I finally get a night out with the girls and come home to a dog that has been sprayed by a skunk! The one night my husband is in charge and this is what happens. Now I know why I never go anywhere. lol
Since it happened on his watch I made hubby give the dog a bath. I found a recipe for de-skunkifying a dog online so he gave it a try. Afterward I went out to sniff the poor guy to see if he was allowed back in the house. Nope, still stinky. So mama had to step in and take matters into her own hands. Armed with a bottle of vinegar and some mandarin orange body wash, I set out to prove to my husband why, after seven years of marriage, he should still appreciate his wife. Now our dog smells like a pickle! But hey, a pickle smells better than a skunk, right? I think so too.
Sunday, September 23, 2007
Friday, September 14, 2007
Casts, casts, casts and more casts
Yesterday I took Thomas in to the physical therapist who has been doing his serial casting. I was so sure he wouldn't need another set. In fact I was hoping like heck he wouldn't. I am so tired of the casts. They make every little thing just a little harder, and in our world we don't need things a little harder. Why can't something out there make our life just a little easier? Anyway, I'm getting off track. So she did decide to put on a new set of casts. She said even though both feet are at +2, she wants to try doing it one or two more weeks. I don't understand why. His new braces are in, I'm dedicated to making him wear them as long as I can each day. I'm ready to move on to the braces and practicing with his walker. Why is she holding us back?
I'm sure she is thinking in terms of what is in the best interest of Thomas. I respect that. But it's been nine weeks now. Nine long weeks of not being able to put him in the bathtub, having to buy new clothes that will fit over the casts, blisters, legs rubbed raw, and the added weight for me to carry around. Also, I don't know if any of you have ever tried to change a diaper on a child who has two very heavy casts on his legs, it is not easy.
Yeah, I know, poor me right? What really matters is that Thomas couldn't care less about the casts. He acts as if they aren't even there. I wish I could have his attitude. And more than just in this instance. If I had his disposition and outlook on life I would be a much happier person. This child is usually smiling, laughing, and finding joy in the most basic and strangest places. He doesn't sweat the small stuff. I really need to take a page from his book.
I'm sure she is thinking in terms of what is in the best interest of Thomas. I respect that. But it's been nine weeks now. Nine long weeks of not being able to put him in the bathtub, having to buy new clothes that will fit over the casts, blisters, legs rubbed raw, and the added weight for me to carry around. Also, I don't know if any of you have ever tried to change a diaper on a child who has two very heavy casts on his legs, it is not easy.
Yeah, I know, poor me right? What really matters is that Thomas couldn't care less about the casts. He acts as if they aren't even there. I wish I could have his attitude. And more than just in this instance. If I had his disposition and outlook on life I would be a much happier person. This child is usually smiling, laughing, and finding joy in the most basic and strangest places. He doesn't sweat the small stuff. I really need to take a page from his book.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Just Our Luck
A few months ago I tried to get Thomas into an intensive therapy program called Europeds. There are only 2 or 3 centers in the entire United States and we just happen to live less than two hours from one of them. At the time the waiting list was extremely long, but we were put on it and patiently waited to get the call.
Meanwhile our new physiatrist got on the ball. He gave Thomas botox injections in his legs, has him being casted and going through physical and occupational therapy, and wrote a prescription for a new set of AFO's (leg braces).
Our insurance company will only cover 60 consecutive days of therapy per YEAR. So however many visits we can fit in a year is all we get. They consider the casting as therapy so that takes away from his 60 consecutive days.
Well, today I got the call from Europeds, they have reached our name on the waiting list. We have just one more full week of therapy available through our insurance though. I am beyond bummed about this. I have heard such great things about Europeds and seen some amazing videos on their website. It makes me so mad that they finally have room for us and we don't have the means to cover the expense.
They have put us back on the list for the first of the year, when our insurance replenishes the 60 days. I am going to make sure I have all my ducks in a row for when the time comes so I don't have to fight with my pediatrician over the referral for this therapy. So I'm keeping my fingers crossed that he can get in in January 2008.
Meanwhile our new physiatrist got on the ball. He gave Thomas botox injections in his legs, has him being casted and going through physical and occupational therapy, and wrote a prescription for a new set of AFO's (leg braces).
Our insurance company will only cover 60 consecutive days of therapy per YEAR. So however many visits we can fit in a year is all we get. They consider the casting as therapy so that takes away from his 60 consecutive days.
Well, today I got the call from Europeds, they have reached our name on the waiting list. We have just one more full week of therapy available through our insurance though. I am beyond bummed about this. I have heard such great things about Europeds and seen some amazing videos on their website. It makes me so mad that they finally have room for us and we don't have the means to cover the expense.
They have put us back on the list for the first of the year, when our insurance replenishes the 60 days. I am going to make sure I have all my ducks in a row for when the time comes so I don't have to fight with my pediatrician over the referral for this therapy. So I'm keeping my fingers crossed that he can get in in January 2008.
Monday, September 10, 2007
The First Day of School
Tuesday, September 4th was the first day of school. What a change from last year for mom. I was actually looking forward to it this year. It went surprisingly smooth. Thomas, as usual, cried when I got him dressed. He always does that because he hates to leave the house. I can't say as I blame him since he normally is off to a doctor or therapist where he is poked, prodded, man-handled, and whatever else they do to torture the poor kid. Once he was dressed I wheeled in the stroller and he stopped crying. I don't normally wheel in the stroller unless it is a school day, and I think he knew that even though he had a three month break to try to forget. He happily sat in the stroller for a few minutes before we headed outside. Once outside he patiently waited with his headphones blasting the Wiggles, a book in his lap, and a sucker in his mouth.With the bus I expected tears, but I was pleasantly surprised. Not a single tear. No whining, no crying, no frowny-face, nothing. No smile either, but hey, anything is better than tears.
Thomas is going to the same school as last year, same bus driver, same teacher, same classroom, different classmates.
Thomas is going to the same school as last year, same bus driver, same teacher, same classroom, different classmates.
Therapy makes him sad.
Poor Thomas. Poor Mom. This is the face I have to look at while we are on our way to therapy. As soon as Thomas sees a certain landmark on the drive to therapy he pulls this face. It is the saddest face I have ever seen in my life and it breaks my heart that I am partially at fault for causing it. It's not that he doesn't like therapy. Once we get there and the therapist comes out for him, he is generally happy. He has fun back there, really he does. So why the sad face? I wish I knew, I wish he could tell me, I wish he didn't need therapy, I wish I wish I wish... But it is what it is and he has to go. So four days a week I try not to look in the rearview mirror. And four days a week I fail, I look, and my heart breaks a little each time.
Monday, August 27, 2007
It's not polite to stare...
Thomas is in his fifth week of serial casting. Serial casting is a process in which a child who has tight legs gets to endure a series of weeklong casts on his legs. Each week the cast sets the foot at a varying angle to his leg. The result is that, for a few months, the child's legs will be less tight.
Thomas has cerebral palsy, which in his case means his legs are severely spastic, or tight. When he attempts to use his walker he spends his time on his toes. He has been so tight lately that he refuses to use the walker, preferring instead to crawl his way around wherever we are.
So after about a dozen injections of botox in each leg, which will help loosen his muscles, the casting began. Oh what fun it is! To add an additional 8 pounds to my already almost too heavy for me to carry child. "Now don't forget, Mom, do not get these casts wet." Oh Joy! No baths for a week at a time. This should prove interesting.
Now to explain a little further, these casts are not permanent. At the end of each week I get the pleasure of unravelling the material used for the cast. This usually happens an hour or so before bedtime so we can throw in the weekly bath. After four weeks of this Thomas no longer puts up a fight at having to sit still long enough for me to remove them. And after four weeks I have become an expert at finding where one peice of material ends and the next begins. In the end we have a large pile of this mesh-like material, some form of stocking, and usually some very unnatractive brown tape that had been used to keep it all together. I assure you, it isn't the trendiest look of the year, but it sure is functional.
So Thursday is casting day, and since having the casts on makes any activity a lot more difficult, we choose to go about all of our business and errands on casting day. The first day of casting came as a bit of a shock to both of us. Thomas was indignant at having to lay on his belly for two hours while the therapists fought him, kicking and screaming, to put on the casts.
Afterward we headed to the grocery store. That was mom's surprise. No cart for us, thank you very much, it seems they don't make carts for almost-five-year-olds with both legs in casts. So I decide to use his stroller and just grab the bare essentials we can't live without. By now, four and a half years into this game, you wouldn't think that would suprise me, but it did. Maybe just because I wasn't thinking about the small inconveniences so much as the big ones, like no baths, no jeans, and an added 8 pounds to deal with.
Surprise number two came once we walked in the doors. Every person, yes EVERY person we passed couldn't help but gape at Thomas. I admit, it might seem a bit odd for a four year old to be wearing two casts. But couple that with his special needs stroller, which looks like a wheelchair without the big rear wheels, and you'd think people would be able to put two and two together. Not in hickville USA, and probably not anywhere else for that matter. The stares I got, or should I say glares, the whispers, the not-so-subtle glances at Thomas and then at me, were more than I could bare. I grabbed my last needed item and hightailed it to the checkout, out the door, and to my van, where I promptly fell to pieces.
What was I thinking? That I could possibly go to the store for once, just once, without one rude comment or one pointed stare? I can't get that on a normal day, what made me think I could get that on the day Thomas had two casts placed on his legs?
What was I thinking? I don't know. But I'll tell you what I thought when I got home. It's time to order some custom t-shirts. I want one to say "Yes, my mom broke them. Keep staring, you're next!" And maybe "I know I'm cute, but you don't have to stare." Or should I go right to the point "It's not polite to stare"? To be honest I didn't order any of them, but wouldn't it be great if I did?
Thomas has cerebral palsy, which in his case means his legs are severely spastic, or tight. When he attempts to use his walker he spends his time on his toes. He has been so tight lately that he refuses to use the walker, preferring instead to crawl his way around wherever we are.
So after about a dozen injections of botox in each leg, which will help loosen his muscles, the casting began. Oh what fun it is! To add an additional 8 pounds to my already almost too heavy for me to carry child. "Now don't forget, Mom, do not get these casts wet." Oh Joy! No baths for a week at a time. This should prove interesting.
Now to explain a little further, these casts are not permanent. At the end of each week I get the pleasure of unravelling the material used for the cast. This usually happens an hour or so before bedtime so we can throw in the weekly bath. After four weeks of this Thomas no longer puts up a fight at having to sit still long enough for me to remove them. And after four weeks I have become an expert at finding where one peice of material ends and the next begins. In the end we have a large pile of this mesh-like material, some form of stocking, and usually some very unnatractive brown tape that had been used to keep it all together. I assure you, it isn't the trendiest look of the year, but it sure is functional.
So Thursday is casting day, and since having the casts on makes any activity a lot more difficult, we choose to go about all of our business and errands on casting day. The first day of casting came as a bit of a shock to both of us. Thomas was indignant at having to lay on his belly for two hours while the therapists fought him, kicking and screaming, to put on the casts.
Afterward we headed to the grocery store. That was mom's surprise. No cart for us, thank you very much, it seems they don't make carts for almost-five-year-olds with both legs in casts. So I decide to use his stroller and just grab the bare essentials we can't live without. By now, four and a half years into this game, you wouldn't think that would suprise me, but it did. Maybe just because I wasn't thinking about the small inconveniences so much as the big ones, like no baths, no jeans, and an added 8 pounds to deal with.
Surprise number two came once we walked in the doors. Every person, yes EVERY person we passed couldn't help but gape at Thomas. I admit, it might seem a bit odd for a four year old to be wearing two casts. But couple that with his special needs stroller, which looks like a wheelchair without the big rear wheels, and you'd think people would be able to put two and two together. Not in hickville USA, and probably not anywhere else for that matter. The stares I got, or should I say glares, the whispers, the not-so-subtle glances at Thomas and then at me, were more than I could bare. I grabbed my last needed item and hightailed it to the checkout, out the door, and to my van, where I promptly fell to pieces.
What was I thinking? That I could possibly go to the store for once, just once, without one rude comment or one pointed stare? I can't get that on a normal day, what made me think I could get that on the day Thomas had two casts placed on his legs?
What was I thinking? I don't know. But I'll tell you what I thought when I got home. It's time to order some custom t-shirts. I want one to say "Yes, my mom broke them. Keep staring, you're next!" And maybe "I know I'm cute, but you don't have to stare." Or should I go right to the point "It's not polite to stare"? To be honest I didn't order any of them, but wouldn't it be great if I did?
Almost Four
I wrote this back in January of '07 and for some reason have saved it all this time:
I'm feeling a bit nostalgic today, as I put my guy on the bus to go to school this morning realizing that in just four weeks my sweet little baby boy will be four! I cannot believe it. After his rough start I was convinced my little man wouldn't make it past his first birthday. Obviously he did, and has continued to grow and surprise me every chance he gets.
Can this big boy, this 35 pound kid who is already more than half my height, be the same boy who came into this world just over eight weeks early, weighing only 4 pounds 1 ounce and just 17.5 inches long? It can and it is and I am so happy and proud to be able to call him mine!
Someone once said to me in a fit of rage that I "deserved what I got" as far as Thomas was concerned. I couldn't agree more. In fact I am not sure I am even worthy or deserving of this sweet boy who has taught me so many lessons in his short life. He is truly my miracle boy, and I would be lost without him in my life. I can't even remember life before him, and look forward to what he's got to show me next.
I'm feeling a bit nostalgic today, as I put my guy on the bus to go to school this morning realizing that in just four weeks my sweet little baby boy will be four! I cannot believe it. After his rough start I was convinced my little man wouldn't make it past his first birthday. Obviously he did, and has continued to grow and surprise me every chance he gets.
Can this big boy, this 35 pound kid who is already more than half my height, be the same boy who came into this world just over eight weeks early, weighing only 4 pounds 1 ounce and just 17.5 inches long? It can and it is and I am so happy and proud to be able to call him mine!
Someone once said to me in a fit of rage that I "deserved what I got" as far as Thomas was concerned. I couldn't agree more. In fact I am not sure I am even worthy or deserving of this sweet boy who has taught me so many lessons in his short life. He is truly my miracle boy, and I would be lost without him in my life. I can't even remember life before him, and look forward to what he's got to show me next.
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