Super Produce! to the Rescue!

It's hard to swear off store-bought costumes. I certainly don't feel like I can commit to making Halloween and Mardi Gras duds for the duration of parenthood. But the pearls that have come from "making" Ana's costume are a true joy.

She will be a superhero (in the morning, Cleopatra by night). We were all supposed to be superheroes, ala Incredibles style. I don't know if I can pull it off. But Elliot has a pre-made superman costume, complete with cape. That's as good as we could do.

We asked Ana's talented teacher Merry to convert an old princess gown into a superhero top (OK, so I didn't make it. Asking counts for something, right?). She met with Ana to talk about her ideas, and created a top with a butterfly logo, and a head wrap with the matching butterfly on it.

So tonight we searched for accoutremont to make it all work. Party City was brimming with families, and gaggles of teen-aged girls looking for some inspiration. I didn't think I'd have Ana's interest when I pointed out some plastic silver cups.

M: These would be great for your arm bands.
A: Yes! I can show you just how these would work, mama.

Then we cruised the stickers for some extra pizzazz. I was thinking STARS. Then saw UNICORNS (the irridescent kind. Didn't you have those in your sticker collection?). When Ana looked at the wall o' adhesion, she only saw ONE THING. FRUIT.

A: Mama, I want the fruit.
M: (disuasively) Ana, are you sure? What about these stars here? (Why do we do this?)
A: No mama. The fruit. (eagerly) Yeah. Yeah.
M: OKAY, Ana. Here you go.

And so, at home, at 10 pm, we're cutting plastic cups and tucking back the sharp bits for arm and ankle cuffs. She's bedazzling them with shimmery grapes and oranges and lemons. I can't resist the urge to have her put on the whole get up...this after melting from the Cleopatra cuteness.

Once the cuffs come on, she is transformed.

A: (pointing in my face, with a scowl) Are you a bad guy?
M: No way. I'm straightening up my act right now.
A: (to Dad) And you?
D: Yeah.
A: (shooting sound effects) I'll get you with my oranges. BOOM BOOM. And bananas. pshew. Pshew. Gotcha! Take that.

My little hero. Changing the world. One fruit at a time.

Elliot's hearing

3 month follow up!

Elliot's left ear is holding his hearing.

Ya heard?

Thirty-three

Yup, it's my birthday. And it's been pretty nice.

I took the day off Friday. Did the eyebrows and toes. Was a secret shopper at Shoe Nami for my friend Dora. Had lunch at La Divina. Found hidden birthday jewelry in my garden. Shopped with my best friend.

And bought some kick-ass cowgirl boots at Sputnik...something I've just recently been craving. I've been wearing them ever since, but have the urge to change my whole wardrobe to fit them. Is this the sign of some sort of crisis with my next stage of development?

Our Friday night movie was Into the Wild, a John Krakauer adaptation of a true story, of a 23 year old who lives with the belief that his life's meaning will be revealed through his journey of self, almost to exclusion. At one point he asserts with the great omniscient confidence of a recent college graduate that it is not in human relationships where we find truth. This line really burned.

During the course of his journey cross-country, mapless, he rides the rapids, hitches rides on trains, burns his money, eats squirrel on a stick...none of this seemed noteworthy to me. It was how much time he spent alone that I found uncomfortable. That, to me, was the most courageous of things. I was forced to consider my own truths, and how much I use the human relationship to explore them and debunk or confirm them. I felt like he was so very wrong for not believing in the beauty of finding a shared truth, for belonging to a pair, or a family, or a community. And I felt afraid. Afraid of what might be inside of me. If there was less noise. Or say an abandoned bus in the tundra to be stuck in for a couple of years.

I was greatly validated by how his journey came full circle. How he discovered that "Happiness is only real when shared." A quote that closely mirrors a favorite African saying of mine: Shared pain is half-pain, Shared joy is doubled. But I am still left with that aching from the film. The challenge of self-study. Of knowing yourself. Of trusting who you find. And loving her regardless.

And that is where I am on this birthday. With a helluva pair of shoes to start my journey.

Happy Birthday to me...and thanks, Mom. For this beautiful life.

Glasses or Surgery

Elliot's eye doctor told us today that he will either require glasses or surgery for his wandering eye.

Not terrible news...we knew that he'd need something. But after walking 2 blocks in the torrential rain with Elliot in arms, arriving dripping wet in an empty waiting room for 30 minutes, then hearing the doctor describe Elliot's situation as "Bad" twice, I'm in a damn pissy mood.

Needless to say that we'll be getting a second opinion...less for the advice than for a little bedside manner. That goes a long way with me.

Another revelation: I need to invest in a rain coat and umbrella.

Elections

As they drew the curtain around me, I whispered a silent prayer:
Please, just don't embarass us. Please, just don't embarass us.



Yes, I'm to the point where I no longer care if these people do their jobs. I just need them not to bring further shame and ridicule to my homestate and town by accepting and making bribes, sleeping with hookers, extorting money, making contracts for personal gain, sobbing on national tv during an emergency, and putting their foot in their mouths.


That's all I ask at this point.


And might I just add, what sad, slim pickin' for the Dems in this gubernatorial race (I'm hoping that's the opposite for the pres. election!). I ended up voting for Foster Campbell ...a quick game of eenie-meanie-miny-mo after aforementioned prayer. I'm grateful not to live in Orleans parish, and be forced with so many non-choices for the City Council seat.


Is it just that the folks who really want to make change do so at the local level? They promote their silent agendas of social justice, building the local economy, fighting crime, and supporting families through other efforts. Why is it that so few candidates inspire? Let alone make marked changes that they can point to, that reaffirm our democratic process? I'd like to think that the whole system is broken, esp. when I think that it's exactly what got our fascist Batman and Robin Duo in office (no doubt who Batman is here), and has kept them unchecked.


I won't be watching the returns tonight. It really doesn't matter. At this point, I'll be happy not to hear their names in the news again for the length of their terms.

Movie Night

Well, nowadays (at least for a little while), my man Kevin is home on Friday nights, and with Tita's standing babysitting, we've started what I hope becomes a tradition. Movie night. At the Theater. Just us.

This week, we watched Gone Baby Gone. A painful study of self-justification when playing God, of missing children and lost parents, of choices with no good decisions. I knew this wasn't going to be a mood elevator when I read the review this afternoon. I think I'm beginning to wallow in my funk, guys, and it ain't pretty. In any case, this movie, a surprisingly well-crafted effort by Ben Affleck was true to it's promise to stir discussion about what is right and what is easy. I've enjoyed mine and Kevin's subsequent conversations as much as I liked sitting next to him in the dark, and communicating our fear, anger and sadness through our connected fingers. Here's to more time at home (and on dates) with my wonderful husband.

The rest of the weekend: home. With no plans. Hoping to shed some of my sadness and frustration.

Metairie Acad3my

Well. It was fine. That's all I can say.

Ana would be fine, and would do fine, and we'd all be fine with them being educated there.

Diverse. Happy teachers, and kids. Not particularly notable work, or philosophy or approach or appearance. Friendly principal who I liked quite a bit. Smart kids, reciting smart-kid things, even in preschool. Which made me wonder where the play was? It felt more like "watered-down kindergarten" than a program with a developmentally appropriate vision. The teacher in there, though, had a smile that could move mountains. And the kids were so proud to read their sight words, and spell their colors for me. It was fine.

But certainly not the quick-free-fix to my education woes. I was waiting for some magic, but wonder if you have to pay for that in this town.

And so unless ISL is the magic bullet, we're left with the paid-for possibilities...parochial schools, ISAS schools...

I'm kind of disappointed that my worries didn't disappear with the tour. But that probably wasn't a fair assumption.

Movie Night

On the marquis: family footage from our train trip to Memphis and Chicago.

Kevin's in a particularly sweet phase of pulling up old movies, and having them ready for us to enjoy. It's so nice having him home.

It was remarkable to see how much Ana's face has changed since our trip. She is growing so quickly.

Open Houses

Tomorrow, I'm off to an open house for Metairie Academy as a potential school for Ana next year. I've heard good things about this place--that their focus is long-term project work (which is my newfound passion) and kids are really happy. As an entering preschooler, Ana would have to be screened. I'm curious to imagine how she would respond to that: either with flying colors, or complete refusal, you never can tell.

What I'm looking for tomorrow:

• diversity
• teacher-child interactions
• examples of quality student work
• student-teacher ratio
• parent involvement
• exposure to varied media, experiences, people, cultures
• happy children

What Ana told me to look for: Everything like Abeona House. I'm going to miss my friends.

We have a lead on a potential school for Elliot: Madas in Jefferson Parish. Highly integrated community, happy and effective teachers that they retain quite well, etc. When trying to schedule a tour, I ran into the bouncer (read: secretary) who redirected my inquiry to the Special Education Office for Jeff Parish. That person redirected my inquiry to someone else. I left a message. Let's see what this whole process is like.

Still on the itenarary:

• Open House at St. Andrews
• Tour of ISL
• Purchase of small property in Lusher School district (just joking)
• Move to Minnesota (still joking)

Interestingly enough, all this school talk has me looking into the EMBA program at Tulane. It seems wonderful, with the exception of the $80K price tag! Yeah, right.

Random notes to my blog readers (remember, I can't comment on your blogs with my *(&#$computer):

• Erin, Try the Patak brand "Korma" available at Sav-A-Center/Rouses with your next meal...a canned curry that is out of this world with some potatoes, pecans and raisins. YUM.
• Shokufeh, I hope you're healing nicely, and want to plan a "pray date." Ana's been fighting with me about God's love. Where does she get this from(-;
• Holly's blog has pictures of our fun time with Will at the Ochsner event...I won the Tree Trimming service at the silent auction, btw. $50 for $300 in work.
• I'm trying to schedule in my Heifer International helpers. If you're still eager to help, we need to get moving. There's a press release all of a sudden.

Random Notes

I'm assuming that the Saints are going to win this game against the Seahawks, and that I can take a minute to post this. In any case, if they are going to lose the 17 point lead, maybe it's better if I don't watch.

Blogging seems harder and harder to get to. Playing catch up...

• Elliot is now in the twos room at school; we've bought him a toddler bed (that he has yet to sleep in) which raises the issue of what do I do with the crib that both my babies slept in? Am I closing up shoppe, so to speak? Lots of thinking that goes with this new furniture purchase. I'm panicking about the change in his status with the state re: therapy. Where might he go to school,etc. I've heard good things about Maddas...highly integrative environment. About him: over his ear infection from hell, drooling a lot less!, his powers of observation are incredibly sharp, he's talking up a storm, and he's having tantrums and getting in trouble. We're tickled pink. His favorite words of the season are pumpkin and Ooooh (ala ghost noise).
• Ana is in a happy place, which feels so good. Favorite pasttime: going into great detail about how much she loves us (to the edge of the universe, where there is nothing. Just concrete). She's very compassionate and kind these days using her words and not hurting others, loves the Incredibles (she takes turns being Violet and Elasti-girl), climbed about 10 feet on a rock wall at the Kids Fest today where the attendant asked me if she'd done that before. If she's picking superheroes, she really should be Spiderman. S he's a total monkey. Ana's night-time fright is still around, and I think she's still biting her nails. She misses her best friend Gabby, who's gone on to a pre-K program. There aren't enough girls for her at school, and the boys are pretty rough. She can hang, don't get me wrong. But when there are other choices, she's the mama making the soup with mulch and leaves, not the bad guy in some hostile takeover scenario with killing and guns and lots of stuff that I still don't know how to respond to. Her Golden Birthday is coming (4 on the 4th of December). This is so hard to believe. My baby.
• Kevin is now working at Bacco. He's starting with a new schedule this coming week, and will be home for dinner 4 nights a week! YAY. This is big news in our family. Usually he's home just 2 nights a week. I'm really looking forward to some normalcy, and establishing some family traditions that are important to us all. Kevin is working hard to finish renovating our bathroom. It's been quite an undertaking. A mystery leak proved too much for the man (too much for the man. He couldn't take it). I think we're on track to have it finished some time in the near future. He's battling some kind of cold, and still working his way back from the kids' one-two sickness punch.
• Me. I'm OK. The kids' illnesses have been rough on me, and work has been hard. It seems that a real opportunity we had as an org has slipped through our fingers. Tough news for us, and for me personally, as it meant some positive changes for our family, income, security, etc. I really need to carve out some time to exercise. That should help me get my positivity and motivation back. The weather is beautiful. I need to get in it.
• Los Pininos. The season of celebration is upon us. My birthday, Halloween, My mom's 65th!, Kevin and my 5th wedding anniversary, Thanksgiving, and Ana's Birthday...all between now and Christmas. Busy fun times ahead.

Off to celebrate the Saints win! with my hubby. He's home now.

In the doldrums

Tonight is the first night in 5 that anyone in my house has gotten a full night's sleep. If I ever needed reassurance that we do not want another child, it came this week.

Elliot has a raging ear infection. His right ear is oozing puss, and hurts so badly that touching his outer ear to wipe it, or even brushing against it when changing his clothes will yield the most painful cry he can muster. The good news is that it's in the ear he can't hear with (the right one) so at least he can hear. We have to be extra with-it around these ears.

For the last four nights, he has not slept. At all. We were poised for the emergency room yesterday...shouldn't the antibiotics be helping by now? There's nothing more we can do for pain than tylenol/motrin? But his on-call pediatrician and ENT both urged us not, recommending instead simultaneous doses of acetominophen and ibuprofen, and a super-dose of his ear drops, that also help manage the pain. And yes, he's slept soundly, but in a moment of panic I did wake up and make sure he wasn't in a coma. Poor guy. I hope he sleeps for a day. He certainly needs the recoup.

Of course during this sleep free marathon, he was the bright spark...happy all day. I was the over-tired, touchy grump. His ear infection comes during my own cold, and on the heels of Ana's week-long battle with strep throat. She now has something else (a cold?) even though she's just finished her round of antibiotics. Exhausting.

In the middle of this all, we have begun the process of looking for schools for Elliot and Ana. Next fall, Ana becomes eligible for pre-K, and Elliot loses Early Steps (in-house therapy) and will have to receive services through the public school system. This double whammy has me piqued to say the least. Here's what's guiding my process/anxiety:

• It would be ideal if there were a learning community that both my children can attend.
• I know there are "super-teachers" out there for children with special needs. Of course, we want one of those. Many of these loving professionals exist in schools that are lackluster. The word in the special needs community is, "you have to get in X class." I'm not feeling that. I want a super program, where the principal/director espouses a certain attitude of inclusion that is pervasive in all classrooms and functions with the whole staff.
• I don't think I want Elliot in a special class all day, and not included with the general population.
• Elliot doesn't need to go somewhere else. We can bring him to a public school once a week or a couple of days a week, and he can get these services and we can bring him back to AH. But if there's a good place out there for him, I believe he should be there all the time.

Yes, now we are dealing with the next phase of our life in learning about special needs. One of the neurologist's prophecies come true: He may be in special classes.

And yes, I've shared a life with this little person and see him for who he is, but here comes the part in his life where he gets some label that is supposed to communicate who he is to all of his teachers. Here comes the part where he is separated, quite possibly with children having severe special needs who may not be able to socialize with him in the way he craves. Here comes the part where he may be teased and hurt because he is different. Here comes the part where I really have to let go. I'm wondering if I can.

Excuse me while I vomit.

And before my best friend interrupts this blog with an important message about children with special needs and how it's not really like I just described and how he'll be fine (just like he's always been fine), and need to make clear: I know what a really good school can do. I also know that there is no substitute for good parenting. So it is with equal parts hope and resignation that I begin this process of finding a place. A place where my children will spend many hours, where they will learn more about grown ups by what they don't say, and where, if we play our cards right, they will get a hand up.

So in this process: ISAS schools, catholic schools, public schools, magnet schools, charter schools...you name it. My first flirtation with finding a school they could both attend didn't go so well. I went to an informational meeting for ISAS schools, and when I raised my hand to ask the panel about children with special needs, I was met with a look of half-fear and half-confusion by the admissions director. Yes, there are learning specialists to help children with dyslexia and all that. At which point I felt like standing up and saying loudly, "No. That's not what I mean. What about kids with cerebral palsy? Who need therapy? Who can't walk?" Blood rising in my cheeks, I bit my tongue. This is clearly not where he belongs.

And is that where Ana belongs? Does she need to be in an environment where everyone can do. What will she learn about inclusion and children with special needs from her school, even though she doesn't need the services? What attitudes will she develop from her school? Do I need to let go of the idea that the perfect school for each of them might be different?

After the presentation, the director of the Parenting Center confirmed my assertation: The ISAS schools (as a whole) are not poised to serve children with special needs. It seems like public schools are the way to go. What does that mean exactly? I think I'm about to find out another good reason to live in Jefferson Parish. Wish me luck.