On Motherhood

This Sunday is Mother's Day. Although it is celebrated on different days all around the world, most cultures set aside a day to appreciate our Mothers and all that they do for us. Sunday morning will probably see my news feed awash with photos of homemade cards, breakfasts in bed and flowers, some of which, undoubtedly picked by tiny fingers (and quite possibly from the neighbour's garden). It's a day of emotion for most, of remembrance for some and celebration for many.

It is such a powerful word, "Mother".  It invokes many of its permutations, from the sacred to the profane, all of which is dictated by our life experiences.  The word, this title, means so much to so many people.  As a culture, we like adding little specialty titles too:  "Working Mom", "Blogging Mom", "Stay-At-Home" Mom,  even "Absentee Mom".  There is also "Special Needs Mom", but we will get to that one later.

Becoming a "Mother", for me, was life changing. Gone was the egocentricity, the partying, the sense of entitlement. It wasn't just about me any more, it was about this little person. This new sense of "us". Instead of two people in orbit around each other, we were now three, a cohesive unit. It was wonderful and terrifying all at once. Previous to this, I had spent countless hours at the gym, the salon, the nail salon and the mall, shopping for new clothes and new ways to combat my 'age'. I needed to look better, was the thought, to look more like the ideal and inflate what I recognize now as an appalling lack of self-confidence. I spent countless dollars at the liquor store too, trying to soothe myself after the rest of it 'didn't work'. I am one of those people that motherhood changed for the better. I will admit that wholeheartedly and face any criticism that may generate.

After a rough entrance into this world, my son had a mother.  Me.  I was somebody's Mother. (Eek!)

I entered a second phase after my year of maternity leave as I returned to work.  As a "Working Mom", I was supposed to have it all:  a faboo job, a clean house, carefully scheduled play dates and homemade banana bread cooling on the counter.  I did too... well, most of it.  My house, like most, has stages of 'clean'.  However, I still baked the banana bread, I still sat down every day with my son and went through his day and did activities together.

Flash a few years in the future as I have my twins.  Becoming a mother this time meant a whole lot more things.  There were more labels.  Now I was a "Twin Mom" and most notably, a "Special Needs Mom".  It can be a bit confusing at times as the first title usually makes people squeal with glee.  The second one usually elicits a completely different reaction.

Stupid human tricks aside, it's the last one that has caused the most growth and simultaneous heartache/joy.  To be clear, it's not my son that causes me heartache as my critics would contend;  it's society as a whole. I'm not just talking thoughtless vocabulary choices as there are still a lot of people out there who don't have the foggiest idea what 'special needs' are.  In my example, I have a son, a twin, who has Down Syndrome, the most common genetic disorder that occurs in 1:700 live births.  You would think people would know a little more about it.  Instead, I find myself railing against a public perception that is somewhere between 40 and 80 years out of date.  There is a lot of ignorance out there, ranging from being told that my son will break apart my family or should have been aborted, to more milder forms, usually involving a "I didn't mean it that way" or "you're too sensitive". 

I read an article the other day that certainly captured most of it.  Called "7 Things You Don't Know About a Special Needs Parent", it hits the mark on a few points.  Please understand, these are not things that we experience every day, or feel all the time.  But, we will run into all 7 of these things at least once in our lives.  It happens.  I don't begrudge my friends with neurotypical children their pride at their children's accomplishments;  I will admit an occasional pang when listening to a laundry list of some of the more inconvenient aspects of their child's behaviour.  Again, it happens.

Becoming a "Special Needs Mom" can sometimes mean a whole new level of advocacy.   I've joked in the past that this job came with a sword and magic helmet, along with the ass kicking boots that come standard issue with being a "Typical Mom". My thoughts right now are with my friend M who is fighting with an area school board to allow her son admission in the fall.  She has been told that he is "too small", that they do not "encourage sign language", that they "don't have children with Down Syndrome".  It is completely appalling as M lives in the next county, forty minutes up the street from me.  My elder son has had a special needs child in his class both years of kindergarten;  there are many integrated special needs children in his school.  It is not a 'special' school or a trial school, just your average neighbourhood elementary.  It is pathetic that a forty minute drive can mean the difference between acceptance and complete ignorance. 

That is not to say that being a "Special Needs Mom" is any more important than any other type of Mom, because it isn't.  That is one of the pitfalls of this job, to think that this particular journey is any more important or difficult than any other.  I have no idea what it is like to be a "Single Mom" or a "Same Sex Mom", a "Step-Mom", an "Adoptive Mom" or any other title that we can apply to this job.  Despite the content of this blog, it's not my "Special Needs Mom"-ness that defines me any more than my "Twin Mom"-ness or my plain ol' "Mom"-ness.  I'm a Mother, just like the other millions out there.  We all bring our uniqueness to this title, but in the end, we are all the same deep down.  We want what is best for our children. We want a roof over their heads and food in their bellies.  We want them to grow up to be happy, productive adults.

This Sunday we will enjoy the many flavours of Motherhood.  Whether we biologically or adoptively assumed this role, we all have lots in common.  We forget that sometimes.  We all have our quirks, or specialties and even our weaknesses. We all have discovered strengths that we never thought possible.  "Mother" is the most demanding and most rewarding job I know.  It doesn't matter what prefix you put in front of it.

“Why do people say 'grow some balls'? Balls are weak and sensitive. If you wanna be tough, grow a vagina. Those things can take a pounding.” - Betty White

Wordless Wednesday: Springtime Fun

(Clicky to embiggen)

What is this "Normal" of Which You Speak?

Today is Saturday, a unique breed amongst the other days.  To many, it's the first day in their two days of respite from the rat race.  To me, a shiftworker, it's just another day.  Today, in fact, is day four of nine, where I am supposed to be cleaning the basement and the stairs.  Since my sciatica has been ranging from cripplingly painful to moderately bastardly in the last week, we can safely assume that isn't happening today.  Instead I will blog...

Today's entry is made possible by my shiny new 'puter which came about solely because my other "laptop" decided to wink out and not display anything any more.  I say "laptop", as any sort of illusion that this thing was in any way portable had long since died out.  In the six years that it had been in almost constant service, we had first witnessed the demise of the battery which forced it to be plugged in at all times.  My then three year old son decided to play with it one day and in the space of 2 seconds had managed to rip off the "S" key.  It then became permanently tethered to both the wall and a desk as we had to plug in an external keyboard.  It has been moved from the basement to the bedroom and finally to the living room with the advent of the twins.  Where it sat, for many months, wheezing along with an external drive in situ, which kindly did all its major remembering for it.  Now, *poof*. It is blind.  Unfortunately, I have a whole whack of things on there that I did not back up and need to get off there before we either relegate it to the recycle centre or rebuild it for our son.  Yes, the same one that ripped off the S key.  The irony is strong with that one.

Saturdays have taken on another meaning for me;  Special Saturdays.  Those familiar with Twitter lingo will recognize #CT (Charity Tuesday) #FF (Follow Friday) and the like.  The special need community has started another: #specialsaturday, in the hopes of raising awareness.  This week's topic is technology:  how much Team Logan relies on their technology was highlighted this week with the "laptop".  Not only is it a much needed source of respite and an outlet for me, but it is also the hub of the house.  (Thank goodness it is back...)

My bloggy friend Renata over at Just Bring the Chocolate has come up with what I think is a brilliant way to spend a Saturday.  Unlike your typical blog hop, where participants jump from one to another to get to know other bloggers, she's added a twist.  A challenge, if you will.  Instead of dumping my URL and running ... er... trying to put your best face forward or whatever it is that you do, this time, there's work involved.  Renata has challenged us to "redefine normal".  I love this concept.  Love it.  In her words:

"There is no such thing as the normal family, just varying degrees of weirdness. Just like the pile of things that sits hopefully at the bottom of the stairs waiting to be carried up day after day, after a while, we don't even see our own idiosyncrasies. Parents of special needs children, arguably, embrace this weirdness to a more impressive level than many other families, and, should you come across us, you shouldn't be surprised if some of it leaks out into everyday life."

Oh yeah.

We've always been a bit "off".  Even before children, my husband and I were geeks.  We are, what I like to refer to as "delightfully eccentric".  We read a lot.  We know a little about a lot of different topics.  I am creative without actually being an artist of any sort of description.  When our eldest was born, we just incorporated one more into our weird little herd.  Quinn, as it turns out, is really smart, funny, sensitive and really into arts and crafts.  If that kid ever figures out what he is really good at, he is going to be rich.

We amped up the oddity factor when I conceived our twins.  Rare in itself, having twins brings on its own set of unique problems and creative solutions.  We've adapted behaviours for survival.  When one of those twins turned out to have special needs, there was a whole other level of urgency added to "adapt or be destroyed".

To prove Renata's theory that we overlook our idiosyncracies, I had a really hard time coming up with one little thing that makes us unique (since we have adapted everything quite well into everyday life).
I have been very fortunate that other than one surgery thus far with my "typical" twin, we haven't had to do much extra with Wyatt's Down Syndrome medically, other than go to a ridiculous amount of appointments.  By "ridiculous" I mean "mind bogglingly insane amount" as both kids have their own issues that require attention.  As they were 6 weeks premature, Zoe is followed by the neonatal clinic at the hospital.  We have a couple of appointments a year there as they evaluate her development.  She also has a Family Doctor, a Pediatrician and a Surgeon (who repaired her hernia).  Wyatt, so far, has the following:  a family doctor, a cardiologist, a cardiac surgeon, a pediatrician, an ophthalmologist, an ENT, an audiologist, a speech therapist and OT/RT/PT.  My kids need an assistant, which has handily come in the form of their stay at home Dad, another unusual thing about our family, when you get right down to it.  But, I don't think of these things, I only consider ourselves as fortunate as there are no tubes and wires with Wyatt; we have been spared the onset of CHF with his AVSD so far.  There have been no medications to give (other than mineral oil in his ears).  We have been "lucky".

Furthering her concept along, I was wandering around the house doing this and that and trying to come up with what made us different;  as I was doing this, I kept having to rearrange, pick up or sort out piles of stuff.  In our house, "the pile of things that sits hopefully at the bottom of the stairs waiting to be carried up day after day" is literally just that.  Piles and piles of stuff.  We have piles and piles of extra things that parents of singletons, special needs or not, simply do not have to cope with.  For example, our main floor consists of a large eat-in kitchen and a combination living and dining room.  Since Wyatt and Zoe have come into our lives, I no longer have a living-dining room; rather I have an area with couches and a main floor nursery.  The table has been moved out, creating an open area for the kids to roll around and play in.  There is a play pen in there at all times, a ready "penalty box" or soft place to put sleepy little people.  In front of our antique sewing machine, there lives what I like to call our "therapy corner";  a collection of items used for Wyatt's daily PT that have either been adapted for the cause or brought for that purpose.

Our regular readers will recognize The Bean and The Speedbump.  Along with these are (left to right):  2 nursing pillows, a stack of pillows, two "banana" neck stabilizers, an infant anti-rolling brace thing, a rain stick, a blow up roller with balls inside, two Bumbos, two stuffed friends, a yellow happy face ball, a beaded wire toy that suctions to the floor, an infant head rest pillow, the safety mirror,  a tambourine, the gymini-jillikers, a spare bathtub and two Sleep Number bolster pillows.

Any or all toys can be commandeered for the cause at any time:  we have four baskets that are about 1 foot cubed, full of baby toys that are jammed under the coffee table.  Stuff.  We has it.

Team Logan is nothing if not adaptable.  It's "do or do not. There is no try".  Renata has brought a good point forward:  in all our trying to show inclusion, to show our "normalcy", we've started to overlook the little things that make us, us.  We've forgotten what it was to incorporate every adaptation into our routine and as a result, minimize the hard work that we do.  Along with inclusion, I think we have to celebrate that too.  We do work hard.  We don't want to lose sight of that, even if it is a labour of love.  We have our little quirks too.  So, time allowing, I will be participating in the "Define Normal" bloghop.  Once a week, we should have a time to reflect on our little peculiarities, to embrace our differences with a little whimsy.

...And lettin' our freak flag fly, baby.

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Don't forget to vote for Down Wit Dat as About.com's Reader's Choice for Special Needs Parenting Blog.   You can vote once a day, every day until March 21 using an email address or signing in through Facebook.  You can vote HERE.  -Jxox

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Happy Birthday, Babies!

A whole year has gone by. 

I'm still in shock at this realization.

One year ago today saw the beginning and the end of a lot of things.  One year ago brought us some harsh realities, packaged up into two bundles of joy.

Last year, my twins were born six weeks early.  Wyatt first, then his sister Zoe a few minutes later.  Wyatt weighed in at 4 lbs, 13oz, while Zoe was much smaller at 4lbs, 1oz.  Both had oodles of dark hair and the gossamer skin of prematurity.  Both had bright blue eyes.  You could tell right away that Zoe was going to be the spitting image of me.  To the medical staff at least, you could tell right away that Wyatt had Trisomy 21 or Down Syndrome. 

I was certain of his diagnosis as I looked over at his warmer a few moments after he was born.  Each baby had a team at his or her bedside, including a physician and several nurses.  Zoe's team was joyful;  there were jokes and occasional pauses in their work as they reflected on some nuance of my beautiful, yet feisty daughter.  Wyatt's team were a stark contrast.  They spoke in hushed, respectful tones as they worked on my son with efficient, businesslike hands. My husband jokes that my writing is often a string of homilies.  He's right.  This is the moment that began as I looked back and forth across the surgical suite, comparing and contrasting Team A and Team B as they saw to the needs of my newborn children.

Wyatt's cry at birth was different than Zoe's.  When he let forth the first breath of air that he had sucked into his tiny lungs, he sounded all the world like the newborns you hear on TV... only in short bursts. Zoe's pitiful wail would change shortly to the commanding screech she has now, but I did not hear her until after she had been totally suctioned out.  "She is the one that sounds abnormal", I remember thinking to myself.  "He sounds just fine to me."  I would later understand that she sounded like any other premature baby, but at the time, it gave me something to rationalize.  After the Neonatologist gave his awkward pronouncement,  they eventually brought Wyatt over, sleepily bundled up for me to see.  I gave him a quick peck before he was taken away by his procession of gowned attendants to the NICU.  "He doesn't look like he has it..."

Zoe was brought to me, mummified and scowling.  She was so tiny... so much smaller than her twin.  Even bundled up, she was still smaller than a football.  Zoe was too far away for me to kiss and I was about to ask for her to be brought closer when she was handed off to my husband and they too were whisked off to parts unknown.

"So small... So small.  Please be okay...  Please..."

I did not get to hold my children until the next day when I dragged myself and my IV pole almost the length of the hospital to the NICU.  After a night of lying half awake and in constant pain, I needed them and they needed me. Anyone that ever refers to a Caesarian section as "the easy way out" need only talk to me and hear the particulars about that walk.  My nurse was very concerned as I forced myself along... after all, we were supposed to be just dangling my legs over the end of the bed and here I was, on a mission, with my ass hanging out of a johnny gown.  She knew better than to stop me however, for at that moment, I would have crawled there over her broken body if that is what it took.

The babies were in separate isolettes and I visited each one in turn.  I was there for over three hours as my nurse came and went with a wheelchair, hoping to coax me back to my bed where I needed to rest.  The sad part was that I was resting;  the NICU, despite housing very sick babies, is the quietest place in the hospital.  The frequent spine-jarring announcements are hushed, the lights are muted and everyone talks in dulcet tones.  I spent a good while with each of them and examined Wyatt myself.  His ears were smaller and lower on his head and had a telltale fold.  His eyes were almond shaped with epicanthal folds.  His nose had barely a bridge and his face was flatter than hers.  His skull was shaped differently, being wider at the back and smaller at the front, giving the appearance of "points" on either side.  The back of his head was flattened and you could feel that his soft spot was open in a V to his eyebrows.  His hands, much to my delight, did not have a singer palmar crease and his toes did not appear to be parted with a sandal gap. Other than his heart, no other "abnormalities" were discussed.  "Maybe he's Mosaic... "  My husband came and finally convinced me to return and if not rest, eat.  Which I did, ravenously.

Flash forward a year and here we are.  My husband is in the kitchen putting stew in the crock pot and the kids are having great time playing together on the floor behind me.  Those fragile little humans are now thriving babies, who astound and delight us daily.  The only thing that has developed more in the last year is us.  Our thinking, our way of doing things.  There was a time where Wyatt's diagnosis would have meant something terrible.  (It isn't.)  There was a time where I would not have thought that I would have so much interest in genetic disorders and have time to make a difference.  (I do).  There was a time where it seemed that nothing was going to be right again.  (It didn't turn out like that at all).  There was a lot more born a year ago on this day than just these two babies:  Team Logan,  our network and support systems, our awareness, our desire to educate and advocate.  Two parents of a special needs child came into existence too.  We have all come so far.  It has been very difficult at times, of that I will not lie.  We've made therapy a casual everyday thing, something we can do while we play.  We make mealtimes fun.  We explore our world through the kids eyes, whether they be blue, brown or have Brushfield spots.  We love our son and embrace his differences just as much as we do his "sameness".

Today we celebrate many things along with the birth of our children.  Today will celebrate life and love.  We celebrate inclusion, we celebrate acceptance.  We celebrate strength and endurance.  Knowledge, education, awareness, advocacy... the list goes on and on. 

We celebrate new beginnings today. 

Happy Birthday, Wyatt and Zoe.  You are both perfect in every way.

You guys ROCK!

Bon Appétit!

We're on day four of The New World Order here at Team Logan and there have already been quite a few changes.  The kitchen is getting overhauled.  The laundry is no longer "Mount Logan" but rather resembles a large burial mound (hopefully not mine).  Everyone is a little more relaxed and Wyatt and Zoe are now eating solid food.

Last week I mentioned that I was leery of starting the babies on cereal;  I was concerned that Wyatt's head was still a little unstable.  My hope was to wait another two weeks to be well beyond the "six weeks corrected" grace period that each of their milestones is given.  That grand plan lasted until Saturday afternoon after observing both of them watching me eat.  After trying to take food away from me (not a wise move for anyone, even my own offspring) they sat there salivating as I ate my brunch.  Their little eyes bored into me, their jaws were moving in time to mine.  Their little pink tongues were darting out of their half open mouths over seemingly parched lips.  It was creepy.  It was time.  It was more than time.  These babies were hungry!

I hadn't dug out our high chair yet so they were each plunked into a Bumbo.  Wyatt still has trouble sitting up straight in the Bumbo for periods of time, so we were on the clock (I have since set up the high chair for him in the kitchen that works much better).  I mixed up a batch of runny rice cereal according to the directions for  "first feeding" and went to town.

Not surprising, my babies like to eat.

I love this and you Mom!

Rice?  More like awesomesauce!

I couldn't remember any of the first feeding guidelines so I had to consult 'the experts' beforehand.  According to a few places, a baby's first feed should be somewhere around a tablespoon or two.  These two polished off 1/4 cup (or more) each and were upset that I wouldn't give them more.

Please Mom... can I have some more?

I swear, I had to count my fingers afterwards as I was afraid that I had lost a few.  They were snapping at the spoons like little sharks.  According to the aforementioned 'experts', I was also supposed to keep food to once a day.  It was apparent by the end of day two that 2 "solid food" meals were going to be needed as they were starving (they still start out with a full breastfeeding session prior).  Can we say "growth spurt"?  Now they get BF 4 times a day, 4 hours apart and at lunch and dinner they get solid food and a "top up" bottle at bedtime.

I had been looking everywhere for first feeding instructions for DS kids and found little that was useful.  There's a reason for that;  the instructions are no different than any other baby.  The main concerns are still head/neck development and swallowing ability.  Although Wyatt pushes a little food out with his tongue at times (because he is actually giving me his patented "raspberry of approval", not because of his glossal co-ordination), he has still taken to food pretty well.  He requires a little more "shaving" than his sister, but that is typical of a boy.  They like to wear their food.

We also have a new secret weapon this time:  Sean brought home The Baby Bullet.   I was skeptical at first, in fact the first time I saw the ads I remember thinking "how superfluous is that stupid thing?" (I used to have a vocabulary BT or "Before Twins").  I have a blender... yes it was a wedding present and therefore almost 14 years old, but it's still practically new (right?).  Except for the cereals, I made all of Quinn's baby food with it.  I would cook huge batches of things that were pureed according to his texture tolerance and frozen in ice cube trays (which I would then empty into labeled freezer bags).  It was a good system, it was healthy, it was cheaper... and it was a helluva mess.  I think I finally threw out the last of it a year ago.  This time I can make up one thing at a time, quickly and efficiently.  What really sold me on it was the milling head.  It never occurred to me to make my own cereals.  So I did.  This afternoon, I started with 1/2 a cup of brown rice and ended up 20 minutes later with enough ready made rice cereal to last us a week (if they ate at every meal).  I filled four of those wee containers (2 oz each) for the fridge and filled our freezer container (which is half the size of the one shown) and froze it for later.  It is awesome.  I still have a box of baby oatmeal cereal to start them on in a couple of days, but after that we are totally making everything ourselves. 

I could only be happier if I were full of squished sweet potatoes

I even used it to make the banana puree this afternoon.  We'll give it another chance, but thus far the verdict is split:  Wyatt is of the mind that I should immediately switch to having it "on tap" instead, while after a few bites Zoe decided that it was worthy of her best yucky face.  I'll mix it with a little rice cereal and maybe a bit of what is currently on tap and see what she thinks then.

Overall, both twins are doing well.  At their doctor visit yesterday they weighted in at 13 lbs 9.5 oz for Zoe and 13 lbs even for Wyatt.  That differential can totally be attributed to Zoe's muscle mass which continues to astounds me.  She is faster, stronger and way more agile than full-term Quinn at this age.  Wyatt is much improved as he is much less "floppy" than he used to be.  In fact, when we lift him up high into the air he is not as ragdoll like and more like superman.  He will also stand on his legs when held in a standing position, something that Quinn was totally against for a very long time.  To quote one of my girlfriends, Quinn's take was "Legs?  What are they good for?"  Wyatt seems to have his own way about things which is very much a delight to watch.

There was a chill in the air this morning;  I can almost smell winter coming.  The babies will be 7 months old tomorrow and I go back to work a week later.   Time is marching on.  With each new thing I am reminded that they will not be babies forever and this special time will be over for us soon.  As bittersweet as that is, it also represents all the new things headed our way.  New things that will be done first one way, then repeated slightly slower and differently. Done differently, done in the Down Syndrome way.  Wyatt's little extra brings a whole new flavour to our family table. One that many, incuding us, have never experienced before but are enjoying immensely.

Bon appétit!

Zoe

I've been through a bunch of entries on both blogs and have come to the conclusion that Zoe needs a little time in the spotlight.  I'm sure that as time goes on, my wee gal is not going to have any problem at all making herself heard.  Oher than her surgery, it may seem that she is easily overshadowed by her two brothers.  We were very concerned for her after Wyatt's diagnosis as we were afraid that exact thing would happen.  Allow me to set the record straight;  that is hardly the case.

I joke frequently about her screaming, but rest assured that is reality.   At first it was mainly due to colic, but now we are well into the second month or so of teething (we have yet to see a single one).  I swear I spend a good 1/2 to 2/3 of the day just on her alone.  Not all that time is spent being miserable tho';  a good portion of the time she is the funniest baby I have ever met.  Hands down.

I has shooz. (almost 6 mos)

To start with, she communicates in a series of sneezes.  I'm not kidding.  It started out with a real sneeze one day and I mimicked her.  She sneezed another time and I mimicked her again and she smiled.  I sneezed one day and she mimicked me back.  Now when she sees either Sean or myself, she snorts and sniffles, all the while grinning and giggling, thinking we are having the best of conversations.  It's really hard to explain to people.  Is she allergic?  No, she's just saying hi...

Two weekends ago we were at friends for a playdate and dinner.  Staying true to form, she became fussy in the late afternoon.  I've taken to dealing with her screaming any way I can;  in order to bring some levity to what was going to become very loud, very fast, I took my finger and tapped it on her mouth as she was whining, making a "wah-wah" sound.  She stopped.  I did it again.  We did this off and on for a good half hour, me laughing like crazy and her thinking it was the best game ever.  We went home that night and promtly forgot about it.  Two days later, she is sitting on my lap and "talking" (that little burbly throw in a consonant here and there babble that babies do).  Suddenly she grabs my hand and puts my finger in her mouth to make a "wah-wah" noise.  Then she giggled.  She hadn't forgotten about it.  She will do this at least once a day, when she's not trying to actually gnaw off one of my fingers.  Or eat my face.  Apparently she is part cannibal on her father's side.

Don't let her fool you...

Her smile is the best, hand down.  It is probably not all that great by baby standards, but since most of my day is either spent praying that my hearing finally goes or that she goes the f☠ck to sleep, it is a thing of beauty when it arrives.  I have yet to fully capture it's glory, but this is the closest I have come so far:

Whee!  (3 Mos)

It starts out crooked and then takes up most of her face as she scrunches her nose and snuffles at you.  I hope to immortalize it in all it's gummy glory before those (damn!) elusive teeth come in.

Now, this is the part where I nominate myself for Mother of the Year by admitting that I accidentally call her the wrong name all the time.  I'm not talking about the "Sean-Wyatt-Quinn...YOU!!" thing that all mothers do (I am sad to admit that I do it), but rather a totally different name all together.  Specifically, I accidentally call her "Fenchurch".  Other than Arthur Dent's girlfriend, Fenchurch is my cat.  My dead cat.  You can read all about that here.

I accidentally started calling her Fenchurch about the two or three month mark.  I really don't know how it started, but I'm betting the sleep deprivation had a LOT to do with it.  Fenchurch made a lot of weird noises over the years and I think could have contributed.  Zoe makes a lot of whining/whimpering/mewling noises that sound like kittens, puppies and occasionally piglets.  She is also super intense like Fen was [read:  nuts].  These are guesses at best but it took me two weeks of thinking about her as "Fenchurch" before I accidentally called her that one night at the bedtime feed.  Sean leveled his gaze for a moment (most likely assessing my level of crazy) and then remarked that "they might just be Sable and Fenchurch, you don't know". I'm pretty sure they are not and the cheese has just slid off my cracker a bit, but he gets uber bonus points for being such a sympathetic husband.

Zoe is exactly like me.  Now, I know a lot of Moms say this about their kids and they might be right... and I do believe I said this about Quinn.  Believe me now when I say she is exactly like me.  Exactly.  From the "want" line on her forehead to the mole on her hip, she is a carbon copy, miniature me.  That scares me a bit, but other times it's hilarious.  Like this morning, when she couldn't seem to get her eyes open...

She needs her coffee too.

By the way, not 3 minutes later...

And the day usually goes from there.  She refuses to nap other than in 5 minute bursts.  By the way, when that unlikely event does happen, a bomb going off will not wake her up.  My eyelids closing?  Loudest sound on earth.

So there you have it... up close and personal with who I think is the most personable baby on the planet.    Daily she makes me laugh (and cry).  She may be the only girl and she may be the "youngest", but we have no delusions about who will eventually be the Alpha in our little brood. 

God help us when she learns to crawl.

Big and Little

I really have to give my head a shake sometimes.

Sometimes I have these ideas that are fantastic in theory, but totally suck when  I try to implement them.  Yesterday I thought "I haven't taken any pics of the kids lately... I should do that".  Later it was "Oooh!  when the sun comes around, I'll shoot them in natural light in the living room!  In front of the antique cabinet!  On the wood floor!  It will be all warm and natural!  We'll do jeans and bare feet!  AWESOME!"  [Enter other random squees here!  And more exclamation marks!!!!]

F☠ck no.

I started after lunch.  I cleared the playpen and the myriad of baby toys and equipment away, swept the floor and opened the blinds to let the sunlight in.  In the afternoon, there is a magic time where the light is just perfect, so this was going to work.  I was going to have happy full babies.  I was going to have a full 5 year old. This was gonna be good.

What I didn't allow for was the random spin of the Life wheel which came up "Five Year Old Freakout". I laid out Quinn's clothes on his bed and sent him upstairs to get changed.  When I was pregnant, I bought him a T-Shirt that says "I'm the Big Brother!";  I had laid it out with a pair of jeans.  He came down moments later in his shirt and Batman underwear.  When I asked what had happened to the jeans, he totally lost his sh☠t!  He screamed something about jeans being "boring" and "hot" and then stormed upstairs, crying all the way and slammed his door like a 14 year old girl.  WTF?

It took me half an hour to coax [threaten] him downstairs, get him changed and deal with the baby pukefest that had ensued after Dynamo:  The Kid Dramatic had his closeup.  All was well, I set him up in front of the cabinet... and he freaks out again.  "I'm not ready!  I'm not ready!", he cries, collapsing to the floor.  "And the Oscar goes to..."  Don't go storming back to your trailer either.

It's the end of the world...

Not less than two minutes later, he was back ON.  Here is the photographic proof:

I'm ready for my close up...

I'm not happy with the light as the dramatics had eaten up the perfect light time and the pics are a bit too dark for me... but that is just me.  Wyatt also is getting better with his head, but he also has a limited amount of time before he gets tired and he starts to droop.  We did get a good one of Quinn and Wyatt together:

My Boys

And a not too bad one of Quinn and Zoe...

Big Brother and Little Sister

Wyatt had definitely started to droop, but his pose makes it easy to explain away:

Hey, what's that outside?

I laid the babies on the floor and got a few things that I could play with later in Photoshop.  This is one of them:

Togetherness

Now that the smoke has cleared, I am going to revisit this spot again when the light is better and the little people are better at taking direction... who am I kidding?  That will never happen.

I think I'll just have my beer before, instead of after.  It and the session are a lot easier to enjoy when my eye isn't twitching like that.

---------------------------------

Big and Little

I really have to give my head a shake sometimes.

Sometimes I have these ideas that are fantastic in theory, but totally suck when  I try to implement them.  Yesterday I thought "I haven't taken any pics of the kids lately... I should do that".  Later it was "Oooh!  when the sun comes around, I'll shoot them in natural light in the living room!  In front of the antique cabinet!  On the wood floor!  It will be all warm and natural!  We'll do jeans and bare feet!  AWESOME!"  [Enter other random squees here!  And more exclamation marks!!!!]

F☠ck no.

I started after lunch.  I cleared the playpen and the myriad of baby toys and equipment away, swept the floor and opened the blinds to let the sunlight in.  In the afternoon, there is a magic time where the light is just perfect, so this was going to work.  I was going to have happy full babies.  I was going to have a full 5 year old. This was gonna be good.

What I didn't allow for was the random spin of the Life wheel which came up "Five Year Old Freakout". I laid out Quinn's clothes on his bed and sent him upstairs to get changed.  When I was pregnant, I bought him a T-Shirt that says "I'm the Big Brother!";  I had laid it out with a pair of jeans.  He came down moments later in his shirt and Batman underwear.  When I asked what had happened to the jeans, he totally lost his sh☠t!  He screamed something about jeans being "boring" and "hot" and then stormed upstairs, crying all the way and slammed his door like a 14 year old girl.  WTF?

It took me half an hour to coax [threaten] him downstairs, get him changed and deal with the baby pukefest that had ensued after Dynamo:  The Kid Dramatic had his closeup.  All was well, I set him up in front of the cabinet... and he freaks out again.  "I'm not ready!  I'm not ready!", he cries, collapsing to the floor.  "And the Oscar goes to..."  Don't go storming back to your trailer either.

It's the end of the world...

Not less than two minutes later, he was back ON.  Here is the photographic proof:

I'm ready for my close up...

I'm not happy with the light as the dramatics had eaten up the perfect light time and the pics are a bit too dark for me... but that is just me.  Wyatt also is getting better with his head, but he also has a limited amount of time before he gets tired and he starts to droop.  We did get a good one of Quinn and Wyatt together:

My Boys

And a not too bad one of Quinn and Zoe...

Big Brother and Little Sister

Wyatt had definately started to droop, but his pose makes it easy to explain away:

Hey, what's that outside?

I laid the babies on the floor and got a few things that I could play with later in Photoshop.  This is one of them:

Togetherness

Now that the smoke has cleared, I am going to revisit this spot again when the light is better and the little people are better at taking direction... who am I kidding?  That will never happen.

I think I'll just have my beer before, instead of after.  It and the session are a lot easier to enjoy when my eye isn't twitching like that.

Milestones

Another week, another round of appointments.  I don't know if these appointments are getting easier or if I've just completely accepted that I will be doing a lot of this for the rest of my days.  Yes, getting to and from can sometimes [most of the time] be problematic with silly scenarios that I [have a knack for] seem to get into.  Lately I've been letting it all roll off me, which is made a lot easier as the news in these appointments has continued to be very encouraging. 

Monday morning was our follow up with the Neonatal clinic at the hospital.  Premature and underweight babies are at high risk for developmental delay so naturally Zoe was referred.  I initially thought the appointment was for both of them, but after an awkward few minutes at the desk I was informed that they don't follow Down Syndrome babies (they leave that up to Infant and Child Development).  Zoe had an appointment to herself for the first time since her surgery.  This was her official 4 month (corrected) visit.

The first little bit was typical:  weigh her in, measure and report.  According to the scale there, she weighed 13 lbs, 4 oz which I think is a bit more than she actually does (they left her dress on, so that could have added a few ounces).  Then it was meeting with the OT (Occupational Therapist) who laid her on the floor and checked out her development.

According to the Nippissing District Developmental Screening Tool, at four months of age a child should be able to do the following:

• Turn their head from side to side to follow a toy
• Glance from one object to another
• Turn [their] head towards a source of sound
• Make some sounds when looking at toys or people
• Brighten to sound, especially to people's voices
• Respond to you by making sounds and moving arms and legs
• Laugh and smile
• Finish each feeding within 45 minutes
• Lift [their] head and support self on forearms
• Bring both hands to chest and keep head in mid-line while lying on back
• Hold head steady when supported in a sitting position (ie:  in an infant chair or on your lap)
• Hold an object briefly when placed in their hand.

(© NDDS Intellectual Property Association, all rights reserved). 

Now, according to the OT, Zoe is scoring in the 50th percentile for her real age, not her corrected one; she can do this list and so much more (roll to her stomach, roll back to her back, hold objects in both hands, etc).  This is fabulous news... albeit not terribly surprising, given "The Princess" (as dubbed by the NICU nurses) has always been a superstar.

Yes, I can multitask.  I learned it from my Mommy...

The Neonatologist was simply enamored with her which also isn't too surprising as she is a real flirt when she is not screaming.  After a few physical checks (heart, lungs, eyes, ears, fontanel), he was done and so were we and we received our next appointment for late November.  We spent the rest of our time at the hospital visiting with Mommy's colleagues where both babies were held and snuggled by all.  Quinn didn't do too badly as well... he scored some Timbits and covered the office in original artwork.

...And on the way home I stopped traffic.  Yes, you read that right. What would a "doctor adventure" be without the "adventure" part?

When we had left in the morning it had just stopped raining;  it was quite possibly the first rain we'd had in a month.  The stroller was packed with rain gear: stroller cover, giant umbrella, a rain coat for Quinn.  At some point while we were inside the skies had cleared and the sun had decided to beat down once again.  I cursed myself for leaving my sunglasses at home and forayed out into the blinding light.  We were almost panting by the time we reached the bus stop and there was no shade to be found as the sun was almost directly overhead.  By the time the bus came we were already very hot and in need of something cold to drink.  I told myself that when we reached our connection if there was a wait we would go into a nearby store and get a drink, which we did, to cool off and kill a little time.  Once we left the store I started cursing as I realized that the curbs and sidewalks on all four corners of the street were torn up.  Our bus stop was missing in fact.  Damn and blast!  How were we supposed to get home?

I ignored the "use other sidewalk" signs as the bus I needed drove on this side of the street.  I deked up into a handy driveway to hopefully cut through... and found fences everywhere.  We were trapped.  I had two choices:  1) walk back to the "corner", cross the street, walk two blocks down the street, cross and walk back up to the nearest stop or 2) improvise.  I was also wearing strappy slip on sandals with a two inch heel that sounded like a good idea in the morning, but now were rubbing the skin off my feet as they swelled in the heat.  Vanity, thy name is pedicure.

We chose option #2.  Traffic had been reduced to one lane as there was an enormous digger currently gouging out the existing sidewalk and dumping the refuse into an equally enormous dump truck.  At a safe distance from these behemoths was a middle aged [read:  older than me] woman holding a slow/stop sign.  I chose to walk right up to her through a cordoned off area and ask her where the bus stop on this side of the street had gone (it was missing too).  She motioned and yelled something about a block ahead of where we were standing. I could barely hear her over the machines but eventually I made out that she was asking how old the twins were.  I let her know, she looked at each of them lovingly while Quinn stood, mouth agape watching the metal dinosaurs claw at the earth.  I had to interrupt her momentarily to ask her how I was going to get there and she smiled and answered "Well, I'm going to stop traffic for you".

So she did.  She stepped forward, expertly held out her hand and swung that sign around to "STOP" so that I could push the stroller (and Quinn) to the nearest bit of unmolested sidewalk.  On Main Street. In the middle of the afternoon.  It was crazy!  I sauntered down the middle of the road, the divider a foot or two to my left, past the giant machines (I have to admit I was a little spooked) and safely onto the sidewalk... a trip that had to take at least a full minute.  I could feel the traffic building up behind me and knew it had to be solid cars halfway to Orangeville.  I got to the sidewalk, flashed her a thumbs up and traffic started again.  I wasn't paying attention but I am sure I got more than one dirty look.  We opted to walk home from there;  it was a hot one broken only by a few shady spots which we took advantage of.  When Sean came home I regaled him with this story only to have him say "It's a good thing you had that giant umbrella with you for shade!"  Yeah.  Good thing.  (Dammit!)

Wednesday was a big day for both babies as we followed up with the pediatrician. Zoe weighed in (naked this time) at 12 lbs 14 oz and Wyatt a cool 12 lbs 9 oz.  Our mighty Micro-me has finally surpassed her moose of a brother (which is not surprising due to his hypotonia). They are exactly the same length,  58 cm (or almost 23') which is two centimeters more than Quinn was at birth.  (No wonder I needed that section!) According to the charts, Zoe started her life in the 5th percentile and has now moved up to the 25th. Wyatt remains in the 5th percentile.  At our last visit I asked how Wyatt was doing on the DS growth charts and was answered with "I wasn't aware there were such charts".  You'll permit me the mental high-five I gave myself when she added "...but he is at the 25th percentile on the Down Syndrome Chart" this time.  Score one for Advocate Mommy!

She was quite pleased at their progress over all.  Zoe was in a bit of a playful mood and when she tired of rolling to her side and scrabbling to get the box of wipes, she started going after the paper on the table.  Even as I was pulling her away she continued to frantically grab at it with both her chubby mitts and try to eat it.  It was hysterical.  I had to hold her for the rest of the appointment (which was fine as she is content looking around).  When I put her down to change her she rolled over and tried to crawl to the paper mess again.  Our pediatrician was amazed and remarked that it was very unusual in a preemie that age to be so mobile and it was a testimony to the amount of floor time and the kind of stimulation they got.  (Mental high-five number two!  Yay!) 

"Globally delayed"?  I didn't get THAT memo...

We also got the official go-ahead to stop the formula top-up (oh thank you!).  It isn't as easy as just cutting it out at this stage however;  I have to taper everything.  First will be a week of top up with formula in every other bottle, then a period of every other feed having EBM only top up and then taking it from there.  I'm still going to have to pump to make sure that the supply isn't impacted either.  I may never be able to stop pumping after a feed, but time will tell.

That particular trip home was easy as Sean picked us all up.  I got to tell him how awesome all the kids were, including Quinn who patiently sat through yet another appointment and carefully wrote down everyone's weight and measurements.  It was a stark contrast to the outburst he had before the appointment (where he threw a fit and refused to go).  He's growing up too...

I know not all of our appointments are going to end so well.  There will be a point in the future where Wyatt will have his AVSD operated on.  However, I hope that we will continue to have good news and be validated by their development and good health.  I am aware that we may be "honeymooning" with the twins right now and that is okay.  With my return to work date coming fast I feel that we deserve this time together.  That is okay too.  We are moving forward, all of us as a family and meeting our own various milestones.  Right now everything, dare I say it, seems to be all right. Wyatt is just Wyatt and his DS is just something he has, like his blue eyes.  It doesn't define him, or his sister.  Or us either.  It simply is.

That, ladies and gentleman, is a milestone unto itself.  At least for me.

So There Ought to Be

It has been a week of firsts with my family.  Some were better than others, some were simply fantastic.  With our twins, especially Wyatt, we have learned to see even the smallest milestones for what they are:  wondrous little victories.

We started out last Friday with our first big road trip with the babies.  As I have mentioned numerous times before, going anywhere with these babies is quite an undertaking.  With one baby, you have to pack up his or her room... with two babies, you have to pack up most of the house.  We tested the limits of our cargo space last weekend and I have to admit a begrudging acceptance of the Whaaambulance.  Two babies, three days.  Aside from our suitcase and Quinn's bag, bike and bag of toys we had the following:  two baby swings, two bouncy chairs, two bumbos, diapers for two (half a bag), wipes, two bags of blankets (one with receiving blanket/burp cloths/towels and one with heavy quilts),  a bag of baby toys, bottles, pump, nursing pillow, formula powder, sterilizer and a rolling carry-on full of baby clothes. I had a cooler full of bottles and a frozen stash of EBM.  I took my own bottle brush, drain tray and dish soap for the bottles.  I took my own laundry detergent in case I had to wash baby clothes.  It was nuts! Luckily they had a play pen there so that saved us another bulky item.  The only things that didn't get used were the bumbos, the dish soap (they didn't use antibacterial) and the laundry detergent (I washed everything when we got home).  Everything else was used at least once. 

Aside from the supply truck that you need with the twin road trip, there is also the set up and the implementation.  By now we have a pretty set routine around here;  where we keep the supplies, where we change and feed, where we do everything.  I have diaper stations and supplies on every floor of the house and set places that I keep things... now I had to figure that out somewhere else.  I tried to keep from descending on the in-laws like a swarm of locusts but some things could not be helped.  It is busy with twins;  there is always something that you have to be doing. Unlike at my house where I can and do leave dirty bottles in water in the sink for hours on end (to save time... I do the wash up once or twice a day), you can't do this elsewhere.  I was constantly washing and cleaning up something.  Plus I eat like a horse and drink copious amounts even when it is not hot... My five year old was running around wild as it was someplace new and hubby and I were snapping at each other as we couldn't find things.  The temperature soared, the babies didn't sleep very well and Zoe screamed a lot.  I'm sure we were the guests from hell.  Despite all of that, we did have a good time.

We also went to a family reunion where we had a great time.  I was so busy catching up and visiting that I didn't even think of getting out the camera until it was too late.  There was a group shot taken of everyone there so I look forward to seeing that.  It was very hot, but we visited with lots of good people and had a lot of good food.  Baby wrangling is a lot easier when others want to hold them.  :)

High maintanence?  Us?

We also received some handouts from Infant and Child Development to help Wyatt strengthen his muscles and develop.  They aren't as much exercises as positions to place him in to play.  Most are ways that we hold him to begin with, so that was a bit validating.  Each has a list of things to encourage, a list of what this particular position helps to do and play ideas for when you are doing each one. We've started consciously adding them into our day as much as possible.

Sizing up the O-pponent (before exercising with the O-Ball)

Our other firsts this week belong to Wyatt who can now roll over AND giggle.  I missed the very first roll as I found him on his tummy, but eventually I saw him do it.  Zoe is an old pro and lands in perfect position with her head up (not bad for two weeks practice),

Rolling Zoe

but Wyatt is still trying to steady his noggin. One day...

Keep on Rollin' Wyatt!

The first giggle totally caught me by surprise last night.  Sean was bathing Zoe and I was playing with Wyatt in the crib.  Since he is so flexible and we are encouraging him to grab his feet, I had his legs and was playing with his feet.  I tapped his nose with his big toes and he smiled.  I put one of his feet on either side of his face;  the smile got wider and there it was, the cutest "ahuh huh hee hee".  I squeaked and ran to tell Sean, tears in my eyes.  I guess I freaked him out as I couldn't get him to do it again, but I look forward to many more giggles with my little man.

Every new first with a baby is magical.  Every new first with twins is doubly so as you get to see it repeated at a later time and in a slightly different way.  We have the added little extra of seeing it repeated in the DS way.  I have always wanted a house filled with laughter and I believe we are well on our way of achieving that little victory as well.  After all, these are the things that matter most;  the little milestones that not only bring us closer to our goals, but also to each other in our journey.  Although each new little thing means my babies are growing up, our discovery of new things together brings us together with much wonderment and joy.  If that is not magic, I don't know what is.

"When the first baby laughed for the first time, the laugh broke into a thousand pieces and they all went skipping about, and that was the beginning of fairies. And now when every new baby is born its first laugh becomes a fairy. So there ought to be." -- James Matthew Barrie

The Upside of Down

It is only Thursday and I am pooped.  It has been a very busy week so far (and will continue to be so), but we have had a few nagging questions addressed. I am happy to report that these answers have brought a lot of relief and comfort.

As I mentioned previously,  Our worker from Infant and Child Development Services came Monday morning.  Their workers come from a variety of backgrounds including ECE, Psychology, OT, Nursing... ours comes from an ECE and Developmental Psychology background, which suited me fine. She came in, introduced herself... and spent over two hours chatting with me and playing with the babies on the floor.  It was great.  Quinn was in fine form as well;  when he heard that she had arrived, he hurried to get dressed.  Unfortunately, he missed the pile of clothes that I had left on his bed for him (shorts and a t shirt as it was going to be a very hot day).  Instead, he came down in brown track pants and a light coloured pullover with a collar on backwards.  He came right up to us on the floor and sweetly announced "Hi, I'm Quinn" while wearing what looked like a straitjacket. That's m'boy.  She didn't bat an eye... I guess she was too busy gazing into his.  I sent my little lunatic upstairs to change and we got on with the assessment which was only occasionally punctuated by an off the wall [to us] but perfectly pertinent [to him] statement or question.

The whole conversation, like my brain, was very tangential and informal. It totally centered around what the kids were doing.  Both babies were awake and alert and ready to show their stuff.

Listen... they're talking about us again...

Wyatt's head is getting a little more steady every day, which is very encouraging.  "A."  was happy that Zoe could push herself up on her forearms and showed me a little trick to help them master it.  Overall she was very pleased with Wyatt's development;  she remarked on a few things, including his vocalizations, his mouth shapes during these vocalizations and his ability to track by sound and sight.  He also reaches well for things.  A. continued by listing off a few things that I can do to help both of them improve and I was very happy to hear they were things that I was already doing.  Little things such as ankle/wrist rattles, using the dangling toys on the Gymini-jillikers (Gymini play mat), the simple toys I was using, talking to them, imitating their sounds, changing their environment, introducing texture, playing music for them, singing and so on.  We talked about their delivery, Wyatt's diagnosis, their stay in the NICU and how we managed that... even Zoe's surgery.  She was amazed that a) I managed to make it to Mother Goose at all and b) how I was "handling" everything.  Sometimes you have to have things pointed out to you and I am no exception.  I guess our story is a little incredible if you think about it.  A. made a point of relaying how well she thought Team Logan worked together and how well we have dealt with our roller coaster lives over the last two years or so.  I told her that all you can do is laugh sometimes, and cited the dishwasher (which died a horrible leaky death the night before).  What are you going to do?  That's life.

Many of our questions were finally answered.  Infant and Child Development Services sets you up with whatever extended services you might need, such as OT, speech therapists, etc.  Usually, speech therapy and the like start after 1 year of age.  The idea being that you assess where the child is with their speech, etc at that time and then intervene appropriately.  We talked about Wyatt's physical health and swimming was discussed.  I was surprised that they don't recommend exersaucers and jolly-jumpers and the like, but she went on to say that many parents leave their children in them for hours at a time where they are standing on their toes and that interferes with proper leg and foot development.  She did add that 10 or 15 mins here and there would be fine and would be helpful, but no more.  A. went on to say that the best place for them would be just as I had them, on the floor, where they could grow and stretch and build their muscles in a more natural way. 

ICDSP also has a ton of resources for us to utilize:  They have toy and book/video libraries, will and estate planning, evaluating eligibility for and setting up government funding, groups and programs tailored for your needs... and the list goes on.  They will also be involved before Wyatt starts school;  the spring before he starts JK, we (A, the OT, any other development specialists, the teacher, the principal and Sean and myself) will all meet and discuss exactly what his needs are and whether or not he will need additional support in the classroom.  I guess at the time we will also discuss whether our school separates twins or not, but that is another issue.  Even though I knew that he would be going to regular classes like a regular kid, for some reason hearing it from this woman made me relax a little.  I don't know why... perhaps, once again, a small amount of validation can go a long way.  She will be visiting us monthly for the first while to assess his continuing development, which I was also pleased to hear.  I found the whole experience to be extremely positive;  Wyatt's doing well, we are doing well and we are doing the right things for him.  I don't think it gets better than that.

That night we took them to our GP for their 4 month shots.  I'm not so sure of their scale to be honest, but according to it, Zoe weighs 12 lbs, 6 oz and Wyatt weighs 12 lbs.  Zoe has officially beaten her brother in the weight department (you can chalk that up to the muscle tone).  Our Family Doctor was pleased overall with their progress and gave them a shot in each thigh.  I had Sean hold them down... I couldn't bear to do that again.  They were reasonable that night, but were feverish yesterday...  light to no clothes and Tylenol seems to have taken care of that for us.

Tuesday we had a trip to the cardiologist and once again, the kids were on.  I really do like going there as everyone is so friendly and very helpful.  We didn't have to sedate Wyatt (which is always a relief) and it was such a pleasure to watch the babies interact with the staff.  There were a few awkward spots especially when Zoe started crying right when we were doing an echo on Wyatt, but one of the staff just walked over and got her to smile as if this happened every day.  Wyatt had his checkup and his echo and the Dr. is so pleased with his progress that we do not have to see him for another 6 months.  Fantastic! 

We had a happy little moment on the way out as well.  Quinn was playing with a new friend in the waiting room and when we were leaving, I was delighted to see that the (younger) boy he was playing with so easily had DS.  I introduced myself to the boy and his mother and talked to Quinn that his new friend had the same condition that Wyatt has.  "But, they don't look the same" was his reply, to which I responded that "G" looked like his family while Wyatt looks like ours.  I don't even think Quinn noticed that his new playmate was non-verbal... they totally "got" each other.  "G"'s mom was very pleased with the interaction and I was too...  as it was just a little heartwarming glimpse into the future.

It is always good to hear good things about your kids, it's even better to be given the reassurance that they are doing well and most importantly that you are doing the right things for them.  Although I think we are pretty good parents and we strive to be the best that we can for our kids, it is good to have that little extra bit of validation.  Armed with that, we can continue on knowing that Wyatt (and all our kids) will be the best that they can be.  We may not be able to predict Wyatt's journey, but his path will take him places... of that I am sure.

Wyatt intently listening to big brother Quinn

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Photo Catch-Up Friday, Part 1.

Every so often I have to take some time out and catch up on my photos.  The babies are growing and changing so fast and so much has happened in the last couple of weeks... it was either try to catch up now or lose track.

A little over two weeks ago, we went to Sean's Aunt's to meet up with his Grandma and introduce Wyatt and Zoe (and we could wish her a happy 90th birthday).  Wyatt and Grandma made quite a pair, while Zoe... wasn't so amiable. I couldn't get a decent picture of all three of them, but here is a good one of Grandma.

Wyatt and his Great-Grandma

A few days later, I was in the kitchen washing up all the bottles...

How to kill half an hour...

...and I went to check on the babies.  They were napping on a blanket on the living room floor.  I had put them down side by side and they had wiggled around and fallen asleep with Zoe on her side and Wyatt's head in her lap.  It was too much.

So happy together...

I got to sneak around them and take a few more pics as they woke up.  So very cute.  So badly lit, but so very cute.

Little Boy Blue and Pretty in Pink

Canada Day was a lot of fun.  After my Please Mum score of a few days before, I had the kids outfitted in patriotic cuteness.

This of course, was only outdone by Zoe's latest milestone:

Oooh!  Look what I can do!

There was a giant pile of meat and good friends to help us eat:

Giant Meat Pile... *drool*

Good food, good friends

There were two sets of twins (and only one Quinn):

Two sets of twins... and a Quinn

Then, as dusk crept in, they made the night sparkle!

Ty, Erin and Quinn.  The Terror Trio, now with fire!

Fun for all the kids... from 4 months to 40.

My garden, such as it is this year, has a few new friends and a few beautiful old ones.  I will post those later.

Until then... Jxox