My sweet sweet baby has discovered he has an opinion. Wait, let me rephrase that: he has an OPINION!!
For a child who cannot talk, sign, or generally communicate to me what his needs and wants are, he sure is getting good at telling me anyway. He has entered a rather amusing phase in his life where tantrums are starting to play a significant role in his communication skills. We're not sure he'll ever be able to speak in the same way you and I do (well, not my little sister V - she and Little O may have a lot in common), but he's certainly finding his voice.
I was brushing my teeth this morning and put Little O on the bathroom counter so he could watch. He likes to play with the lotions and potions up there and it keeps him from scooting around on his backside outta the door and down the stairs. I gave him a packet of flossups to play with while I was occupied with a toothbrush, and he was very happy watching me and chewing on the plastic wrapping while he waited. Well, then I wanted to USE a flossup to floss my teeth with, which required me to extricate said item from small child. This did not go down well. He SCREAMED, went red in the face, burst into tears, and started whacking his thighs with tiny, bunched-up fists of infant fury. I found the whole thing terribly funny, especially as, as soon as I'd got out a flossup and given them back to him, he stopped his tantrum instantly and resumed chewing the corner of the packet.
Ah, I love Little O. The more 'normal' stuff he does, the prouder I am of him. It's just such a joy to see him achieve a goal he's really struggled with, as well as the other 'norrmal' development milestones like throwing temper tantrums. At this point I love everything he does, from the back-scooting to the tantrums. Ask me again in a month though and I may have changed my mind...
Tina.
Showing posts with label Teeth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Teeth. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Our (not so) secret plan
We're going to have another baby! Well, not RIGHT now, but at some point before this year is up we're going to start trying to have another child.
We love Owen, and one of the reasons we've reached this decision is to benefit him. He doesn't attend a nursery or day care centre, so the amount of interaction he has with other children who are of the same age as him is very limited. It would therefore be lovely if we could provide him with a playmate, and, given Owen's developmental delays, the differences between their ages would be extremely small. We also feel that each child would benefit dramatically from having a sibling so developmentally different from themselves. After all, my younger sister is extremely delayed, but Anthea and I have nothing but good things to say about our experiences growing up with her. She has also benefitted from having us 'normal' siblings around: you can tell she loves us and remembers us each time we see her.
For a very long time, Mike was prepared to have another baby and I said a definite 'no'. I was (and to some extent, still am) extremely nervous about taking care of two small children by myself during the day. Owen's feedings have been so traumatic for me that the thought of mopping up sick with one hand and breastfeeding a newborn in the other just made me break out in a cold sweat. Owen also has so many appointments that my concerns about spending adequate time with each child, and just being able to MAKE all those appointments, has seemed very daunting. My mental health has already suffered in the past year; what's to say it won't spiral even further out of control with the responsibility of another baby?
Well... in the last month or so, life has started to slowly, slowly... creepingly... improve. We changed Owen's formula recently and his feeds have not only been more successful, they've also been quicker. It has meant I have more time to devote to playing with him, doing my own work, and taking care of jobs around the house. Also, now he's turned one, his appointments are starting to ease off a little. He's had as many surgeries as doctors initially anticipated he would when he was born, which means that although we still need to attend yearly appointments, things won't be on the same scale as they have been over the last twelve months. It's true that we have to start dental care visits, and some appointments won't ease off at all, but Owen's body has responded so incredibly well to a growing and healing heart, eyes, head, and brain, that most of the specialists we see are already scaling things back. These changes have been so small, so incremental, that to anyone else they're barely visible, but to ME, they're the difference between health and misery.
For the last six weeks I've been seeing another therapist, and Mike and Owen attended a session with me last week. I feel very good about this course of therapy, as she really listens to what I want, and allows that input to guide my treatment. For example, I think deep-breathing and listening to whale music will do jack, and I smirk loudly whenever people talk about it. Reading a book she's lent me called Coping with Infinite Loss and Grief, however, allows me to analyse my thoughts and behaviour from an analytical standpoint - which is much more up my alley. I also love the fact she has evening hours. It makes such a difference to not have to bring Owen along, and to return to him fresh and allieved of dark thoughts, just in time to put him to bed.
So, the upshot of all this is that I have an appointment to get my last shot of Depo Provera tomorrow, and that will be it. It will wear off in September, and Mike and I will allow nature to take its course from that point on. Apparently the hormones in Depo can take several months to wear off, so I'm not anticipating a baby arriving next May, but it's kind of nice to have a timeframe in mind. Maybe by Christmas I'll have some good news.
Tina.
We love Owen, and one of the reasons we've reached this decision is to benefit him. He doesn't attend a nursery or day care centre, so the amount of interaction he has with other children who are of the same age as him is very limited. It would therefore be lovely if we could provide him with a playmate, and, given Owen's developmental delays, the differences between their ages would be extremely small. We also feel that each child would benefit dramatically from having a sibling so developmentally different from themselves. After all, my younger sister is extremely delayed, but Anthea and I have nothing but good things to say about our experiences growing up with her. She has also benefitted from having us 'normal' siblings around: you can tell she loves us and remembers us each time we see her.
For a very long time, Mike was prepared to have another baby and I said a definite 'no'. I was (and to some extent, still am) extremely nervous about taking care of two small children by myself during the day. Owen's feedings have been so traumatic for me that the thought of mopping up sick with one hand and breastfeeding a newborn in the other just made me break out in a cold sweat. Owen also has so many appointments that my concerns about spending adequate time with each child, and just being able to MAKE all those appointments, has seemed very daunting. My mental health has already suffered in the past year; what's to say it won't spiral even further out of control with the responsibility of another baby?
Well... in the last month or so, life has started to slowly, slowly... creepingly... improve. We changed Owen's formula recently and his feeds have not only been more successful, they've also been quicker. It has meant I have more time to devote to playing with him, doing my own work, and taking care of jobs around the house. Also, now he's turned one, his appointments are starting to ease off a little. He's had as many surgeries as doctors initially anticipated he would when he was born, which means that although we still need to attend yearly appointments, things won't be on the same scale as they have been over the last twelve months. It's true that we have to start dental care visits, and some appointments won't ease off at all, but Owen's body has responded so incredibly well to a growing and healing heart, eyes, head, and brain, that most of the specialists we see are already scaling things back. These changes have been so small, so incremental, that to anyone else they're barely visible, but to ME, they're the difference between health and misery.
For the last six weeks I've been seeing another therapist, and Mike and Owen attended a session with me last week. I feel very good about this course of therapy, as she really listens to what I want, and allows that input to guide my treatment. For example, I think deep-breathing and listening to whale music will do jack, and I smirk loudly whenever people talk about it. Reading a book she's lent me called Coping with Infinite Loss and Grief, however, allows me to analyse my thoughts and behaviour from an analytical standpoint - which is much more up my alley. I also love the fact she has evening hours. It makes such a difference to not have to bring Owen along, and to return to him fresh and allieved of dark thoughts, just in time to put him to bed.
So, the upshot of all this is that I have an appointment to get my last shot of Depo Provera tomorrow, and that will be it. It will wear off in September, and Mike and I will allow nature to take its course from that point on. Apparently the hormones in Depo can take several months to wear off, so I'm not anticipating a baby arriving next May, but it's kind of nice to have a timeframe in mind. Maybe by Christmas I'll have some good news.
Tina.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Ten. TEN!!
As I was brushing Owen's teeth last night, I thought I saw a flash of white in the corner of his mouth. Concerned he'd tried to eat something he shouldn't have, I explored his mouth with a finger and found not one... not two... not even three... but FOUR teeth I didn't know he had! That brings his total to ten. I cannot believe my child has managed to grow four more teeth that I was completely unaware of. And this comes from someone who brushes his teeth twice a day and tries desperately to shove food in to his gob another three. TEN! I was impressed last week with six. Now I'm close to passing out...
Mother's Day in America was yesterday, which was kinda cool. In keeping with last year's pre-baby/motherhood theme, Owen (Mike, ahem) bought me new bedding. Last year was some glorious stuff for our main bedroom and this year it was a new quilt set for the guest room we've just finished redecorating. I also got a fancy schmancy breakfast cooked for me and some flowers. The breakfast gave both me and Mike mild food poisoning overnight, but it was worth it. Hahaha.
I've also discovered I really enjoying mowing the lawn. That's not in the least bit interesting, I do realise, but there's something very calming about sticking on some headphones and just getting on with it. Plus we share some lawn at the front with two neighbours, and there's an immense satisfaction about having a neater lawn than them, even if it's only for 24 hours.
I had a really long list of stuff I wanted to write about in my head earlier and now I've forgotten nearly everything. Ho hum.
Tina.
Mother's Day in America was yesterday, which was kinda cool. In keeping with last year's pre-baby/motherhood theme, Owen (Mike, ahem) bought me new bedding. Last year was some glorious stuff for our main bedroom and this year it was a new quilt set for the guest room we've just finished redecorating. I also got a fancy schmancy breakfast cooked for me and some flowers. The breakfast gave both me and Mike mild food poisoning overnight, but it was worth it. Hahaha.
I've also discovered I really enjoying mowing the lawn. That's not in the least bit interesting, I do realise, but there's something very calming about sticking on some headphones and just getting on with it. Plus we share some lawn at the front with two neighbours, and there's an immense satisfaction about having a neater lawn than them, even if it's only for 24 hours.
I had a really long list of stuff I wanted to write about in my head earlier and now I've forgotten nearly everything. Ho hum.
Tina.
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