My husband is back in town after skiing with my best friend and her family and some other friends. He’s been gone a week and before that I was gone for five days with my best friend and some girlfriends in Cancun. We’re remembering what it’s like to have two parents in the house to do all the things that need to be done in a day. It’s nice to be back together again.
My children were very excited to see their father. My son was particularly excited because he wanted to play Fortnite together and to have dad help him level up on the new “season” of Fortnite that was released while he was out of town.
It’s interesting when you’re solo parenting how things change in your mind. You’d think things get harder because you’re the only parent on the job the entire day but it turns out to be the opposite. You get in the grove of things, expecting to be the only one the children can come to with things they need, want or need refereed. It’s almost easier in a way. I can’t explain it, but I’m a calmer parent when I know there’s no one there to back me up and I have to go it alone.
The children have been quite good for both of us. Mornings went smoothly and the evening routine wasn’t more challenging than it would have normally been. Everyone in our family does well when someone leaves; we don’t bemoan that one parent or child is missing and how we’re missing them so badly, but we do talk about how we’re excited for dad to come home in two days.
My son reminded me this morning that dad was coming home today. He was happy about it, but not concerned. It’s nice that they don’t have separation anxiety over it. For me, I messaged my husband the day after he left and said I sort of missed knowing he was in the basement, playing Fortnite or watching a movie (his end of day routine) while I lay in bed doing things on my iPad (my end of day routine). He said he’d felt similar when I was out of town as well.
I wouldn’t want to single parent as a full-time thing; my husband does a good job of being both a husband and a father. I’m glad he’s back, down in the basement as I write this post, loading up Fortnite and checking out all the updates since he left.
The Big Boy Tiny Girl Twister Adventure: My daughter won a blindfolded Twister game at the Braille Challenge. It’s played like regular Twister but the colored circles are marked with foam shapes on the mat and includes blindfolds. When the color/shape is called out, you have to feel around to find where your hand or foot has to go. It’s fun like traditional Twister, but it gives us a little window into what life is like for my daughter. The only thing she couldn’t do was spin the spinner because you have to see what’s printed on the cardboard to call out what the spinner has landed on. I labeled it tonight with Left Foot, Right Hand, etc. in the corners, added thin strip tape to separate all of the sections of the circle and then we put tactile stickers on each color so “Red Circle” was a raised circle sticker and Blue Diamond was a raised diamond sticker. My children were both really interested in playing, both with and against people as well as just playing by themselves. As a sighted person, playing the game with a blindfold on was both disorienting and challenging. “Red Circle” means “Circle” and red has no bearing. I realized once I started playing that my daughter uses visual words a lot of the time because we do, even though they mean nothing to her.
Saturday, March 2, 2019
Friday, March 1, 2019
Adderall
It would appear I forgot to write a blog post last night. Every so often I get in bed with a niggling thought in the back of my mind that I’ve forgotten something. Usually I don’t have forget the blog post because I have something I want to write about. But every so often this happens. And typically it’s on days I have something to write about but eleventy twelve things need to get done and I just forget.
What I was going to write about last night was our recent experience with my son and putting him on medication for some ADHD behaviors he has. I don’t like to say he, “has ADHD” because I just don’t like labeling him that way. He has inattentiveness and hyperactivity though. I had it as a child myself. He has a hard time staying on task because his processing speed is slower than his brain is moving through information. He has anxiety as a result, because he’s not able to do the things he knows he’s supposed to be doing (work at school) and is doing things he shouldn’t be (distracting and interrupting other students).
We’ve done just about everything we could to avoid medication. We’ve worked with a play therapist, an integrative occupational therapist, done Theraplay, had him do neural feedback sessions, brought in a nutritionist who specializes the connection of ADHD and food. We’ve had him formally evaluated by a psychiatrist to get a full IQ rating and all aspects of his ability to learn (which is where we got the ADHD details on him). We’ve been working with his teachers for two years on how to best prepare him for school and they have done countless things to try and make his learning environment best suited to his needs.
But it wasn’t enough. And my son was getting dejected by it all. He said to me one day, “why do I need so much help?” We didn’t have him in extra curricular activities because he was busy seeing too many specialists. The day my son said that to me my husband and I realized we needed to think about how all the “help” was really helping him, or if it was hurting his self-image and morale more than it was helping.
Then there was the meeting called with my son’s teachers, special needs teacher and the head of school. My son had had a very bad day and had said some alarming things because his anger wasn’t in check. We address that quickly but moved into how we all had tried our best for him but it wasn’t helping enough.
After that meeting my husband and I both drove off in our separate cars and got on the phone. We both had independently decided we needed to try medication, that we’d put it off for as long as was reasonable, but if it helped him when everything else was failing, we were doing him a disservice by not trying it.
I got in quickly with another psychiatrist and had my son’s evaluations sent over in advance. He agreed it looked like medication might make a difference—both significantly and immediately. But there was a catch: not every medication works for every child, even when the diagnosis is similar. So we’d try the first one and if that didn’t work, go to the second one.
We tried a variant of Ritalin first, with very poor results. Over the weekend when we gave it to him, my son turned into a more extreme version of himself. He was both mentally and physically out of control and he couldn’t control his emotions at all, resulting in high levels of anger or sadness.
We next tried Adderall and per instructions, gave him a half pill for the first day. I was out of town at the time but my husband said it looked like the same result as the first medicine. I was with my best friend at the time and one of her daughters takes Adderall and she had some advice: sometime a higher dose is what’s really needed.
When I got home and my husband left to go skiing I gave my son a full dose and was surprised with the result. My son was interested in doing things for long periods. He was engaged and enjoyed what he was doing. Mentally, he was calm.
So I gave him an Adderall and sent him to school on Monday with a message to his teachers about the new medication. The week was interesting. There were some things that happened on Monday that put the medication in question, but his teachers and therapist said to keep with it for a few days and the good news is, it’s working.
We’ve been getting a detailed report from his teachers each day on how his day has gone. My son has completed more work in the past week than he’s ever done before. And my son suddenly loves school. He told me school was his favorite thing on Thursday night and he even brought home work one day because he wanted to keep working on something and ran out of time.
There is one catch though: when the Adderall wears off (it’s about six hours and has trailed off mostly by pickup) my son is emotionally on edge and can very easily become highly disregulated. One afternoon he threw a tantrum for over an hour—a tantrum the likes of which I haven’t seen before.
We’re working on ways to combat that aspect though, because the benefits he’s getting from the medication at school are worth it. Maddie, my best friend’s daughter, said when she gets home from school and her Adderall has worn off, she is usually very hungry. Some people have a loss of appetite on the medication but so far, my son has been eating his entire meal and is hungry for more when he gets home.
So we’ll see how it continues to go, but this was a good week. And my son is proud of what he’s doing at school. He’s excited about it even. As much as my husband and I don’t want to turn to medication to help him, I think it was a good choice at this point.
The Big Boy Update: My son came home with a full backpack. He had notebooks and papers and book reports he’d completed over the first part of the school year. He wanted to show it all to me, laying it out on the counter in the kitchen. He was proud of all the work he’d accomplished this year.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter and I made flash cards last night for the braille contractions she knew as well as for the ones I knew. She was typing out all the “dot five” contractions she could remember. My favorite was “dot five Lloyd”. I said, “I think you mean “dot five Lord”. They use the contraction at school but in a non-religious way so I think she thought it was someone’s name all along instead of meaning the Lord.
What I was going to write about last night was our recent experience with my son and putting him on medication for some ADHD behaviors he has. I don’t like to say he, “has ADHD” because I just don’t like labeling him that way. He has inattentiveness and hyperactivity though. I had it as a child myself. He has a hard time staying on task because his processing speed is slower than his brain is moving through information. He has anxiety as a result, because he’s not able to do the things he knows he’s supposed to be doing (work at school) and is doing things he shouldn’t be (distracting and interrupting other students).
We’ve done just about everything we could to avoid medication. We’ve worked with a play therapist, an integrative occupational therapist, done Theraplay, had him do neural feedback sessions, brought in a nutritionist who specializes the connection of ADHD and food. We’ve had him formally evaluated by a psychiatrist to get a full IQ rating and all aspects of his ability to learn (which is where we got the ADHD details on him). We’ve been working with his teachers for two years on how to best prepare him for school and they have done countless things to try and make his learning environment best suited to his needs.
But it wasn’t enough. And my son was getting dejected by it all. He said to me one day, “why do I need so much help?” We didn’t have him in extra curricular activities because he was busy seeing too many specialists. The day my son said that to me my husband and I realized we needed to think about how all the “help” was really helping him, or if it was hurting his self-image and morale more than it was helping.
Then there was the meeting called with my son’s teachers, special needs teacher and the head of school. My son had had a very bad day and had said some alarming things because his anger wasn’t in check. We address that quickly but moved into how we all had tried our best for him but it wasn’t helping enough.
After that meeting my husband and I both drove off in our separate cars and got on the phone. We both had independently decided we needed to try medication, that we’d put it off for as long as was reasonable, but if it helped him when everything else was failing, we were doing him a disservice by not trying it.
I got in quickly with another psychiatrist and had my son’s evaluations sent over in advance. He agreed it looked like medication might make a difference—both significantly and immediately. But there was a catch: not every medication works for every child, even when the diagnosis is similar. So we’d try the first one and if that didn’t work, go to the second one.
We tried a variant of Ritalin first, with very poor results. Over the weekend when we gave it to him, my son turned into a more extreme version of himself. He was both mentally and physically out of control and he couldn’t control his emotions at all, resulting in high levels of anger or sadness.
We next tried Adderall and per instructions, gave him a half pill for the first day. I was out of town at the time but my husband said it looked like the same result as the first medicine. I was with my best friend at the time and one of her daughters takes Adderall and she had some advice: sometime a higher dose is what’s really needed.
When I got home and my husband left to go skiing I gave my son a full dose and was surprised with the result. My son was interested in doing things for long periods. He was engaged and enjoyed what he was doing. Mentally, he was calm.
So I gave him an Adderall and sent him to school on Monday with a message to his teachers about the new medication. The week was interesting. There were some things that happened on Monday that put the medication in question, but his teachers and therapist said to keep with it for a few days and the good news is, it’s working.
We’ve been getting a detailed report from his teachers each day on how his day has gone. My son has completed more work in the past week than he’s ever done before. And my son suddenly loves school. He told me school was his favorite thing on Thursday night and he even brought home work one day because he wanted to keep working on something and ran out of time.
There is one catch though: when the Adderall wears off (it’s about six hours and has trailed off mostly by pickup) my son is emotionally on edge and can very easily become highly disregulated. One afternoon he threw a tantrum for over an hour—a tantrum the likes of which I haven’t seen before.
We’re working on ways to combat that aspect though, because the benefits he’s getting from the medication at school are worth it. Maddie, my best friend’s daughter, said when she gets home from school and her Adderall has worn off, she is usually very hungry. Some people have a loss of appetite on the medication but so far, my son has been eating his entire meal and is hungry for more when he gets home.
So we’ll see how it continues to go, but this was a good week. And my son is proud of what he’s doing at school. He’s excited about it even. As much as my husband and I don’t want to turn to medication to help him, I think it was a good choice at this point.
The Big Boy Update: My son came home with a full backpack. He had notebooks and papers and book reports he’d completed over the first part of the school year. He wanted to show it all to me, laying it out on the counter in the kitchen. He was proud of all the work he’d accomplished this year.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter and I made flash cards last night for the braille contractions she knew as well as for the ones I knew. She was typing out all the “dot five” contractions she could remember. My favorite was “dot five Lloyd”. I said, “I think you mean “dot five Lord”. They use the contraction at school but in a non-religious way so I think she thought it was someone’s name all along instead of meaning the Lord.
Thursday, February 28, 2019
The Braille Challenge
Today was the regional Braille Challenge. Visually impaired students from elementary through high school competed in reading comprehension, spelling, accuracy and speed of braille typing. My husband entered my daughter into the event because she’s quite good at all of the above. We’d also heard it was a nice way to meet other visually impaired students and their families.
My daughter was initially apprehensive about being entered into the challenge. It’s a test for one and a competitive test at that. Her retired braillest told her the first year you go, it’s just for fun and that it doesn’t matter what you do on the braille side of things. Mrs. Aagaard has a way of saying things in such a way that it makes my daughter relaxed and interested in things. After their talk, she was interested in going.
When we arrived this morning I quickly realized my daughter was the youngest participant there as a first grader. I would guess the next youngest students were in third grade and most were older still in middle school or high school. Here’s a picture of all the participants:
My daughter is in the pink sweat pants in the front row.
After opening ceremonies and pictures the participants went off to their testing rooms and the adults went to a meeting room where we had speakers through the morning’s testing time. After about twenty minutes one of the proctors in my daughter’s room came and found me, saying my daughter was having a hard time.
I went in to find her in tears and looking like she felt she’d failed everything. I knelt down and she told me, “there are so many contractions. I don’t know what it says.” I went to the proctor and asked her what she’d given my daughter because she was signed up for uncontracted braille. The proctor, who was super nice, had been asked to volunteer by her husband last minute and didn’t even know what the words, “contracted” and “uncontracted” meant and knew zero about braille.
My daughter had been given something impossible for her to do. It’s like being given a calculus test when you’re only in second semester algebra. The other proctor didn’t realize what had happened and when she did they found the correct reading comprehension packet in uncontracted braille (which has all words completely spelled out without any shortcut braille symbols). We got it to my daughter and she started reading and I could tell she was trying to go quickly.
About that time they announced there were twelve minutes left for that section. My daughter quietly wailed, “oh no, I’ll never finish in time.” I could hear the despair in her voice. I went up to the proctors and asked if she could be given adequate time to complete the section since she had only now gotten the proper test assignment. They agreed she could have time and apologized again for the mistake.
I went back and told my daughter that this year was for fun, not to compete and that she wasn’t being scored against anyone anyways and to not worry about it, to do what she felt like doing. She was busy reading at that point so I left the room quietly.
I came back a while later to find the room empty with everyone taking a break—except for my daughter, who was solemnly typing answers on her braille writer. I didn’t return for the rest of the testing period because they had found the other two test sections in uncontracted format and would be sure to get my daughter the versions of the tests she was suppose to have.
We all met in the large meeting room for lunch after the tests were over and I came upstairs where I saw my daughter happily sitting with a group of students, eating her lunch. She wasn’t clingy when I came to say hello, she told me she had made some new friends.
The rest of the day went very well, with my daughter enjoying the drum circle the entire time and being excited she won a raffle prize. As we drove home I told her I had had a good time today. She said, “I didn’t have a good time.” I said, “you didn’t?” She replied, “I had a great time.”
The Big Boy Update: My son had another good day at school with the Adderall. My mother picked him up and got him an adult’s meal at Chick-Fil-A, which he completely ate. He was much more regulated when he got home, unlike yesterday, which was exceptionally challenging for both him and me. He also had eaten his large lunch. It looks like he might not be affected by the lack of appetite some children have when taking Adderall.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: When I think about what my daughter did today: going into a room with no one she knew, taking a standardized test that was also a competition and being given the wrong version—which she couldn’t read—I’m very proud of her. She was upset, but she handled it and recovered well. She told me later she thought she did very well on the spelling part because she’s very good at spelling (which she is).
My daughter was initially apprehensive about being entered into the challenge. It’s a test for one and a competitive test at that. Her retired braillest told her the first year you go, it’s just for fun and that it doesn’t matter what you do on the braille side of things. Mrs. Aagaard has a way of saying things in such a way that it makes my daughter relaxed and interested in things. After their talk, she was interested in going.
When we arrived this morning I quickly realized my daughter was the youngest participant there as a first grader. I would guess the next youngest students were in third grade and most were older still in middle school or high school. Here’s a picture of all the participants:
My daughter is in the pink sweat pants in the front row.
After opening ceremonies and pictures the participants went off to their testing rooms and the adults went to a meeting room where we had speakers through the morning’s testing time. After about twenty minutes one of the proctors in my daughter’s room came and found me, saying my daughter was having a hard time.
I went in to find her in tears and looking like she felt she’d failed everything. I knelt down and she told me, “there are so many contractions. I don’t know what it says.” I went to the proctor and asked her what she’d given my daughter because she was signed up for uncontracted braille. The proctor, who was super nice, had been asked to volunteer by her husband last minute and didn’t even know what the words, “contracted” and “uncontracted” meant and knew zero about braille.
My daughter had been given something impossible for her to do. It’s like being given a calculus test when you’re only in second semester algebra. The other proctor didn’t realize what had happened and when she did they found the correct reading comprehension packet in uncontracted braille (which has all words completely spelled out without any shortcut braille symbols). We got it to my daughter and she started reading and I could tell she was trying to go quickly.
About that time they announced there were twelve minutes left for that section. My daughter quietly wailed, “oh no, I’ll never finish in time.” I could hear the despair in her voice. I went up to the proctors and asked if she could be given adequate time to complete the section since she had only now gotten the proper test assignment. They agreed she could have time and apologized again for the mistake.
I went back and told my daughter that this year was for fun, not to compete and that she wasn’t being scored against anyone anyways and to not worry about it, to do what she felt like doing. She was busy reading at that point so I left the room quietly.
I came back a while later to find the room empty with everyone taking a break—except for my daughter, who was solemnly typing answers on her braille writer. I didn’t return for the rest of the testing period because they had found the other two test sections in uncontracted format and would be sure to get my daughter the versions of the tests she was suppose to have.
We all met in the large meeting room for lunch after the tests were over and I came upstairs where I saw my daughter happily sitting with a group of students, eating her lunch. She wasn’t clingy when I came to say hello, she told me she had made some new friends.
The rest of the day went very well, with my daughter enjoying the drum circle the entire time and being excited she won a raffle prize. As we drove home I told her I had had a good time today. She said, “I didn’t have a good time.” I said, “you didn’t?” She replied, “I had a great time.”
The Big Boy Update: My son had another good day at school with the Adderall. My mother picked him up and got him an adult’s meal at Chick-Fil-A, which he completely ate. He was much more regulated when he got home, unlike yesterday, which was exceptionally challenging for both him and me. He also had eaten his large lunch. It looks like he might not be affected by the lack of appetite some children have when taking Adderall.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: When I think about what my daughter did today: going into a room with no one she knew, taking a standardized test that was also a competition and being given the wrong version—which she couldn’t read—I’m very proud of her. She was upset, but she handled it and recovered well. She told me later she thought she did very well on the spelling part because she’s very good at spelling (which she is).
Wednesday, February 27, 2019
You Are My Sunshine
When I was a little girl my mother would put me to bed every night. She would get me all situated with the covers just so and my nightgown just right and then she’d sing to me, “You Are My Sunshine”. It’s interesting that as a child I have no memory of that song ever growing old. I looked forward to her singing it to me each and every night.
When I had my children and they were very little I could sing to them anything I wanted because they were too small to have an opinion. Sometimes I’d sing and sometimes I’d just tuck them in and walk out, glad that they fell asleep so quickly. But I did try to sing to them some, and one of the songs I would sing would be You Are My Sunshine.
Interestingly enough, my daughter wanted to have nothing to do with the song. It could have been my lack of ability to sing, but for some reason that particular song she would tell me to stop, that she didn’t want to hear that song.
Just this week though she’s been asking Alexa to play the song and she’s been singing along. I don’t know where she heard it from, but she likes the song now and even likes it when I sing it. Maybe Mimi can sing it to her one night when she’s watching the children while we’re out. My daughter knows Mimi sang the song to me when I was little. I bet my daughter would really like to hear Mimi sing it.
The Big Boy Update: Still gathering information on the medication for ADHD for my son, but as of right now, we have a medication that’s working while he’s at school but when he gets home and it’s worn off, he has a lot of trouble staying regulated. He’s crazy bad disregulated. His teacher is happy with the results. To give you an idea of how big a change it is: my son told me tonight his favorite thing is school—because he’s, "learning some really interesting stuff right now”.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter asked me if we could make cinnamon rolls for breakfast one morning. I told her I’d get some at the store (the kind in the pop-out cardboard tube) and we could make them this weekend.
When I had my children and they were very little I could sing to them anything I wanted because they were too small to have an opinion. Sometimes I’d sing and sometimes I’d just tuck them in and walk out, glad that they fell asleep so quickly. But I did try to sing to them some, and one of the songs I would sing would be You Are My Sunshine.
Interestingly enough, my daughter wanted to have nothing to do with the song. It could have been my lack of ability to sing, but for some reason that particular song she would tell me to stop, that she didn’t want to hear that song.
Just this week though she’s been asking Alexa to play the song and she’s been singing along. I don’t know where she heard it from, but she likes the song now and even likes it when I sing it. Maybe Mimi can sing it to her one night when she’s watching the children while we’re out. My daughter knows Mimi sang the song to me when I was little. I bet my daughter would really like to hear Mimi sing it.
The Big Boy Update: Still gathering information on the medication for ADHD for my son, but as of right now, we have a medication that’s working while he’s at school but when he gets home and it’s worn off, he has a lot of trouble staying regulated. He’s crazy bad disregulated. His teacher is happy with the results. To give you an idea of how big a change it is: my son told me tonight his favorite thing is school—because he’s, "learning some really interesting stuff right now”.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter asked me if we could make cinnamon rolls for breakfast one morning. I told her I’d get some at the store (the kind in the pop-out cardboard tube) and we could make them this weekend.
Tuesday, February 26, 2019
Spaying
The dog was spayed today. I was glad she weighed over twenty pounds (she was 22.3 pounds this morning) so they could do the surgery laparoscopically, giving her a more easy and quicker recovery time. Matisse is going through some teenager hormonal changes of late, with obstinance and forgetting all training topping the list of changes.
I had to almost drag her into the office this morning, which isn’t typical because the vet’s office is where she goes for dog training classes, which she likes. Although on Monday night I had to nearly drag her into class and then she decided to ignore all food and drag at the leash, trying to smell the other dogs near her for the majority of the hour. When I talked to the trainer about it she asked how old she was and when I said she was just under six months and she was about to be spayed, the trainer said, “well, that explains it.”
I had to pick her up after getting my son from school. Aunt Margaret was with us in the car and helped us get her in the house and in her cage with the cone on her head. Matisse isn’t happy about the cone, but not overly so. She’s mostly resting now and low energy. The vet said because of how they were able to do the surgery she’s not worried about her tearing anything or internal bleeds, even if she jumps up, although to try and keep her calm for a day or two.
My children were both interested in how she was feeling. My son wanted to see the incisions but decided they weren’t that interesting once he had a look. I don’t like that she’s uncomfortable, but it needed to be done. Hopefully she’ll be back to her bouncy self in a few days.
The Big Boy Update: My son said he was glad Matisse had had the surgery because he didn’t want to have any more, “dates” with her and wanted to play with her like they used to. (“dates” = mounting behavior)
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter wanted to understand what I meant by a cone on the dog’s head and why she needed it. I took off the cone and let her feel the flat, semi-circle of plastic. I asked if she could find the two velcro sections. Then I coiled the cone up and had her see how it was velcroed together. I explained how Matisse wouldn’t be able to get to her incisions with the cone on and this was to protect her from hurting herself without realizing what she was doing because dogs sometimes licked wounds or bit at stitches. Then I put the cone back on the dog and let her feel her head inside it. She wanted to know if Matisse got to have popsicles after waking up from surgery like she did.
I had to almost drag her into the office this morning, which isn’t typical because the vet’s office is where she goes for dog training classes, which she likes. Although on Monday night I had to nearly drag her into class and then she decided to ignore all food and drag at the leash, trying to smell the other dogs near her for the majority of the hour. When I talked to the trainer about it she asked how old she was and when I said she was just under six months and she was about to be spayed, the trainer said, “well, that explains it.”
I had to pick her up after getting my son from school. Aunt Margaret was with us in the car and helped us get her in the house and in her cage with the cone on her head. Matisse isn’t happy about the cone, but not overly so. She’s mostly resting now and low energy. The vet said because of how they were able to do the surgery she’s not worried about her tearing anything or internal bleeds, even if she jumps up, although to try and keep her calm for a day or two.
My children were both interested in how she was feeling. My son wanted to see the incisions but decided they weren’t that interesting once he had a look. I don’t like that she’s uncomfortable, but it needed to be done. Hopefully she’ll be back to her bouncy self in a few days.
The Big Boy Update: My son said he was glad Matisse had had the surgery because he didn’t want to have any more, “dates” with her and wanted to play with her like they used to. (“dates” = mounting behavior)
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter wanted to understand what I meant by a cone on the dog’s head and why she needed it. I took off the cone and let her feel the flat, semi-circle of plastic. I asked if she could find the two velcro sections. Then I coiled the cone up and had her see how it was velcroed together. I explained how Matisse wouldn’t be able to get to her incisions with the cone on and this was to protect her from hurting herself without realizing what she was doing because dogs sometimes licked wounds or bit at stitches. Then I put the cone back on the dog and let her feel her head inside it. She wanted to know if Matisse got to have popsicles after waking up from surgery like she did.
Monday, February 25, 2019
Grown-up Hot Dog Soup
When I was young my father, or was it my mother, made something called Hot Dog Soup. I loved it. It had potatoes and little slices of hot dogs in it and it was creamy and I always loved it when they made it.
When I got older and moved into my own place I remember my mother made me some recipe cards of things I could make that would be easy for someone in college who was out on their own for the first time. One of the recipes was for Hot Dog Soup. It was easy: a can of Campbell’s potato soup, some cream and hot dogs. Add all three into a pot, heat and you were set.
I made it a lot when I was younger but it’s been a long time since I’ve made it at this point. My mother has been cooking for us as a welcome home present of late. When I got back from Cancun she said she was making Zuppa Toscana soup and did I want some? This is a recipe that matches the soup offered by Olive Garden. It’s my favorite soup there and my mother’s version is just is good and possibly better. "Of course I’d take some," I told her.
Tonight at nine-thirty when I’d gotten the children in bed and finally had time to eat dinner I warmed up a bowl of her soup. As I sat there eating this creamy potato soup with mild sausage I realized it had a taste not unlike hot dog soup—only more grown up in flavors.
The Big Boy Update: My mother watched the children tonight while I took the dog to dog training class. When I got home my mother told me my son had asked her, “how much does my mom pay you to watch us?”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter got home close to five o’clock but she was still ready for music lesson with Chelsea. She ran over next door to find Madison and then asked Chelsea if Madison could join in the music lesson. I heard Madison say as the three of them went upstairs, “I just love music."
When I got older and moved into my own place I remember my mother made me some recipe cards of things I could make that would be easy for someone in college who was out on their own for the first time. One of the recipes was for Hot Dog Soup. It was easy: a can of Campbell’s potato soup, some cream and hot dogs. Add all three into a pot, heat and you were set.
I made it a lot when I was younger but it’s been a long time since I’ve made it at this point. My mother has been cooking for us as a welcome home present of late. When I got back from Cancun she said she was making Zuppa Toscana soup and did I want some? This is a recipe that matches the soup offered by Olive Garden. It’s my favorite soup there and my mother’s version is just is good and possibly better. "Of course I’d take some," I told her.
Tonight at nine-thirty when I’d gotten the children in bed and finally had time to eat dinner I warmed up a bowl of her soup. As I sat there eating this creamy potato soup with mild sausage I realized it had a taste not unlike hot dog soup—only more grown up in flavors.
The Big Boy Update: My mother watched the children tonight while I took the dog to dog training class. When I got home my mother told me my son had asked her, “how much does my mom pay you to watch us?”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter got home close to five o’clock but she was still ready for music lesson with Chelsea. She ran over next door to find Madison and then asked Chelsea if Madison could join in the music lesson. I heard Madison say as the three of them went upstairs, “I just love music."
Sunday, February 24, 2019
The Candy Stash
My husband left to go skiing for a week this morning. He arrived and has talked to the children and they’re now both in bed. Lunches are made, the house is clean and I’m here writing this blog post. My daughter and I had a nice day today, working on some braille in the bonus room for a while before friends on the street came over to play outside—which was quite something to behold after five days of straight rain here. The sun came out and the children were sent outside by all the parents on the street. Since my children haven’t had a chance to play with any of their friends in close to two weeks due to the flu, they were very glad to see their friends again.
I continued to stay up in the bonus room, working through the huge pile of braille work my daughter had completed from school back even into December. I read through all the work she does at school as a point of review and practice for my braille study. I can use the work, it’s getting easier and faster to read braille, but it’s still a lot of dots on the page a good portion of the time until I get back into reading after a break.
My son came in at one point this afternoon to tell me had I heard about my daughter’s, “candy stash” in their room? I had heard about it but hadn’t really looked into it. Mostly it’s fueled by her friends when they come over I think. They take candy out of the candy bowl I keep on a high shelf in the mud room and they were putting it somewhere. My son had found that somewhere and told me I should check it out.
Tonight he reminded me about it and he was right, it was a pretty impressive collection of candy and wrappers in one of the drawers in their bathroom. I removed some of it but left some. My daughter likes candy but doesn’t eat too much typically, forgetting about candy even after going to the candy store usually the next day.
I was impressed with the collection though. I think if I had a candy stash like that in my room as a child I wouldn’t have been able to control myself and it wouldn’t have remained a candy stash for long at all.
The Big Boy Update: My son didn’t want to go outside and play initially and said there was nothing to do, so I suggested some different things. Unexpectedly, he wanted to work with the colored corn starch packing pellets to make some art. I’ve typically made things with them in a two-dimensional fashion but I came in after ten minutes and was surprised to see him building things in three dimensions. He made more than one page, the one pictured below is an island theme with a snake (suggested by Aunt Margaret when he asked, “what else can I make that’s green?”). The other sheet had a house, picnic table with benches and a man holding a dog on a leash.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: As I was drying my daughter’s hair tonight she was playing with the dog and asked me, “are dogs ticklish?” I told her I didn’t know so she did the obvious next thing to do if you’re seven-years-old and live in today’s era: she asked Alexa. Alexa told us scientists don’t really know if dogs are ticklish but they do have something called the, “scratch reflex” that gets triggered when we’re scratching them and they suddenly lift their leg and start to scratch along with you.
I continued to stay up in the bonus room, working through the huge pile of braille work my daughter had completed from school back even into December. I read through all the work she does at school as a point of review and practice for my braille study. I can use the work, it’s getting easier and faster to read braille, but it’s still a lot of dots on the page a good portion of the time until I get back into reading after a break.
My son came in at one point this afternoon to tell me had I heard about my daughter’s, “candy stash” in their room? I had heard about it but hadn’t really looked into it. Mostly it’s fueled by her friends when they come over I think. They take candy out of the candy bowl I keep on a high shelf in the mud room and they were putting it somewhere. My son had found that somewhere and told me I should check it out.
Tonight he reminded me about it and he was right, it was a pretty impressive collection of candy and wrappers in one of the drawers in their bathroom. I removed some of it but left some. My daughter likes candy but doesn’t eat too much typically, forgetting about candy even after going to the candy store usually the next day.
I was impressed with the collection though. I think if I had a candy stash like that in my room as a child I wouldn’t have been able to control myself and it wouldn’t have remained a candy stash for long at all.
The Big Boy Update: My son didn’t want to go outside and play initially and said there was nothing to do, so I suggested some different things. Unexpectedly, he wanted to work with the colored corn starch packing pellets to make some art. I’ve typically made things with them in a two-dimensional fashion but I came in after ten minutes and was surprised to see him building things in three dimensions. He made more than one page, the one pictured below is an island theme with a snake (suggested by Aunt Margaret when he asked, “what else can I make that’s green?”). The other sheet had a house, picnic table with benches and a man holding a dog on a leash.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: As I was drying my daughter’s hair tonight she was playing with the dog and asked me, “are dogs ticklish?” I told her I didn’t know so she did the obvious next thing to do if you’re seven-years-old and live in today’s era: she asked Alexa. Alexa told us scientists don’t really know if dogs are ticklish but they do have something called the, “scratch reflex” that gets triggered when we’re scratching them and they suddenly lift their leg and start to scratch along with you.
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