ALL DONE- Brady

Some things I don’t blog about. I don’t blog about them because I worry that I am exposing too much of “us” on the internet. I also worry that I will sound like I am whining when there are plenty of parents out there who are watching their babies fight for their lives and our challenges seem small. But, I want to write about something in case anyone else has our experience and it involves talking.

When Brady turned one, we asked our pediatrician if she was concerned that Brady was not talking. She wasn’t so we weren’t either.

Glenn and I talked about it all the time. "Should he be talking more?" "Are you worried he is not talking very much?" "Do you think something is wrong?"

At his 18-month well visit, we asked again. She was concerned but not overly. She said we would keep an eye on it and discuss our options when he turned two. We were concerned. He had just started daycare and all he could say was “Dall Done”.

Other kids had vocabularies that far exceeded his. Other kids were putting two words together. Other kids were communicating their needs at daycare. Other kids were able to defend themselves at daycare using words. Brady could do NONE of these things. He got it. He was smart. He understood. But he just wouldn’t talk. No words. He was frustrated. He was getting bit. And we were worried.

Over the summer I had him evaluated by Early Intervention.

In my head, I believed my ma. She told me that some kids just take longer to talk. Brady would have a “light switch” moment and his vocabulary would explode. I believed her. But, I still had him evaluated in July because I was anxious about another baby, him not talking and possibly regressing even further into complete silence.

Cognitively, he was functioning at 30 months. He was only 21 months.

Verbally, he was functioning at 12 months. He was 21 months.

He qualified.

My heart sank. Did we do something wrong? Was it because he was with a nanny from age one to one and half by himself all day? Could we have done more? What if didn’t talk?

I won’t bore you with the details but I will tell you that EI, thru the state of Illinois, was more expensive than private speech therapy. So, we began private speech therapy in August. One hour per week.

He hated it. He was stubborn. He refused to engage some days. He had therapy in our home. He was having therapy at the end of a long day that involved daycare and commuting. He was talking a bit more but neither Glenn nor I were convinced it was result of speech therapy. We weren’t sure what to do after 3 months.

He was getting bit at daycare repeatedly by the same kid. Daycare was convinced if he could be more verbal and defend himself with words, he wouldn’t be bitten anymore. We were frustrated. We wanted him to talk more. We needed him to talk more. We needed the tantrums to stop. We needed him to tell us what he needed. We needed him to be able to talk to his teachers at school.

I wondered if we should stop given the amount of change that had occurred in our house. Was it causing more harm than good? Should we move the therapy up to daycare? Should we stick with it? I thought about it all the time.

I headed to Bloomington for a week while I was off on maternity leave before Thanksgiving. We got there and my mom asked Brady who was in the car seat next to him and he instantly responded “Cate”. I wasn’t sure if I heard him right. But I did. He said her name. For the first time. The next seven days his vocabulary exploded. He said new words each day. It didn't stop. He has continued to say new words daily. He says anything we say. He will try to say anything we ask him to. The light switch turned on.

I decided that I was going to move his speech therapy during the day at daycare. He was talking so much more but I just knew that after school in the middle of the week wasn’t working. It was going to cost us dramatically more, but I felt like it would be easier on him. He had to be re-evaluated if we were going to use EI at his daycare. They were here on Thursday.

Cognitively, he is functioning at 42 months. He is only 26 months.

Verbally, he is functioning at 25 months. He is 26 months.

He is “ALL DONE”. He does not qualify for speech services.

My gut all along told me that he would be fine. He would talk. He was just a late talker because he was so interested in doing. My mind told me as his mother I needed to do whatever necessary to get him talking. Have him evaluated. Get him therapy.

I don’t think he needed speech therapy. I don’t think it’s the reason he talks now. He’s busy. He’s a late bloomer. He is curious, funny and sweet.

He took his time. He’s all done and we are ready to move on.

Cate- Three Months and Better Together

Oh baby girl, where do I start? You are three months old. Three whole months have passed since you blessed your dad, brother and I by entering this world. Things are changing so fast and I just want to remember all of it. You have made us better. You have made me better.

I believe in memories because they look so, So pretty when I sleep And when I wake up you look so pretty sleeping next to me


As, I sneak out of bed at 5am to start our morning, I catch myself standing over the bed to take one more look at you before I pump. I listen to those quiet sighs, the meeps and peeps that will shortly end and I smile. We are finding our groove and you are a great second kid. You are content, you are portable and adaptable. Even as you are currently, sick with daycare germs, you are taking it in stride.

But there is not enough time

Our days are consumed with commuting, daycare, schedules, baths, bottles and routines. But, it is okay. It's okay because I enjoyed you. I didn't do that with your brother. I was crippled with worry, anxiety and fears when I was home with Brady about what it would be like when I went back. And while those emotions still consume me, I spent the last few weeks of my maternity leave soaking you up. Your sporadic smiles, the coos that you made, the face of contentment when you are placed in the bath and the hold you have on my shoulder when I carry you. I enjoyed you and I know that you are happy.

And there is no, no song I could sing And there is no combination of words I could say

I don't think there is a space, a place, or venue where I could adequately put in to words my love for you. Trying to define my love for you, or your brother or your dad is impossible because it is raw, real and bigger than life.

But I will still tell you one thing We're better together We so much better when we're together We so much better when we're together

You learned how to smile.
You love your activity mat.
Your changing table is a happy place for all of us.
You still get up once a night.
You go to bed at 6 and we wake you at 6.
You are changing before our eyes.
And the kid next to you, is completely in love with you.

Happy 3 Months Baby Girl!

5 Things I Believe

5 Things I Believe

I believe that I am better mom working even if I am barely treading water.

My head is currently bobbing up and down in a current of water that seems at times to be so fierce that there have been moments this week when I am ready to concede and drown and at other times is so calm and normal that I feel like I am floating. My eyes begging to close as the salt of stress and fatigue wears on me. One week back in the grind of an ocean I call life. Learning how to balance and stay afloat in water is so hard to do, but once you master it, you don’t forget it. We are finding a groove, a routine, how to float. Juggling dinner, bottles, baths, dishes, preparations for the next day and babies.

I believe that it is quality of the time that you spend with your kids that counts, not the quantity.

I sink into our glider, I watch Cate as her eyes meet mine and her hand grips my finger tightly and fiercely. I find myself quickly seeking the steady rocking motion that calms her knowing it calms me too. I feel my shoulders loosen and allow myself to focus on her. Only her as she flits her eyes eventually sleeping soundly as I rock.

I turn on our Christmas station in our kitchen and pick Brady up. I dance with him and sing the lyrics loudly. Spinning him around until he squeals in delight, hugging him close to me so I can absorb his energy, his curiosity and pure delight in simple things. He asks for more and I oblige so we can enjoy this moment.

I believe that when parents work together, life is simpler.

I instinctively get Brady’s pajamas out and his clothes for the next day. Glenn gets Cate’s bottle warm without having to be asked as the medicine is dispensed in her mouth. One misstep and the baby is screaming, a the 2 year old is begging to wear “Buzz” for the third time in one week. But we force each other to stay afloat. Not allowing each other to sink, supporting each other “by taking one for the team”. He eats with Brady, takes his second shower of the day with Brady to not disturb Cate, and doesn’t question me at 8:30 when I head to bed. We may not communicate out loud frequently or have stimulating conversations, but this week we are closer than we have every been. We know each other’s eyes. We each have our jobs. I make bottles, Glenn puts Brady to bed. We collapse on the couch at the end of the night. Our eyes tired, our backs sore and ready for bed. Yet, we gear up to do it all again because we are trying to stay afloat.

I believe that watching my children interact are moments that will always bring tears to my eyes.

Cate was fussing on Sunday night as I was trying to get dinner on the table. I just needed BOTH hands for three minutes and she was crying in her chair. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Brady sauntered in the room with something he painted earlier that day. “Bop (Stop in toddler speak) Bop Cate. Bop cry Cate. Bear. Here.”He throws the picture at her and begins to tickle her toes.

I walk in to Young Preschool room at daycare and we got through the motions. Coat and hat on and then say our goodbyes. We walk out to where Cate’s car seat is and he pulls down the cover. “Hi Cate” as he bends down and rubs her head. Pushing her stroller out of daycare with a protectiveness and sense of pride that I can't explain.

Cate was on her activity mat last weekend. She was contently staring at things but eventually wanted to be picked up. I was in the office sifting through the mail. I watch him. One car. Then the second. Then a third. He gave her every car he was playing with and then laid his head next to hers.

I believe that my family is what makes life worth living.

Linking up with Mama Kat's Writer's Workshop

The Time Tree

We have this maple tree in our back yard. When we moved in to our house in April of 2009, we were struck by how mature it was. How tall it was and long it’s branches were.

It’s become a symbol of time for us since we moved in.

We love it in the summer. It provides the shade that is necessary in the sweltering Chicago summers so Brady can play outside. Its long sturdy branches are strong enough to hold a swing that Brady migrates to the minute we go outside. The shade provides our back deck with a place to enjoy the cool breeze as we sit drinking beer, reading a good book and watching as Brady explores the yard.

And the colors…the tree is magical. It transforms overnight. Going from green, to gold to this beautiful red that screams fall is here. I swear it happened this weekend. One day it was gold and green and the next morning it was full of beautiful dark red leaves.

Those leaves …they have to be raked. The first fall, I distinctly remember my mama going outside and giving a landscaping company cleaning up leaves next door $50 to do ours. We had a two week old. We had a new business. We had too much on our plates to deal with the leaves.

Last year, we raked. A lot of us raked. Family came a bit early and the day of Brady’s 1^st Birthday party, Glenn and I and my parents were out there raking the leaves. We did it because we had too…so people had a place to stand, kids a place to run and so that our backyard could be a social spot.

This year was different. It was about my boys and the leaves. The boys raked on Saturday and by Sunday it was like it never happened. This cycle goes on wash, lather, rinse, repeat daily for weeks. Some days we shake our heads as we walk from our garage in to our house not believing that this one tree has this many leaves and that the cycle must be repeated. Some days I watch as the wind from the east blows the leaves in to tour neighbor’s yard leaving a few less for us to rake.

But truth be told, this old tree means a lot to me. Those leaves are helping me make memories.

I watch as a two year old gets to be like dad and rake, even if he is undoing piles already created.

I capture him after he jumped in to the pile because that it what you are supposed to do.

And with every handful he scoops in to the bag, I watch as this tree symbolizes another year and time that is passing by.

Cate {What a Difference a Month Makes} 2 Months

Our sweet Cate is two months old.

Hello November! How did you sneak up on us so fast?

Hello my return to work at the end of this month! {Insert panic here}

Let me tell you what I know about her after another month… she is a mama’s girl. She wants her mama ALL THE TIME. I would be lying if I tell you I don’t love it. Sweet thing just wants to view the world off my shoulder. Sure there are moments, I would like have some else hold her, soothe her and console her but most times I cherish the quiet understanding we have of one another as we rock on the glider or walk the neighborhood.

Girlfriend will smile…but it takes some work. She is a serious baby- kind of like her mama, so I can’t be upset that it takes a lot to get her to grin. Those smiles are coming with more frequency and I think she is stingy with them because when she does smile, which is hard to capture, but it is huge!

All things considered she is a great sleeper. (Please don’t let this statement jinx it). She will take a bottle around 9:00 and be in her crib by 9:30. (Thanks to her reflux, feeding takes on a whole new amount of time). She will usually sleep until 3:30. She eats QUICKLY and goes back to sleep until 6:30 or so. One more quick feeding and she is back to sleep until 9:00am. I am so grateful that she is such a good sleeper but I have to admit I find myself rocking her a little longer each night because I know those middle of the night moments will be ending so soon.

We are “managing” the reflux the best we can. People who call reflux the devil’s serum aren’t kidding. If you have or ever had a child with reflux, I get what you were trying to tell me. It is agonizing and painful. It is so hard to watch her try to swallow, scream in pain and be upset. The gurgling in her belly makes my stomach hurt.

Her hips...well they are still loose. More on that at four months. The initial ultrasound showed the bone length was normal but the spacing abnormal so we wait...

The blocked tear duct requires some massaging. We hope it will correct itself or she will have to have a surgery to fix it.

The Stats

Weight- 11 pounds 9 ounces (75%)

Height- 22 ¾ inches (75%)