In Which Connor Loves The Box

So my child has, sitting untouched in his room, several hundred dollars worth of developmental toys.  He has around 300 books.  He has a rocking horse, a race car track and a tricycle.  He has a swing suspended from his bedroom ceiling, for Pete's sake.

Guess what he wants to play with?

Yes, that's right.  The Box.  I'm relatively convinced that this is some sort of universal principle and that every child between the ages of two and eight-- regardless of their life circumstances-- believes that The Box represents the pinnacle of all things that are fun and will prefer it to any other source of amusement.  Toy manufacturers have been trying to recreate the essence of that recycled cardboard goodness for years and have never quite managed it. 

We are never in short supply of The Box around here because Connor's g-tube supplies arrive every month neatly packaged in four large brown cartons made out of 100% pure hilarious entertainment.  Connor used to be only marginally interested in The Box, but all of the sudden his eyes were opened to the wonders contained within and he couldn't get enough of it.  Now for a large portion of the afternoon on delivery day, this is what you'll see in our household:



That little finger-curling hand motion you see him make with his right hand each time before The Box descends upon his head is his sign for "want," by the way.  Connor must have worried that the ear-piercing shrieks of excitement weren't going to tip us off. 

So until I take out the recycling, all of those toys, games and developmental activities can stay in Connor's room.  Right now The Box is here, and Connor is over the moon about it.

I'll do anything for a chance to hear that little squeaky bicycle-wheel laugh.

~Jess

In Which I Think About Sylvie

Today I went to the army post with Connor for a meeting, which ended up canceled.  Since we were already out there anyway, I stopped by the local Target.  I ended up walking out with a cute little cooking set and a Legos kit-- both for Sylvie.

Yes, I know we won't be traveling to get her for another year, and it's way, way too early to be buying toys for her.  But it gives me a way to feel connected to her; I can imagine her playing with her cooking set in the kitchen beside me while I cook on the stove.  I can picture Jeremy helping her build all sorts of fantastic Lego creations.  She'll be of an age when she gets home for imaginative play-- something she may never have had the chance to do in the orphanage-- and I can't wait to teach her all about it.

Actually, it's hard to wait in general.  We're in the process right now of getting all of our dossier paperwork together to send to Thailand, and there's no telling how long the process will take once all of that paperwork is over there.  While I understand that the many, many forms are all necessary and the process, while slow, is important to make sure that the adoption is in Sylvie's best interest, it's still frustrating to know that it will probably be more than a year before we travel to bring her home. 

You know how when you are expecting a baby, suddenly you start noticing babies everywhere?  Moms will know exactly what I'm talking about here.  Well, I'm doing that with five year old girls.  All of the sudden they're popping up everywhere, and while watching them interact with their parents, it's hard not to wonder what Sylvie is doing right now. There's a fourteen hour time difference between Thailand and Washington, so right about now she'd probably be eating lunch.  She doesn't know we exist yet, and she probably won't learn about us for at least another nine or ten months, but there's not a day that goes by that I don't think about her. 

So I'll put the toys I got for her today up in the large plastic bin I'm storing in the closet of what will be her room.  Every once in a while, when it seems like we'll never get through this process, I open the closet door.  I bring the bin down and look through the things in there: my old paper doll collection, a miniature wooden bed with clothespin posts, art supplies, a beloved Chinese baby doll that was mine as a girl.  And for just a little while, as I sit with the toys in my lap, I can forget how many months stretch out before we'll get the chance to meet our precious daughter. 

I can't wait to meet her.

~Jess

In Which Connor Rocks Out

We are never, ever doing a "Fun With Music" weekly theme ever again.

I'm not sure I will still retain my sanity by the time the week is out. This is because Connor has decided that the super-fancy keyboard, which came in the Theme Box of The Week, is his favorite toy ever in the history of the universe. Basically he has decided that he loves it more than any other toy in the world, and my increasingly frantic attempts to replace it with something else that is less annoying have met with complete and utter failure.

I mean, it's really cute, for the first twenty minutes or so. Cute in a loud and extremely violent fashion, anyway. The first thing he does is turn one of the percussion buttons on; you know, the kind that is labeled "salsa" or "funk" and that is supposed to provide a background beat for the music you play. Then he starts smashing the keys with his hands and (if he wants more precision) his elbows. Finally he begins emitting ear-piercing shrieks of excitement at pitches that at the lower volumes make the glasses in our kitchen vibrate and at the higher volumes also vibrate my teeth. When it becomes too much work to smash the keys down, he picks two notes, usually in the highest register and right next to one another, and leans on them for about five minutes. Then after taking this refreshing break, he smashes his elbows down on random buttons near the percussion area until he gets a new rhythm to emerge.  This inspires more incredibly enthusiastic musical carnage. Rinse and repeat. For hours.

Yes, I know that I am his parent, and about 8 times bigger than him and also equipped with functional opposable thumbs and limbs that all operate in the manner originally intended, so I could easily take it away from him and make him play with another toy. But he's so darn happy and excited about the thing, and I've been dealing with a lethargic, grumpy, attempting-to-die-on-me child for the past two weeks, so I don't really have the heart to do it. Yes, I also know that I'm probably spoiling him horribly-- not to mention running the risk of possibly shattering my eardrums, glassware, and tooth enamel-- but I'm just so thrilled that he's actually vocalizing and acting like his usual happy self again that I can't help but give in. So I'll suffer through his epic, multi-hour "concerts" with a grin on my face for the week, and then at the end of it I'll take the box back to the library and save checking it out only for very, very special occasions like when someone else is watching him and I am far, far away. Preferably in Bermuda. With chocolate.

Anyway, I'll try and get some video tomorrow, so you can see part of the adorable, nails-on-chalkboard performance!


~Jess

In Which Li Li Gets A Pretty Palatable New Friend, And Connor Tries Out An iPad

So today went a bit better, I'm happy to say. 

Connor was a total crabby pants, but that may have been because instead of paying attention to him this morning, I was watching our new gerbil (who is as yet unnamed) and our old gerbil (Li Li)attempt to dig through the mesh divider I've set up in their cage so they can happily settle down to the business of fighting to the death, which is what gerbils do when they meet a "stranger."  Vicious little things, gerbils.  At any rate, I'll be rotating which side of the cage their staying on daily until their scents are mixed enough that they stop trying to kill one another and decide to be pals. Supposedly it usually takes about a week, but we'll see.  Signs that they're starting acclimate will include attempting to groom one another through the mesh, sleeping next to one another, and when Li Li quits trying to season our new gerbil with pepper and miniature lemon wedges. 

At any rate, Connor did fine this morning but I believe that the novelty of the new gerbil quickly wore off, and then he wanted to go play something instead of watching me frantically add more wire to the top of the divider to prevent Li Li from climbing over the top in an aerial pursuit of his dinner.  I mean new friend.  Yes.  But for Connor pretty much after 11:00 it was one giant meltdown after another, with a brief hiatus for Speech Therapy, where he did relatively well.  It was probably the gerbil combined with the seizure of yesterday and the fact that he didn't sleep well last night-- he cheered up considerably after his three hour nap late this afternoon.

Julie, our Speech Therapist, brought out a new toy for him to try out today-- an iPad!  They have a number of adaptive applications -- Robert Rummel-Hudson has discussed the topic much more elegantly than I'd probably put it-- and the thought was that Connor was more likely to do well with an iPad than a PECS system because there's less touching and manipulating to do.  We put up a cute little xylophone application for him just to get him used to using his hands to work it, and he caught on really quickly!  I'm pretty stoked; the iPad or another AAC might just end up being a fantastic way for Connor to communicate with those around him that don't understand his Home Signs-- the personal language he's made up with his limited motor skills.  So we're going to see how this goes.

Technology is awesome!

In Which Connor's a Stylin' Kid

Connor finally went back to school today! 

He actually didn't miss that many days because there was no school Friday and Monday due to President's Day, and he always has Wednesdays off.  So all in all it wasn't a bad week to miss; he was only absent three days.  I think he was pretty happy to be back at school; he's been rather bored sitting around the house, and I haven't had a lot of time to play with him because I've been busy packing.

I hauled a huge load of stuff over to the Goodwill today; a lot of Connor's old clothes that don't fit him any more were in there, as well as toys that he's grown out of developmentally (and I can't tell you how excited I am to be able to say that he's grown out of some toys developmentally!).  I almost always donate our things to Goodwill rather than trying to sell them at a consignment shop because of all of the work the store does to help people who have various disabilities; I feel like that's a cause I can really get behind. 

I did end up having to throw some of Connor's old clothes away, though, because they were past saving.  Other moms I know with typical children talk all the time about how their kids outgrow their clothing a mere month or two after they buy it so it doesn't get a lot of wear and tear, but that's not the case in our household.  Because Connor is growth restricted, he grows very, very slowly.  Currently he's at the bigger end of 2T clothes, and the kid will be four in April.  Granted, it's not like he's running through the mud or snagging them on things while climbing or something, but he makes up for that by drooling and throwing up on them all the time.  We generally go through two or three outfits in a typical day and four to seven on a day he's sick.  All that washing and chocolate pediasure eventually just wears them out. 

I'm going to be happy when he's on the next size up, because I keep seeing all of these cute clothes I want to get him and there's no room in his closet right now. 

I always shop for myself at the thrift store because in my mind it seems ridiculous to pony up eighty dollars for a pair of jeans with holes in the knees when I can get them, already distressed in the appropriate places, for seven bucks at the aforementioned Goodwill.  Somehow all my common sense goes out the window when it comes to Connor's clothes, though.  Despite the fact that at the children's clothing boutiques the kid's shirts are the same price as mine but are made of a third of the material, I can't resist buying him the latest styles even as expensive as they are.  Or at least any of the latest styles that have a monster or a dinosaur on it.  I'm a sucker for monsters and dinosaurs.  Also pirates.  Yarr!

So because I don't ever want to spend any money on clothes for myself but spend it on Connor's clothes all the time, and also because half the time I don't bother to put on makeup or do my hair when we go out, it probably looks a little odd when we're together.  Kind of like I'm the hired stroller pusher and he doesn't pay me nearly a large enough salary.  I'm pretty sure that would change if monster and dinosaur shirts come into fashion for women my age.  Then I'd give Connor a run for his money.

I think I'd make a pretty awesome pirate, too.

~Jess

In Which Jer Discovers A New Way To Annoy The Cats*

Thank you so much to the wonderful, person who read on here that Jer "can't reach anything and doesn't even have a table at which to eat," and promptly left a laptop table and a reaching tool on our doorstep!

The table is now firmly ensconced in his lap with his computer atop it, and Jeremy is having all sorts of fun figuring out which things he can pick up and manipulate with his reaching tool. He wants to rig some sort of mounting system on the wheelchair for it so that he can carry it around with him all the time-- it's a big hit and will no doubt prove very useful. So whoever you are, thank you again from Jeremy, Connor and me!


The cats do not thank you, however.





~Jess





*No cats were harmed in the making of this blog. Though if Loki doesn't quit pawing at my surge protector in order to reset the computer and cause the printer to make those interesting noises, I may seriously consider it. I mean it Loki-- stay away from my computer. Crazy cat.

Look Out-- Connor The Fireman Riding Through!

Connor got a bit of sun today, so I think we'll be staying cool and indoors tomorrow. We caught the second half of a birthday party, and I neglected to bring any sunscreen for the little guy. I borrowed some once I noticed he was getting pink, but he burns in about five minutes, so it was already too late. He didn't burn too badly, though-- mostly he was just tired and ready for bed when we got home. It's so cloudy around here most of the time that it's easy to forget about things like that.

He picked up this spiffy fireman's hat at the party. Doesn't he look handsome?

Other big news today-- we went out and bought him his first tricycle and a helmet to go with it. It's a shiny red Radio Flyer with streamers on the handlebars: everything else had Dora the Explorer or various Disney characters plastered all over it, and you know how I am about that sort of thing. (I haven't had a television that gets reception-- not even basic channels-- for over ten years now, to give those of you who don't know me personally some idea of what I'm talking about. I do have an entire room devoted to nothing but books, however. My children are doomed to be hopelessly uncool.) We'll be taking Connor's new wheels down to Good Samaritan some time next week to have them modified so he can eventually ride on his own. I can't believe that he's big enough to even fit on a tricycle, let alone ride it on his own-- it doesn't seem possible that he's growing up that quickly!

Now that he has both a fireman's hat and transportation, he can dash off to help whenever he deems the cats need assistance, such as when they're sleeping in the middle of the floor. We barely managed to restrain ourselves from getting him the really loud squeaky horn, too, but ended up figuring that him running over the cats' tails repeatedly would probably be torture enough for them-- no need to add extremely loud scary noises to the mix. Sound the alarm-- Connor's coming to the rescue!

~Jess

Well, It Works...

This is what happens when your child gets bored with spinning his animal ball with his hands and decides to improvise.

Silly kiddo.

~Jess

Rockin' Out!

We had a relatively quiet day today, which was nice. Connor hung out in the kitchen with me and played with one of his new birthday toys while I did the dishes. He really likes the blue key on the keyboard with this toy-- probably because it's the closest one to his right hand-- so "playing" consisted of banging that one key over and over and over again as hard as he could. Then he'd stop and yell at the top of his lungs for a few seconds before banging on it again. It was a very spirited performance. Cricket thought there was something horribly wrong with him every time he yelled, so she'd run up to me and start frantically trying to get my attention. I think she was either convinced he was in severe pain and very concerned about it, or else she's a music critic and didn't like his rendition of "Brahms' Lullaby," which is what the blue key plays when you push it. Exciting.

~Jess