Like the wind

Maya's progress is . . . interesting.  Not typical, not quick, not slow and steady . . . it's often invisible---but wind is invisible too, and that doesn't make it any less real.  Her progress is a secret---I'm never quite sure what she's observing, what she's learning, what her inner narrative is. Internally, I imagine that she's learning new things and making new connections everyday, but externally the growth comes in fits and starts----nothing, nothing, nothing, then suddenly something new.

And in the past week we've had 2 big somethings new.

First, Maya said Mommy. As you may imagine, hearing it after 4.5 years is a pretty sweet sound.  Prior to this she could say "Mama" (and "Daddy"---of course that came first, because she adores her daddy) but not Mommy.  Suddenly, a weekish ago, her mouth just . . . cooperated. 

They had a field trip to Santaland that day.

Second, she can spell her name, which is pretty great. It's another indication that reading and writing will come, which is simply invaluable for a kid who won't be able to speak so clearly for a while. All the cool kids text instead of talking anyway, right?  (She needs some scaffolding with her name still, but it will come independently, soon I think.)





And, just so that we keep things balanced, here's a picture of Will that I took this morning :)

11.5 weeks old, making his own progress during tummy time.

 

 

 

The start of the school and a busload of problems

Maya is back at school and loving it!

Well, mostly.

School started last Thursday.  On Tuesday I called the new bus company and found out that her pick-up time was 2 hours before school started.  Yikes.  They seemed confident that the route would change.  I called the bus company back on Wednesday, realizing that they hadn't told me Maya's route number . . . and this time they told me that we had been deleted from the system and had no bussing.  So then I called the school, who told me that we definitely had bussing.  Ty also were confident that major changes were going to be made, as many of the routes seemed to criss cross around the city.  I learned that rather than letting the bus companies handling the routing, the DOE had taken over the process.  Of course . . . that makes total sense. 

We decided to drive Maya on Thursday & Friday, after hearing that the buses would likely be re-routed over the weekend.    Here are a few first day pics:

Double-checking her backpack while we waited in the lobby

As soon as she hit her new classroom she ran right to the garage toy, pulled out the buses, and started driving them around.  Poor kid is having some bus withdrawal.

 



Thursday and Friday afternoon brought some major meltdowns as Maya was desperate to get on the bus rather than having to go in the car with me.  She didn't care that I was trying to rescue her from the 2.5 hour trip home (yep, seriously) . . . she wanted the BUS.  We heard that the buses were being re-routed over the weekend and the trips on Monday should be more smooth, so we psyched her up, saying "Your bus isn't ready yet, but it will come on Monday!"

All weekend, we talked about the bus. This morning we marched outside and waited.  And waited.  And waited.  The waiting didn't bother me much, because I kept thinking good--this means our new pick-up time is later-that's great news!  But after 90 minutes we gave up and headed into the school in the car (Maya was bribed with chocolate milk and a movie . . . by that point she was tired of waiting, too).  I dropped her off at school only to learn that the buses weren't there, the routes still seemed to be a mess, and maybe I should come back for her this afternoon? 

And so . . .instead of working or nesting or doing much of anything productive, I'm getting ready to drive back into the city and pick up a very angry 4 yr old who will rage against getting in my car.  I'm so bummed that we told her she would be on the bus today and have to break our word. I'm thinking it will be an ice cream afternoon. 

(This is a big, bad city-wide issue right now, with several stories appearing in the paper and on the radio about the obscenely long routes for these preschoolers.  I can only hope that hopefully that means it will be dealt with more quickly.)

There's a silver lining, though.

Bus aside, the school year is off to a great start.  Maya loves her new class, which is a bit larger and has less adult helpers . . . I was a little bit nervous about the transition, but she's doing great.  I thought that she might try to run away to her old class, but she hasn't---an aide even took her there to visit and say hi, and she left without a peep when it was time to go.

The new teacher and new speech therapist seem great, interested, caring, and open to learning all about her talker and how to incorporate it.  (Whew!)   When the important stuff is going so well, it's hard to lose (too much) sleep over something like the bus.  I sure hope that they get this squared away soon, though.  You know, like before this baby is arriving.

Learning new things & saying new things

I'm back from the ISAAC conference. My head is swimming with ideas and my notepad is full of things to transcribe.  More than just specific ideas, I feel like my way of thinking about AAC has sharpened . . . instead of feeling like "just a mom" floundering as I try to incorporate AAC into our lives, I now have more focus, have absorbed some concrete concepts about how to be increasingly deliberate in how I support Maya's use of her device, and - as a bonus- I got some validation, too. (For a novice, I seem to actually be on the right track.)  After I have the time (ha ha) to compile and process my notes I'll definitely be putting up a post (or several) about my main take-aways.  On a selfish note, I also got to listen to a bunch of the really big people in the field, and to meet a lot of people that I "know" from online.  Even though I may have scared some people with my hacking cough, it was a win-win-win for me.

Today was my first day back at home (I arrived back in the city late last night) and I was able to happily soak up a bunch of time with my family.  Maya's school notebook said that she was very talkative today at school, and sure enough she was chatty at home as well.  She took us all by surprise when she was using the talker to talk about days of the week (which she loves to talk about) and suddenly turned to us and said (with her mouth), "Monday."  Monday!  She's a big fan of Monday because it's the day after the weekend when she gets to ride the school bus and play with her friends at school, and tends to say it often with the talker.  But as far as a spoken word goes, the closest approximation that she's had to "Monday" prior to today was just "Mah." 

Suddenly, today . . . "Monday."

:)

To everything, there is a season (Big-Girl-Bed season just arrived over here)

A few months ago we moved Maya into a toddler bed.  Well, we didn't move her as much as we just took off the front wall of the crib and put the toddler bed rail on.  We called it a big girl bed and she was proud. 

The initial plan was to leave her in the toddler bed and get a new crib for the baby this fall, but that plan changed when we realized that our tall girl (she's over the 90th percentile for height on 4 yr olds) wasn't fitting in the toddler bed that well.  She constantly had limbs hanging over the edge of the bed, and often fell out onto the floor.  (To be fair, the assortment of alligators, books, princesses and plastic school bus that she takes to bed occupy significant space as well.)  So we adjusted the plan-we would get her a twin bed this summer, baby #2 would inherit her crib. 

Last week the plan was adjusted again---we shifted moving into a bed "sometime this summer" to moving into a bed ASAP, after seeing her sleeping standing up 3 days last week (her torso was laying in the bed, but her legs had fallen out so that her feet were on the floor).  That can't be conducive to restful sleep.  We took her mattress shopping (she thought that a store full of beds was basically the coolest thing ever) and by tonight she was ready. 

Yesterday the mattress arrived.  She warmly welcomed it with kisses.

I took a few sentimental last pictures of the room before the crib was gone.

Maya is an excellent assistant . . .

 . . . and a good cheerleader, too. 

She was so, so excited (thankfully, as I was nervous that she might be sad to see the crib go, despite her big girl bed enthusiasm).  Just when we thought she couldn't get any more excited, Dave went to bring in the new big mattress . . . and she just about fell over with delight.

My new big girl bed!!!!

In her new bed, my big girl looked kind of . . . little.  And alone.

So we loaded in her usual bedtime stuff.

 And added a safety rail.

She got busy setting up her princesses right away.

And tested out her new pillow, too.

And here she is, sound asleep.  The princesses are apparently set up to stand guard while she sleeps.  As are the alligators.  Obviously.

Sleep tight, big girl.

Rites of Passage-big and small, painful and exciting (and painful)

Yesterday morning I got a call from the school nurse.  The parents who have school-age kids likely clenched a little bit reading that sentence, as a call from the school nurse is never a great sign.

I heard her say "Hi, this is the nurse from Maya's . . . " and then my mom-hearing shifted as my ears found, and locked on, a noise in the background.  Maya was screaming, hysterical.  This is where my stomach dropped.

I heard her say that Maya had an accident at school, that she had fallen, and visions of broken bones flashed through my head.  I was simultaneous relived and sad-for-Maya when the nurse said that she had split her chin open a bit, that it was bleeding and kind of deep and I needed to come in.  I spun around the apartment, kind of frantically gathering snacks, drinks, favorite toys, trying to figure out what I would need to keep us happy (well, as happy as possible) at the hospital.  Once I was in the car I started making phone calls: Dave, the pediatrician, etc.  We decided to go straight to the emergency room (our ped will do simple stitches, but I didn't want to get there and find out that her cut was out of his league.  In retrospect, this was absolutely the right decision, since we ended up needing some major hospital muscle involved.)

Upon reaching the school I was reassured by Maya's happy face.  She was quite content watching cartoons and having lunch with the nurse.  Her teeth and mouth were fine (sigh of relief) and her chin was bandaged.  I learned that she had been walking to the gym at school and just tripped, forgetting to break her fall with her hands and going right down on her chin.  Poor thing.  (Funnily enough, my first set of stitches were in the exact same place, when I was 18 months old or so.  And yes, I said first set.  I've been stitched many-a-time.) 

We got to the ER and were seen pretty quickly.  A numbing gel work its magic as we watched cartoons, and then she got all wrapped up for the numbing shots and stitching (the cut was too wide for glue).  She screamed and screamed and wrestled like an alligator, actually working her way out of the papoose at one point and needing to be re-wrapped.  I sang and told stories and was in charge of her legs, laying across them as I held her hands.  When I initially laid across them the doctor thought I was going to pass out, but I told her that my weakness was my lack of upper body strength, not a queasiness.  I watched the stitches go in (4 of them), learned how to apply the dressing, and we were on our way.  Poor Maya was beyond exhausted.

Here she is this morning, my tough girl:

That's not saran wrap on her chin, it's a plastic adhesive dressing over the gauze and ointment and stitches.

The internal parts of the stitches will dissolve over the next week, and I'll pull any remaining knots next week.  Good times. 

And while yesterday brought Maya through the First Stitches rite-of-passage, I marked a milestone of my own on Monday, albeit a less painful one.  I've registered to attend the ISAAC 2012 conference in July/August, booked my flights and hotel room and everything.  Milestones that will be observed: first AAC conference (actually, first professional meeting that's not related to my actual profession, teaching), first time away from Maya, first time flying while pregnant (eek).  This international conference hasn't been in the US in 12 years, so I'm seizing the opportunity, although I'll likely be kind of big and waddly by that point.  I think that there will be an amazing amount to learn, and I'm really excited to soak up as much as possible.  I'm kind of getting  passionate about AAC related stuff, and every time that I see Maya using different tools and strategies to communicate more effectively, I get more excited and enthusiastic.  I want to learn as much as I can.

The muss & fuss of independence

Two weeks ago I had a little meeting with Maya’s preschool teacher.  I went in just to warn her about a possible issue with an upcoming field trip . . . little did I know that she had some things to discuss with me, too.  If I could sum up her points in one sentence, it would be this:  Maya is smart and capable, but stubborn and kind of a pain in the butt.

(Not that she would ever say that, of course.  I’ve taken license of parental rephrasing.)

Here are some examples:  Maya is capable of walking, and climbing stairs with support, but often refuses.  If it’s time for the class to transition to a different room and Maya doesn’t want to walk, she will simply sit on the floor like a stubborn puppy (with a sly smile).  She is capable of taking her coat off (alone) and putting it on (with assistance), but if she doesn’t feel like complying it takes some serious wrestling maneuvers (which she will either giggle or scream throughout, mood depending).  She can feed herself with a fork (I’ve seen her do an entire waffle without help) or her fingers, but it’s rare that she eats a meal independently, because she’s not really motivated.  If I stab the pieces and hand her the fork, maybe, but if I just leave the plate and fork on her tray she’ll play happily and ignore it until I start feeding her.

The teacher thinks that Maya would be able to keep up with a larger class next year, academically speaking. “She’s so smart” she tells me, and I smile on the outside and on the inside cheer I know, right?! That’s what I’ve thought, too!  But even with a one-to-one, she wouldn’t be able to swing it in a larger class right now because “her behavioral issues are holding her back.”

Hee hee.

This all kind of cracked me up.  Clever, but stubborn and manipulative?  Well, I can relate to that, and get behind it, too.  I guess part of me was secretly (or not so secretly) pleased . . . I’ll take smart and naughty over the alternative, I think.

But another part of me was disappointed with myself.  While talking with the teacher about incentives and sticker charts and self-dressing and feeding and promoting independence a little voice started to whisper to me, It's you--you’re doing it. You’re underestimating her. You’re not pushing her.  You’re making things too easy.

It’s true.  It’s unintentional, but it’s true.

I guess I’ve been so focused on communication stuff that independence has been way on the back burner.  I like her to walk instead of getting carried, but if she refuses to move I pick her up.  Usually we’re rushing somewhere and I don’t have time for fighting.  If she’s not eating by herself, I pop a piece of something into her mouth, lest dinner take an hour and dissolve into a tantrum.  Dressing her, changing her, putting on her coat---these are just things that I’ve always done, quickly and efficiently.  How did I miss the fact that it was time to start turning over the reins?

Since I scraped myself off the floor after my stay in the airport, I’ve been confident that Maya will do whatever she wants to.  I was certain she would walk, and I’m sure that she will speak, too.  I’ve spent a lot of energy thinking about and working towards the big goals, and somehow overlooked when it would be time to teach her the small things. 

I think this must be a normal parenting stage—realizing that your child is able to do some of the stuff that you’ve been doing for them, pushing them to pull up their own pants or wash their own hands or whatever.  But the special needs component adds a layer of complexity, I think. First, because (in my mind, at least) I fiercely want Maya to be independent in as many age appropriate ways as possible, to eliminate as many differences between her and her peers as I can.  And secondly, because she will likely need more practice to master these skills.  Stubborn streak aside, her fine and gross motor issues will make some of these tasks more complicated for her than for other 3-4 year olds.  I have to give her the opportunities to practice and practice and practice.

Since this meeting we’ve had some changes, big and small.  She moved into the big girl bed (which was planned pre-meeting, but the timing was fortuitous).  She’s putting her coat on (with help) and taking it off.  She’s learning to climb into her stroller, and I’m encouraging her to climb onto the couch with me (Encouraging to climb? Madness!). She pulls her pants up and down (mostly) and we’re doing more verbal prompts to eat before offering assistance.  I’m trying to look at her with fresh eyes instead of seeing the little girl that I’m used to doing so much for.

And you know what?  It’s changing her.  She is so proud of herself for being a big girl, trying new things on her own.  The smile when she carries her coat over to her chair and puts it down by herelf is positively gleeful.  There is frustration, but not nearly as much as I had anticipated.

We’re supposed to be working on drinking from a cup and it hasn’t been happening much, mostly because she enjoys dumping cups of liquid more than trying to drink them.  But we’re going to try again today because in the end, the mess will have been worth it.*

*Someone remind me of this later this week when I’m complaining about cleaning up spilled milk, again.

Change is a-comin

Look what arrived today:

That is a toddler bed rail.  Friday night we're converting the crib to a toddler bed.  It's going to be epic.

Maya is now 3 years 8 months old.  She's a big girl.  We've held off on transitioning to a bed under the if it ain't broke don't fix it philosophy.  She loves her crib and she's a great sleeper: she goes in quitely (worst case scenario is a minute or two of fussing), sleeps through the night (11-12 hours), and plays quietly in her crib when she wakes up (we'll hear her chattering, but she'll just flip through books, etc). 

(Don't send hate mail.  We know we're lucky.)

But the time has come.  She's coyly started to lift her leg up when she's standing in the crib, in a hey-maybe-I'll-just-climb-right-out teasing way.  With her, um, lack of coordination any attemps at climbing would land in a very hard fall.  She's just hinting at the idea of scaling the crib, but we're going to nip it in the bud.

Also, and I hate to admit this, but the crib is starting to feel a little like lazy parenting on my part.  It's blessedly easy to have her contained, but she should move into a bed now.  We should Maya-proof her room, and she should learn how to climb out of bed and make us crazy, and she should get to get up in the morning and pull all of her books out of her bookcase and make a big mess.  That's what kids do.  It's only fair.

We're waiting until Friday night because Dave & Maya are both off from school for the next week . . . and if we're going to be losing sleep, then we're all going to lose sleep together, dammit.

We've got a lot of logistical issues to think through: where to stash the fan that runs in her room at night (away from little fingers) and how to hide the cords to the air purifier.  I need to get door locks for her clost (french doors) so that her fingers don't get pinched.  We've got to put down some mats or pillows because I've got a feeling that sooner or later she's going to plummet to the floor. 

The most puzzling question is the door status: she's always slept with the door to her room closed.  It's dark and noise blocking.  I feel like we should keep that consistent (because closed door = bedtime) but I know I'm going to want to be able to peek in on her, and to make sure that she's safe.  I'm thinking about getting a video monitor (we still use a regular baby monitor-with all of our fans and air purifiers I would never hear her without it) but I'm not sure if that's smart parenting or helicopter parenting.  (If I take the plunge and get one I bet we'll see some adorable footage, though.)

I can't wait to see what happens on Friday :)

 
 

We Are More Thankful Than You Are

(By "we" I mean parents of kids with special needs.  By "you" I mean parents of normal/ average/ typical kids.)

Ok, so thankfulness probably isn't supposed to be a competition.  And before parents of typical kids stop reading---or start sending hate mail---let me quickly say that for a few months I was a parent of a typical kid, and I sure was grateful.  I celebrated her first smile (right on track at 6 weeks), gleefully welcomed her first laughs (which we even have on video) and appreciated the heck out of my lovely, growing, happy, healthy baby girl.  Had some parent of a kid with special needs tried to tell me "We're more thankful than you are" I would have bristled like a porcupine, shot some eye daggers, and thought passive aggressive things.

But really, it's kind of true.

A parent of a typical child has the luxury of "taking things for granted"-a phrase so overused that it's worth taking a minute to really break that down.  In taking something for granted, one accepts something as a given or true, often without showing appreciation.  While all parents wonder and worry about the future of their child, the worries of a typical parent have an undercurrent of things-taken-for-granted.

• Will she get good grades?  Of course she'll recognize letters and numbers, and learn to read, and do math, and understand abstract ideas like weather and history.  And obviously, she will be able to hold a pencil and learn to write and sit in a desk and listen to the teacher (sometimes, anyway). 
• Will he play sports?   Of course he'll stand independently, and walk, and run, and jump, and climb stairs, and not need a walker or a wheelchair or a cane. 
• Will he be teased?  You know, not "when will he be teased" or "will he understand when he's being teased" or "will he ever have friends who will just accept him as he is" or "will he have the strength and resiliency to rise above the kids who tease him, because, oh yes, there will be kids who tease him."
• Will she get married?  Of course she'll have relationships and date and all that jazz.
• Will he go to a good college?  Will he stay on the path to college?  Of course he'll go through K-12 like everyone else, graduate high school and be college-ready, if that's the path he chooses.
• Will she make good friends or fall in with the wrong crowd?  Of course she'll have meaningful friendships and relate to other people and get phone calls from her friends and have sleepovers and hang out with people besides her mom and dad.

Parents of kids with special needs lose some of those things-taken-for-granted (some families may lose all of them, others may only lose select ones---like if their kid can walk and run just fine but may not interact with other kids).  Realizing that nothing is a given for your kid . . . not even the simple ability to someday say, "Hey Mom, what's for dinner?", well, it makes your heart implode. 

But then . . . over time . . . progress happens. 

When a new skill emerges you are thankful----and then you see that what you thought was truly "thankfulness" before was just a shadow of the real thing.  Like the way you think you've had good apples, but then you have one fresh from the tree and are like "Holy crap!  That's an apple!" or how you thought dial-up internet was perfectly great and then you got a modem and were like "Whoa---this is a whole different world!"

This is a whole different world.

Maya has been walking for nine months now, and to this day there has not been a single time that I've watched her walk/run down a hallway without think "I can't believe she's really doing it."  A week ago she started eating waffles by herself (she holds the fork in one hand and feeds herself with the other hand, but whatever) and it was the first time in 3.5 years that she's eaten a full meal by herself.  I didn't have to sit and feed her.  It was amazing. 

Walking down the hallway?  Eating a waffle?  These would, without a doubt, be things that my former self would have taken for granted from my typical child.   But I notice them, I celebrate them, I am thankful.

I am so thankful.

There are other things---stepping-stone-skills, I think---that are totally life altering for us.  When I first realized that Maya was learning to recognize letters, my entire world shifted.  If I were a typical parent, I might have thought:  Awesome---what a smart girl!  She's already learning letters.  Maybe she'll be an early reader, we could read stories together, etc

But as a special needs mom, seeing her recognize those first letters sent up a giant, shining, exploding firework-of-a-thought:  She will be able to read someday.  And then, not far behind:  If she can read, someday she will type . . . so even if she never talks, she will type and people will understand her. 

What a typical parent would mark as a stepping stone on the given-road-of-progress, I saw as a game changer. 

That difference brings with it a more profound level of thankfulness.  It just does.

2 years ago today, Maya had her brain MRI.  2 years ago tonight, we found out that her brain was normal.  2 years ago tomorrow, at the thanksgiving table, we were thankful for her normal brain . . . that's a profound level of thankfulness.

Yesterday we went to a "Thanksgiving Feast" at Maya's preschool.  The parents all came and brought food and sat with the kids and celebrated . . . and I noticed one of the moms excitedly chatting with the teachers and aides and watching something on the teacher's cell phone.  It was a video, taken by the teacher.  Earlier in the day, her son had taken his first unassisted steps.  Ever.  Her little guy has been kicking butt with his walker for a few months now, but yesterday he let it go and took a few steps.  And while we were there, he did it again, with both of his parents excitedly looking on.  He's almost 4 years old.

And I watched him take steps, and I watched his mom & dad watching him, for the first time, take independent steps and I thought about how lucky I was to get to watch that moment.  That moment that takes them from "I hope that someday he'll walk" to "He walked."  From hoping that someday he would be walker-free to seeing that there's a good chance.  From "Let's keep working towards independent steps" to "Let's work on more steps."

They are more grateful for those first steps than the parent of a typical child. That's just the way it is.

Happy Thanksgiving to everyone---near and far, old and young, typical and not-quite-as-typical.  For the parents of kids with special needs, I hope that you can look back over the past year and remember some of your own game-changing moments, big and small.  And for the parents of typical kids, I hope that you can look back at some of your stepping stone moments with fresh eyes and realize how much you have to be profoundly thankful for.
 

First time riding on the school bus!

Last Thursday was the first day of preschool---I drove Maya in, and picked her up at the end of the day.

On Friday, I drove her into school in the morning and she took the bus home at the end of the day.  Dave came home early and we waited together (semi-nervously) for the bus to arrive with our big, independent, bus-riding 3 year old.

Can you feel the excitement?

Dave had the video camera and I had the regular camera and we waited and waited . . . and then . . . 

IT WAS HERE!!!!

Wait.

No it wasn't.

That's cool.  Now we just look like crazy people who stand in front of our building and take pictures of school buses.  No big deal.

But a few minutes later . . .

That's it! For real! 

(Notice Dave---we have no shame, people.  We are the crazy first time parents who are documenting every moment.)

Look at her smiling little face!

She was surprised and happy to see us, and as the bus matron walked her out to me I could tell that she was happy, but confused.  Like, I'm home?  The bus brought me to Mommy and Daddy?  Wait, I'm getting off the bus now?

Dave took some video.  If you watch her expressions when she's in my arms, she kept looking towards the bus, like It's leaving?  Is that the end?  Is it coming back?  This whole thing is a little startling! (Also, I had spent the past 3 hours cleaning, so please forgive my no make-up'd, stringy hair-ed appearance.)

Tomorrow morning she'll be riding the bus both to and from school!  Truth be told, this is the first thing that I'm nervous about----I'm worried that she'll be scared and cry when I hand her off to the lady on the bus, and when she sees that I'm still outside when the bus pulls away :(  I hope she does ok.  I'll be anxiously awaiting her arrival in the afternoon so I can ask how it all went.

First day of preschool!

It was a great day :)

Things went down pretty much exactly the way I expected them to---Maya remembered the school & where her classroom was, and she just wanted to go!  We had to spend a few minutes in a conference room (we arrived slightly early) and I had to keep pulling her back as she tried to escape towards the classroom.

Upon arrival in the classroom, she was amused to see the cardboard animals on the walls!  The jungle/safari decorations are adorable (there were even vines) and she was taking it all in.   She found some cookie cutters on a table and started playing with them, which led the teacher to bring out some playdough.  Maya is typically a playdough fiend, but she held back a bit and watched the other two kids (who are so cute, by the way.  Preschool is like the most adorable thing I've ever seen.) play.  After a few minutes longer I went over to her and our conversation went like this:

Me:  Maya, can you say bye to Mommy?  I'm going to leave and you can stay here and play.

Maya: Bye!

Me:  Bye!  (Kisses her head)  Can you blow me a kiss?

Maya: (blows a kiss)

So. cute.

The report that I got at the end of the day was basically like this:  She did good, no tears.  She liked to observe things, but also joined in. (I was wondering about this---she likes to hover around the edges of activity and watch for a while, until she's used to things.)  She didn't eat a lot or drink her milk. (Not super surprising, since I'm guessing she was just overwhelmed and not wanting to eat.)  She gave Adam* a lot of hugs, and tried to give Max* a hug, but he wasn't having it.  (LOL!)

Anyway, without further ado, I present Maya's first day:



*names are changed to protect the hug-ees.

Two firsts in one day

Today Maya had 2 firsts:

1.  First bus ride.  She loved it, as we knew she would.  When we got off the bus she was whimpering, struggling to get out of Daddy's arms, and signing "More, more, more!"  I wanted her to ride the bus (and the subway, but we haven't done that one yet) with us before school started---that way she has a frame of reference if they come up at school.  Also, I know they take the subway (and maybe busses?) for class trips, and I wanted her first ride to be with us, so I could see her little excited face :)

Her blurry, but excited, face

2.  She fed herself a peach.  Well, half a peach---I had to pry it out of her slippery, gripping fingers when I realized that she was devouring it so aggressively that she would most certainly shatter her teeth on the pit.  I gave the remainder to her in big chunks.  Self-feeding a whole piece of fruit?!  Woo hoo!

I'm still sorting through vacation pics and have a vacation story or two to share as well.  Only 2 weeks and 2 days until little Maya will be starting school, and we're trying to make the most of our time off before then :) 

If you didn't do it already, go enter the Leapfrog DVD giveaway!  Remember, to enter you have to leave comments on the blog post HERE, not on the FB page.  Good luck!

Listen up!

Before this afternoon, Maya's spontaneous vocabulary was only 1 word:  Bye.  She loves bye and bye-bye and will shout them any time someone appears to be leaving anywhere.  People stand up at the dog run? "Bye-bye!"  We pass by someone in the hallway? "Bye!"  We leave the apartment? "Bye-bye.  A-bye.  Bye!"

(She can also say "mama" and "dada" but those are generally prompted.  And  "Mmmmm" can mean: milk, Maisy, Maisy video, moon, more, cow or moo.  "Hhhh" ("ha", but the a is silent) means "help".  These sounds are word precursors, but not true words, you know?  Like, we understand them, but not other folks.)

But this afternoon, with her fabulous speech therapist (who I know is probably reading this!) Maya latched on to another word. 

And it's soooooooooooooo cute.



Did you hear that sweet little voice?  Saying a real word?  It's like a drop of rain to a man in the desert . . . on one hand, I wanted to jump out of my skin with excited, grateful celebration  . . . and then, so quickly, a thirsty voice in my head says "More, more, give me more, talk more." 

It will come. 

PS.  How cute is it that "done" appears to be a full body effort?  Adorable.

PPS.  Her first two clear words are "bye-bye" and "done".  We've got a strong willed little girl on our hands :)


(Hearing update:  We've got nothing.  More tests today solidified what we already know---when she uses both ears, in a quiet room, her hearing seems to be normal.  We need more detailed data, but it's difficult to tease out of her, as some of the tests are too sophisticated just yet.  We'll return at the end of the summer, and will be teaching her a new way to take a certain behavioral test between now and then.)

Another little milestone

We took this video this morning, immediately after breakfast, hence the snazzy attire.




(That's how she signs "play".)

It figures that the first word she recognizes (besides her name) is play :)  Our girl is so smart!

Winners, a loser, and Twitter

Winners:  Dave, Maya & I had a great weekend :)

1.  Lots of playground time, some dog park time, general happiness and soaking-in-the-sunshine:

I love to climb so high . . . and Daddy's a great spotter. 

 I made it to the top!

Blowin' kisses to Mommy on the ground

We've taken to sitting anywhere.  Right in the middle of the action for a milk break?  No problem.  It's kind of strangely liberating to just sit right down wherever you please.

2.  We went to a birthday party today and Maya got to wear a dress!  Of course, this is not her first time ever wearing a dress, but it kind of was the first time that she really got to wear a dress.  Before, she wore dresses to events that either a) would have her in our arms/in a highchair the whole time (like out to dinner at a restaurant)  or b) would be in a safe enough place that we could tuck the dress into her diaper cover and let her crawl around like that.  But now she's walking!  And she can wear a dress to a party and walk around in it.  Pretty amazing (and pretty adorable, too).

It doesn't get any sweeter than this, does it?

Loser:  Parker did not have the best weekend.

A totally accidental dog park incident left him cut up.  And now until the skin heals he remains banished from the dog park (since I don't want any dirt to get in the wound).  Good news is that it's healing very quickly.  Poor dude.

Ouch.  Parker, by the way, is still obviously crazy about the ramp.

Twitter?

Since the whole Kristi Yamaguchi twitter thing, I've been wondering what the deal is with twitter.  Then someone asked me last week if I'm on twitter.  Truth be told, I'm not even sure if I should be capitalizing Twitter . . . I'm not twitterliterate (twitterate?).  But it got me curious about who reads here and is into Twitter----please take a moment and cast a vote in the new poll (upper left corner).  Thanks!

PS.  If you didn't see the Helen Keller video that I posted on the blog's Facebook page, you have to go check it out.  It's totally amazing and inspiring!

The A says aaa!

I asked some wise been-there-done-that moms how their kids started to learn about letters.  Several recommended a DVD called "Leapfrog Letter Factory", which Maya quickly took to (given the choice to watch Elmo or "The letters" before bed, she's been chosing the letters).
 
They sing a cute song about the noises that the letters make, and Maya likes to sing along. . .

Don't get too excited about her tearing through the alphabet, her mouth isn't nearly ready to start making the C sound

Again, I'm not a big advocate of pushing educational stuff onto kids constantly (I'm a big believer in play), but if she's showing interest in letters, I'm going to ride this wave  :)

PS-If you just see a black box, click it and the video will start.

M is for Maya

How. freaking. cool. is. that. 

!?!?!?!

Her OT mentioned a weekish ago that maybe we should start exposing her to letters, since she can be pretty visually attentive (when she's in the mood).  So I started doodling M's here and there.  Yesterday, when the OT did an art project with her, they made a big M with markers and I hung it on the door. 

This morning during breakfast we were drawing on the high chair tray (with crayons--super fun and they wipe right up) and when I drew an M Maya turned in her chair to point at the M drawing on the door.  I thought to myself, "Does she really know M already?" and then I grabbed my phone (for video) and cut a few index cards and tried it out.  AMAZING :)

I feel the need to issue the disclaimer that I am not a general fan of pushing kids to learn letter recognition, etc before school starts----but I think if the child is interested, why not.  More importantly, for a nonverbal child, learning letters and words is huge.  It's just a happy glimpse into the future, a reassuring nugget tucked in my back pocket  . . . if spoken words take many years to come, it's ok, because recognizing words and tapping them out will be coming too, possibly sooner. 

Recognizing M is, for me, a gentle, reassuring reminder that she will understand (more) and be (more) understood with every passing day.

First time walking outside :)

I'm too lazy to upload the pictures---but she was very interested in the bushes and the dirt.  A whole new experience, to walk outside!

Here's a quick cell phone video from right before we headed back inside:



If you just see an empty spot, click the play button and the video will appear.

See Maya walk. Walk, Maya, walk!

I had a rough morning, a not-so-great preschool tour (more on that some other time).

Maya must have known that I needed some cheering up . . . she decided to show off her walking skills (more than I've ever seen).

A few things:

1. If you have your sound on, you can hear her "talk" :)
2. It looks like she's going to crack her head on the wall, but don't worry, she doesn't (I'm letting you know so you can watch without cringing)
3. I love how she knows where the barn is, even though I don't.
4. See how she peeks around the doorway (1:04) instead of going into the room?  And then she keeps glancing to her left when we're in the spare room?  That's because she's suddenly become very wary of the snake----she points to the cage, wants someone to walk over with her and look at the snake, etc.  We don't watch tv (so she's never seen a scary snake) and keep puzzling over why she's suddenly nervous . . . and then we realized that one of her favorites books (Dear Zoo) talks about a snake being "too scary"!  I think that's where it's coming from.  How smart is she?!

I can stand up by myself

Those of you who aren't Facebook fans (you've got nothing to lose, may as well go ahead and "like" us) might not have seen this yet . . .

This morning Maya stood up---not pulled up, stood up without touching anything---for the first time ever! Once she had done it twice I grabbed my cell phone and got it on tape (turn down your volume, I'm screechy):



(If you just see a blank area with a play button, click play and the video will appear)

She walked! Like, for real!

So it turns out that Maya can walk from the table to the couch . . . who knows how long she's been harboring this secret skill.   Clearly, she's never cared enough to get the job done before.  But tonight?  Well, tonight Dave & I were setting up her new iPad (thank you, Grandma Lainey & Grandpa Joe!) and we put on a few Sesame Street videos.

Well, that got her attention real quick.

The first time she did it we were speechless, but for the second time we had the video camera ready:



As always, if you see an empty box and a play button, just click play and the video will appear.
:)