People watching at the mall

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December was a hard month to keep any sort of schedule. We went to Hawaii (yeah I know poor me) then had a week off, then Michigan for Christmas, and then home again. We didn’t do swimming the whole month because, what is the point? We were gone half the month, and in the last week none of Sophia’s other classes were in session. So just for some diversion I took Sophia to the play area of a nearby mall. I’m not a shopper. As far as Sophia knows the mall is just a bunch of hallways with a play area at one end. Oh, and they have some pseudo Chinese food there too.

The last three or four times I went to the mall there was this odd guy. He doesn’t look odd. He acts odd. Every time I see him he’s holding balloons filled with helium and carrying on a conversation with various kiosk employees while standing five feet away and slightly bent at the waist as if he’s just about to bow.

I use the words “carrying on a conversation” rather loosely. The last couple of times I came across him he was actually giving the weather forecast while his captive audience stood uncomfortably wondering what to do. I know he sounds a little creepy but he seems harmless. I don’t mean that I’ll have him baby sit my kid, harmless, but if I were stuck sitting by him on a bus I would be ok. I wouldn’t sit in perpetual defense, on guard for inappropriate behavior of a sexual nature.

The poor kiosk employees. It’s funny to watch them react to him. I’m sure they’re all used to him on their own level. I’m sure some of them even welcome the diversion from begging stay-at-home moms to try their product.

I little tip to the kiosk employees…if a woman walks past you zone wearing a men’s sweater, clearly doesn’t wear makeup E-V-E-R, and pushes a $17 umbrella stroller she’s not a big spender. She won’t even consider your product because she knows it serves no purpose. Her house is not one filled with knick-knacks. Try approaching the woman that wears so much perfume you can still smell her ten minutes after she has passed. The one wearing all the labels that the previously described woman wouldn’t even recognize. The woman who, if she’s pushing a stroller it would be the one weighted down with bags of newly purchased items even in a down economy. If her child were a girl, she would be covered in Pepto-Bismol pink as well as all the child’s accessories including the stroller. That’s your target. Your other target might be the man that has is eyebrows plucked.

This is what I do when we have no classes to go to and it’s crappy outside. I watch other people. I’m not sure this stay-at-home stuff is for me.

Speech therapy, I waited for this?

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With every question I had after every pre-therapy hoop, I was told I’d have to ask the speech therapist. Almost two full months after Sophia’s qualifying evaluation for speech therapy I finally got an appointment and then the day before it was to happen I received a cancellation call. The therapist was sick, but I didn’t care. I was pissed as hell all day. All the hoops, all the forms, prior evaluations, first time consultations with occupational therapists, meetings over expectations, all we really wanted was this one therapy.

We are sure that if we could just get Sophia talking many of our other frustrations would be minimized. It took two months to get the appointment despite having good, nay awesome insurance. They couldn’t just assign a different speech therapist to come to our home or have me go to the office though they say it’s not as effective. I don’t care. Just get me into the final phase of the system!

I received a call the following Monday, the day before we were to leave for a week for Christmas in Michigan, and was asked if we could meet in two hours. Absolutely! Every first time meeting is just a head-nod getting-to-know-you session and this one was no different. I wasn’t impressed and I don’t think she likes me much either.

I got the feeling that she didn’t see Sophia as a valid case since I was beaming over new words she picked up over the week in Hawaii. She seemed to forget that I signed up for this shit two months prior and at the time Sophia had less than twenty words. All through the therapy session, the tips and pointers she gave to helping Sophia to speak were pissing me off. “Use short, simple phrases,” “Add descriptive words to the words she says.” “Ask her questions.” “Give her choices.” I’m sure there are some people that completely ignore their child all day and then wonder why the child doesn’t speak. I’m not one of those. I didn’t give any acknowledgment to the therapists suggestions. Her tone wasn’t at all condescending but the fact that those were her main tips made it sound like anyone with a two year old who doesn’t speak must be an inept parent and fucking idiot. Either that or this therapy is a joke. Seriously, if better tricks don’t come out of the bag next time I’m going to forget about the speech part of Sophia’s therapy.

The therapist began to give examples of questions I should ask Sophia as if I couldn’t come up with them on my own. Actually, she was trying to explain how to make talking fun for Sophia. “Is this blue?” She asked Sophia holding up a red Tyco Super Block (big Legos for toddlers). I had just explained to her that Sophia was using signs from her Signing Time video that she didn’t seem to understand. Red, was one of the signs. I waited to give Sophia a chance to answer. Sophia moved on with whatever was going through her toddler head without any acknowledgment that a question was even asked of her.

That form of questioning really makes my ass twitch. I have no idea what I was really like at the age of two. I do have memories from that age, but I don’t know if I was talking or how much. I told the therapist that Sophia isn’t just a lot like me, she is mini-me. Several friends have commented that her attitudes are mine exactly. I know that Sophia is only two and may not actually know the answer to the question, but in continuing to give some background in how Sophia I think, I told the therapist that when I was little I always thought people that asked that type of question were stupid. With a touch of contempt in her voice she said, “Well some kids think it’s fun.” Clearly, I hit a nerve. She continued to tell me that she wouldn’t use that sort of question with say, a seven year old. In the specific memory I have of being asked such a question I wasn’t seven. I was four. I was just trying to give her some insight into our attitude, so bite me.

Sophia started throwing a ball around the room and the therapist said the word “ball” to her. Sophia then said ball for the first time. “Wow,” I said, “I guess I’ll be adding that one to the list.” I was informed by the therapist that, “the tend pick up words spontaneously like that after they’ve reached fifty words”. Indicating that my count must me off. Including the new word of the day, she only had 37 words at the time. I’m not counting the signs she picked up from her video because she really doesn’t seem to know what they mean. For her they all are ways to tell me she wants to watch the video again and that’s it.

Sophia got to be a bit of a pest with her ball. She kept saying, “ball” and started throwing a ball AT me. I asked her not to do that and she said, “dahp et” The therapist and I both laughed, “yes,” I said, “you need to stop it.”

I told the therapist of my attempts at getting Sophia to talk including the four months (between the ages of 18 and 22 months) I didn’t give her anything (aside from scheduled meals) unless she signed or asked for it. I wasn’t responding to finger pointing or grunts anymore if I knew she had a word or a sign for a particular want. In an almost snotty tone she asked, “and how did that go for you?” I really wanted to be a smart ass and ask her if it wasn’t obvious since there is a speech therapist standing in my house, but I refrained. I’m such a big girl…sometimes. I told her it resulted in a lot of tantrums and joked, “but I can be stubborn too.”

“Well you reap what you sow.” She told me. Seriously, what a bitch! I didn’t ask what she meant by that and she didn’t offer any explanation, but I didn’t take it as anything positive. I have another appointment with her next week. I’m fuckin’ overjoyed.

Mission Give Momma A Heart Attack – Great Success

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The first day in Hawaii we spent just kicking back at the beach. That’s what you’re supposed to do in Hawaii when you come from a place where beaches have grains of sand the size of your fist and the water is so cold that is could actually cause arthritis with a single touch.

Our hotel was across the road from the beach and Kurt chose it for that reason. That section of the beach also had a wall in the Ocean built to create a large tide pool for kids. During high tide the wall was covered by water but during low tide their was a pool that was no deeper than four feet. I have some cool photos of the waves crashing up against the wall as the tide came up that I’ll share later.

Kurt and Sophia swimming

Even though there is once place in all of Washington state that has actual sandy beaches and I took Sophia there a few times over the summer, she was still reluctant to touch the sand or even go in the water until I took off my shirt and she saw my swimsuit. Suddenly she was all about taking off her shoes and getting in her swimsuit. She didn’t mind walking through the sand to the water with me right beside her.

Kurt took her out in the water for a while, then I walked in and out of the water several times with her. After a while I went to sit by Kurt on the beach mats he bought. Sophia was far from done with the water. She kept at it, running in and out. She never went further than knee deep on her own and was never more than five feet from us.

There was a tiny step down just beyond the mini surf where the waves had carved a two-inch step in the sand. Sophia always paused at that spot to step down. On one occasion, the spongy sand caused her to loose her balance and she fell in the six inches of water. No water hit her face. Kurt and I watched intensely waiting for her to stand on her own. She was fine, but sat there on all fours for a minute. A mini wave came in raising the water another inch though the kid pool. Then for no reason at all she rolled over on her back. I didn’t wait for any flailing. I was mommy on the spot – I ran to her and grabbed her arm. Her eyes were wide open with fear. I think in that moment I thoroughly tested her for Marfan syndrome. I yanked on that arm lifting her whole body up and out of the water, and the limb stayed attached with all that weight.

She was scared and had completely scared me. She didn’t cry and wasn’t coughing up water. I don’t think her nose or mouth actually got any water in them. I move at mommy-lightning-speeds. Just don’t test me again. E-V-E-R. Please.

Sophia didn’t go to the water on her own for the rest of the day. She played in the sand for a while after that and then would grab one of our hands if she wanted in the water again.

Sophia playing in the sand
sand baby
toes
dumping sand out of the bucket
shoveling sand on herself

Flight to Hawaii

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At the airport I didn’t have to open Sophia’s sippy cups going through security like I did before. They have a new electronic device to examine liquids now. “Hey that’s pretty cool.” I told the TSA officer. I was happy that I didn’t have to open the cup while he held it and I juggled a wiggly toddler like I did last year.
“Yeah,” he said, “It can smell things just as well as a dog.”
“Really?” I asked, “It actually smells things?”
“Yes,” he said, “when it works.”

I bit my tongue and tried to hide my smirk. It’s an impossible task for me, my smirk has a mind of it’s own. I don’t know if they’ve hired all new TSA people in the last couple years or if the atmosphere has calmed down a bit. They seem to actually retain some human qualities now. I remember going through security shortly after 9-11 and Kurt being yelled at for not pulling all the change out of his pocket fast enough. He tried to explain that there wasn’t a change tray available and was yelled and even more.

On another trip months after the whole shoe bomber incident I had the audacity to ask, “oh, we all have to take our shoes off?” I had previously flown threw where only people with heavy boots had to take their footwear off. I was scoffed at and made to feel like an idiot, “yeah of course, where have you been?” As if everyone that flies does so on a very regular basis.

It’s getting a lot better. They’re now polite, respectful and even helpful for those of us with kids, but that doesn’t stop me from thinking the rules are any less arbitrary or ridiculous, especially when the TSA officer himself admits the equipment isn’t always reliable.

Our flight with a toddler went well. I mean for a two year old she did great sitting in an tin tube for six hours. I think it helped a lot that she was sitting in her car seat and that I brought her favorite foods with us. I’ll now publicly thank the guy in front of Sophia for not killing her for kicking the back of his seat THE ENTIRE FLIGHT. He never said a word or even gave a glance. He just put on his headphones and leaned forward. Kurt decided that on the way back we would have a rear-facing child so she’ll only have her own seat to kick.

We brought some of her books to entertain her. Those quickly became projectile objects which I had to retrieve from the crevice between her seat and the window. After a while she indicated that she wanted us to sing “The Wheels on the Bus” repeatedly by moving her hands in the rolling wheels motion.

When we go to swimming she rarely does any of the motions to that song. She smiles and clearly enjoys it, but the only active participation for that song is that motion and splashing the water for a horn beep. In her new preschool/playgroup she learned the motions done while out of water but not only doesn’t she participate in circle time during the class but she stands on the fringe of the circle and acts as if it’s a dull spectator sport. On the plane with her parents acting like idiots for her amusement she did all the motions and even helped Kurt with which verse comes next. She actually said “beep, beep, beep” for the bus horn sound. That’s right, she said a new word on the airplane. It was also freakishly cute to hear her do the, “sh sh sh” with her finger to her lips for the part about the mommies calming the babies.

We tried to schedule the flight in a way that Sophia would sleep through at least part of it. I even had her skip her nap the day before we left, but that stubborn-won’t-sleep-in-public-places child didn’t drift off until we started our descent into Honolulu, and then I had to wake her up. We landed at eleven at night, Seattle time. It was another two hours before we actually checked into our hotel and got her to bed.

Polar bear express to Hawaii

Yep, Sophia had to take her polar bear to Hawaii. I think she has watched too many episodes of LOST.

55 Flash non-Fiction Friday: Unwarranted Reputation

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“So, what happened to the relationship?”
“It’s complicated.”
“Why?”
“We have a long history.”
“Oh, I thought this was a new person.”
“No, we’ve been on again and off again for years.”
“Oh, one of those relationships, what’s the problem?”
“If I tell you, you’ll think less of me.”
“Don’t be silly, that’s not possible.”

55 Flash Fiction Friday

I forgot a word

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In my last post about Sophia’s new words, I actually forgot one. I think she’s been reading my blog because she made sure to remind me yesterday. I was quickly tossing the dirty diapers in the trashcan outside and left the front door ajar so that Sophia didn’t pitch a fit that she couldn’t come see me if she chose. On the way back, I saw her standing in the doorway in her PJs, “Coh” she said. At first it didn’t register with me. “Coh, coh,” she said pointing to the frosty morning air.

“Yes, very cold!” I told her.

The first time I hear her say that was probably three weeks ago when I pulled out a package of cheese sticks from the freezer in the garage to put in the refrigerator. She wanted to carry them up, so I handed them to her. “Coh!” she said. That brings us up to thirty words at twenty-six months.