The object of her affection

I was just going through some files on my computer and found this gem of a video, taken a few days after Christmas (you'll see the clutter that rapidly accumulates when we're on "vacation").  Maya and Parker were like little magnets---they kept separating only to get pulled back together.  I started filming, and by the end Dave and I were nearly in tears (you'll hear it). 

In fairness, it should be noted that Parker & Maya play like brother and sister (or 2 puppies, whichever analogy you prefer).  In this video, she's playing the role of the instigator, but there are other days when he follows her around, nudging her or bumping her to play.  (He's very smart around her---you can see a few times in the video where he moves slightly away (she has a habit of falling suddenly) and other times when he just freezes and stays still and kind of absorbs her weight.)

You have to admit they're pretty cute together.







If you're new around here, go back to April 2010 and you can read about (and see) when we got Parker.  He's a standard poodle, and we got him to be Maya's service/therapy dog.  Once she started walking, he shifted from training for service dog to remaining a therapy dog.  He's worked with her during sessions, and is just an emotional (and sometimes physical) companion for her, and for us.

Every kid needs to romp in a big pile of leaves

This is Maya's first walking fall.  Free from the constraints of the stroller (sometimes) she's prone to picking up sticks, rocks, clumps of dirt . . . whatever catches her eye.  On Saturday morning Maya was walking in front of our building, stopping every other step to pick up a leaf.  She was a leaf hoarder---using one hand to smush a growing pile against her coat, using the other to grab new leaves from the ground.

And then we realized that she's never gotten to play in a big pile of leaves.

"Big pile of leaves" is a fall tradition in the suburbs.  It's possibly the most fun part of fall for kids, jumping and rolling, shuffling and kicking and throwing and tunneling through a freshly raked pile.  We called my parents in NJ, asking the rather ridiculous question, "Hey, do you guys have any leaves?"  My dad said that he'd make a big pile for Maya, we grabbed some stuff---and Parker--and headed out.

This is a very big pile of leaves. 

And I can touch them all?!

When Parker sees that Maya is holding leaves, he likes to go and pull them out of her hand.  She may have taught him this by shoving random things in his mouth and then laughing when he takes them and spits them on the ground :)

 Parker, you're takin' all my leaves!  Silly doggie.

Rearranging the pile.

 Doling out leaves to Grandma and her next door neighbor

 Parker likes soccer.  Who knew?

 That, my friends, is a happy girl.

I couldn't resist.

Parker!  Stop takin' my leaves!

*special thanks to Dave, who is letting me upload pictures despite the fact that he's in desperate need of a haircut.

Our favorite partners-in-crime:

This picture of Maya & Parker is so cute that a friend of mine wrote on my FB wall, "Hey, you should enter that picture into this photo contest!"  and I thought "Um, I don't want to be that vote-for-this-cute-picture-of-my-kid" person.

Then I saw the prize.  $1,000 to the photo that gets the most votes between today and Sunday. 

And I thought about the appointment that we have a Yale next week---meeting with a new geneticist---we have hopes that this might actually be the first step on the road to a diagnosis.  For real.  Of course, it's not covered by insurance.

And I thought about the communication device and/or apps that we're hoping to get.  A little photo prize money, well, it would be mighty nice. 

Voting starts today---you can go to this link to vote.  1 vote per person, per day. 

Thanks you. 

Maya gets a tent

Last week we ran into Maya's former OT (from EI) and she was like "Wait here!  I've had a present for you guys in the trunk of my car for 2 months!"  We waited and she returned with a tent.  I knew Maya was going to flip out---she loves tents.  We drape blankets over the top of her crib and pretend she is in a tent and she can't get enough of it.

The next day, after school, we put the tent together (which was nice and easy--thanks, IKEA), Maya gleefully squealing next to me as it went up.  She dragged her word book inside and insisted that I close the flaps, so she could have some privacy.

I sat on the floor, listening to the ripriprip of velcro as she played with her PECs, arranging and rearranging and making little happy noises.  She didn't want me to open the flaps.  It was kind of boring.  Finally, I convinced her to let me open them up by suggesting that Parker join her in the tent.  "Pa!" she agreed.

This is the best!  Me & Pa in the tent!

Parker was less enthused.  Being confined in a little tent with only one escape route and an overzealous hugger is not his idea of the best time.  His survival instincts are too strong.  After a few minutes, I gave him permission to leave and he made a hasty exit.

Then Maya realized the best part of the tent---you can knock it over.  This was an accidental discovery, but a happy one.

She would throw herself backwards to knock it over, laying on her back and looking and the stripes and kick-kick-kicking her legs to her heart's content.  Then she would sit up, righting the tent, and throw herself backwards to do it again.

Here's a (pretty grainy, low quality) cell phone video where you can see her delighting in the knock-over-the-tent game:

Separation anxiety has its perks

The past two days, boarding the bus has not been pretty.

The bus pulls down the street.

"Maya!  Look!   Your school bus is coming!"  (Smiles, wiggles in my arms, giving me a big hug).

The bus stops and we approach.

"Are you going to ride the bus like a big girl?! To school?!  Oh, you're going to have so much fun!"  (Smiles, giggles, wiggles)

I go to hand her over to the bus matron.

(PANIC.  She clings to me.  She starts to cry.  I'm a mess of untangling the four limbs that she's wrapped tightly around me, attempting to hand her heavy self--as she's now gone totally limp---over.  She alternates between floppy and stiff in an attempt to not get buckled into her seat.)

I wave and blow kisses and then turn and walk away.  I feel like staying to watch is just more painful (for both of us).  Sigh.

So, that's not fun.

The upside of all of this is that she's totally loving me right now.  Absence has made her little heart grow fonder---and while I used to be a given, a constant presence, now I'm suddenly special.  Desired.  Dave & I were playing with her last night, and she kept coming over to hug me.  Me!  She's always been a daddy's girl and suddenly she just wants mama.  I'm not going to lie, it's kind of nice.

I know it won't last forever.  I also know that it's probably embarrassingly egotistical to find separation anxiety flattering, but I don't care :)

She's a happy girl getting off the bus and coming to play with me.  And Parker, too.  I've taken him down to pick her up a few times and it's adorable.  Yesterday Dave was home by drop-off time too, so I was able to get a little video of their after-school reunion:

A girl and her dog (and last day for the giveaway!)

How about a little Maya-Parker love on this gorgeous Monday afternoon?

One of the sweetest things about returning from our vacation 2 wks ago was the reuniting of Maya and Parker (who had spent the week at my in-laws).  Maya spends a lot of time petting him, hugging him, and giving him kisses . . . and he spends a lot of time being very patient :)  He seeks her out, too---bumping her with his nose, bringing her his toys, etc.  Getting her a dog was possibly the best thing we've done for her :)

Check out the video (taken from my phone---sorry for the quality) from this morning.  You'll want the volume on to hear all of her giggles, which escalate when he decides to throw in some little barks.  2 notes:  1.  Although you can see his mouth opened a little at times, know that he's extrememly gentle with his nose/mouth/teeth  2.  Maya's hugs are not usually quite so vigorous. 



How sweet is it that he wrestles out of her hug just to turn and lick her nose?!


Today is your last chance to enter the Leapfrog Letter Factory DVD giveaway!   Winner will be picked & posted tomorrow evening----you can enter up to 5 times, go check it out!


Also, next week I'm taking Maya to see the geneticist to have a new test done.  I've got some thoughts on that, but no time to sort through them just yet.  We're too busy enjoying the last throes of summer (and some beautiful post-hurricane weather) to get too serious at the moment.  Summer fun now, deep thoughts later.

Oh, you're my best friend*

This morning Dave took Parker for a walk and came back with a park bench.  A mini park bench.  He found it in the trash, grabbed it up, and brought it home, just like any good dad would do.  And Maya liked it :)

My new bench!

Parker likes it too . . .

Parker, I've got an idea.  Let's take some pictures with my new bench!

 Maya, sit still please.

Parker!  Stay still!

Everybody stay still!  Maya, this is not funny!  Stop laughing and be serious.

Oh, you are such a ham.

I'm gonna put my feet up like Parker's!

Just me, my best friend, and my new bench :)

Maya: (clap! clap! clap!) This is so much fun!

Parker: I'm outta here.

I give Parker treats when he's a good doggie :)

(Did you figure out that the titles with the *'s are song lyrics?  I thought that was the easiest way to show which ones are lyrical---like today's Queen quote---and which ones are just me.)

Here we come, walking down the street (for real!)*

Back in November I had a similarly titled post, in which Maya got to "walk" Parker from her stroller.  It was very cute. (Parker looks so much smaller in that video, by the way.)

But you know what's cuter than that?

Maya really walking Parker.  She's on her 2 feet, he's on his 4 feet, and she's in charge (for better or worse).  (Parker is clearly not convinced that we're actually letting her be in charge.  He keeps shooting me glances like, "Really?  Just stick totally with her?  You don't want me to heel to you?")



Although Maya seemed pretty confident that she could open the door herself, I thought I should help her out.  So here we were after we made it inside:  (This one is long, but there are many cute moments, so I'm not cutting it down.)



The best parts:
0:30, when she sits at the window and kicks up her feet.  Too cute.
0:40, when she calls Parker because he's starting to wander off.  Show him who's in charge!
0:45, when I tell her to tell Parker to sit, and she stands up and holds up 1 finger---that's our "sit" signal :)
0:51, when she suddenly decides that it's time to move along (because, as it turns out, she remembered that on the walk home we told her we would get the mail when we got home)
1:26, because falling down is no big deal.
1:42, when she's just pulling him along on an adventure, and the size comparison of him walking behind her makes it look like she's leading a pony out to a field somewhere.

I guess the whole thing is pretty darn adorable :)

Nightswimming*

(Actually, day swimming.  But if I write Nightswimming then the REM song starts in my head and I love having that song playing in my head, so I'm keeping it.)

We've had two days of oppressive heat & humidity here . . . what better day to re-join the pool?  As a suburb girl, I'm a fan of the outdoor summer pool---but here in our neighborhood the indoor one turned out to be cheaper (and it has longer hours, and includes a gym membership----how is that even possible?) . . . regardless,  we'll be hanging out (indoor) poolside this summer.

Before we could leave for the pool I told Maya "We have to take Parker out to go potty" and I went to find my sunglasses . . . when I turned around, she was holding the leash!

Is this what you're looking for, Mom?

Parker!  Stay still!  Don't eat the leash!  We have to get this on so quick . . . mama said she's takin' me to the pool!

Who cares if the leash isn't on?!  Let's go!

Fun times were had by all at the pool.  I took some pictures on my phone to text to Dave (in a sharing-the-cuteness way, not a you're-at-work-and-we're-at-the-pool way):

This was "Maya, make a silly face!"

This was "Maya, smile!"  Maybe we need to work on making a smiling face.

The most amazing part of the pool visit was this sign:

 3 FEET DEEP

We were hanging out by the stairs and Maya was furiously pointing at it and making noises (the girl loves letters).  Just for kicks, I took her over and said Where's the E? and she pointed at one of the E's. 

Where's the D? Got it. 

Where's the P? Right again.

Where' the 3? Pointed at it, and then held up 3 fingers (like we taught her for her birthday).

Holy crap.

She's such a little sponge, just constantly soaking things up.  I haven't been doing any sort of focused letter stuff with her, other than watching Leapfrog Letter Factory once or twice a week and singing the song from it.  I haven't been showing her the letters (and certainly not the numbers).  But I will be now :)

 Daddy, when I'm done swimming I get to wear a pretty dress and pink sandals!!!

I tried to get a picture of her in the dress when we got home, but all I got were a bunch of shots that look like this:

She's too quick :)  (How great is that to say?!)  It's not quite running, but it's some sort of if-you-walk-any-faster-you'll-certainly-land-on-your-face pace, and I love it.  I love the fact that sometimes I have to do a few little joggy steps to get to her :)

And a quick post-hospital update . . .

True to form, Maya's still a little off from the anesthesia/hospital experience.  I feel like biologically it shouldn't last this long, but it seems to always take her a solid 2-3 days before she's totally back---she's taking longer naps, going to bed earlier, and trying to quit her therapy sessions midway through by employing the I-just-need-a-hug tactic on her therapists (with varying degrees of success).

As for me, I've spent the past two days exchanging dozens of emails with a good friend who happens to be a pediatric research audiologist in LA.  I made sure to get a tiny bit of data on Tuesday that I could feed to her, and based on that she created a graph to teach me the basics of hearing threshold data.  When I wondered about the reality of hearing aids, she sent me pictures of the pediatric aids from her center.  When I asked about the process of making Maya's hearing aids, she sent me a detailed play-by-play of how they create the new hearing aids where she works, what to expect at the appointments, and the brand and model number that her coworkers recommend based on Maya's case history.  When I started to struggle and question the validity of the findings (more on this some other time, but considering that we've already had one ABR that I don't trust, how can I be 100% certain of this one?) she consulted with some more people on her end and passed along the consensus of their thoughts.  Since Tuesday we've traded 22 emails, several of which included pdfs that she made to teach me about things. 

And she's another one of my internet friends. 

Another one that I've never met.  

We did have one telephone conversation a few weeks ago---helping me figure out if the sedated ABR was a good next step or more-than-what-was-necessary.  But other than that, she's a message board/Facebook/email friend.  Seriously, I'm so happy to live in this age of internet networking---where I can meet intelligent, wonderful women who have a great impact on my life.  

Thanks, Amy :)

A girl and her dog

Two cute Maya & Parker moments from the past week:

Maya's eating has been bad again.  Combine poor eating skills with the terrible two's (or 3's) and we've had some projectile food recently.  And when you have projectiles, you sometimes have casualties:

Is Maya evilly rubbing her hands together?

 Direct hit!  There's a meatball chunk right next to Parker's body (and some ketchup on him, although you can't see it) . . . and another meatball chunk about a foot away.

I'm not allowed to eat it, so I might as well go back to sleep.

And a day or two later . . . 

Mommy, this is my doggie!

Parker, I have to tell you a secret.

Ok, now you tell me a secret!

A kiss for my buddy.

And a snuggle, too.

Did you see our big giveaway?!  Enter, enter, enter!  You can have up to 4 entries.  Even if you're not a parent of a child with special needs, you may know someone (a parent, a teacher, a therapist, etc) who would love to receive a thoughtful gift.  (If you don't feel comfortable entering on their behalf, send along the link!)

Any other questions for me?  I've gotten several and will likely be writing the post later this week.

The making of the Best Holiday Card Ever

Here's your behind the scenes look at the holiday card shoot (these were taken the last week in November).

Dave and I traded off with the camera and staging duties---it's surprisingly complicated to get a toddler and a puppy to simultaneously cooperate.  Add in some wet paint, and it's (literally) a messy situation.  (The paint was black fingerpaint--totally nontoxic, washed right out, and I'm not sure if he even knew it was there, so no animal rights hate mail.)

Did you know that you can click on any picture to make it bigger?  So don't squint and hurt your eyes :)

Setting the scene-in the living room (the backdrop is our comforter draped over our couch):

Parker is clearly enthused and ready to begin.

Me: Parker!  Get in there!

Maya: Parker!  Let's go!

Parker: I don't think I like this.

Ok, guys, come on-perk up!   Pay attention!

Um, not like that.  That's too children-of-the-corn.

Maya's starting to get into it.  Add the paintbrush!

Hold it like this, Daddy?

Parker: I don't like the look of that paintbrush.

 

Maya: I think I could do some serious damage here.  (Is it me or does the way she's holding the brush totally scream "Psycho"?)

 

Ok, Maya, paint your Parker.

THIS IS SO MUCH FUN!  I CAN'T EVEN STAND IT!

I love this day!

And then things took an  . . . um, unexpected turn.

Hope your holidays don't stink!  :)