Julia

And A Tub Of Hot Fudge

One week into the new school and - not to be jinxy - Patrick is like a different person. Not just a different person from the anxious/resentful kid of last week but a different person from the angry/bored/anxious/resentful mess of a child who had been developing over the past few months.

Let me back up.

I liked our old school quite a bit. We will most likely send Caroline and Edward there. I think lots of different kinds of kids with lots of different kinds of learning styles would thrive there. Unfortunately Patrick was not one of them; although it took me (and Steve, but the children and their day-to-day'ness fall under my purlieu) a while to recognize this.

I knew that Patrick was becoming more and more irritable. I knew that we were having a hard time with him. Even my mother (who adores him) noticed that he was remarkably crabby during her last visit. But I didn't know whether this was just the age or his personality or what. In retrospect I think that Patrick was having a miserable time in school (on all levels) and the worse it got the less he talked and the angrier he became. As the weeks went by I realized that something, whatever it was, was seriously wrong and I started considering that maybe his school was part of the problem. I had met with them in October when they reported that his eyes were glassing over and his tongue was hanging out during math. I suggested he needed harder work; they suggested he needed more self-discipline. I promised to talk to Patrick about being less of a marmot and they promised to look into the fact that... oh to pick just one... he had been attending the wrong spelling class for two weeks but no one had noticed. Or that he (this is true) left entire pages of math worksheets unfinished except for doodling the page numbers into various lengths of pi - they did four straight weeks on the value of currency and how much Miguel had left after he bought a peach; Patrick has been a coin collector since he was four, you decide how much he enjoyed this. Or that he had asked for a more difficult just-right reading book but been told no, so the following week he brought home not one but two Dr. Seuss books (when challenged by me over this choice he pointed out that it was The Cat and the Hat COMES BACK - so, really, much more scope than the original.) Where was I? Oh, right looking into alternative schools for him. You know, I have been asked by a lot of people over the years whether we found it worthwhile to have our kid tested (Patrick has done WISC WIAT and SB-V) and prior to this my response has been mixed. I, personally, found it soothing and it has been occasionally helpful with the school but I had not yet found testing to be particularly actionable, if you know what I mean. However, as Patrick's year rapidly deteriorated (remind me to never tell you about the worst parent-teacher conference in history - there was shouting [Patrick's] mortification [mine] and malevolence [no comment]) I was very grateful that we had actual data to discuss when I called people in various districts seeking counsel. It's one thing to talk about your snowflake's unique pattern; it's another to say these are his numbers what do you suggest? The overwhelming consensus was to see if what-is-now-his-new-school would be willing to make a space for him; otherwise our district (Patrick's old school is not in our district) was willing to bump him from second grade into a third grade cluster for the latter half of the year at our neighborhood school and then take him into their magnet next year (they start in fourth grade.) I can imagine many children do well with grade skipping (Steve did) but I doubt that Patrick would be one of them. He's young and he's young - late June birthday plus general late social blooming - and it is hard to imagine him with kids a year older. 

So that was the deal, mostly, and those were the options and so far the new school is working out better than I had even hoped. Patrick comes home in a genial mood and he is excited again. Actually he might be a little too excited. Over the weekend they had to come up with an experiment and share it with the class. Patrick wanted to make rock candy, so he did and it went over well. Giddy with success and fired with scientific curiosity Patrick paused in the middle of putting away his clothes last night and contemplated the electrical outlet in his room. What would happen - he wondered - if he placed a quarter on the prongs of the nightlight as it was pulled only partially from the socket... OH MY GOD! Patrick accidentally started an electrical fire in his room last night and scared us so badly we took turns yelling at him and himself enough that he continued to sob off and on for an hour. This morning I found him packing the blackened quarter and the half-melted nightlight into a sandwich bag in order to bring it into class to share the dire consequences of his latest experiment.

Speaking of cautionary tales, Peeks left this comment yesterday:

"It is rather a shame that our heroine was cooked and eaten following the soon-to-be infamous Julia / Twin City meetup.

But a Cautionary Tale for our times will be born."

I forwarded this to Steve who replied that reports of my death have probably been greatly exaggerated. When I initially told him I was going to meet the internet and asked him to meet me there afterward just in case anyone wanted to murder me he was scornful. "Why," he asked, "would anyone want to kill you; they don't even know you." I thought this was rude because it implied that the scenario might be different if they actually did know me.    

He was right though. I went out and met chunks of the local internet and not one person tried to kill me. Not even a little bit. It was fun although it reminded me slightly of my wedding. We invited about sixty people when we got married and before the event I looked forward to catching up with all kinds of old friends. When I did the math, however, I realized that speaking to each person for three minutes would take up three solid hours. Five minutes and the party is over and I haven't even had cake. The internet gathering felt like that. I wanted to talk to everyone but I failed. It was fun, though. It was great to get out and fascinating to meet completely new people and then Steve picked me up and the two of us went for an early birthday (his birthday is today - Happy Birthday Steve) sushi. I think I will do it again and I think next time we'll go bowling. I like bowling as I like most of the beer sports.

Moving on, I want to talk about presents because I am dying over here. I have gotten one (1) present for one (1) person (Edward) and then I have a stack of scribbled notes with question marks to denote that I have a gift idea but I am either not sure if it is a good idea or I am sure it is a good idea but I don't know where to get it or not sure it is a good idea and also not sure where to get it.

So as always around this time of year I am soliciting suggestions and offering my own:

Caroline - Caroline likes Patrick, dancing, pulling bread knives from countertops, and answering my rhetorical questions ("Where did I put the phone?" I mutter. "I don't know!" squeaks a voice from the region of my kneecaps.) She also keeps draping things around herself, like hand towels and bibs and anything she can rummage from the laundry basket. I am thinking about getting her a set of dress-up clothes, preferably something with a few different pieces. Any thoughts on where to get something toddler friendly (internet preferred)? Also I think she would like one of those dolls that you get to snap and button and lace and zip - you know what I mean? And maybe something in a play clock? Finally, I thought she and Edward could get a toy kitchen for their big present. I have looked online but the sheer volume of choice has staggered me. I want it to be, you know, fun and big enough for two kids to play with simultaneously. Any suggestions?

Edward - Edward likes Matchbox cars and Thomas the Train cars and school buses and airplanes and dump trucks and giant excavators and helicopters... and music. He likes pretending to feed people and things. He likes to count when we go up the stairs and he likes to identify letters when we read books. As an aside I have been trying to work with him from the sheets his speech therapist gave me and he finds this HILARIOUS. He says "Uh" and I say "Uh-PUH, Uh-PUH" as I pull my hand away from my mouth with the p sound just like she taught me and Edward literally falls over with mirth. I think I am doing it wrong.

The only present I have gotten so far is for Edward and it is this remote controlled car (well similar - I got the police car) because Patrick has one he built out of Legos (oh! that was a good present for a seven year old. I'll link it although I think you can do better on the price than Amazon) and Edward will lie on his stomach and watch Patrick drive that car around for hours.

Any other thoughts for two year olds? How about seven? I think Patrick will get a portable chess set (any chess people out there? any nice sets to recommend that aren't too nice?) and some Legos. Board games? I find that I am stuck in 1976 when it comes to games for children: Sorry, Life (which is a terrible game; remember how you would get mad if you wound up being a teacher and you only won if you got to be a doctor or lawyer? what the hell was that about?) Clue and Monopoly... any newer family games to consider?

For nephews three through seven I am thinking about one of the wonderful capes from BeeBee Bug and/or subscriptions to Lego Club (you get a "magazine" - I think it is a big ad but whatever - and a new small Lego set delivered every two months for a year; that's cool) and/or subscriptions to one of the Cobblestone magazine (they have lots of different ones that are great and kids of a certain age always love their own mail.)      

Oh! I almost forgot. I have three featured readers over the next week or two whose ads I will be rotating on the sidebar and I would love it if you check out their stuff. Shawna is a photographer with exceptionally lovely things for sale here. Grandpa Ernie (his daughter is a reader and helps run his etsy shop) makes THE MOST BEAUTIFUL wooden toys for sale here. And Scrollwork Designs has jewelry for sale here that makes me chew my thumb in greed.

So, how goes your holiday shopping and what has you excited this year?

PS What can I say? I LIKE buying presents.

In One/Out Other

Edward has an ear infection. As I recall he was just treated for an ear infection and I worried that: a) we might need to go see the ENT if he is trending toward gloppy ear; and b) as much as I like antibiotics I felt like he has received several rounds in the past couple of months and that is Not Good in the general scheme of things. Fortunately my pediatrician keeps better records than I do and was able to invalidate my conviction that Edward is swimmin' in 'illin (he's been treated three times in two years.) They also told me that his last ear infection was in July - hardly cause for alarm. The pediatrician went on to say that the need for tubes (or 'ear grommets' as Patrick likes to say after reading a most disgusting but informative booklet at the ENT) is significantly reduced after the age of two so... chill. I chilled.

It does seem like we have been sick both repeatedly and forever, though, doesn't it?

I had made an appointment for Caroline as well since she has the same cold that Edward does and I worried that maybe I am just not as adept at determining when she needs to be seen. The last time she was at the doctor was in July and the only reason I brought her was because I wanted to take her to that shoe size carpet thing at Target to see how big her feet were before I ordered sandals for her online and I figured I could get Edward checked for an ear infection and then swing by Target with both of them afterward. The doctor checked Caroline since she was there and it turned out she had an infected ear as well. Who knew? So although she seemed fine except for a runny nose I brought her in today as well.

The pediatrician finished with Edward who was huddled against Steve's chest - tears streaming down his hot red cheeks - and looked at Caroline who was standing on a chair in her diaper doing something that looked very much like the mashed potato. She was bellowing "Seet Cah-uh-YINE! OH OH OH!" and then applauding herself, loudly, followed by jazz hands.

"Aaaaaand... what brings her in today?"   

I felt like a fool when I suggested she might need to have her ears and lungs checked for lurking Disease when she was so clearly a poster child for health (and musical theater.) 

She's fine and she has gained three pounds since last summer, pushing her almost into the twentieth percentile. I am embarrassed to admit that I still chart her growth because that seems like the sort of thing of thing a parent stops worrying about after babyhood in the absence of health issues but... there it is. I have an online med calculator saved in my browser and I have been surreptitiously plotting Caroline as if I will one day discover that she is actually not a pixie.

I think I feel guilty that she was born little, like I should have somehow managed to stop throwing up and guzzle a protein shake back when it would have done her the most good.   

Here. A never before seen photo of the back of Caroline's head as compared to Steve's hands at age two days when she was released from special care nursery for a few hours before they snatched her back again because we failed to keep her warm enough. Talk about a kid who needed a milk shake - she was 92% blanket and 7% hair.

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Patrick started his new school today. It felt horribly rushed to me but his new teacher was anxious to get him started and felt that this would be a great week to begin since he would have extra time to work one-on-one with Patrick while the other kids finished their end of trimester projects. Patrick was APPALLED by our decision to move him but after a few tears and some well-argued but useless protests he managed to be mostly resigned by this morning. In the car he wondered pointedly what his real school would be doing this week (no comment) observed that it was so early the stars were still visible (not true) said he was very nervous (fair enough) and then settled down to discuss what book on tape we should get for the commute (excellent suggestion whoever you were - thank you.) When I got him this afternoon he was wearing his winter coat zipped all the way past his mouth with the hood up - he looked like Kenny. I suspected he was not going to fling himself at me and thank me for the best damned school day of his life and I was right. First he harangued me about the fact that he had gotten lost and was then late for recess and had not had anybody to play with once he got there and he didn't know where to go afterward and he lost his coat which he found again but he still hated it. He said he was much happier at his old school and that his deadline to decide between them was going to be Christmas break. I said oh dear, oh well, give it time, don't be afraid to ask for help, nothing, I expect you were and no we are going to give the new school more time than that and ultimately Daddy and I will decide what is best for you. After simmering for a while over his grievances he noted that the playground seemed fun. An hour later he said that one kid had just come back from Hawaii and had brought postcards for the whole class and he had given one to Patrick too. His name is Eric. Eric, I heard still later, is nice. In fact, everyone in the class seemed nice and they did math that was easy at first but it actually got kinda hard after a few pages. Patrick informed me of this last part with grudging admiration in much the same way a knight would speak of a vanquished yet worthy foe. They did grammar and although Patrick says he still does not know what grammar is he discovered he is good at correcting sentences, so that was ok. And they had double library and got to pick an animal to research and draw and he chose penguins and drew two of them on the side of a mountain chasing after eggs that were rolling down the side. One penguin is saying "Oh no! The eggs!" and the other penguin is saying, "The mountain was your idea." I told him I look forward to seeing it and he told me that he had a lot more work to do on penguins before he would share his work. Penguins, apparently, are not all comic drawings.

In short: I (and now you) know more about what Patrick did today than I have heard about his entire first three months at the old school. I consider this very encouraging even if I have ruined his life.       

Self Timed Portrait - Boy with Friend

 

(not pictured, mother wondering where the fuck her camera had gone and fearing that Caroline had finally succeeded in grabbing it)

PS Twin Cities gathering this Saturday - if you are interested in joining us and do not receive another email from me tonight let me know

PPS I am tied for the lead in the football pool this week - thank you Tennessee. I don't care who wins tonight as long as their combined points total more than 57. Then I clean up. I made the mistake of telling Patrick what the pool pays (er, would pay if this was not merely for entertainment purposes, I mean) and he just about fell over. What sort of parent lets her mercenary seven year old know that there is more to be made in three minutes of gambling than in two years of honest Lego picking up? For shame.

PPPS Patrick is on book three of Harry Potter and loving it. We started reading the series together and then he realized he could get through it faster on his own. I am so happy that he has finally gotten into fiction I can barely contain myself. I tend to be one of those people who presses books on you when you leave my house and now I have a captive to inflict my tastes upon year-round. I keep waking up in the night shouting, "Oh! And The Westing Game!"

Any suggestions for books on tape for us? 

Trio

Caroline has been coveting Patrick's cape. Yesterday I turned to Steve and said, "She looks like someone..." and Steve promptly replied, "ET."

And when I said, "Really?"

He said, "In a wig. With the blanket. Trust me."

Fair enough.

Caroline finds many things inconvenient (her lack of a cape, for starters) but nothing irks her so much as the fact that she is not nearly as tall as she thinks she is. To compensate she has started carrying things around with her that she then climbs upon. She started with board books and we said, "Oh how cute." She moved onto blocks and we said, "Isn't it adorable." Then she began dragging laundry baskets out of the closet to flip upside-down and we said, "WHO GOT MY CHECKBOOK OFF THE DESK AND THREW IT IN THE TRASH? HOW DID CAROLINE GET THE CRAYONS OUT OF THE DRAWER? WHO THOUGHT IT WAS A GOOD IDEA TO LEAVE THE CEREAL ON THE COUNTER?"

If I could attach an audio file you would hear Caroline saying, "Oh CRICKET!" as if she is just as surprised and exasperated as the rest of us to discover that she had climbed up to the breakfast bar and was merrily setting off the timer with a pencil

after decorating Patrick's math homework with that blue marker. 

She's sort of a Handful. A few (many) posts ago I wrote about putting all of our dining room chairs on the porch in an effort to keep her off the table and someone bracingly told me to get a grip. Although I like comments in which you tell me how great I am; I also like comments that readjust my sense of what might be construed as normal. It seemed obvious to me that the best way to keep Caroline off the table was by removing the chairs and I was interested to see that some of you thought we could, you know, just tell her not to do it. I admit that I was hesitant to try it your way in the beginning but lately I have concluded that if Caroline can understand how the DVD remote works she can understand that she is not allowed to climb on the damned table. So I have returned the chairs to the dining room and I spend a lot (all) of my time tucking a boneless and angry child under my arm as I cheerfully trill "We do not climb on the table!" like Mary Poppins trying to train a lemur.

Apparently understanding that something is forbidden and caring are two different things - but I think we are making progress. Slowly.  

Caroline likes clocks. She likes to point to clocks and she likes to touch clocks and whenever Steve leaves his laptop open and unattended for more than five seconds she likes to hit the function key that brings the computer clock onto the screen. During one of her forbidden forays into my desk drawer she found an old watch of Patrick's with a dead battery.

[This watch exemplifies one of my personality defects, namely: the battery is dead so the watch will not work; but a new battery costs more than a new watch; but I cannot bring myself to buy a new watch because we have a perfectly good one in the drawer at home; only the battery is dead - I need an intervention. Or rather I would except that I get these rare moments in which the useless clutter I keep gets magnificently re-purposed; in this case by Caroline.]

Caroline does not care that the watch is broken. She just knows that she loves it more than anything. She magically intuited that watches are worn on the wrist (or upper arm in her case) and she parades around like Cleopatra wrapped in a snake. "Watch," she says. "Tie-um. No tie-um! Tie-um to go!" 

Patrick saw her with the watch and said, "Hey that's mine!"

And I said, "But it's broken."

And he said, "But it's mine."

"But it's broken."

"Mine."

We sort of hit an impasse and I told him he had to be nice to his baby sister. He said, fine, but if that watch starts working again he wants it back. I agreed.

Note the joy of obsessive ownership (Edward has a Matchbox car in each hand; Caroline is clutching her/Patrick's/the watch):

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A few readers set me straight on the difference between expressive language and articulation. A child (like Edward, say) can be in the normal range for his expressive language but not be widely (or wildly) intelligible. He has a word for "book" and "boat" and "bath" (that's language) but he pronounces them all as "buh" (that's intelligibility.) So the fact that Edward is in the normal range for language did not automatically disqualify him for speech therapy through our health insurance. In fact, they shocked my lights out by immediately approving him for a year's worth of twice weekly therapy and he started today.

I am still startled by how quickly it all happened. I doubted they were going to agree to coverage at all especially after my conversation with the county, which was friendly but dismissive. Apparently you have to be in the bottom two percent to qualify for county services and they only look at total language scores under the age of two. She offered to send someone out to test his articulation after his birthday but she doubted he would qualify even then based on my description of his crummy but not-quite-crummy-enough words. I guess the insurance company uses a much lower standard and I am grateful to them.

Edward's first session this morning was pleasant and he enjoyed the toys once he unwrapped himself from my neck but he refused to talk. At all. Soooo... this might take a while. Fortunately Steve works from home so he can keep Caroline most of the time and I am looking forward to the time when I can leave him with his therapist and go read Highlights in the lobby.

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Oh that reminds me - thank you very much for all of your thoughts on Patrick's school situation. I really appreciated it. As always you guys had differing opinions but you were all helpful in your own way and I value your comments. For what it is worth Caroline and Edward do not have to drive to school with us, which is very nice. If we did move Patrick and were unable to find someone to carpool with us Steve and I would take turns driving while the other one stays with the twinkles. It's what we do now and it seems to work ok although I admit that I am much more sanguine about this than Steve.

I liked the school very much. Patrick was excited about the work they are doing but has expressed concern about making friends and learning a new routine. Steve didn't come with us last week so the second grade teacher agreed to let him come by tomorrow to see what he thinks of the class. In the meantime the director received Patrick's testing and school reports and has informally offered him a space pending committee approval. Provided Steve is as enthusiastic as I am, we are inclined to switch him with the start of their next trimester. Last week Patrick and I had one of those confessional bedtime conversations and he said that he felt like he was fading away in school - I'm not sure what the solution is but we have to do something with him. He's just not himself lately.   

Fleming Florey Moyer and Me

In 1943 my grandmother was living in Alabama with her parents while my grandfather was engaged in Top Secret War Work (in Michigan of all places; the following year they moved to Los Alamos - ahem.) That winter my father - who was two at the time - developed pneumonia and became sicker and sicker over the course of a week. Eventually the doctor told my grandmother that he feared the child was dying and that she needed to call his daddy if he was going to make it back before the end. It was thirty-five years later as she told me this story and obviously there was a happy ending but my grandmother would still lower her voice to a whisper when she got to that part.  

"However," the doctor added, "there's a new drug available. I've never tried it and I don't hold with these things in the general run but... well... at this point it certainly can't hurt."

"So I agreed to try the new drug," my grandmother would finish the story, "and do you know what that new drug was? It was..." (dramatic pause - she was a great one for the dramatic pauses) " PENICILLIN!"

And that was my cue to cheer, which I always did.

"YAY! PENICILLIN! YAY!!!"

That was my earliest salute to antibiotics but this week was marked by a couple more:

1. Three days of azithromycin (yay! azithromycin! yay!) and a repeat check with the pediatrician and Edward's lung are now crackle-free. I think we caught his pneumonia early and I am very glad that we did. So heads up, my fellow sufferers, if you get the flu, get better and then get a cough and a fever several days after recovering get thee to a physician.

2. By Thursday night I was so desperate to clear my sinuses I actually resorted to the irrigation technique that so many of you were urging. I admit that I have a dread of snorting water up my nose that dates back to unfortunate childhood swimming pool incidents and I have steadfastly refused the whole idea of a saline nose flush on principle alone. However, needs must and after two weeks of not being able to taste or smell anything I was getting really depressed. Thus, I mixed salt and warm water and found a suitable squeeze bottle and commended my soul to the nose gods and... nothing happened. I was so congested that - apart from a very wet and salty shirt - I couldn't even tell that I had just snuffed 5 fluid ounces of saline into my head.

So I gave up on the garlic and the mentholatum and the hot compresses and the elevated pillows and the salt watery deluge and I went to the urgent care on Friday. The guy said, wow, do you have infected sinuses or what, and I said snuh, and he gave me a prescription for amoxicillin (yay! amoxicillin! yay!) and it took several days but I no longer feel like my head is muffled in a burlap sack and I am pretty sure that I was able to taste a little bit of tea essence this morning.    

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The pediatrician's office called on day two of Edward's pneumonia to say that they had reached his name on their seasonal flu vaccine list; did we still want it? I said yes I suppose we do; so we waited until after he was done with antibiotics and then got Edward's lungs checked before both he and Caroline got vaccinated and as an extra-special bonus Edward's pneumonia and Caroline's previous RSV issues bought them an H1N1 vaccination as well. I worried that the double vaccine whammy would fell them but they were fine. The nurse said that they will need an H1N1 booster in a month so I should call for that appointment soon. Today I did but was told that they are unable to schedule it after all since they do not know if they will have any booster shots in December.

Ai yi yi.

I am not so worried about the lack of boosters for Caroline and Edward or any vaccine at all for Patrick (whose advanced age of seven did not qualify him for any flu vaccines yet) since I am 1000% positive we have already had a visit from the H1N1 fairy but now I feel guilty for bogarting the vaccines we just got. If I had realized they were running out again I might have said no. It's a tough year for parental decision making.

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I didn't get a chance to mention this, what with the pneumonia and my mother coming to visit this weekend, but I took Edward for a speech evaluation last Monday. It was low-key and fun for him, especially since she started the evaluation by handing Edward two toy cars. Edward will pretty much tolerate anything provided he has a car in each hand. She sat there and asked him to identify different pictures and then they did a little role-playing and then she said that they like to be able to understand about 80% of what a child says by this age and when Edward spoke she was able to understand... nothing. Zippo. Na Da, as Patrick used to say before speech therapy when he wanted a strawberry.

And I said, "Yeah, well, there's that" because, really, in a clinical setting it was hard to ignore that Edward gabbles.

So the pathologist is putting her report together and will request services through our insurance company who theoretically covers these things but who might balk at the fact that he is less than two and ask that we repeat the evaluation in six months. Personally I would find that sort of.. well, silly... since I called them before the evaluation was done to ask if we are covered and to talk about this very issue (his age) and they told me to go ahead and have him checked so... we'll see. I cannot say I am looking forward to the logistics of getting Edward to twice weekly speech therapy but I *am* looking forward to his not running over to slap my face when he feels like he is not being understood by someone. Also, it might be nice to know what he is talking about without Caroline's somewhat dubious translations:

Edward, tears streaking down his face, runs toward me, jabbering incomprehensibly. Caroline - in the other room looking nonchalant and grasping one of Edward's cars - observes, "Eddybear's SO SLEEPY."

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Without getting into it too much, Patrick is not having a great year at school. I had a meeting with the teachers a couple of weeks ago and failed to get much accomplished and - although I think it is a good school - we (meaning Steve and I; Patrick LOATHES change) are wondering if he, personally, would be more productive elsewhere. Last week I talked to the woman who runs the magnet school for kids who test as X and she is willing to make a space for him in their second grade classroom as soon as we would like it. If we would like it.

Pros: challenging work that Patrick would probably wallow in like a happy swine; small class packed with kids who probably share many of Patrick's interests; funded out the gazinga due to a grant they just received     

Cons: 30 minute drive (each. way) carpool possibilities questionable; does one just pull a kid out of his setting in the middle of the year; did I mention that Patrick is happy at his current school in a lazy kinda way and he LOATHES change?

I know I haven't given a lot of details but I would love your thoughts in general. What do you do when your child is having a not-so-good year at school and a better but less convenient option exists? Do I go back to our school and try to be more aggressive in getting his needs met? Do we go with the school that sounds - on paper at least; Patrick and I are going to visit on Wednesday - as if Faberge might have designed it just for him? If it were about my needs I would leave him where he is. I like it and I love our carpool. Of course if everything were about my needs I would be sitting in my bathtub right now eating fudge instead of sneaking in a blog post while I use the high speed internet offered by the library to try to upload files for Steve's work.  

PS I taught Patrick chess on Saturday and we have played a dozen games since then. In, like, five minutes he became one of those crazy chess obsessed people in the Park. Every time I turned around this weekend he had set up the board again and was waggling a white pawn at me. Do you recommend any computer chess games? I, uh, hate chess and I am terrible at it and... let's just say that Patrick needs a robot chess buddy before I start disappearing the pieces, you know?

PPS Edward's speech report just came in the mail and somehow he's in the 47th percentile for expressive communication. What the..? Damn it, there's no way my insurance company is going to pay for speech therapy for a kid who is deemed average. How can he be average? She says in the written section that he tends to use only vowels when communicating. Vowels! How is that average? 

PPPS Patrick hates to spend money and has thus amassed the small fortune of $211 in his piggy bank. Last weekend he decided that the $11 was untidy enough to bother him so when I took the kids on a run to Target he brought it with him. Possibly to spend. Maybe. He saw this inflatable bouncy thing marked down to $22 and pleaded with me to go halves with him, noting that he could use it to practice his trampoline and tumbling. Since we had to leave his last T&T class early due to extreme lip-splittage following an ungainly connection of knee (his) and face (also his) I was not unmoved by these entreaties. Frankly, any practice he can get would be a good thing. So we bought it and lugged it home and unpacked it and... I don't know what Patrick and I were envisioning but the box seriously mislead us as to the dimensions. We were picturing something that could hold an average sized boy and instead

Edward has a new favorite place to read.

I gave Patrick back his $11 since it didn't seem fair that he had unintentionally used his money to buy Edward a bouncy slice of paradise. 

PPPPS

Local Boy Chases Hooligans After Cycle Theft