Four Words

There are so many things I'd like to see him do. 

• Play with his brother.
• Eat a banana.
• Wave bye bye.
• Really, truly hug me.
• Play correctly with numerous toys.

The list could go on and on.  But those things, all of those things, I'd forfeit in a heartbeat for just four words. 

I've heard them from Owen countless times.  I know what they sound like.  But I don't know what they sound like from him.  I long to hear his sweet voice whisper them to me.  I picture the smile on his face as he would say them. 

Four words. 

I know he says them to me in his own way.  The times he crawls up in my lap and wants me to read him a book.  The times that only I can comfort him like no one else can.  The way he always checks to make sure I'm at therapy, to be sure that I haven't left him there.  I know he's saying them.

Four words.

I know that compared to that list that is seemingly a mile long, four words seems so minuscule.  But still, I lie awake at night, dreaming of what they might sound like coming from his sweet lips.  I think about the first time I might hear him say them.  Where will we be?  How old will he be?

Four words.

I love you, Mommy.

I hope and pray with everything I have that I hear them...someday.

Doing My Part

Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about things that matter.
         -Martin Luther King, Jr.

I saw this quote the other day and it really got me thinking.  In the last year, I have done a lot of contemplation.  I have always said that I was never cut out to be the mother of a child with special needs, even before I had one.  I'll never forget the moment it started to sink in with me that Cameron had bigger things going on than just an unwillingness to do things according to a doctor's timeline.  I had a complete breakdown.  Cody was with me and all I could keep telling him was that I couldn't do it.  I didn't have the strength to do it.

After months of contemplation and soul searching, I realized a few things.  The first one was that I didn't have a choice as to whether I wanted to "do this."  When I chose to bring my children into the world, I made a committment to be there for them, no matter the circumstance.  So, I pulled myself together and started showing up for Cameron, because it was my job.  In doing that, I was able to see him in a whole new light.  I started to see that my reluctance to accept his autism meant that I didn't accept him.  As parents, it is our job to love every part of our children, even the most difficult parts.  I never want my children to feel like I don't love them for exactly who they are.  And autism is who Cameron is.  It is, of course, not all that he is, but it is a big part of him.  And it is a part that I love wholeheartedly.

In the midst of all this soul searching, I also came to realize that I can do this.  And as much as I thought I was never cut out to be a special needs mom, I now see that it's exactly what I was meant to be.  I've reached an entirely new level of patience and understanding in the last year.  And that's all because of Cameron.  He has taught me so much in his short life.  So much more than I will ever teach him.  If there is ever a time that I am frustrated with him or stressed out over a situation, I just remind myself that as difficult as it is for me, it is 10 times more difficult for him.

I've also realized that as his mother, it is my job to be his voice for him.  It's my job to help the world see and accept him for the wonderful little boy that he is.  I've always said that I never wanted this to become an "autism blog."  I want it to continue to be a blog about our family's journey.  But, our journey includes autism.  So, in light of April being Autism Awareness month, I want to do a number of posts about Cameron and our everyday life with him.  I want to open the door to life with autism and show people what it's really like, even if it's just here on my little blog.  This is not in order to gain pity in any way, but to raise awareness.  I mean, let's face it, autism is growing in epidemic proportions.  There's a good chance that Cameron isn't the only child you know or will meet with autism.  I am always amazed when I tell different people about certain things that Cameron does and they are completely surprised.  They generally have no idea what autism entails.  And if those of us who live it everyday don't share our story, how can we expect anyone to understand what we go through?  So, I'm doing my part and refusing to be silent, because autism matters.  Cameron, and the million others like him, matter.  And it's my job to show you why.

Back By Popular Demand

Ok, so maybe not "popular" demand.  More like, I saw the sad look my dear mother-in-law gave me when she expressed how upset she was that I was no longer posting photos of her grandchildren and she missed it so much.  That, coupled with the fact that I really have missed blogging and I do want to continue to document our family's journey, has brought me back to this old blog.  I was gone so long dust was starting to collect around here!

I can't really give a specific reason as to why I haven't been blogging.  I think I just got caught up in the chaos that is life and just stopped doing it.  Having two young children, especially one with special needs, maintaining a home, and being able to find time to fit everything else in that I want to do has been a bit of a challenge for me in the last year.  Time management is not one of my strong suits.  But I'm hoping to make a concerted effort to add some weekly blogging into my busy schedule.

Before we get to that, I'll give you the Reader's Digest version of what we've all been up to lately.

Cody has been working hard at work.  He's also been trying to finish up some of those 95% projects around the house. You know, the ones that get about 95% done and then you move on to something else without ever finishing it for whatever reason.  He's gotten back into his running schedule after taking a bit of a break at the end of last year due to an injury and lack of time.  He's hoping to run a couple of 5k's this year so he's very excited about that!

I've been keeping busy shuttling the kids to and from their various appointments and activities.  I'm a PTA member, which I actually really enjoy.  I think my biggest chunks of free time these days are spent baking and decorating sugar cookies and cakes.  I've always loved it (as I'm sure most of you know) but I've taken it to a whole new level in the last year.  The cookies are becoming a strong favorite over cakes so I've been doing a lot with those.  I make them for friends, the kids' birthdays, holidays, and for Owen's class whenever they have a party.  It's time consuming but I love it!

Owen is having a blast in Kindergarten.  He's adjusted well to the change and is really enjoying it to the fullest extent.  Last fall he started Tae Kwon Do and he loves it.  He's in Tiny Tigers, which is for kids aged 4-6.  His friend, Ben (my good friend, Chrissy's son) is in it with him, along with a boy from his class.  He's tested twice since he started and moved up to Tiny Tiger Yellow Belt.  He's also gearing up to start Tee Ball for the first time this Spring.  We're apprehensive about how that will go since he's never really enjoyed team sports all that much but we're hopeful that he'll have fun with it.

Cameron now has a very full therapy schedule.  We are driving to Des Moines to Child Serve, a therapy center made just for kids, 3 days a week now.  He gets speech and occupational therapy at the same time, 45 minutes each time.  We're also going to be adding a feeding therapy session there soon to help with his limited diet, which is due largely in part to his sensory defensiveness.  We have really discovered in the last year just how complex his disorder is and how everyday is such a struggle for him.  But he is progressing everyday!  He's also receiving therapy at home through a great place called The Homestead.  They do ABA (Applied Behavior Analysis) therapy, which is an essential part of autism therapy.  It is intense, but if done correctly can really produce some awesome results.  They are coming to the house 4 days a week for 2 1/2 hours each time.  It's been an adjustment for him but he's doing well so far.  He LOVES the water so we are expecting to log a lot of hours at the pool this summer!

So that's us in a nutshell.  We just had Owen's birthday party this past weekend so I'll be sharing photos of that soon!  I can't believe my baby is turning SIX tomorrow!  Where does the time go?

Brothers

When I was pregnant with Cameron, I remember the anticipation of finding out whether we were having a boy or a girl.  Anyone who knows me knows that I want a daughter so badly, but I am being completely honest when I say that with Cameron, I really hoped for a boy.  Obviously, I would have been happy with a girl but the idea of two boys started to grow on me before we ever even knew he was a boy.  I thought about how much fun it would be for Owen to have a brother.  I envisioned the two of them running through the house together, wrestling, playing with trains.  I could see a sweet little boy, toddling behind his big brother and trying to do everything he was doing, even though he would be too small to do it.  I saw Owen helping and protecting his little brother, just like big brothers are meant to do.  I heard them arguing.  I heard them laughing.  I saw this:

While it's just a snapshot in time, I think you can pretty much see a lot of that in this photo.  You probably see two brothers having fun, laughing and being silly together.  Just like the two brothers I saw before they were even two brothers.  What you don't know about this photo, what you can't see because it is, indeed, just a snapshot in time, is that they weren't really wrestling or playing together.  In fact, the little brother smiling so sweetly in this photo probably wasn't paying too much attention to the older brother.  The older brother wasn't wrestling with him, but more hanging on him, trying to somehow get into his world and get him to interact with him.  There are smiles, yes.  The big brother always smiles when trying to hug on the little brother.  But that's not why the little brother is smiling.  He's probably smiling because I asked him what a monkey says and he thinks that's funny.  Or he could have been smiling for reasons completely unknown to the rest of us there.  And while I don't remember for certain, it is a pretty safe bet that as soon as this photo was taken, the little brother promptly pushed the big brother away from him and they both went about their business, playing very differently in their own worlds. 

This is not to say that this wasn't a fun moment for our family.  Quite the opposite, actually.  It was a very pleasant evening where we all enjoyed ourselves and I still look at this photo and think it is adorable.  It's just not exactly what I envisioned 3 years ago when I heard the words, "It's a boy."  And that has been one of the biggest hurdles for me since Cameron's diagnosis; something I struggle with daily.  To let go of what should have been and accept what is.  And more important than just accepting it, finding happiness in it.

Monday night we went to our first PTA meeting.  They provided pizza and free child care so we figured we would give it a go and see how Cameron would do.  If he couldn't adapt, Cody would just take him outside and wait until the meeting was over.  Cody took him to the child care room and talked to the young girl about Cameron.  He gave her his cell phone number just in case Cameron didn't do well and then came back to the meeting.  After about 15 or 20 minutes, he went to peek in the room and see how things were going.  The young girl gave him a thumbs up through the window.  But then, Owen somehow saw Cody through the window and yelled, "Daddy!!!  Cameron doesn't like it in here!"  Cody went in to see what was up and Owen proceeded to tell him that Cameron kept taking him by the hand and leading him to the door in an effort to "tell" him that he wanted to leave.  In a room of about 10 kids and a couple of babysitters, Cameron knew there was one person in that room he should go to.  He knew he belonged to Owen and that Owen belonged to him.  Even though there are so many days where it seems like Cameron doesn't see him.  Where it seems like Owen is just another thing in the room to him.  The little brother went to the big brother for help.  And the big brother, always the protector, knew that he had to yell for Daddy to help his little brother.

Maybe what is isn't so far from what should have been after all...

First Day of Kindergarten!

Alternately Titled:  The Day Mommy Was a Blubbering Mess

Last night, Owen set his alarm clock for 7am.  This morning, I opened my eyes at 7:01am to find a cute 5-year-old at my bedside saying, "Mommy!  We don't want to be late!!!"  And thus began our foray into the school-age years.

After a quick breakfast and a change of clothes, we made our way outside to snap a few photos before it was time to leave.

With a thumbs up from our boy, we piled into our car with our neighbor friend, Harlee, and made our way the long 2 blocks to good 'ol TJ.  (We don't walk because it's along a busy road with no sidewalk and I can't handle 2 kids and a stroller by myself!)

The two buddies posed for a photo together before heading to their classrooms.  We found out Tuesday night that they purposely separated them because they were so attached to each other at Kindergarten Round-Up.  We thought that was a little unnecessary, but I digress.

Owen and I dropped Harlee with her teacher and then made our way to his classroom, where I had to snap a few more photos.

I then proceeded to stand at the doorway like a complete idiot saying, "Bye, Owen!  I love you!" more times than is necessary when telling your child goodbye.  I could not walk out that door.  At some point my sanity returned and somehow my legs carried me out.  I then resisted every temptation to drive by the school at recess like a crazy stalker checking to see how he was doing.

Six months ago I told myself that I was ready for this day. I yearned for a little peace and quiet in my day and was excited about the next stage in Owen's life. But as the calendar approached August 25th, I started looking for that magical button that would instantly halt time. While I am still really excited for him to begin this new stage, there is still a large part of me that just isn't ready for it. I'll miss our late mornings, snuggling in bed together, our afternoon grocery shopping trips, our jammy days, the list could go on forever. I think what makes this transition so difficult for mothers, whether you're a stay-at-home mom or a 9-5 mom, is that it is essentially the end of the baby years. It's the beginning of them no longer having enough time to hug you or not thinking you are the funniest person in the world when you make those silly faces. Before you know it, "Mommy" gives way to "Mom" and hugs and kisses in public are no longer acceptable.

But I'm trying focus on the positive things ahead. The field trips I'll get to chaperon, the cookies (!!!) I'll get to make for class parties, the spring sings, and the lasting friendships ahead. I did, afterall, meet my 2 best friends when I was 8 and 12 and still talk to each of them at least once a week (although usually 3 or more!) and my children call them "Auntie." So maybe the school years aren't so bad.

As we pulled into the garage today, Owen said excitedly, "I can't wait to go back to Kindergarten tomorrow!!!"  That makes the tears totally worth it.

The Autism Roller Coaster

Well, we are almost 4 months to the day from Cameron's diagnosis.  The last 4 months have been such a roller coaster for me.  I can go from acceptance, to denial, to peaceful, to upset and depressed about all of this all in the same day.  I keep telling myself that he is alive and well and that is the most important part.  All the other stuff we can work with.  But then I see a child who is about his age bouncing around, talking, and interacting, and I can't help but go to the "if onlys" and "what ifs."

We are still doing therapy through Early Access.  Two women come twice a month to work with him.  It's very slow-going because he is very reluctant to do what you ask him to.  We also have a wonderful speech therapist who comes once a month.  Unfortunately, though, that is nowhere near enough.  So we have been working on getting him approved for a waiver through the state, which will help cover the cost for a lot more therapy.  He has occupational therapy and speech therapy evaluations at a place called Child Serve in early August.  I am really excited about that because this is a place that treats only children, so they are well-versed in kids with developmental disabilities.  We are also working toward getting him accepted into a program with The Homestead, where he would receive ABA (Applied Behavior Analysis) Therapy.  The Homestead offers both in-home therapy and on-site therapy.  We are just in the early stages of the application process so we are unsure as to which type we will end up going with.

I am just ready to get the ball rolling on all of this and see some results but, I must admit, the process is very difficult for me.  It is hard to be reminded everyday of the differences in your child and I am really struggling with it.  I have been practicing a lot of avoidance lately, which is partly to blame for the slow-moving wheels.  A future of unknowns is so difficult for me to face.  And teaching your child things that are supposed to come naturally to us as we grow is so frustrating, not only for me but for him as well.  It is all definitely a learning process as new sypmtoms emerge and we navigate these waters, which are oftentimes rough.

Two nights ago, Cameron woke up around 2 in the morning because he was having a difficult time breathing due to a cold.  He was screaming and crying and nothing we did would calm him.  We tried all of the normal tricks that usually help, but that night it just wasn't working.  After he screamed non-stop for nearly an hour, I decided I was just going to have to put him back in his crib and let him cry it out.  I turned to look at him as I walked out of his room and saw him put his belly over the crib rail and flip himself out of the crib.  He landed head first on the carpet, which resulted in more crying on both our parts.  I just stood there crying, praying for the strength to know what to do.

Cody came in to check on us because he heard it all on the monitor.  He tried to take Cam from me because I was crying but Cameron held on so tightly to me that Cody couldn't take him.  So I sat down in the rocker with him and we cried there together.  As I rocked him in my arms like I did when he was a baby, he fell asleep, clinging to me.  In that instance, my tears turned into happy tears.  He needed me.  Sometimes it feels as though I am just a vessle to getting him what he wants.  Like anyone else could do it for him as long as they do it correctly.  But that night I realized that not only does he know his mama, he wants me, too.  And he didn't want me to get him food or milk or turn on a movie for him.  He wanted me because he was scared.  He needed to be comforted and he needed it to be done by me.  And that felt pretty darn good.

It was also in that instance that I realized that not only does he need me to comfort him, but he also needs me to go to bat for him.  Cody and I are the two people he has in this world to count on to fight for him.  And that's exactly what we're going to do.  I just continue to pray everyday that God grants me the strength to do it.

Back in Business!

Hello, to The Five People Who Still Check This Blog!  Many people have been asking me if I'm done with the blogging world.  After such a long absence, I started to wonder myself.  I love blogging and the release it gives me.  It's almost therapuetic for me.  I also love the fact that I can record our life easily, as I'm not all that great in the journaling and scrapbooking departments.  However, lately, I just haven't felt the motiviation to do it.  I think it's a combination of a lot of things, really.  I've been trying to get things squared away with getting services for Cameron (more on that later), I've beeing working on Walk stuff (more on that, too!), and basically I've just had so much going on that I'm still trying to figure out how to balance it all.  I'm not really sure God knew what He was doing when he gave me a special needs child because I am horrible with time management!

I think another reason I haven't blogged is that, as I said before, I often use this blog as my release.  If I write it down, get it all out, I feel better about it.  I've been working through a lot of feelings since Cameron was diagnosed and I've written countless blog posts about it in my my head.  But then I never sit down and actually pound it out because I don't want this to become The Autism Blog.  Autism is a part of our life, but I can't let it consume us.  I still want this to be the place where we share about what's going on in our family.  And yes, that will obviously include stories of autism but I want to be sure I'm sharing other things as well.

So, since I'm already doing so much balancing in life, I decided that trying to balance the blog on top of it was just too much.  So I took a break!  But now I'm back and ready to share all the good, bad, and ugly with you again!  First up will be photos and info from our first Walk Now for Autism Speaks and then we'll take a little trip back and recap the couple of months I was away.  So for the few of you who are left, I hope you'll stick with us.  I think the next year for the Muhses is going to be an awesome one and I can't wait to share it all!

The Details

Well, if you know me well, you know I can't tell a story without all the details.  So hunker down for a long one, folks.

On Tuesday, March 30th, Cody and I traveled to Iowa City with Cameron in tow.  Owen stayed behind with Grandma Debbie, who came up during her Spring Break to help us.  We went to the Center for Disabilities and Development where Cameron was evaluated by a Psychologist, Speech Therapist, and a Developmental Pediatrican.  It was a long day as we were there from 9:45am til 4pm.  We went in there expecting an Autism diagnosis, so we felt that we were pretty well prepared for whatever they might throw at us.  We were wrong.

After examining Cameron and consulting with us for about 2 hours, the Psychologist told us that she had 2 diagnoses and neither of them were very good.  The first one was what we expected:  Autism.  But the second one...well, we just weren't at all prepared to hear it:  possible mental retardation.  Now, before I go any further I must say that I hate that term.  Therefore, from here on out you will hear me refer to it as many are now referring to it:  Intellectual Disability, or ID.  I was fully prepared to walk in there, get our autism diagnosis, be told what to do next, go out and do it, and recover my child from this monstrous disorder.  When I heard those words, my heart sank.  My hopes sank.  I had been reading about so many success stories of children who had been diagnosed so early that they were able to intervene and recover them.  Many show no signs of austism anymore, some are so high functioning on the spectrum that only they and their parents know they even have autism.  This is what I hoped would be our case.  This is what I'd prayed for in the last few months.  And now two words seemed to make it all come crashing down.

After we heard her diagnosis, we were sent off to lunch and told to come back at 1pm to meet with doctors.  We both walked out of there in a daze.  You could have knocked us over with feathers.  I cried as we pulled into the Hardees parking lot.  We went through all the motions of getting in, getting our food, and sitting down, both of us still stunned at what we'd just been told.  I couldn't talk about it very much due to the fact that Crying in the Middle of a Hardees was just not at the top of my Things I Must Experience Before I Die list.  But there was one thing we were both able to say, "How does a child who could recognize and name every letter of the alphabet and count to ten before he was 2 qualify as ID?"  It just didn't compute.

The second half of the day had us in more small rooms, waiting for more people to look at our child.  I kept thinking, "What more are they going to tell us?  What more could they have to say?"  We saw the speech therapist, who confirmed what the psychologist said.  Then he was weighed, had his blood pressure and temperature taken, his head measured, all while he screamed because he was tired of being there.  I wanted to scream right along with him. 

The last person we saw was the pediatrician.  We gave her an entire run-down of Cameron's health history from birth to now, all while Cameron ran around the room in nothing but his shirt and diaper.  By this point in the day, we could hardly see 2 feet in front of us, so it was difficult to absorb everything she was saying, as well as know what quesitons we should ask.  We did, however, ask the question on both of our minds at lunch.  The doctor explained to us that they are only seeing a snap-shot in time of Cameron.  Their diagnosis only takes into account what Cameron did at that particular time on that particular day.  They aren't looking at what he could do 6 months ago.  She explained that his autism might be clouding his ability to do many things, therefore it may seem like he has ID, but in fact he doesn't.  She also uttered the words that I have clung to since I walked out of that office, "Due to the fact that he was doing so many things as little as 4 months ago, I have very high hopes that with a year of intense therapy, he will get back everything he's lost."  He will get back everything he's lost.  I play these words over in my head at night when my thoughts take me to a future of unknowns, or during the day when I ask him to do something he once did with ease and now can no longer do, or when I see Owen trying so desperately to have some sort of meaningful interaction with his brother.  I cling to them as if they were worth millions of dollars.  I want so badly for him to be able to tell me again what sound a cat makes.  I'm mad at myself for not getting it on video when he was doing it because I'm afraid I might never hear it again.  I'm mad that these are now the things I'm wishing for.

But don't get me wrong.  While Tuesday was one of the hardest days of my life, as were the few days that followed it, I don't spend my entire day wallowing in self-pity.  (I usually reserve just a small portion of the day for that.)  I told myself on the 2nd day of feeling sorry for myself and for Cameron and the cards we've been dealt, that I can't concentrate on possibly having to take care of my adult son in 30 years.  I have to concentrate on taking care of my 2-year-old son now.  I have to remember the high hopes the doctor had for him and I have to keep my hopes up, too.  And if I can do that, I can make it through a day and things are ok.

So that's where we are right now.  I'm just trying to get through every day, just like any other Mom.  The last few days have been spent enjoying my kids, making lots of phone calls to figure out where we go from here, and trying to work in a little therapy with Cam.  I keep telling myself that he's still the exact same kid he was last week before we ever heard any of these words that were so difficult to hear.  He still smiles at me.  He still laughs, still gives me kisses, still runs to his Daddy when Daddy puts his arms out for him.  He's still our Cameron.  And he's pretty freakin' great.

Before I close, I'd just like to say thank you.  I've received countless phone messages, text messages, emails, and cards.  Messages telling me you're thinking of me, what a great Mother you think I am, what a great kid you think Cameron is, that you're praying for all of us, or even some who want to take our children and give us an evening out.  ALL of them are appreciated more than I could ever express.  Though I'm trying my best, they are coming in faster than I can respond to all of them!  So if you've called or written and haven't heard back from me, I promise I will get back to you soon! 

There really is so much more I could say but I'll save it all for another day.  For now, I'll just say stay tuned.  I know Cameron is going to amaze us all!

Motherly Instincts

I still don't know what it is about being a mother that suddenly makes so many women so instinctual.  I guess carrying someone with you and having them grow inside you for 9 months gives you a certain insignt into a person.  Not to say that Dads don't know their children well.  But there's just something about that bond between mother and child.  I've always seemed to have this with all of my children, on both a small and large scale.  I can look at Owen and tell you when he's about to be sick.  As strange as it sounds, when we lost our second baby, I knew that something was wrong the night before.  I never said anything because I knew Cody would think I was crazy.  I even told the doctor when he told me there was no heartbeat that I wasn't all that shocked because I felt like something was wrong.  And when I when I went to my appointment shortly before Cameron was born, I told the doctor that I knew Cam was coming early.  He even commented after Cameron was born that he listens to those Motherly Instincts all the time because, as odd as it sounds, so many mothers are right.

Even though I've experienced it with all of my children, my instincts with Cameron seem to be very strong.  I'm not sure why.  Maybe it's because he has had so many issues in his short little life that I feel it's especially important for him to have an advocate.  It's almost like my instincts are on overdrive so I don't miss any important signs or signals with him.  For the better part of 6 months, those instincts have screamed at me that he is on the autism spectrum.  I can't say that I was necessarily ignoring my feelings, but I hoped like hell I was wrong.  As we went through therapies with Early Intervention, I clung to the hope that he would start to catch up.    Seven months later, he hasn't caught up.  Yes, he has come a long way and he has learned so many things.  But there are still so many things missing.

We went to the doctor for his 2 year well-check yesterday and shared our concerns with her.  She decided that it's time we head to Iowa City to the Child Development Center for an autism evaluation.  She could sense our frustration in what to do next, which is why she thought we should just go there and let the experts help us decide what our next course of action should be.  I asked if her she thought we were dealing with autism and she said she couldn't say for certain but that she was pretty sure he is on the spectrum.  But she did say that she has kids that they caught it this early who are now older and you would never know they are on the spectrum.  She said he does have a lot of red flags but that he also still has a lot of good points, too.

I called this morning to get his appointment.  The earliest they could see him is March 30th.  I'm not all that happy that we have to wait that long but I've heard stories of people waiting a year to get into a Developmental Pediatrician so I figure a couple of months isn't so bad.  The evaluation will be a team effort with a Psychologist, Speech Pathologist, and a Developmental Pediatrician observing him.  It takes 4 hours but thankfully we will start at 10am, go for 2 hours, give him a break for lunch, and then finish up the last 2 hours.  Grandma Debbie is on Spring Break that week, so she has offered to come up and stay with Owen that day so that Cody and I can go together.  Iowa City is about an hour from here, so it will be a full day for all of us.

I'm still working on what we're going to do until then.  His behavior has already changed from just a month ago and I'm afraid if we wait around another 2 months til the evaluation, he will be even worse.  So much research shows that the earlier the better with these kids.  So I think I'm going to call our case worker with EI and see what she suggests.

Please pray for us that we get the answers and direction that our little guy needs in order to achieve anything and everything he wants to in life.

And yet another change...

The past few weeks have brought even more changes with Cameron's therapies. You might remember when I detailed the different things his therapists suggested we do to help further his speech.  I thought long and hard about their suggestions and Cody and I discussed them at length.  We came to the conclusion that we were going to take some of their ideas and put them to use, while foregoing the ones we didn't think were a good fit for Cameron. 

Then his intervention teacher came for a visit.  I won't bore you with all the details, but she basically did a few things that I did not agree with at all.  I was frustrated with her the entire visit, but the straw that broke the camel's back happened when we were dicussing whether Cameron is on the autism spectrum and she went as far as tellling me that Owen is probably on the spectrum.  Owen, my bubbly, outgoing, 4-year-old whom she is not even here to evaluate and has spent only a handful of moments with.  Why does she think this?  Because he can read and he can be very particular about certain things.  It was at that point that I decided I didn't want her treating my child anymore.

It's not that I don't think there's a possiblity that Cameron could be on the autism spectrum, because I have thought that for the last 6+ months.  It was the fact that she said in the same breath that she is not even qualified to make a diagnosis like that about Cameron.  If she is not even supposed to make such assumptions about Cameron, she really shouldn't be making them about Owen.  Even though I don't think Owen is, if he were, it was most definitely not her place to say that.  So I started to feel like, if she's saying things like this about Owen, why should I believe what she says about Cameron?  Why should I believe that she knows what she's talking about?  Not to mention the fact that Cameron really doesn't like her.  She doesn't relate to him well and the last few times she was here it was basically the two of us talking because Cameron didn't want to be around her.

I also felt that she kept changing each week what our goals for Cameron were.  She would work on something for a couple of weeks, then decided it wasn't right and we needed to change it again.  How is he supposed to reach a specified goal when she keeps changing the therapy on him?

So we decided it would be best for Cameron to just take a break for a while.  We have cancelled all  visits with the intervention teacher as well as the speech therapist.  We will continue to work with him at home and re-evaluate things sometime early next year and see where we go from there.  Part of me feels like it's just going to be a time issue for Cameron.  He's proven time and time again that he will get there, he's just going to do it on his time schedule.  I've spoken at length about this with Cody's mom and she says that Cody was exactly the same way at this age.  She sees so many similarities between Cameron and Cody.

Of course, there is another part of me that worries everyday that we've made the wrong decision in pulling him out of therapy.  But I try to remember that there really is no right or wrong answer in this.  It's really what is best for Cameron at any given time.  And at this time, we think this is best for him.  Maybe in a month or two, it won't be the best thing and we will get back into therapy.  Or maybe we'll even try private therapists.  I don't know what the future holds, but right now I'm just trying to focus on the present.  And right now, all I know is that I have the cutest little almost-2-year-old I know who is happy, healthy, and makes me smile everyday.  I don't really think life can get much better than that.


*I promise to get more pictures up soon!  We are just having a crazy, fun-filled holiday season in the Muhs household and my blogging has taken a back seat!  Merry Christmas!

No one ever said it was going to be easy...

Cameron had his scheduled monthly visit with his speech therapist yesterday.  The last time she was here we worked with Cameron during his snack time.  The goal was to have him ask for the snack using a word or gesture before he was allowed to eat it.  He would get one piece of the food (Goldfish crackers at the time) each time he asked for it.  If he didn't ask for it, he didn't get it.  He did it sometimes, but by the end of it he was just mad that there was food within his reach that he was not being allowed to eat.  I was given the task of continuing to work on this with him throughout the rest of the month.

At some point in the month, Cameron started saying "cracker."  He would come up to me, say "cracker," and we would go to the pantry together and get a cracker.  I was ecstatic because not only was he using a word to communicate a want to me, but we were able to do it without him sitting in the high chair and screaming because he was hungry and I wasn't giving him what he wanted.  The therapist quickly burst my happy bubble when she told me that she still wanted to see him sitting in the high chair at a time designated for snack at some point throughout the day.  And here I thought we were getting somewhere.

She went on to tell me that she thought Cameron has too many things at his disposal throughout the day and that he is not using his words because no one is really requiring him to do so.  Her remedy for this?  Remove ALL the toys from our living room.  Yes, you read that correctly.  Not only does she want me to remove the toys, she wants me to get 2 clear plastic bins.  Throughout the day when Cameron wants a toy, one toy will go in each bin.  The bins will sit out of his reach and he will have to make a choice as to which toy he wants by either saying a word or pointing to the toy.  He will get the toy, play with it, then put it back in the bin when he is done.  Then we do it with two more toys.

In addition to this, she feels it would be best to put Cameron on a schedule.  She is making laminated cards that will have different tasks on them that will stick onto the schedule.  When he/we complete(s) a task, we take the card off the schedule.  This would include things like getting dressed, eating meals, going "bye bye," playing, bath time, and bed time.  The purpose, as I understand it, is that a schedule will require him to communicate more.  He will be offered choices throughout his scheduled day like, "Do you want to wear the blue shirt or the red shirt?" "Do you want to read this book or that book?"  The schedule is just a way of presenting him with different options and requiring him to choose between them.

While I absolutely see where she's coming from, I have to admit that this is stressing me out a little.  I have been playing it out in my head, trying to think of where in the world I can store all of these toys in our house so that they are still easily accessible to me, but not to Cameron.  I am trying to figure out where the plastic bins will sit so that they are out of his reach but still able to be seen clearly by him.  I am picturing early mornings when I am trying to get myself and 2 children out the door by 8am so that we can pick up another child and head off to pre-school.  The last thing I want to do on those mornings is wait for a not-yet-2-year-old to tell me which freaking shirt he'd like to wear.  At 7:30 in the morning, I don't care what shirt he wants to wear.  I just want him to get the shirt on!

Not to mention the fact that this is going to be a total shock to Cameron.  How do you explain to a not-quite-2-year-old that he now has to ask for his toys and will now be required to follow a schedule?  The answer:  you don't.  You basically have to suffer through it for a few weeks teaching him that things are now different and he is going to have to accept it and eventually adapt.  So goes the life of a parent, I suppose.

I want to do what is best for Cameron but I'm still trying to work all this out in my head and decide if this really is what's best for him.  I worry that putting him on a schedule will eventually make him dependent on a schedule.  Yes, he is on somewhat of a schedule now as far as when he eats and sleeps and even with that, if you deviate too far from it, he doesn't accept it very well.  I don't want to feed into that and make him even less adaptable.

Well, I've done what my husband hates most and given you a post full of my babble and lacking in what you all really come here to see.  And I've done it two posts in a row!  I guess he'll just have to start his own blog! ;)  Seriously though, I just like to post a Cam update every now and again so that I can look back years from now and remember everything we've gone through.  So if you've made it this far, thanks for sticking around.  You'll soon be rewarded with some cute photos!

To vaccinate or not to vaccinate? That is the question!

No one hates a sick infant/toddler/preschooler more than I do.  Especially when the media is scaring everyone so much.  But I'm still so hesitant to vaccinate my kids against both the regular seasonal flu, as well as the H1N1.  I know I vaccinated both of them last year but I'm just not sure I want to this year.  I keep hearing so many convincing arguments on either side of the spectrum and it's just making it harder to decide what to do.  I know that they have removed Thimerasol from most of them and those that still have it, it is supposedly a trace amount.  But from things I've read, Thimerasol is not the only concern here.  There are many other additives that I'm just not sure I want to be pumping into my small children.

I am not trying to say that I don't think vaccines are necessary.  I really believe that they have helped eradicate many deadly childhood diseases.  However, when does it become too much?  I worry that if we keep vaccinating for every disease, we are not allowing our bodies to build up proper immunities to things.  I also worry that we are just putting too many things into the tiny little bodies of these kids at one time.  My boys are current on all their required vaccinations, even though I am still not 100% confident with the decision I made to do so.  I still worry that they will be affected by all the vaccines they've had at such a young age at some point in their lives. 

My purpose for this post, though, is not necessarily to discuss the pros/cons of all vaccines, but more to discuss the pros/cons of the flu vaccines.  As I said before, I've heard convincing arguments from both sides of the spectrum.  My problem is that I just don't know who to believe!  I can read something against the vaccines on the internet and immediately tell myself that there is no way that I will allow my children to be vaccinated.  Then I talk to our pediatrician or to another person whom I feel is well-educated and I respect, and I am convinced that they should get the vaccine.  While I have talked to our pediatrician about the seasonal flu vaccine in the past, I've not brought my concerns up to her this season because I'm still waiting to here what the American Academy of Pediatrics has to say about it all.  Given my past discussions with her though, I have a feeling that she will say it is safe for them to take, though she won't push me to do so.  I still respect her and think she is a very good doctor for us, so I'm not intersted in changing.  In fact, why would I think that I should change doctors?  For all I know, she could be completely correct in her belief that the vaccines are safe for them.  Which brings me back to my whole point, how do I know who is right? 

I realize none of you are doctors, but I do know that many of you are parents with the same concerns I have.  So I'm curious, what will you be doing this season?  Will you be getting both flu vaccines?  Will you be give them both to your child(ren)?  Why or why not?  I'm asking you to weigh in on this issue for me!  Even if you've never commented here before or you think I already know where you stand or you're not a parent of a small child, weigh in!  I'm very interested to see what everyone thinks about this and your comments might help someone else who is struggling with this decision as much as I am!

We Welcome with Love...

Logan Jay Youngman

born August 5, 2009

7 lbs., 4 oz.

19.5 in. long

Logan is the firstborn of my cousin Matt and his wife, Jessica, whom we lovingly call Uncle Matt and Aunt Jess in our house. Someday the entire family will tell him how much we all wanted him for his mommy and daddy and how excited we all were when they announced they were pregnant with him. And someday, when he's a teenager and driving his mother crazy, she will remind him of how she suffered through 30 hours of labor and, finally, a c-section in order to bring him into this world. Is she a rock star or what?! But for now, we'll just cuddle him and love on him because he's just so darn cute!


Owen is beyond excited to have another new cousin and is anxiously awaiting to meet him. He asks me everyday when that day will happen. If I weren't so damn anxious myself, I might be annoyed with him.

Congrats to Matt and Jess who, before they were ever even parents, proved what rockin' parents they would be. I never thought I'd live to see the day that my big, manly cousin would call me talking to me about breast pumps, breast shields, and nursing holds. And yes, he knew all the correct terminology. Because he's just that awesome of a Daddy.

Logan, though we've yet to meet you, we love you so much and look forward to the day that we can snuggle and kiss you! And Owen can't wait to read to you!

Where in the world are the Muhses?!

I know, I know, I've been a little MIA for the last few weeks. Where have I been? Basically just enjoying the summer with my boys! We've had visitors, gone to the pool a few times, visited some parks, done some geocaching (Cody and Owen's new favorite thing to do together), played outside, made over a few rooms in the house (complete with wood-working and painting projects for Cody and I respectively), had a few appointments for Cameron, and Cody and I each even got to have a weekend with our friends! Add on the normal day-to-day upkeep of the house and parenting in general and you have a summer packed to the brim! I have had such good intentions after we get the boys to bed each night to head down and punch out a few good blog posts. I've even written them in my head numerous times. But exhaustion always gets the best of me and I end up in a daze on the couch watching a bit of TV, then heading to bed so I can wake up and do it all over again the next day.

But I'm getting the blog itch again, so I'm going to work hard this week to start documenting all this great fun we've been having. I have discovered that not only is this blog a great way to share our lives with our family and friends (aka The Twelve People Who Still Read This Blog) but it has also turned into sort of a personal/family journal for me. I love looking back at all the old posts and seeing things I almost forgot that we did! I'm even planning to print it all out in a book form to preserve for years to come. But first, I need to make something worth preserving!

So stay tuned for lots of Muhs summer fun! In the meantime, here's a little glimpse of two of the cutest boys ever! (But I'm not biased or anything.)

There's a reason it's free...

When we had our meeting to go over our plan for Cameron, his intervention teacher informed me that on her first visit with him, she would do some sort of timed-play thing with him involving a doll house and accessories for observation/evaluation purposes. When she showed up 2 weeks ago for the appointment, she had forgotten the house. I thought it was a little odd that you would forget something that was seemingly the purpose of the visit but I let it go.

Our second appointment was scheduled for yesterday at 8:30am. We did this so that Owen might still be sleeping and it would be easier to work with Cameron without also having to entertain Owen. I deliberately kept Owen up later the night before so that he would surely sleep in the following morning. At 8:35am my phone rang.

"Sarah? This is Cathryn. I'm running late."

I wasn't really sure how someone gets behind schedule so early in the day but I said, "Ok."

"I just didn't know if you were waiting for me so I just wanted to call and tell you that I'm leaving the office now and will be there soon."

She didn't know if I was waiting for her? Um, hello? Why wouldn't I be waiting on someone who was supposed to be at my house at a scheduled time? I mean, really, what the hell kind of question was that? Of course I was waiting on her! I had stayed up late the night before cleaning my house. I woke up extra early and actually put on something other than my normal knit pants and sloppy shirt. I even brushed my teeth and put on make-up. I prepared for her because SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE THERE!

She showed up 15 minutes later (I believe her office is about 2 miles away from our house so I'm not really sure why it took 15 minutes if she was leaving right then.) with her dollhouse and accessories in tow. She brought them in and plopped them all out on the coffee table. Cameron took one look at them and took off for his own toys. Shocking that a 17-month-old boy wanted absolutely nothing to do with a wooden doll house, isn't it? She then moved them to the floor where she and I started playing with them and Cameron came over with a look of slight interest in his eyes.

She then tells me that she wants me to play with him while she times him and records things. Cameron and I start playing and I tried to get him interested in the bathtub that looked nothing like his bathtub, the bed that looked nothing like his bed, and so on and so forth. My point there is that why would he want to put the girl in the bathtub when he doesn't even know that's a bathtub? He jibber-jabbered the whole time and Cathy mentioned that she couldn't even keep up with her tallies of all of his "talking" he was doing, which was a great thing. But he never really "played" with the dollhouse and I'm still not really sure that that was the point of the whole exercise. He didn't make it the whole 6 minutes either.

We chatted a bit afterward about things he's doing/saying and things I should be doing with him but I have to say that after 2 visits, I'm really not all that impressed. I don't feel that she vocalized well enough to me exactly what she was measuring with the timed test. If it's to see if he can play make-believe...well, what 17-month-old boy really knows how to play make-believe with a dollhouse? Hell, I don't even think Owen would like to do that. And how can you really evaluate him playing with something that he's never even seen before? I think for the most part she was just trying to see what kinds of words or sounds he would use while interacting with someone else but I still think there has to be a better way to do that.

I'm going to give her another shot in a couple of weeks but if she forgets something or she's late I think I'm going to have to call and request a new teacher. I know she is a good person and I like her but I just feel like if you can't make my son a priority (and forgetting things and showing up late makes it seem to me that he's not) then I'm going to find someone who does make him a priority.

In the meantime, Cameron is still plugging along and has added the following words to his repertoire:

splash
cookie
chugga, chugga
bye bye

Of course, like all of the things he does and says, he only says these when he wants to and rarely when you want him to. But the important thing is that he is using these words in the context in which they should be used. If only I could teach him the word "watch" so that he might suggest one for his teacher...

Confessions of a Worrisome Mother

Cameron has been a little on the irritable side lately. Usually when he gets like this I try to narrow in on what could be causing it. I have gotten pretty good at it in the last 16 months but this time around I just can't figure it out. He just got over an ear infection and his tubes seem to be working, so I don't think it's that. He has all of the teeth he is supposed to have at this stage, so no luck there. After going over all the usual suspects and coming up with nothing Cody and I had this exchange:

"Maybe he has the swine flu."

"Sarah. He does not have the swine flu! How in the world would he get the swine flu? And why do you do that?"

"Why do I do what?"

"Why do you automatically go to the worst, most improbable thing possible?"

In my defense, the swine flu wasn't my first thought, but I do realize how ridiculous the idea was and I really wasn't serious. I have always been a worrier and it has only gotten worse since I've become a mother. I mean, come on, can you blame me? The whole idea that I am completely responsible for the life of not one, but TWO human beings can be a little overwhelming at times! There are so many decisions that I have to make on any given day that will affect their health and well-being. And what can I say? THAT MAKES ME WORRY.

I realized after the aforementioned conversation with Cody that the things that I worry about are much different since having Cameron. I worried throughout his entire pregnancy because I had lost our second child. When my water broke a month early, I worried. When he was diagnosed with MRSA, I worried even more. When he bled out in the hospital for 2 and a half hours and I thought he might die.....you get the idea. I could go on with all the things that have happened with Cameron and have caused me much anxiety but I'll spare you. The point is, all of these things that have happened with him are things that you really never think are going to happen to you....until they do. It is at the point that you realize that if your one-month-old child can get MRSA, ANYTHING CAN HAPPEN.

So anytime something seems a little off with Cameron, my mind goes to the worst possible senario. That's something I never really did before and now it has almost become an automatic response for me. Because now that I've realized anything can happen (even though I knew it before, realizing it is a whole new ball game) I am always afraid that something will happen. This kind of goes back to my post last week about waiting for the other shoe to drop. It's exhausting at times because it's difficult to separate worry from that gut instinct that Moms have.

I am working on it though. I didn't actually take him into the doctor and ask for him to be checked for the swine flu. That's progress, right?

The Other Shoe

After Cameron had MRSA, I always felt like there were going to be other things that came up with him. It was almost like I waited for them. Then he was diagnosed with the torticollis and low-tone. We made it through that but I still felt like something else would eventually pop up. I could never put my finger on it but I once told his doctor that I felt like I was just always waiting for the proverbial other shoe to drop. Don't get me wrong, I have made sure to enjoy him in my time of wait, but in the back of my mind I always wondered. Today, I no longer wonder.

About a month ago I took him for his 15-month well-check. I had some developmental concerns that I had noticed and I brought them up to the doctor. She was concerned as well and referred us to Early Intervention. EI is a federal program that is available to all children from Birth to 3 years. It has different names in every county but does, essentially, the same thing, which is to offer services to children with special needs at little or no cost to the family. Ours is called Early ACCESS. I was put in touch with a lovely woman there and we set up a time for her come to our house and evaluate him. ("They're going to valuate my baby brother?!?!" Owen asked me.) That's right, not only are their services free but they do everything in the most comfortable environment for the child, which is usually the home.

Jill came to our house today and, I'm happy to report, things went really well. Yes, there are still things to be concerned with, but overall I am very pleased with how it all went. She scored Cameron in different areas and said that she would have to calculate his score at her office and get back to me, but that she was pretty sure he would qualify for services. (You have to have a 25% delay in any area to qualify. Although, she said that being premature automatically qualifies him.) I asked her if we were just looking at a delay or if it could be something more serious, i.e. autism. She said he does have one red flag that could suggest autism (He used to say "uh-oh" but no longer says it. Loss of a skill or language is a red flag.) but that he is so young and has so many other promising things that she thinks it is more of a delay than anything else. She kind of feels like I do in that Cameron is just one of those kids that does things on his own time. His doctor and I have both said that about him. I mean, he came into this world on his own time (Lord knows I was not prepared for a baby on December 21st!) and that's the way he has been ever since. He just likes to do things when he is ready and he hates when you tell him otherwise! So, Jill said she would get back to me as far as where to go from here but it looks like we will be setting up some in-home therapies for him where they will also teach me different things that I can do with him.

I have been so worried/stressed out/concerned about this for the last month and today I can finally say that I am at peace with it all. The bottom line is that regardless of what is going on with him, it is a proven fact that early intervention can only help him. Not intervening when a problem exists, can definitely hurt him. So I am completely confident with the path that we have chosen for our sweet little guy. And no matter what happens, I will pick up that other shoe, put it on, and walk this journey with him proudly and happily, just as he has taught me to do over and over again for the last 16 months.

He Don't Need No Stinking Wife!

Throughout our nearly 8 years of marriage I have on many an occassion asked Cody how he ever managed to live without a wife to take care of him. Of course, he says that he does not need me to take care of him and could get along perfectly fine without me (though he would never want to, of course). Maybe we'll let the masses (or at least the 12 people who still read this blog) decide....

Upon returning home from a nearly 2-week visit in Murphysboro, Cody and I had this conversation:

"Cody, where are all your underwear?"

"You know, I was going to ask you the same thing."

"Me? You were going to ask me where your underwear are? I don't wear your underwear, as I have my own, so why would I know where they are?"

"Well, you do the laundry."

"Yes, dear, but I have been gone for almost 2 weeks and have not done any in that time."

He walks off, underwear still somewhere in the Bermuda Triangle, as I contemplate a call to a PI to locate said underwear.

A few hours later, "Seriously!!!! WHERE ARE MY UNDERWEAR?!?!"

Apparently, he felt that the only logical reason behind the missing underwear would be that I was hiding them from him. Nevermind the fact that he WEARS THEM EVERYDAY and might know where they are. No, it's way more believeable that I went around collecting them all just to torture him.

So, maybe he doesn't need a wife, but his underwear does stay out of the Bermuda Triangle when he has one around.

**In case you're wondering, the drawers were located. By the wife, of course.

It Really is 20/20

This morning I went to get Cameron up for the day and found him sitting in his crib in his own vomit. This would explain the moaning and crying he was doing in his sleep last night, which I attributed to other things in my sleepy stupor and thus, did not go to him. Of course, I felt horrible but I set down my "Worst Mother of the Year" award*, plucked him out, and got him in the tub. He seemed to be in a good mood so I thought that maybe this was all due to the fact that we were traveling home from Gramma's last night and we pumped him full of snacks because he was crabby during the ride. Hindsight, of course, tells me that he was crabby for a reason, but I digress.


After I gave him a bath, I went to get a towel, which was literally 1 step and 1 second away from the bathtub. I turned around to see Cameron bending over the tub, sliding out head first. I caught his slippery legs so that he didn't do a complete face plant into the floor but his head still hit. Luckily it hit the rug instead of directly on the ceramic tile. Finding it difficult to hold a wet, slippery, screaming child all while holding my prestigious award, I once again set it down and did my best to calm him down and dry him off.


Still thinking the puking was due to the whole give-him-whatever-he-wants-to-make-him-happy car ride, I fed him some breakfast. He didn't eat much of it, which I thought might mean he had the flu but he was still in a decent mood. He continued to play and whine throughout the morning. But was he whining because he was sick, because he slept horribly because he was covered in his own vomit, or because his loving mother dropped him on his head? Again, in hindsight I really should have figured out the answer to this question much earlier than I did.

It was only after I fed him some crackers and pears for lunch, all of which he projectile-vomited nearly instantly after he ate it, that I came to the conclusion that he was, indeed, sick. So off to the tub we went again, where I spent the next 10 minutes trying to peel the icky clothes off him while I repeatedly yelled at Owen to stay away because I didn't want to have to deal with TWO sick kids.

He was a happy little camper in the tub and seemed to forget the tragedy which occured in there just 4 hours earlier--clearly one of my favorite things about kids. He took a nearly 4 hour nap (another fave of mine) and was even happy and smiling when he woke up! I am hoping that we have seen the worst of it and things will only go up from here.

*This is an imaginary award that my 2 best friends and I jokingly pass around to each other every time we do something that makes us feel like a bad mom. Not that I wish bad mothering on any woman, or any child for that matter, but I can safely say that after today I am ready to pass the award back to one of them for awhile.

Unfortunate Geographics

I'm not really sure exactly what it is that this GI Virus seems to have against the Muhs Clan, but clearly, it is out to destroy us. I thought once we got home from the 'boro we were in the clear and then last night, Cody was struck down. The worst part about this (for me, anyway) is that he spent most of the day yesterday taking care of the boys. He fed them, changed Cam's diapers, played with them, etc. Our recent history with this dreaded virus shows us that just by looking at somone afflicted, you are soon afflicted yourself. So I fear that it is only a matter of time before the boys are sick, and possibly even myself as well. The geographics, you ask? It is times like these that I am painfully aware of just how far away we live from our families, namely the Grandmas. Not only do I like to have my mama around when I'm sick, it is also nice to have a little help when the entire house is sick. Of course, after the last round of sickness in the 'boro I would venture to guess that my mom is secretly singing the praises of the 8 hour drive between us! ;)

So I'm basically sitting here playing the waiting game. I ask Owen every 15 minutes if his tummy hurts or if he feels sick, which is very quickly starting to get on his nerves. I keep thinking I feel nauseated myself, though I kinda think it might just be from anxiety. Because nothing causes me more anxiety than wondering if I'm going to be hit with a puking kid at any given moment or that we might all end up with this at the same time. I think at this point I would settle for someone else's grandma, anyone who is going to be a grandma, was a grandma at one time, or even just looks like a grandma. Alas, I will just suck it up and hope like hell that Cody is the only one who gets it. Because I'm pretty sure my neighbor, though a grandma, is not going to offer to clean up my vomit or bring me some crackers.