Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me

We've been robbed. Again.

Yes, less dramatic than my husband being carjacked at gunpoint in front of our home at 9:30 on a Tuesday morning.

More lucrative than when our car's spare change was pilfered from the ashtray on a Saturday.

Just as disgusting is this newest violation. My bike hitched to the kiddie bike wagon. GONE. Our edger. GONE. Kevin's miter saw. GONE.

If this keeps up, soon we too will be GONE.

What has happened to my neighborhood?

Email from Rene in Guinea

Our good friends Rene and Jim find themselves now working in Guinea, Africa. Here's how my latest email from Rene reads:


Subject: Cross-cultural finding



This is by far my FAVORITE Nigerian "Film" title to date. I originally thought the title was "Ass of Fire," but found this epic equally wonderful. (We had to stop the car on the road, and turn around so that I could take a picture of it...enjoy.) Try to order it on Netflix.....R

I'm happy to hear she's not lacking good entertainment, among other things. Miss you Rene.

Mixed Results

Continuing on with the theme that life brings you what you need, often in a way you don't foresee...

Saturday's workday at school materialized only one me. Our volunteer coordinator wasn't in town, and I made NO effort to advertize the event, or have sign up sheets, or even a sign. The week was too kooky for that. After twenty lonely minutes during which I finished drafting an ask letter of $10K for school furniture, I left school with every intention of picking up my recently dropped off kids from Tita's...and heading back home. Feeling a little grumbly, but thinking about plan B.

During my drive, Aretha wailin', I changed course, which in my routine life these days, I don't usually have the lassitude to do. Remembering a gift card for an unnamed big box book retailer, I headed north on the causeway. Just the act of turning was liberating. Then I remembered my generous birthday gift from the board...a spa package gift card at a salon, just rotting away (along with my hair, skin and nails). Raking through my purse for the cell phone, I dialed the number. "Are you open on Memorial Day? Yes? Wonderful." Sign me up, baby. "Exfoliate me!" became Aretha's cry.

With a quick stop to Earthsavers to look at shoes for myself, I spent the better part of an hour browsing books, sipping a fatty frozen frappe, and feeling actually relaxed.

I need to schedule more workdays, is what I'm thinking.

Ear Tubes Surgery

Elliot's surgery for putting in ear tubes will happen Friday, June 8. No matter how many things go down, I can't get used to having him put under. Anyway, here are the details:

• Elliot can't eat after midnight.


• arrive at 7 am. The order of surgeries depends on the age of the child. The hospital may call the night before, and let you know of the exact time. Otherwise, come by and prepare to wait.


• Dr. Cecola will meet with us.


• The surgery itself takes 25 minutes or so, although he may be in "surgery" longer as he comes out of the fog.


• He will have tubes put in both ears, and his adenoids will be checked for swelling, and removed, if they are the culprits.

My little guy goes through so much crap. We took Ana's great health for granted in so many ways, ya know? We celebrated her clapping, but didn't think her brain is making those hands move together. Way to go, Ana's brain!

He's a real fighter, much more than any of us, and less smarmy.

Apparently, this outpatient surgery is a real breeze. But we'll keep the fridge stocked with El's favorite chupaletas anyway.

Happy Hour?

For the last 5 months of Fridays, Tita has kidnapped the kids. Ana spends the night. Elliot hangs out until 10 pm or so. Sometimes, I join them for dinner, and just hang out at the home I grew up in, in Harahan. Sometimes, I just sleep. Sometimes, I just veg.

The Friday night before last, I joined my friend Erin for margaritas. A tradition I could certainly get used to. I was looking forward to this past Friday with great relish. Thinking of all the watering holes we could scandalize with our loud reminsces and candid conversation, I dialed her number eagerly as the end of the workday rolled around.

She was oh so cheery.

Erin: It's a beautiful day!

Me: Yes, er- beautiful. I've had a terrible week. Where are we going?

Erin: Why don't we go exercise? It's so pretty outside, and the park will be lovely

Me: WHAT?! You're kidding me, right? I have had the worse week.

Erin: I know, I know. You'll feel so much better afterwards.

Me: You suck.

Yes, we walked. Did I feel better afterwards? I don't know. The cold beer at Whole Foods afterwards wasn't quite what I had in mind. Should I look for a new drinking buddy? Or just try harder to bring her over to the dark side? Wrong answers include: just go for a walk on Fridays instead of happy hour--you'll feel better AND aren't you glad you went?

Anyway, it takes a good friend to drag you kicking and screaming around Audubon Park two times.

You put the tubes in, you put the tubes out...

Shake it all about.

We saw Elliot's ENT today, and not only will our little guy have tubes put in sometime in early JUNE, but he will also (possibly) have his adenoids removed. These tissues, like tonsils, are one of the first lines of defense against infection entering the body through the mouth. However, if they case more harm than good (and drop fluid into the ears, for example), they should be removed.

Elliot's doctor will be taking a look at his to see if they are enlarged.

He asked lots of questions about Elliot's breathing and sleeping, trying to determine if he is sleeping with his mouth open. It's tricky to say. Elliot's mouth muscles are weak, and his mouth often hangs open because of this.

During surgery, if Elliot's adenoids are NOT swollen, they are obviously not a culprit in his whole mouth open, respiratory troubles (ala swallow study) piece, and just the tubes will be inserted.

*whew* Let' s hope this makes a difference, and that his left ear will be trouble free, and allow him to hear. We will not schedule his follow up hearing test (the one that was rescheduled due to the fluid in the left) until after the surgery.

This has been a busy month with Elliot's appointments! I am still considering hiring an assistant to manage his loaded schedule. Any takers?

I'm no Martha Stewart, but...

Last night, while I was cookie-cutting Ana's sandwich for the next day into the shape of a star, and Elliot's into the shape of a dog, my mom commented, "You do this kind of stuff everyday?"

Me: I just want the kids to know that I am thinking of them when they get their lunches.

Today, I happened to be in Ana's classroom at lunchtime. As she unpacked her "star puzzle" sandwich, she said, "Mommy, I'm thinking of you."

My little eavesdropper. What a sweetie.

Br1ght School 2

Kevin and I went to visit the Br1ght School, which is housed in R@yne Memorial Childcare Center. I was tremendously anxious on our way. I'm not quite sure what I expected.

Our first impressions weren't very positive. The school is actually a large, comfy classroom...5 kids, 3 teachers, one of whom greeted us with an expectant look, and "...and you are?"

Is it being raised in New Orleans, or by traditional Hispanic parents, I don't know. Maybe it's just common courtesy, but that was a BIG turnoff. If this had been a restaurant or other service, we would have left. But when your child is involved, you'll put up with anything.

As we spoke with the director, we (and they) communicated with greater ease...but I hate the feeling that someone treats you better because they approve of you. After finding out that I direct a childcare center, they were even more excited, as they are looking to expand. Despite the fact that the work they do there is good, the attitude did not scream "partnership" to me.

So yes, the work they do there is good. The program runs 5 days a week from 8:30-11:30. There are two special instructors and one speech therapist at any time. There will never be more than 6 children ages 2-5. Additionally, one volunteer and one nurse intern came to help while we were there. The children engage in free play with the teachers who sign while speaking, and assist with visuals. Each child has one-on-one time with the speech therapist when they are there. And it's free.

We decided to have Elliot go two mornings a week. He would get full advantage of the sign language and extra therapy. And continue in the language rich, warm and loving environment in his classroom at Abeona House. It's such a non-commitment (2 mornings, free) that if it doesn't work out, we can't lose. And if his hearing loss progresses, we can expand his participation, or re-evaluate.

So that's where we are with that. Tomorrow, we have an appointment with his ENT to take a look at his ears (and get the all-clear for the left-ear hearing test), and discuss the possibility of tubes to help relieve this pressure.

As our speech therapist explained before we knew of the right-ear hearing loss: If he has mild loss in one ear, and fluid in the other, that's affecting his language development, because he can't receive language well. It's like his underwater, esp. if he's had ear infections often.

Elliot's teacher, Gwen, is demanding that I DEMAND TUBES. She's the same one who demanded that I DEMAND A STEROID SHOT when I was sick. She asked me if I needed her to come with me. I said YES. Let's hope the doctor will guide us in the right direction, and that I have the information to back up our standpoint.

Busy Body

This week has been tremendously hectic. Each of my waking & working moments has some specific task assigned to it, feels like. *deep breath*.

These last weeks, I've really been missing yoga. The calm. The physical power. The tone and flexibility that have been replaced by Wiggle and Jiggle. I think I need to look into that again. I'm a stress eater, and the stress of my life has resulted in too many extra pounds.

I started my morning with a quick walk to the horse stables. The batture (space between the grassy hilltop of the levee and the Mississippi River) looks drastically different since I was there last...the large trees are heavy with leaves, vines are flowering...on my walk, each house remained hidden with foliage until I was just upon it. It was a great start to my day.

I can't tell you the last time I did any form of exercise. Maybe it was the week that I rode the kids to school in the bike wagon. Ana was so good to let me go this morning (she was the only one up when I was getting ready).

M: Mama is going for a fast walk.
A: (panic)Are you going bye-bye?
M: I'll be right back.
A: (panicy face)
M: I need to exercise, so I can be healthy, ok?
A: Ok, mama. (lips pucker)
*smooch*

When I returned, she did her best power walk impression, and asked, "Did you walk like this mama?"

Yes, baby, yes.

Let's see if I get up tomorrow?

Notes to the Babysitter

My best friend and Elliot's godmama, Erin, will be watching the children tonight while I attend an Oak Street Association meeting. Here's my email to her this morning:

They really are very good children--(-;

Thanks for helping out.

Things to know-

• The kids love being outside. Spend as much time as you care to outdoors before and after dinner. Elliot will crawl to the street, if you let him. Eagle eye on him. He MUST wear pants and shoes or he will tear his skin. He insists on crawling on the cement. Ana may climb on the crepe myrtles next door. She is pretty skillful, and checks herself when climbing too high, or standing on a weak branch.
  
• Dinner: Red beans and brown rice. Sorry, I'm not trying to commit a sacrilege here. We were out of white. Elliot will be a complete mess afterwards (even his hair). Since our bathtub is out, feel free to give him a washdown in any sink you choose. Ana can go bathless tonight. Lately, she's been like a stray cat at the car wash at bath time. I *can't wait* until our tub is operational.
  
• I'll leave out pjs. If you need spare set of clothes, root through their drawers. Elliot's diapers are in the bedside table, as are the wipes with the diaper cream in the container.
  
• Ana's favorite pasttime is collecting random toys and presenting them as gifts, covering them with blankets, putting them in boxes, carting them in strollers, etc.
  
• Elliot likes to play in the toilet(-; The bathroom door stays closed with good reason. However, Ana's 9-1-1 potty emergencies will have her screaming, "The door is closed! The door is closed!" You might want to wear tennis shoes.
  
• The kids both LOVE books. However, story time with the two of them is near-impossible, as Elliot will climb on top of Ana repeatedly, which annoys her to no end. It's best to read her a story, and give him a board book, then it's hid turn...or vice versa.
  
• Please know that I am writing so much because three sentences into this I realized it was blog worthy.

Also, feel free to turn on American Idol. I don't expect them to be in bed at that time. In fact, I'll want a full recap from you when I get home. Ana knows that Simon is a meanie--buffer her from his cruelty if need be.

Thanks again,

Emmy

Bright School of New Orleans

Tomorrow, we will visit the Bright School to tour the facility, and see if it's a good match for Elliot.

I have mixed feelings about it all. There are some definite benefits to having Elliot so close to me. Contact with his 4 therapists each week, discussions with the teachers about what he needs..Elliot has grown tremendously at Abeona House. I have no doubt that he is flourishing and happy because of the love, patience, and instruction of his teachers.

However, if there is an environment that weaves sign language and literacy in a way that has greater impact for my child with hearing loss, there's not really a choice. I chose the job at Abeona House because of Elliot, and what I perceived his needs to be. If those needs have changed, I need to be prepared to choose what's best for him.

There are no easy answers on this road. I'm just grateful to have good company.

Mother's Day 2

Mother's Day was lots of fun, and thanks to our friends Erin & Chuck, we'll have graphics to add to this post later (we love the "new to you" camera! Thanks!).

The day actually started on Friday, with Elliot giving me his fingerpainted rose card, and Ana a papier-mache vase with flowers. These hand-made gifts are the gems of parenthood. We had those proudly on display during our second annual Mothers Day Brunch. We have Tita and Tito over, and enjoy Kevin's home-cooked goodness!

After that, I typically like to spend the day having fun with the kids...just enjoying them. I've never been lured to the Irma Thomas performance at the Audubon Zoo, or the other concert in the quarter, although those sound like fun. I prefer the quieter joys of our home. We spent the early afternoon playing in the garden, and water...then went over to Tita's for fun in the slip and slide. Neither of the kids had ever seen one. The pictures I have of them playing in it are priceless! We're going to have to get one for home/school.

After a fun-filled day, the kids are asleep, and it's only 6. They will sleep through the night. What a treat that is.

Happy Mothers Day to all you sexy muthas. And for you mamas to be too(-=

Mother's Day

Happy Mothers Day, Mom.

I am so grateful to have you as a model of unconditional love.

You are an amazing woman. In your humbleness, always admiring what you see as signs of strength in me, never recognizing your incredible endurance to work through life's lumps.

Your smile lights a thousand darknesses. I feel like it's always there to guide me.

When I think of you, I see the devoted mother, and doting Tita...but also the five-year old orphan throwing stones at vultures as you stood guard over the meat drying on the line near the Rio Chocolate in Honduras. I see the childhood lost, that you reclaim with each silly hairdo you try with the kids, or each fun jig as you samba through the living room.

How did you become such an amazing mother with no model? It's so hard to do, even with you to guide me...and you had no one.

I see your faith in me. Your reserved parenting, allowing me to make my own way, my own mistakes, reserving judgement. I work to learn from that, and make it part of myself. It doesn't come naturally to me, but I am trying. If I can be just a little bit like you, I will have succeeded in this life.

I love you, Mom. Happy Mothers Day.

Emmy

PS: To all my mom friends, thank you for allowing me to learn from you too.

Maple Street Books

I so enjoy my occasional storytelling at Maple Street Children's Books.

It's very powerful sharing a story with a child...you go on a journey together, usually unsure of where you're going. I love to see children imagining the scenarios and characters I'm creating, or watching their faces relax at a particularly descriptive narrative rich with metaphors. I'm also guilty of using my stories like an asset, dangling them like sugary cupcakes...

As a middle school teacher, I thoroughly enjoyed the teaching of writing, and finding one's voice. I found it very powerful to help an adolescent reveal themselves, and explore their ideas through writing.

In my current work with young children, I've found the writings of educator, Vivian Paley to be inspiring. Her portraits of young children at different ages has helped me understand the intracacies of the stages of development. Paley's writing style is anecdotal, and rich with dialogue (mostly between children). Her analysis is authentic and her voice humble. I find her writing to be of great benefit to my parenting and teaching.

My work with oral storytelling at Abeona began in response to her book, Mrs. Tully's Classroom. In it, Vivian Paley shadows a childcare provider whose only form of discipline is the parable. She simply creates vignettes with a standard cast of characters (meant to be from her childhood experiences) who work to solve a similar problem, or she explains the effect of detrimental actions on the community. Free from guilt, the parties extract the lesson, which was rarely spelled out directly. My stories with Ana about Toralora and Ol' Ms. Moses come from the rural calm Mrs. Tully revealed in her story-approach to young children. I continue to strive for that effect--of not being overly pejorative, and respecting the child to take the gift that the story gives: the lesson that will help them understand their feelings, actions, consequences of action. It feels like a lifelong journey.

I've toyed with the idea of beginning the children's book-writing process. If I knew an artist, I might consider moving forward, although I haven't drafted one page of anything on paper. For know, I am enjoying this in and of itself. Like most of my decisions, there's a lot of intuition at play, and not a clear path that I'm expecting to take.

Teacher Appreciation Week

There was nothing quite like opening my "bag of love" where parents could leave their children's teachers thank you notes.

No one goes in to teaching to be appreciated. I guess that's why it feels so special.

At the end of an especially challenging week, all those kindnesses really kept me going.

Thank you, parents, for taking a moment to let each of us know our impact.

House fire takes three

We awoke this morning to the news that there had been a fire one block over. The corner of Oak and Coolidge Street. I thought of the two houses that it could be. I didn't know either of them. But in our tight-knit community, that kind of reality hits hard.

I got up and looked online for a story or picture. The image I found was of a brown house, inhabitants still unnamed. As I looked at the photo, my heart sank. This looked like the front of a former high school classmate...a new friend since they'd moved in the neighborhood. Motherhood and civic activism had connected us. It couldn't be that she and her family were the ones (they weren't).

I walked down the street. I ran into another neighbor who told me that the family had been old friends of theirs. How could I explain the twisted feeling of relief upon learning that it wasn't my friend? I just excused myself and walked there myself.

Seeing the charred and hollowed house was hard. This was certainly was one of the block's prettiest, with a well-tended garden, pond with goldfish...Later today, we learned that our neighbor's new palm trees were planted by the father yesterday.

They left behind a 13 year-old son. I couldn't help but think how he must be feeling. I would certainly rather go up in flames.

The front of the house is now a make-shift shrine. Despite the flowers I had chosen to bring, the TV crews are keeping me home. I can't do that again, I feel.

May they rest in peace. And may he find comfort in their memories, and the love they shared with him.

Our First Grant

YAY! Our first real grant: $3880 from Junior League of New Orleans. I can't wait to put our Home project into action! Thank you, Junior League! This will go a long way at our little Abeona House.

I could really get used to this grant writing thing.

Elliot Making Strides

Please forgive our picture-less blogs. Our camera is broken, and will not surrender the images from our vacation, Jazz Fest, and even this:

Elliot is walking for long stretches. Always with a goal in mind..."Walk to Daddy" or "Walk with Ana to the bed." And he is smiling, and laughing, so proud of himself, all the way.

He's not choosing to walk, but will usually comply with a request. He's too quick of a crawler to give that up. We're happy to see him crawl too. It strengthens his hip and is good for his brain. Did you know the benefits of cross-crawling?

But it is a beautiful thing, watching Elliot walk, grinning from ear to ear, celebrating himself. He's worked SO incredibly hard, and his knees are tired. I can hardly wait to see him chasing Ana around the house! Way to go, my guy. You're a real champ.

Sunday, Monday, Happy Days...

A couple of days ago, I pulled the rolling chair back from my desk at work, and thought about what I might work on...answered the phone with a cheery, "Hello, Abeona House," chided with a late parent about the challenges of leaving the house without losing your sanity. As I sat down, I felt a lightness. It was so unusual, yet familiar. De ja vu? After a few moments of trying to figure out what it was, I realized that I was feeling happy. As I "humphed" to myself, I recognized the burden I've been carrying, and allowed it to leave me...for a time. It was quite a relief to see that I could have that feeling so genuinely again. I was grateful for that.

I've been thinking about happiness quite a bit in the absence of it. A week ago, I found myself smiling at an enthusiastic father holding his baby above him at the bus stop. I don't think he would've noticed if the bus had come tomorrow. He was engrossed and in love. As I was grinning away, I caught my own reflection in my rear view mirror, and saw that my smile was actually some kind of tight-lipped frown looking thing. "Dear God!" I thought, "I've forgotten how!" This was quite troubling. I've always had a reputation as a smiler...with my 8th graders, with past boyfriends. Kevin and I talk about how we've aged so much in the last couple of years. Katrina, Elliot, work. We're pretty pooped. But this was ridiculous.

Since then, I've been making a conscious effort to smile. With teeth. Especially when running errands, and doing other things that usually make me frown. I'm amazed at it's power to improve my frame of mind.

I'm committed to making happiness less of a foreign feeling these days. And that, I believe, is half the battle.

What I know about parenting

What I know about parenting (maybe the only thing I know) is that it's hard--that children go through these phases that make me question their whole development and character--and then it gets easier--and it's all rosy and lovely. And that I'd better appreciate the lovely because the pain of growth is coming right behind it.

Ana is simply lovely. Erin and Chuck had a crawfish boil today, and I was so proud to be her mom. She looked the role tonight. Cherry dress, red hair ribbon, electric blue satin chinese shoes...Ana is developing social skills. In the past, coming into a party in progress always spelled trouble. She would hide in the layers of my skirt, especially if anyone got to gooey, or close, and wanted to talk. Even family members who she sees often. Now she is making eye contact (we work on that all the time) and saying hello, and learning about good manners and how to respond to people.
-Hello there. I love your barrette.
-Thank you.
For example.

Tonight she got the hiccups in front of Erin's newlywed friends. My darling said "Excuse me" after each of a series of 5 hiccups. At that point, I took her outside for some fresh air. It seemed exhausting, always either hiccupping or saying something. I didn't want her to pass out.

But truly. Her lovely manners and emerging social skills showed how much she's grown. And we all noticed. Looking good, Ana. I know the rough patch will be coming soon, but I see who you are through it all. Smart, loving, and kind. Keep up the good work!

*Love* our pediatrician

Today was our appointment with our beloved Dr. Oates. It's always great to see her. She is so complimentary of our kids, and I feel that with her, I can speak freely. About all our therapists, neurologists, opthamalogists, ENTs, audiologists, fears, questions, etc. She is our home base, and has always been, since Ana was young, our cheerleader, once calling us her "favorite new family." Shhh...don't tell anyone! Those words validated us so much, as anxious first-time parents unsure of so much.

Today was Elliot's visit for his polio and MMR shots. I was relieved to learn that Dr. Oates hadn't prepared the MMR shot after she'd heard from the nurse that I had lots of MMR-autism questions. She said, "You all have too much going on for that today." That's the kind of doctor she is...helping us eat the elephant one bite at a time.

Here's a summary of our visit:

• Elliot looks glorious and happy. Well done! He's one ounce shy of 24 pounds.
• He has fluid in both ears. We knew of the fluid in the right ear at the time of the test. The fluid would not skew the test result to the degree that was indicated, and so it's (impossible?) unlikely that he's can hear in that ear.
• We discussed tubes, as he seems to have had lots of fluid over the last year in one or both ears. With these hearing issues, we can't have Elliot's one good ear full of fluid all the time! As I've said, we are operating as a family as though Elliot will lose his hearing in his left ear. Did I mention that these tubes might be the answer to this chest gurgle? Wouldn't that be a 2-fer(-;
• When Elliot was first diagnosed with CMV(12/23/05), Dr. Oates and our neurologist discussed all of these anti-virals that I alluded to in a previous post that might have prevented late-onset hearing loss. These medicines are not currently best clinical practice. I am encouraged to hear that Elliot's two primary physicians have already researched and dismissed these.
• We will see our ENT in 10 days to see if the fluid is clear, then set up another hearing test with the possibility of tubes being put in somewhere in that time frame. I'm almost too excited about the tubes. Does this mean he'll sleep better too? I might be expecting to much from this, but let me dream, ok?
• I asked Dr. Oates to find out where all the current research on CMV is happening, and if there is a doctor who we can discuss his diagnosis with. All of our wonderful doctors and therapists give only a piece of the puzzle. I feel like we need to talk with someone who knows the puzzle in its entireity. This is all happening at UA-Birmingham. She is going to make some connections there on our behalf.

Yes, we are making progress, I feel, and a visit with Dr. Oates always helps. On our way out with Elliot's polio shot bandaid on his forearm, and two enormous stickers in tow, she says, "Elliot's lucky to have you two as parents. He really is."

How can I tell her that Elliot's made us who we are? Would she understand? He is a tremendously powerful little boy. Thank you, Elliot.

Barium Swallow Study

The good news: Elliot is acting as any two year old should- rebelling against anything we grown ups want to badly. He refused most every attempt at barium-dipped food this morning, wanting instead to point at the stickers on the X-ray, and pluck at the velcro on mama's anti-radiation vest. We managed to get in some banana pudding, and thin milk with barium.

The better news: Both foods went down "the right tube."

Funny thing: I expected to hear something different. Kevin and I both went into this with the expectation that the chest gurgle that seems pretty chronic? was due to this inefficient swallow. I'm not entirely convinced that this limited test with my rebellious son was a real assessment. As the administrator of the test told us, "This is only a snapshot of where he is right now with this." So going forward, I think we'll ask to have this test done every few months...and also pay more attention to this chest gurgle and its frequency.

The quandry: When we met with El's neurologist a year ago, our pediatrician warned us that his approach was to "give the worst case scenario, and let the parents be pleasantly surprised along the way."

His doom and gloom forecast on January 3, 2006 was physically painful: "He may not walk, he may not talk, he may eat out of a tube, he may have seizures (he went on to act out 5 or so different kinds of seizures), he may be deaf, he may be blind, he will probably be in special classes. I do not know. Do you have any questions?"

We were dumbfounded. We finished the appointment in near silence. As we left the appointment, we walked into the Social Services department at Children's. We met with a social worker, whose kindness, and love, and knowledge of all the supports there for our family gave us the safety to cry.

After that meeting, our team of therapists have swept in with the "can do miracles" spirit. I guess that's because many years of experience have shown them what early intervention can do. Their success stories are the stuff of Hallmark movies and Oprah guests. We've adapted their can-do spirit too. Elliot's sheer will and tremendous spirit has slowly erased the neurologist's words, and a month ago (at our third visit with him) we saw our neurologist smile, and acknowledge Elliot's progress. It was a real success.

The quandry is--how to temper the doom and gloom with the can-do spirit...I can't pretend not to know what I do. However, internalizing it and accepting it makes me feel less like a fighter and more like a victim. How do I move forward from here? I know the answer. One day at a time. Just take life one day at a time.

Thursday, we go to El's pediatrician to check out the fluid in his left ear. It's likely from his test that he's got some issues in there. Once we clear up the fluid, we'll be rescheduling the hearing test to check out his left ear. I'm feeling doom and gloom about that test. Maybe that's just the armor I need so I won't be bulldozed here...