a break for mom. The other day I went to "check on him" and he had moved the rocking chair to his dresser, got the wipes out of his top drawer and pulled out eachandeveryone, (and ya, it was a new pack). This was after he decided to "clean out his closet". Good thing I caught him before he emptied the drawers.

Bathtime. It used to be easy, LOVED bathtime! He'd let me wash his hair without a problem, would play forever, it was simple. Fun. Now however ... water + a toddler who cannot hear = disaster. That's all I'm going to say. (besides I need to learn a few new signs ... NO and STOP are not working in this situation).

The cats ... oh the poor cats. Thank God one of them is patient and the other one can run fast.

Grocery Shopping. Reserved for my husband or for me on my husband's days off. I continuously torture myself to "try again", thinking it will be different this time, only to fight a screaming toddler to sit in the cart, strap him down, and then start all over because somehow, someway he always gets out (see above comment about "Houdini"). Honestly, I have had people ask me if I needed help.

Restaurants aren't any better. He's at the age where home or a park is the best (and safest) environment.

I'm working on him understanding that sitting in the "time out" chair is not a fun thing to do. He laughs when I put him there and tries to give me countless hugs as I try to talk to him about what he did to get there.

I'm working on trying to use other words besides "no" and "stop" (which he completely understands), and use these times as "learning to listen" opportunities.

I'm working on my patience ... or should I say, Aiden is working my patience.

I often remind myself he's a sensory seeker, most likely due to his vestibular/balance issues. It's easier for him to be constantly on the go than to sit still, feel off balance and become dizzy. I know he gets just as frustrated with communication as we do. At 2 1/2 with my hearing kids, they understood and could speak back. They could tell me if they "got it" or not. Aiden's been hearing bilaterally for just about 13 months and understanding what I'm saying or communicating back is not near as easy. I won't let his hearing loss or sensory issues be an "excuse", but most definitely know they're a huge factor.

and even though I say all this, I do have to say, Aiden is truly a happy go lucky kid with a smile that melts hearts, has hugs for everyone, is in constant exploration, and is all around, a very good boy. He has an amazing personality, one that will take him far in life.

and for all this, I am thankful.

Patience ... oh, and watching my little man hear and speak ... yep, that's truly all it takes (well, and a glass of wine doesn't hurt) to get through these "terrible, yet TRULY TERRIFIC", days.

ALL IN A DAY OF AIDEN

Everyday I have to stop and take many deep breaths.
No, I don't have health problems,

I have Aiden.
The boy is a ball of energy and into.every.little.thing.

Not much has changed since he became mobile as an infant,
except that now he can hear me say NO and STOP,

although he acts like he can't.

I'll use today as an example (and note, it's not even dinner time):

Breakfast

When Aiden is finished, he either starts throwing his food on the floor,

stuffing it down in his highchair, rubbing it in his hair,

smashing it through his fingers, or all of the above.

This morning he decided to also wear the bowl

(with some milk still in it) on his head.

DEEP BREATH.

He thinks he's funny (and he really is),

He also knows those eyes melt my heart.

Grocery Shopping

I don't know why I even try. Let's just say I shouldn't

have taken the extra time to check out all the new Spring

scents of air fresheners and I had a lot of boxes

torn open and Gogurt squished all over the cart.

DEEP BREATH.

Home

After feeding him lunch (which I made the mistake of giving him

a sippy cup without the spill proof thingy and he proceeded

to shake it all over juice flying everywhere),

I decided to clean up the floors and therefore shake the rugs first.

I unlocked the front door and stepped outside,

closing it behind me and that little stinker

LOCKED ME OUT.

As I'm peering through the windows on each side of the door,

PLEADING for him to open the door, he stands there and

WAVES, LAUGHS then RUNS OFF!

Thank GOD for a beautiful day and open windows, BUT

I quickly learned the screens won't come off from the outside unless

you unlock them from the inside first. I'm getting frantic by this point.

I run to the truck to search for a spare key and (thank GOD number 2),

Aiden's daddy left his toolbox in there from a weekend trip.

I get the screwdriver out and tear up the screen to crawl through the window

Aiden laughing and cheering me on the whole time.
MANY, MANY DEEP BREATHS.

Nap time.

During this time I sit to check emails and hear my phone ring ...

can't find it, but the ring leads me to ...
the trash can.

That must be where he ran off to as I was locked out.

Not too fun digging through the garbage

looking for a phone all while hearing Aiden playing in his crib.

DEEP BREATH.

Still.nap.time.

...half hour later, STILL not sleeping.

I go up to check on him, since he's also very well known

to take off his pants and his diaper,
sometimes with an extra surprise (again not fun)! Sure enough,
there's my boy, bare bottomed, clean diapers thrown all over the room,

dirty diaper laying on the floor, and there he stood

holding a clean diaper and his pants out to me, Hard to discipline a little boy who can't hear you.

So I have to get his CIs and put them on.

(notice the mattress on the floor ... that's because he

also loves to climb out of his crib and nearly

broke his arm - I know, time for a big boy bed).

So after the third time of chasing him down,

changing his sheets, CIs on and off again,

and getting him BACK TO BED,

he finally fell asleep

with his pants on.

Forget the deep breaths.
I need a glass of wine.

Good with My Bad

I am completely worn out. I have been going nonstop since Aiden started school. It doesn't help that last week we had at least one commitment every day. School, audiology, therapy, ECI, school. Nonstop.every.day.of.the.week.

This trip to Aiden's school twice a week is hard. We leave before 7am every morning and are still late ... and class doesn't start until 8:30/8:45! The traffic is absolutely insane. The ride home is fine, it's getting there that's the problem and I'm starting to wonder if I really made the right decision to start him at such an early age.

I have to get Aiden up out of bed by 6:15am and throw him in the car for our two hour trek into D.C. I promise you, the other day it took me 25 minutes to travel from exit 28A to exit 28B. No joke. I truly don't mind the drive, but what I hate is the fact that during this time, Aiden's CIs become breakfast so he has no sound for the whole trip. Top that off with dropoff crying fits (ok, they don't last long, but it still breaks my heart) and I feel like a terrible mother.

I can't help but think:

- I started him too early.
- I'm losing good hearing/language opportunities during our travel time.
- He's crying when I drop him off, and
- Completely worn out when I pick him up.
- He's completely off schedule right now.
- How is he going to stay an extra hour once a week for private one on one therapy?
- Then he has AVT the one day in between his school days ... when does my baby get a break?
- He's reverted back to wanting the bottle even more, and I give in. It's the guilt.

These are all things that have been going through my mind nonstop and it makes me want to take my baby and stop it all.

Then I remember:

- This is such an amazing opportunity - he's getting three and half hours of therapy in a language enriched environment.

- He's playing, having fun, learning, learning, learning ...

- ... all at a prime learning to listen stage in his life.

- This is one of the best oral school's for deaf that works hand in hand with his CI center/team.

- He's in a classroom with 6 hearing peers and one other CI peer.

- He gets excited when he see pictures of his teachers and classmates.

- I am truly enjoying the downtime with Ben's mom and getting to talk with other CI moms who just get it.

The time to enrich his mind is now.

- He's starting to say the animal sound when he sees a specific animal.

- He plays with the caterpillar and makes it eat the fruits as he makes the munching noise each time.

- He's starting to imitate more

- He's becoming more observant and vocal

- His teachers are documenting his day and in the last three visits alone, have picked up on things I haven't, such as:

• Aiden says bah (ball)!
• When they ring the bell for circle time or clean up time, he not only hears it, but follows his classmates and participates in whatever they should be doing
• Sought out the teacher when his CI fell off! HELLO! He's NEVER done this at home ... until today, he SAID to me "on, on, on" and when I turned around, noticed his CI was off!
• Requested "uh, uh, uh" (up, up, up) when he wanted to wash his hands
• Is using the classroom climber unassisted ... remember, he's the only one in his class who is not walking, he's going to want to keep up sooner or later!

The hard work is now. The pay off is slow ... but it's definitely showing it's presence.

He is adjusting ... it's harder on me than it is on him ... emotionally and physically. Really.

When Aiden was born, I wasn't ready to hear he was deaf. I tried to ignore it. Not believe it, that there was something that would just "fix" it and he'd be fine.

But there wasn't a cure. So we grieved and forged forward.

Now Aiden's a full fledged toddler with cochlear implants. I'm not ready for this hectic schedule and feel guilty for how busy we are. But I can't ignore it. He's in a prime learning stage. I wish everyday that there was an easy fix for him. I wish everyday things were easier for him. I wish everyday he didn't have to work so hard to learn to listen and speak.

But he does. So we forge forward.

I wish I was as strong as he is.

He truly is one amazing little boy.

Mom of the Year Award ... I Think Not

Okay. So yesterday I started off my day by helping Kailyn's teacher for a good hour or so, then hurried home to get Aiden ready for therapy. As I am driving down the highway, rushing, as always, to get to where we needed to be, I realized I truly did not want to go.

It's at 11:30 and the time just.does.not.work. BUT, it's the only time that's available right now, unless I want to take a late afternoon appt. and guess what, I don't. The drive is already 30 to 40 minutes, and although Aiden's missing his morning nap, not getting lunch until we get back, I feel the need to be home for my third grader when she walks through that door. I hate it for Aiden, yet she's still too young to come home to an empty house. Not happening. Not yet.

As I'm driving, I am feeling out of control with so much to do. Have to go here, need to do this, can't believe I forgot to rent Kailyn's violin since practice started TODAY, does Ryan have lunch money, we need milk, and I'm feeling like a crazed, frantic mom with a to-do list a mile long when all I want to do is go home and play with my little monkey ... or maybe not ...

because truly, at the moment, all I wanted to do was drop Aiden off with his dad at work and go have lunch on a patio with some good wine, good food, and good friends. Now that's a good stress reliever. BUT, back to reality, NOT HAPPENING.

So as I'm driving, I'm thinking of all the things I didn't get done/things I needed to do and just start laughing. We as moms put so much on our shoulders to be PERFECT. Perfect for our kids. Perfect for our husbands. Perfect for our parents. Perfect for our friends. Perfect for everyone but ourselves. When is the last time you truly did one good thing for yourself EVERY.SINGLE.DAY.OF.ONE.WHOLE.WEEK ? Okay, that's a lot to ask, so how about at least one day in one week?

Moms tend to take care of others first and themselves last. Then throw in one or more of any of the following: having more than one child, having a child with special needs, working full or part time, being a single parent, taking care of a parent(s), etc. etc. AND not to mention, whatever personal problems that may arise. I know I am just worn out by the end of the day. Why is this? Truly, if we took care of ourselves first everyone would be a lot happier, because mom would be happier. Right?

When I got home, I did myself an injustice and looked at my schedule for the next week and wish I hadn't. I had to let it go. So I went and poured myself a glass of wine.

That's when I realized I seriously need to start scheduling in some "ME" time ... and not just saying it, but actually writing it down on those great white board calendars for everyone.in.the.house.to.see. Because you know, if I'm going to get that "mom of the year award" (NOT), I better take care of me first.

Well, then fast forward to tonight. Hmmm, far from perfect.

Aiden's older brother had a baseball game. This place was not close, and in an area I've never been. This meant getting there, to say nicely, sucked and was very stressful (even with Miss GPS aka Miss B&*ch). On top of it all, Aiden's daddy had to work and I knew by the time I got home it would be too late for baths. So, here I go again, rushing to get homework completed, dinner done, baths over, on the road (realizing half way there that Aiden was missing a CI - oh the stress) and back home three hours later only to realize,

I fed everyone...

BUT Aiden.

Do I still get a trophy?

TAG - I'm It! Five Things I Love About Being a Mom

I've been tagged (and am late at responding!) by Lucas' mommy, from the blog, Life with Lucas, to list the five things I love about being a mom. I could list so many things, unconditional love to baseball games, but here are five things that popped into my mind from the get go.

Five Things I Love About Being a Mom to

Ryan, Kailyn, and Aiden

One: Unconditional Love - I remember when I was in college, I brought home two cats to my mom's house. I didn't think I could love anything more than those two cats. Then I got married and became a mother. I was so scared too, about having a second child. I worried about how I could love another child as much as I loved my first? But I did. Then eight years later, came Aiden and a whole other new love. This is the one thing I love most about being a mom is the unconditional love for each child is just unbelievable!


Two - Snuggles - There is nothing better than getting one of my kids in bed with me and snuggling all over them! Ryan was always my biggest snuggle bunny. As a baby he'd snuggle his head right into my shoulder and as a toddler he'd nest himself right into my chest. Kailyn I worried about, because as a baby, she just wasn't a snuggler, but now ... watch out ... she'll fight her daddy for any bit of snuggle time with mommy - and she always wins! Aiden's a little snuggler too! He'll lay his head on my shoulder forever and I just love every little bit of it!


Three - Unlimited Hugs and Kisses, THEY'RE FREEEEE! - In our house we are always giving hugs, kisses, and saying "I Love You". My own dad never let me leave the house until I came over planted a kiss on his cheek and he always told me, "Be safe. I love you." As a child, it got on my nerves, as a mom, I have a whole new appreciation for this. Oh, and butterfly kisses and eskimo kisses ARE definitely included here!

Four - Family Traditions and Lil' Sweet Nothings - I think family traditions are so important, but even more important to me are the little repetitive things, no matter how cheesey, I want my kids to remember so that when they grow up, they can look back with a smile and say "Remember when ...". For example, notes in Kailyn's lunchbox or on every family roadtrip we have a "theme song" we play over and over; then whenever we hear the song later, we talk about "the trip" it belongs to.

Five - Watching them Grow - I hate how fast they are growing (I can't believe Ryan is already 12!), but it's just amazing to see who they are becoming. I love the different stages they go through ...belly laughs as an infant, first steps and first words; all the great "why" questions around age 3 (i.e. "mommy, why's that house blue? mommy, why's the grass green? mommy, how'd that baby get in your tummy?"; age 5/6 - HELLO?!? GIRL'S DAY!; age 10 - independence starting to set in, yet still very loving; Age 12 - Puberty ... it's not the funnest stage, but it is fun hearing his voice change, being able to joke around a lot more sarcastically, and seeing the teenager that's about to emerge.

Yes, being a mom has made my life complete. Each one of them has fulfilled a part of me in their own way. Each one of them has that certain something about them that makes their mommy smile each and everyday! Each one of them holds a very special place in their mommy's heart and soul ... a love that no one can take away.

I'm supposed to tag five more moms now, but I think most of them have been tagged. So if you haven't been tagged and you have the time to share your five favorite things, TAG ... YOU'RE IT!