Thankful

...for today. Though by 8am, you wouldn't have known that's how the day would end.

This is how our day started:
"Get your jacket please." -waaaaaaaaahhhhhh!
"Put your backpack on please."  -waaaaaahhhhh!
"It's Chickadee's turn to do that."  -waaaaaahhhhhhh!
"It's time to go." -waaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!

Sometimes I wonder if my current son has behaviors because of trauma or because he's a hmmm, how to put it nicely?...Crier?

Fast forward through the day and I am smacked in the face with reasons to be thankful:
A boy who pretends to be a Pout Pout Fish while eating.
A girl playing footsie with me under the kitchen table.
A baby who, after every single bite of food, holds her spoon out to me and wants me to pretend to take a bite.
A neighbor who brought over a few larger-than-should-be-consumed-by-toddlers cupcakes.
Three kids who insisted on putting candles in those cupcakes and singing happy birthday to us all.

Thankful for every single "extra" day I've had since August 23.

Story Of My Life

Chickadee's first two word utterance:

"Up Mommy!"

What Six Months Can Do

I was having a pity party for myself, well for us really, the other day. I was thinking that we all four work sooooo hard to heal and grow and sometimes it seems like we are getting nowhere fast.

The next day, I picked up a piece of mulch off of the carpet AND IT WAS REALLY MULCH! This is the first time in six months that that dark thing on the playroom floor or at the top of the steps has really been mulch and not some other shouldn't-be-touched-with-bare-hands type of thing. (I know...no need to discuss my six month and still failing learning curve on that one). So I thought: Maybe we HAVE all made progress. Maybe all this work is making a difference in the day to day and will translate to a difference in their future.

I needed proof though. I began to read the notes I took during May, the first month the kids were here. Our work has paid off and in black and white it was easy to see:

does not speak to others Does not shut up
several accidents a week Fully potty trained
has yet to interact with peers Yesterday, asked a friend "You sick yesterday?"
Can count to two ten
does not use words Uses three word sentences
does not engage in play Pretend plays babies and birthdays daily
Developmentally delayed on target
Failure toThrive Thriving

Hard Work + Resiliency = Progress 

Traditions

I love traditions surrounding holidays. Halloween has a zillion, from carving the pumpkin to decorating some cookies to getting out all the old costumes and trying every single one on whomever they will fit.

But holidays kill me a teeny bit on the inside. Because these traditions are mine, not ours. Because next year, I won't know which of these kids was brave enough to touch the pulp of the pumpkin. I won't know who is tall enough to ring doorbells to trick or treat. I won't know who decided they liked passing out candy but who was still too scared. Instead, I'll likely be sharing the traditions with a new set of kids who may or may not touch the pulp, ring the doorbell or pass out candy.

Holidays are a reminder of the fluidity of our house. The comings and goings and in betweens that these little feet may or may not remember when they celebrate the same day next year.

Happy Fourth Birthday, Speed!

We wanted Halloween and birthday to have their own day, so we moved Speed's birthday to last Sunday. Really, all that accomplished was giving him a birthWEEK rather than DAY, but that's ok.

On Sunday, we all worked together to make the absolute finest birthday cake in the construction world.

The kids (in case you couldn't tell) did all the decorating by themselves except for the initial layer of icing. This was a lesson in restraining the inner control freak in me, but they are still so excited to talk about the cake.

On Wednesday, Speed took cupcakes to daycare.
On Thursday, he took mini cupcakes and treat bags to his preschool.
On Thursday night he said: How old I now? I two?
"No, you are four."
"Oh. I like four. I so fun my birthday."

Love this boy.

Oldie but Goodie

Not sure how I neglected posting this conversation between my vocabulary challenged kiddo and me at the breakfast table one morning a while back:

"MommyTammy, you nipples is on the table."
"What?"
Points.
"Oh, you mean my ELBOWS!"

We've got body parts down now (well, I don't know that I have quizzed NIPPLES lately). We sing and scream our bathtime song every single night, labeling as much as we can and taking a bow at the end. If you catch us on a good night, there's quite the dance routine involved.

(to the tune of He's Got the Whole Word In His Hands):

Wash your whooooollllle body in the tub
Wash your whole body in the tub
Wash your whole body in the tub
Wash your whole body in the tub

(The refrain is a bit redundant.)

Verses:
Wash your fingers and your toes in the tub.
Wash your eyes and your nose in the tub.
Wash your elbows and your knees in the tub.

And so it goes. We're stuck on ankles and knuckles, but otherwise good.