Some Quick Updates

• Had a doctor's appointment this morning. I'm now on the every-two-week plan, which means this pregnancy is in its home stretch, which is a GOOOODD thing (getting a little uncomfortable here.... the 100 degree heat doesn't help matters).

• This boy is a giant. He has a giant head - not in a worrisome way though (unless you're the one giving birth to him) and weighs around 5.5 pounds. Due date is September 21. You do the math. Lord.

• Have I mentioned it's 100 degrees here? It's also only 11 am. Andrew and I will be heading to the pool this afternoon - DUH.

• We do have a name picked out for the giant new kiddo, but we aren't telling anyone what it is. Yes, I know it's annoying. We're just weird like that. We want some glimpse of surprise with this pregnancy, since this time we already know the gender (something we didn't know in Andrew's case until he was born).

• Andrew's making some strides with his speech. He's also having a hearing test next month just to rule out any possible issues there, although no one really thinks there are problems - just a precaution.

• It's 100 degrees here. I'm going to splurge today and turn down the AC from 78 to 76. Yeah, you heard me. Spare no expense. My enormous girth gives me the go-ahead.

I Like...

...spiders, as long as they are not on me. This Green Lynx (so named for the way he pounces on prey instead of catching things in his web) was nicely camouflaged on one of our tomato plants this morning. I'm sure I'll get another scolding from Jennifer, like I did here, for taking and posting more pictures of insects. :O) Did you know that you are always three feet away from a spider? True.
...cicada shells, fondly reminding me of playing with the giant bugs in my WV yard as a little girl (remember Donna? Lori?). Again, Jennifer, my apologies.
...sweet little boys playing in their sandboxes.

Fans of Early Intervention

Andrew working with his speech therapist

and his early interventionistAs I’ve mentioned in an earlier post or two, we have been a little concerned about Andrew’s vocabulary for a few months. Despite our best efforts to talk to, read to, and teach this child everything we possibly could, he just wasn’t close to saying 200 words like a 2-year-old is supposed to be able to do, and two-word phrases were non-existent. So, a few weeks ago, we referred him for special speech services through the SC Department of Health and Environmental Control.

This whole process has been a learning experience for us, as well as Andrew. In 1986, Congress passed legislation mandating that children ages 0-3 with special concerns get the help they need, free of charge, before they reach the school systems. This early intervention is available to any family in our country and the program names vary from state to state (in SC, it’s called BabyNet). In my opinion, the program is one of the few positive uses of working Americans’ hard-earned tax dollars.

First, an intake person came out to do a 3-hour assessment of Andrew to see if he qualified for services. Once he did, we were set up with an early interventionist (EI) who further assessed him and created, together with us, the general goal of increasing Andrew’s vocabulary. The EI then put us in contact with a speech therapist (ST) who did yet another evaluation and assessment. The ST determined, as we agreed, Andrew is perfectly normal with receptive language – he gets it. He understands everything that is said. For whatever reason, though, his expressive language is moderately delayed.

Hence, our objective: increasing Andrew’s expressive vocabulary to 200 words over the next few months in order to decrease his frustration and improve his communication skills. To accomplish this, the EI comes once a week for 60 minutes, and the ST comes on a different day once a week for 60 minutes. They both direct him through speech-related play activities that he LOVES. He screams with delight when he sees each one of them at the door with their special box of toys. They work with me during the sessions, as well, and I am given “homework” to focus on with Andrew for the remainder of the week.

So far, we’ve been focusing on consciously narrating Andrew’s play in detail (i.e. “Push the truck. Put the car on top of the truck. Point to the truck’s windshield. Open the door.”), practicing repetitions of certain tricky vowel-consonant combinations (i.e. the “OW’ as in “cow”), and using sign language in conjunction with the spoken words for reinforcement of understanding. We’ve already started seeing glimpses of improvement and are really impressed with the whole program. It’s tough to admit that your child isn’t just perfect in every possible way, but we are so glad we did and have gotten him (and ourselves) some great help.

Reason #564 to Always Wear Your Bathing Suit Cover-Up

You might be 7.5 months pregnant, wearing your bathing tent bathing suit and have a tire blowout on the interstate on the way to the water park. Upon reaching the side of the road in a roguish torrential downpour and assessing the smoking scraps that used to be your tire, you'll have to quickly pull your toddler from the car seat and stand many yards away from your vehicle in your bathing tent suit in the pouring rain while you call your husband and AAA.

No good Samaritans will stop to help, either, even though you have what appears to be a pretty pathetic situation. (Could be that bathing tent suit.)

Then, when you finally do get to the water park, your child will have to leave the water after one time down the slide due to thunder. Not lightning. There is not visible lightning anywhere, just thunder.

You give up on the water portion of the park and take your toddler to the attached playground. The park staff kicks him off of there, too, because it's a metal structure. Still, no lightning. Not even thunder at this point.

So, clearly accepting defeat, your child and you sadly give up on this day, get into the car (the one your husband traded with you after he rescued you an hour or so earlier), and head home. Crying. And not just the child.

You awake at 3 am with a wildly kicking fetus and an upset stomach. Gofigure.

Maybe, just maybe, the day's karma would have been shifted if that daggone cover-up had just been worn. We'll never know.

Rockin' Out

Last night, we visited friends and got into a rousing game of "Rock Band." It was really fun for all, but Andrew loved it the most. He sang his heart out and kept yelling "MORE!" after each song. His performances usually only consisted of one repeated syllable, but as you can see, he definitely sang with feeling. Look out, American Idol.

I Slept for Eight Hours Last Night

Yes, this is noteworthy. Never happens, especially in this last trimester. So, I provide for you a checklist. Secrets, if you will, to a great night of sleep when you are 7.5 months along:

• No afternoon naps that day, no matter how tired, whiny and swollen you are
• A miraculously cooperative, quiet 2-year-old in the next room
• Tough, temper-tantrum-filled evening a few hours before from said 2-year-old
• Falling asleep before potentially snore-producing husband
• Absolutely no Klondike bars after 9 pm (and keeping it down to consumption of only one Klondike bar prior to that, rather than two, is also recommended)

this weekend: a two-minute breakdown