Different things.

A couple weekends ago Jeff took a couple days off only to come down with Strep Throat.  But, that gave me even more of an excuse to leave him here, take the kids, and go visit with Lora, who came up from Laramie to hang.  To make a REALLY long story short and sweet, Jeff suffered along with my house, all weekend.  And, a messy house + Cole + his coat + strawberries shoved into his pockets for a snack =  a smell very similar to a poopy diaper  that was shoved somewhere and forgotten about,  and many panic-attacks from me, until I found the smell-culprit.   (I was equal parts pissed and relieved--pissed because, strawberries in your pocket?  Really Cole?  In what universe is that a good idea?  And relieved because it WASN'T a poopy diaper, and my chance of being showcased as an unfit mother in the show, Hoarders, was lessened).  

Anyhoo, I had fun with Lora and Muff.  It was nice to pretend I wasn't a parent for a while...Riley and Cole played with cousins and Sydney stayed with Jeff for most of the time.  And when I came home, the house stunk, and Jeff was still a bit sick, but I felt relaxed.  Sometimes I forget that besides a mom, I'm also a person.  I decided it would be nice to take more time to do girly stuff with girls my age.  Women my age, whatever.  You know what I mean.  And if you're judging me for last weekend, I will tell you that last weekend I took Riley and Syd and two of Riley's friends to the mall.  On a Saturday, and they got to go on their own for a while, and then meet me back afterwards.  It was, what I imagine, parts of Hell to be like.  But, they had fun, so all was well.  Right?  Sometimes I let them do good stuff.  (Fyi:  Cole was invited to go, but he doesn't like the mall, and he wanted to watch online cartoons  All.  By.  Himself).

Anyway,  what else?  Syd has been going to her Kids Who Count classes, and she's made a ton of improvements, already.  She seems to understand so much more, and I've been taught a few really great things to help encourage more eye contact and such.  I'm thinking it's going to continually get better.  And let's see...Riley "graduated" from D.A.R.E, and the essay she wrote was so phenomenal that they asked her to read it in front of the school.  And fyi?  She did fantastically.  

As you can see, I'm loving my new iPhone camera App.  It's got so many filters and though I'm still figuring it out, it's big fun.  And lastly:  Ta-Da!!!  It's HERE!  

I bought some today.  And this is the kind that I really was excited to try.  Remember how I said that Jeff would be doing all the packaging for this product, the brewed chocolate?  This particular kind has coconut in it, antioxidants, vitamins, and so on and so forth.  I'm loving it.  And Shauna? You can buy it at the Spanish Fork Maceys, or any Maceys in the valley, just so you know.  It's in the coffee section.  But for those of you that are freaking out, it's NOT coffee.  It's cacao.  Or chocolate, whatever.  It's too complicated to explain, and you can find out more at www.criobru.com
I add a little milk, and a little creamer, and viola!  It's freaking awesome.  But it's not sugary.  It's a lot like coffee in that if you want it to be sweet, you have to sweeten it.  

 
It's fantastic.  I promise.  Jeff gave me a French Press for Christmas, so I'm a very, VERY happy girl.  :)
I hope you all have an excellent week.  And then a great weekend.  Jeff and I are going away for his birthday.  And being that it's going to be the first time that we've been away from Syd since her BIRTH, it's a bit scary.  But really exciting.  Whoot! (And Fyi?  I know that the "h" isn't necessary, however, when I say it, I add an h.  A very audible h.  So there). 

The dog days are over.

I really love that song.  I mean, I wanted to start this post with its lyrics...however, after Googling them, I realized I've been singing it wrong all this time, and that the meaning is completely opposite than I had originally thought.   I still love it and I'm feeling like the title, at least, satisfactorily explains how I'm feeling thus far.  So I'll use it.  I am pretty bummed I was wrong with the lyrics...especially since the way I sang it was way better.  
Similarly, I used to sing The Clash's "Rock the Casbah", as "rock the cash box".  Which to me, makes WAY more sense.  And is something I would totally rock if I had the access.  Jeff still makes fun of me.  But, I still sing it my way to myself.  Cause it makes sense to me.  And I feel like had I have been around at that time, The Clash totally would have loved my take.  You know I'm right.
Anyhoo.  I digress.  

I also just found out that The Dog Days Are Over has been featured on Glee.  (Haven't seen it, yet). And, though I enjoy watching that show, I'm a hypocrite in the respect that I kinda have to consider bands as sell-outs when they just give their works over to it.  Or sell them.  Whatevs.  In any case, it kinda bums me out that no one has any qualms about having a bunch of spoiled actors belting out music that was written with one intent, only to be featured and squeezed into 45 minutes of fake high school drama.  (And usually have the audacity to do it better than the original).  That's a tangent I'll not start tonight.
The Dog Days are Over.  And I'm using that to put an end to my February drama.  It hasn't fully been abolished or anything, but I'm honestly trying to adjust my attitude in a positive way.  I've been going over previous posts and this seems to be a cyclic thing that I do each and every year.  However, I guess the point is to continue trying, right?  Not succumb to the fact that I have come to rely on having the appropriate downs for the highs in my life. 
I went to Relief Society on Sunday.  "YAY for Rainey!!!!!!!"  Just cause I felt that it was needed. And it was.  A lot of the time I come away thinking, "that was nice".  And it is.  It's nice to sit for an hour in a room full of women that are nice, and experience a lot of the things that are similar to my life.  Sometimes it's borrrrrring. And sometimes I have a hard time looking at Sister so-and-so after she's gone on for twenty minutes about something that I completely disagree with or don't care about. (Oddly enough this doesn't happen as often in my new ward...I think it's because all of the members are older, and less naive about what being a "good person" entails).  But there are times when I feel like I made a connection, and feel like I heard something I really needed to hear at that exact second.  Regardless of how terrible and hedonistic that makes me sound, I want to put in the human factor, as well.  That I am human...that I'm a Mormon that's trying to do the best that I can do...and though I fail miserably in comparison with a ton of other Mormons that I know, I'm honestly okay with it.  I'm good with knowing what my limitations and priorities are.  Will I go to Hell for just stating that?  I don't know.  But I'd also have to add "great big religious liar" to my list of faults, if I didn't.  Anyway, moving on.

The lesson was:  "Stop being so hard on ourselves".  And, especially after the past month I have had, it was like a message just for me.  Honestly, I think that in a lot of areas I'm easier on myself than I should be.  Like exercise, diet, sleeping hours, and then all my numerous daily time-sucks that have no real value.  But, I'm hard on myself when it comes to being a mom.  Am I ever doing enough?  No.  And when I think about it, I get very overwhelmed.    And when I think about whether or not I'm being compassionate enough, or charitable enough, I never measure up in those areas, either.  Then there's the fact that I'm undereducated, and uninterested in developing different skills, and so on and so forth.  Anyway, I realized that even people that have no real understanding of me or knowledge of me, have their own issues with all these things.  And sadly, this is another cyclical thing that happens in my psyche.  Some days I am content with trying and other days I'm really frustrated because I failed to accomplish.  So right now, I'm back to being okay with just keeping busy; and trying to learn what I can do to maybe help Sydney understand the things she has a hard time with.  And understanding that it doesn't happen miraculously in a single week, like my dreams sometimes portray.  And taking pleasure in her accomplishments.  Rather than expecting something even more grand to happen next, I need to enjoy each and every little step.  Like when she called my phone an "iDod", (iPod).  Pretty amazing when you think about it.  And so different from my other kids.  The world has changed so much in only eight years.  I need to keep remembering that, as well.  And I'm trying.  Each day, each new word, or sign, or dance, or whatever, I'm trying. So, now to stuff NOT about me...

This is Riley in her class, during her wax museum project.  She isn't showing it here, but she was VERY professional as Elenore Roosevelt and wax-like when we came in.  All the 5th graders had a red button you could push, and then they'd stand and spout whatever details they had memorized for the person they were imaging.  Riley got the award for "most wax-like", and it was very well deserved, because she impressed me with her professionalism through all the passersby.  (Cause, when you impress me, that's when I KNOW it's good). Syd had fun there, too.  

The buttons weren't as fun to push, as to take, so the 5th graders kind of just sat there, and looked panicked whenever one of their buttons was taken and thrown to the ground, courtesy of Squid.
It's not an easy task to take her anywhere, but she sure enjoys being in the thick of everything.  Or destroying it.

Last weekend Riley came to me with a HUGE snarl in the back of her hair.  She has been asking to have it cut short, but Jeff has told her he likes it long, and reminds her that after he'd cut her hair when she was little, she'd always want it long again.  So she would then tell me she needed a trim, because I sometimes do that for her.  She's like me...she hates to wait for any type of hair appointment.  And I kick myself in the butt, every time.  This time, I kicked hers.  
Thinking I'd take about three inches off, just till her birthday, when she gets some color put in it, I didn't worry about being too careful.  And then I went and cut a super huge chunk out.  Like, between five and seven inches.  How?  I don't know.  I was due for a nap, but that's my life, usually.  So I'm not sure how I failed so miserably.  
Anyway, after seeing that ginormous chunk of hair on the floor, the only thing to do next was to try to even it up.  And that was a fiasco as well.  So off to Walmart we went.  On a Saturday.  Because it was an emergency.  For reals.  
For the record, she was willing to deal with it.  But I remember having the "spike" in my fifth grade class.  And it was because of a haircut gone totally awry.  And not surprisingly, it wasn't as punk as you'd think.  It was more like is she a she?  Or a he?  And I got a lot of questions on the topic.  Riley's hair wasn't as dramatic, but it was uneven.  And it DID look like her mother, Rainey Anderson, cut it.  Which is no sort of compliment.  So I had to see if my mistake could be kinda remedied.  

I was a bit nervous.  The lady that did it kept asking Riley HER opinions on this or that, and I kept telling myself that Riley's almost 11, she should be able to answer, no matter how many times I wanted to yell, "WAIT!  I don't think she gets what you're asking..."  The end result was a bit scary for me, as well.  It was shorter than it's been in a long time, and I had told the lady not to fix it...I've learned the hard way that no matter what type of style you get at Walmart, you let them style it, and you go home in tears.  So I waited to see how we could work it out, and as you could see, Riley loved it.  She was really happy.  I wan't as convinced.

But after some product and actually putting some effort into her bangs--not work.  Effort.  I think it turned out really cute.  And it really fits her.  It's easier for her to wash, and she has no regrets.  So all is well.  
Before I end this post, I feel like I should say something about Cole.  But honestly?  He's so consumed with Pokemon right now that it's all he talks about, thinks about, draws, and watches.  And when he tries to tell me Pokemon stuff, I feel myself reacting the same exact way I did in Pre-calc, when I was in it those two weeks before dropping it like a hot potato.  I disconnect and go to a place that's far, far away from anything Pokemon.  But, I guess we all need our little pleasures, right?  Cause the dog days are over.  Now for the fun stuff.  Or at least the better-than-wretched-stuff.

I've been called out.

I don't like the month of February.  I never have.  Now, before those that have birthdays, or children's birthdays, or whatever in this month take offense, this does not mean I don't like you.  Or them.  I just don't like February.  It's short.  I know it's only like, three or four days, but that throws me off.  I'm always relieved to see March because it means that I've paid all my bills and gotten all the appointments and such out of the way--and now life kind of gets back to a normal pace.  I know it's just weird.  I know it makes no sense.  But I also know that I'm the girl that takes two weeks to get used to daylight savings and springing forward time changes.  (Which I also hate, btw. Springing forward, especially).  
When times were harder, financially, February used to kill us.  I dreaded it all year long...and it's become habit, I guess.  I thought I would make it an entire month before posting again--letting all my February crap settle before I took to my keyboard.  However, Amy told me that I needed to blog.  And it's 3:36 am.  And I feel really, really sick.  Like, the when you have the flu.  And all your body just aches.  And you're so tired, and your head is fuzzy...but you can't really relax.  I think Syd has the same thing, because she was tired at like, 8:00pm tonight.  After waking up from her nap at 6. (This will all become more relevant, soon...I'm just setting stuff up).  Basically, I'm sick, I'm tired, and I'm trying to explain myself after I've been out of the game for a while.  So bear with me.


Today Sydney had her first meeting with the Speech Therapist.  Not surprisingly, she qualified for help.  Kids who Count have to first assess your child, see where they are on some sort of scale, and if they qualify, your child will be accepted into the program.  With her physical skills, she would have been passed over, the Therapist told me.  She's got mad physical skills.  :)  However, because she's really low on commonly used words, and she didn't get that she had to "feed the teddy bear with the spoon", (It was a whole bit in the series of tests), and she had no interest in pointing out to the Therapist the items on her laminated pages, she scored so low that it balanced everything out.  Thus, Syd is now official.  Officially what, I'm not exactly sure...but we are now totally committed to this program.  I'm relieved.  I'm glad that she's getting help, and that I'm getting help.  Because this has been something that's been eating at me for a while now. 
I'm also kind of sad.  I know kids develop at their own levels.  And I don't know if it's because I'm not feeling my best anyway, but I guess what it comes down to, is that I don't want anyone to tell me that my kid is sub-par.  Does that make sense?  I started tearing up when the Therapist, who was really kind and fun, btw, but when she started telling me how Syd was going to score.  Having someone put a number on your--I can't even think of what to call her, because her importance to me is greater than anything I can think of at this moment, but having someone put a number on that, is rough.  Especially when they break it down and tell you what it means in respect to all the other supposed children out there.  That she's really behind.  That even crack-babies are talking better than she is.  And before you assume I've just caught whatever Charlie Sheen has and will now start saying the most asinine things you've ever heard as truth, let me say that I KNOW that's a terrible way to think.  But I thought it.  And it broke my heart for her, and for me...because I'm so rotten and I think such awful things.  Please believe me when I say that I honestly am contrite about my thoughts.  Some of the time I really hate the things that I find in my head, however fleeting they may be.   
Syd was tired.  I would have put her down for a nap, but the Therapist had a cancellation and so she came right at Syd's nap time.  And let me say that she was a good girl.  And for the first thirty minutes she really tried.  But then she was done, and she was ready for bed, and she was pretty pissed that we apparently weren't getting all her hints.  Or allowing her hints to pass as her telling us she was done, and ready to sleep.  So she resorted to crying that mad cry when she stares at you and keeps getting louder and louder, until you give her what she wants.  It's a fairly easy system to figure out, I'm sure she's not too happy about me trying to change the rules.  
Anyway, that's all I'll say about that for now.  There's a lot of things I'd like to say, but I can't really be held accountable for my thoughts around 4 am.  Because usually they seem to be bleak and destructive towards myself.  
I will say this, though.  If Oprah were to have a couple kids, and then have to worry about them being on the norm with everyone else, she would be more of a yo-yo dieter than she already is.  Because I am in a place right now where I am literally all over the place.  Sometimes I can't eat anything because there's too much to do, and I'm too distracted.  And then other times I can't stop myself from eating a ton of some kind of comfort food at a ridiculous time.  I think this hurts my mental state, as well as my physical state.  Because I seem to be on the verge of tears a lot...and hating myself for various reasons.  And I don't say this for sympathy...I say it for solidarity, maybe?  Like, does this happen to others?  I've mentioned the person I blog-stalk just so I can be mad at them for the rest of the week because they say dumb things.  Things that are something straight out of high school, and try to pass it off as healthy adulthood.  I don't know why I read their stuff.  Sometimes I fantasize about responding to them, and I have so many great things to say...so many burns that they'd be crying for weeks.  And then I realize that that's MY high school self coming out, as well.  The one that I didn't recognize then, but do now as a definite bully.  
Anyway, do I live my life that way?  I wonder this, sometimes.  I try to tell myself that I'm not overly shallow and boring, but maybe I am.  Maybe I'm that person that others turn to when they just need to hate someone or something. 
On that note, I hope March brings better things.  I hope I can be more positive and generous and less angry.  I hope I can improve so I'm not in the "permanently bitchy and pessimistic" section on the scale of my life.  This was all way too much information.  But that's kind of why I've been pretty quiet in the blogging world lately.  I'm trying to be better.  I think a new month will help.

Thanks.

I wanted to respond to all your comments via post, rather than commenting in the appropriate section.  Because I know I have a lot of things to say and why not give you all a "pretend post" to glance over while you're faking your way through work?  
First off, the relief I feel is very freeing.  I have been able to sleep, and that in itself has made me feel less anxious and heartsick.  I don't know what I would do without sleep.  I would need to be locked up or something, because life looks a lot more dreary without it.  
Anyway, Kids Who Count called me today.   They made another appointment for Syd a week from today to have two specialists come out and give me their assessment of her.  I'm a little nervous, because no matter what, whenever there is any kind of "test" to be taken, I worry.  But I'm going into this knowing two things.  One, Syd is smart--she can figure stuff out that Cole still has a hard time with.  And two, she's really started to learn more and more in the last few days.  Also, I think having Peggy come out and exceed my expectations gave me a new view.  I'm less down on myself for Syd having hardships.  We are gelling more, and she's honestly trying, and I've found that I have more patience, and more readily accept that it will take time. 
More on that as it unfolds.

Again, much thanks for all your stories, inquiries, support, and just all-round good vibes.  It's all been felt.  I know that a couple of weeks ago between Cole and his gluten intolerance, and Syd's little meltdowns here and there, I was ready for a vacation.  From my life.  And the sad part is, I know that my problems, in comparison to a lot of people out there, are quite minimal.  But they always feel bigger.  

 I also said I really felt alone in this...and before, I was a bit afraid to blog about it.  Because it's personal.  You know, she's my baby.  

But I should have been more confident in your willingness to show love and help, and most of all, understanding.  I guess it's true that we all love someone more than we knew possible.  And they hold such a private and special place in our hearts.  And we share that feral, fighting protectiveness over them.
Brandi, Keri, Kory, Kyle, Lora, and Sharon.  Thanks for your love and concern.  
Amy, Erinn, Kass, Leah, and Sarah C-B:  I appreciated your sharing stories of concern about your little ones.  You know, to me, it's easy to see how smart and loving and confident all your kids are.  Whether it be in pictures, or just seeing them as they are around you.  I think Leah's comment of the Lord giving us our babies specifically to US is completely true.  We know them.  They know us, and we usually can give them the leeway they need to let them be them.  
However, sometimes life interferes.  And it's hard to keep perspective when you're so close to everything.  (And Moriah, I should have just told myself to rely on your advice about everything, because you were totally right all along--just like you always are).   :)
Leah, I feel like you nailed a lot of what I feel in your comment.  I do have a lot of guilt...because I drank Diet Mountain Dew while I was pregnant.  Because I was taking anti-depressants up until the day that I found out I was pregnant.  Because I'm so unhappy and uncomfortable while I'm pregnant, and I fear that the baby picks up on that, just by growing inside of me.  And I worry that somehow my babies think that's their fault.  Jeff tries to understand, but he just doesn't know what all that feels like.  I was supposed to give her this place to have the best start possible...and I wasn't perfect.  So sometimes I think that all that guilt that usually is put aside after you have the baby, hangs around...and then pounces when anything remotely negative or worrisome rears its head.
It's never meant to be easy, I think.  I'm always paranoid when things are going too smoothly, as well...so I guess I'm never satisfied.  But I know I'm loved.  And I know Sydney is loved, and I have  friends and family that honestly care and are willing to share their hardships, in order to help me get through mine.  I'm a lucky girl.  Love to you all.  

Walking on Sunshine.

Have you ever heard that song?  It's dumb.  Also, I've always thought it's a stupid saying.  Walking on sunshine isn't only impossible, but would be hot, and uncomfortable, and the end result would be agonizing death.  You know.  Stuff like that.
 However, in the sense that it's a way of saying life is great, and happiness abounds, I'll use it.  Sorry I didn't get posting earlier, but yesterday we were at a baptism, (way to go, Mags!) and then I had a bazillion errands to run.  And then today, while people were watching the Super Bowl, I was sleeping.  In fact, I went to bed this morning around 1:00 am, and didn't get up until 2:00 pm--when I woke up for about two seconds. I felt guilty about sleeping so long and asked Jeff what time it was, then found myself waking up again at 3:45, feeling like I could probably have gone back to bed until Monday, but thought that would have made me a bad wife and mother.  And I've already got enough marks against me, for sure.

Big thanks to Jeff for letting me sleep in so much.  This past week my anxiety was out of control...and I was getting about 3 1/2 hours of sleep each night.  I got a couple of naps during the days that Jeff was home, but they were filled with dreams about all the unsavory crap that was clouding my thoughts, and how it could possibly get worse, so I didn't count it as actual rest.  And though with his work he hasn't been getting any sleep either, but he still knew that I was at the breaking point, and let me have my zzzzz's.  Very nice of him.
So.  Friday Morning.  I got up with the kids, and took them to school, and Sydney woke up early, so I got her out of bed and we played.  She had been up late the night before, and I REALLY didn't want her to be bratty and whiny during Peggy's (from Kids who Count), time observing her.  We watched one of her videos, and she actually pointed and tried to say different parts of different words.  But only partials.  I was great with it, though...I'm all about seeing her try.  And I had her eat a big breakfast, and we read some books, and spun in the Lazy Boy for a while...and then she got a little grouchy around 12:30 and I put her down for a nap, for which she was very ready.
It was then time for me to get myself prepared.  I picked up the living room and kitchen.  And then took my shower and tried to think about how to tell Jeff what my meeting was about.  He came into the bathroom as I was almost done showering and I told him that my meeting was with a lady from Kids Who Count, and he asked why, and I told him that the day before had been really hard, and that I'd blogged about it.  So maybe if he wanted to read that first, and then ask me questions later, that would be the easiest way to explain.  He said okay, and then left me to finish getting ready for the afternoon.  
Honestly I was afraid he'd be upset.  Not that he doesn't want the best for Sydney, he just doesn't see her development in the questionable way that I do.  He's that guy that doesn't care about people talking to her, only to have her not even make eye contact and pretend she doesn't hear them.  He'll ask me why that bugs me, and I want everyone to see what I see:  A beautiful, sweet little girl that's smart and funny and sassy.  I don't want them to think that something's wrong with her.  And Jeff is like, "You know how she is, you know who she is.  So why does it matter what anyone else thinks?"  

I know that it shouldn't matter to me the way it does.  But the fact is, it does.  And when I see so many people question, it makes me question.  And the biggest question is "Am I doing enough for her?"  And I honestly appreciate Jeff's confidence in Syd.  If I didn't have him, I'd be a total mess.  I do rely on his short and to the point way of telling me that I am just worrying for no reason, and making life harder than it needs to be.  I know that sounds like I don't have confidence in her, and that's not right, either.  Maybe it's mostly not having confidence in myself.  
Anyway, when I came out of the bathroom he asked a few questions, and I was ready to defend myself, and it turned out that I didn't need to.  He acknowledged that I really have worried, and there was no problem in seeing what they'd say, he just didn't want me to take something that they said, and turn it into this huge negative ordeal.  And I never do that.  So I don't even know why he brought that up.  ;)

Anyway, I explained my point of view and cried during the entire process, cause that's how I do it, and he patiently listened to me.  When I was done, he said "The thing that I worry about is that you're shorting yourself of enjoying Syd.  She's only going to be this age once."  And I've talked to Muff about this a lot, and she's said the same thing.
I agree with both of them.  I honestly hate thinking that I'm wasting these years that seem to go way too quickly anyway, trying to change her...and make her grow up.  I hate wasting this time more than anything. And then fear creeps in...fear that maybe I need help.  That maybe she needs help.  You know how I say that ignorance is bliss?  Normally for me, it is.  But not when it comes to my kids.  Ignorance scares the crap out of me. 
I waited for Peggy to show up.  And when she did, Syd was awake and in a happy mood.  And then something fantastic happened.  Syd was ON.  She was funny and sweet, and showed Peggy her Spongebob shirt, and "accidentally" dropped her shirt after she took it off and held onto her cheeks and said, "Oh-oh!"  Which is her version of "Uh-oh", and she showed Peggy where her nose is and showed her toys, and told her the different animal sounds she knows, and so on and so forth.  I was so proud, and impressed and thankful.  Long story short, Syd needs help with her speech.  This isn't news.  But, Peggy told me that she seems very social.  Very interested in her surroundings.  That she's very observant and curious, and willing to listen and try.  
I could have kissed her.  I didn't, just so you know, but I could have.  
And since the meeting?  Syd has been wowing all of us.  It's almost like she IS identical to Jeff.  Like, she knows that I was at my wits end, and I needed some sort of sign.  So she performed.  For me.  I know that Jeff does this, too.  That, sometimes, even though I really try to understand him and accept him for who he is, I ask for a little more.  Just because.  Just because I'm kind of selfish and I need it.  And when I get that way, Jeff gives me what I need, (one of the requirements of being married to someone mentally unstable), and I feel like Syd did the same for me.  
It turns out we will enroll Syd into this program.  I was really worried about cost, because Speech Therapy is quite expensive, and our insurance deductible is insanely high.  However, it turns out that Kids Who Count bases their payment on the family's income, and it will be something we can afford.  And like I said earlier...it really helped Cole.  I guess now that everything is in a positive light, I'm excited to start this program with Sydney.  I think she'll really like it...and I love that a lot of the help they give is in our own home.  That in itself is a hugely positive factor with my kids. 

 I want to thank you all for your love and concern and your patience with me.  And for your words of encouragement and advice.  When it comes to those I love, sometimes the most obvious decisions are the hardest ones to make.  But I think in cases like this, it's so much easier knowing that I have  great friends, and great family and such an awesome support system.  So thanks to you all.  Your support and encouragement means more than you'll ever know.  

Before I lose my nerve.

As people we go to bed at night, and usually contemplate how the day went.  Not that we can make changes while we lay there, but personally, I try to tell myself what I can do differently the next day.  Was it a good day?  Mostly they are.  I'm grateful that they seem to be going in that direction. Sure, I always have little tweaks; little changes that I tell myself I can do, to make the next day more productive or positive.  Content that I've somehow kinda solved whatever problem with whatever reason, I am okay enough that I tell myself, "Do better tomorrow".  And then, being infinitely tired, I can sleep somewhat peacefully.
Today was a bad day.  I mean, really bad.  Not only did I feel pressured in ways that were beyond my control, but I realized that I had allowed something to continually go unsatisfactorily for over a year.  Sydney's development is a constant worry to me.  And I know that I go back and forth and back and forth on what I tell you about her progress.  The truth?  Well, the truth is just that.  One day she blows me away with how smart and funny and sweet she is.  And I overlook the fact that she's only saying the first letter sound of words, and hasn't as of yet ever said anything remotely like a sentence.  And I'm okay with it...honest I am.  She has exceeded my expectations so much, used the appropriate sign language all day, that I'm willing to let not saying any actual words, slide.  And then there are other days.  Days like today when she cries about everything.  And I don't know what she wants.  And I'm so frustrated because can't she just say "juice" or "milk" or "I watch Spongebob!"  How hard is that?  And so I grab a book and start reading it to her, and she doesn't want to listen to me read, she wants to tear the pages out.  So I get one of her board books, and just point to the dog and say "dog" repeatedly until maybe she will say:  "rff, rff".  Because usually she's all about the noises that animals make, and can do them pretty well.  So well, that I overlook the fact that she refuses to actually say "dog".   But that wasn't working, either. 

I found her Baby Einstein DVD, where they teach you little words like "house", and "dog", and "cat", and "cup".  Just some basic stuff that toddlers at Syd's age should be trying to string together with to or more words, to make a crude sentence.  As I got the DVD out, I watched as Syd stood in front of the television and watched the kids make the signs and say the words, and she babbled, copied some signs, and said a lot of "di, di, di," while pointing.  But no words.  
I started thinking about when I  bought that DVD...and how a guy asked me if they really worked for getting your babies to talk.  And I tried to remember how that conversation came about, and where it happened, and why I was talking to some strange guy about children's DVD's.  I remembered he said that he had a baby girl that he wanted to start talking...and I remember he had smelled of cigarette smoke.  Not that I say that in a mean way, I just noticed it.  He was a nice guy, and I couldn't place why I'd been talking to him...in my living room.  
I remembered saying, "they helped my son, I'm hoping they'll help this one," and then Syd running by and climbing onto our couch.  
Then I realized we were in our other house.  

I was talking to to the guy they had sent out to give us an estimate on the tile in our kitchen...almost exactly a year ago.  A sick feeling went through me because I remember I'd worried back then about Syd and her refusal to talk, comforting myself by constantly saying, "She's only 12 months, she's only 13 months, she's only 14 months..." and so on.  And entire year later, not a lot has changed.  That sick feeling that came over me at that discovery hasn't left me all day.  In fact, I called Jeff at work, just because I needed to talk about it with someone that loves and knows Syd like I do.  But he didn't answer.  And that's not his fault, he's been crazy busy.  Like, not eating, not sleeping, living-life-like-a-walking-Zombie-thats-only-motivation-graphic design-rather-than-brain, busy.  He's been pretty down and out, because life has just kinda been passing him by the past couple weeks, and he's not seeing the end of the tunnel just yet.  So I didn't want to bother him more.  When I get a text after asking him what I can do to help his stress and he replies with:  "Kill me?  I haven't eaten or used the restroom all day, and it just doesn't stop", I know he's not up to making me feel better about Sydney's developmental state.  And so I kept this information to myself.  

After a couple more attempts and failures to get her to say something, anything resembling an actual word, I cried and she cried. She was angry, I was angry...it was nap time and we both needed to get some sleep.  But I laid there and thought depressing stuff.  I have found that kids--my kids, develop differently.  And yes.  I know that I can't MAKE Syd change in one day, and trying isn't only crazy, but totally unfair.  But it was one of those days.  Those days when nothing goes right, and it's just too complicated to think about what's ahead of us.  So I got up, and I made a call.  
Tomorrow I have a woman from Kids That Count coming to our house to meet with me and Syd at 2:15.  These are the same people that helped with Cole, only when they worked with him, he was about four months older.  I told Jeff that I have a meeting tomorrow at that time, I didn't tell him why.  Currently he's working on one of THREE projects that must be done by tomorrow morning.  So if he can sleep at all tonight, I will let him.  Plus, I don't want him to talk me out of this.  I think Jeff sees my worry about Syd as something exaggerated.  And honestly?  I really, really hope it is.  He'll find out tomorrow.  Either he'll sit in with me, or I'll tell him what happened.  And I'll let you know how it turns out...I decided that I'm going to document this process.  Because it's really painful, and when it comes to me being distant and anti-social, I hope you'll all give me time.  I felt this same way when Cole was a baby.  And he came out of it, he got help, and now he's my kid that never stops talking.  I came out of my funk when he came out of his.  
I want that for Syd, too.  I'm tired of explaining that "she doesn't talk to anyone" to people that tell me she's beautiful and say hi to her, and wait for her to say something back.  This happens really frequently.  Or they ask her a question, only to have her not make eye contact.  If I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt it's because she doesn't like people, not because she needs help, then I would gladly accept that she's just anti-social.  But I can't shake this feeling that she needs a little help.  And I can't feel good about myself if I don't at least try, you know?  
Anyway, I'll tell you what I find out.  Because I wish I could read someone else's experience in this...I feel really alone and scared, and I know I'm not the only person that's experienced this.  But I also know how much stress and worry this is causing me...and I'm sure that's why people keep quiet about it.  Anyway, I know tonight I won't be getting much sleep.  I have a lot to think about.  I'm concerned that I have so much to tweak and change that I'll just dread everything until I tell Jeff about the meeting and get it over with.  I know I won't sleep peacefully, but hopefully tomorrow will be a better day.

Awakenings

This year has started out well.  So well, in fact, that I've been hard-pressed to come up with something to post about.  I went through a couple of my old posts and there's a lot of:  "Life is great!", and "I'm sooo happy!".  And though I am in no way complaining about how I've felt about my world, I know from experience that sometimes reading about someone else's happiness isn't all that much fun.  Especially if the reader isn't on the same page as the writer.  It's more along the lines of "Well, yaaaaaay for you".  Anyway, that's my personal experience.  And yeah, I'm aware that's a pretty rotten way to be, but sometimes too much fabulousness in someone else's life is just...too much. Period.  And yeah, despite my happiness, this is my natural pessimism shining through.  
However, I guess when life is good, it's just really good.  I've been trying to come up with interesting stuff to post about, and...I got nothing.  I've always said that I'm happiest when nothing is going on...that means that life is good.  But it makes for some seriously boring reading.  

Syd has started to TRY to say things.  She usually doesn't get past one syllable, but she's trying.  This makes me happy and relieved.  She really enjoys making sounds.  I think she feels like they are just more interesting than actual words--her favorite thing right now is a play food set; with spoons, cups, plates, and fake foods.  She feeds all of us, and will make the appropriate drinking, eating, chewing, burping sounds.  I appreciate the words of encouragement from those of you that have heard me voice my fears about Syd.  I think the biggest fear of parents is for something to go south with their children.  I know that when it comes to mine, I try to be good about letting them do their own thing, and support their individuality.  However, I'm not above comparing others to my kids...and if they seem to be lagging, my kids, I mean, I worry.  This isn't fair to them.  I know this.  But I'm weak sometimes.  I love Riley, Cole, and Syd.  I want whatever is good for them.  And I need to relax and recognize when something is good for them, even if it's confusing or frustrating to me.  That's a lot of babble, I know.  Parenthood is just really hard, sometimes.  Even when it doesn't have to be.

Today Cole told  me he thinks he has the best family ever.  "The best mom, and the best dad, and the best sisters...Basically everything is just the best."  I just watched as he happily skipped off to do something that I'm sure he told me about, but I tuned him out as he was telling me.  I do that WAY too often.  But I really stopped to think about that.  He's happy.  And that makes me really happy. 

 Riley and her dad worked tonight on the last leg of her 5th grade science fair project.  Jeff had a bazillion projects that he needed to finish, but he took the time to help her print out pictures and write down results, and so on, and so forth.  And before she went to bed, I heard Riley tell Jeff that she appreciated his time that he spent helping her with her project.  (Notice that she's no where to be seen during the actual work).

And then she showed up to play with the box that Jeff was using to put behind her poster board.  But she actually stuck around to work on her conclusions to her hypothesis, so technically, she DID do quite a lot.  :)  The point?  You can see how much she loves her dad.  He makes my kids and me, happy.  And so I come full circle.  I'm happy.  My kids are happy.  Despite some stress, and being short on time, Jeff is happy, too.   And it makes for a boring story.  But a great life.  :)