1. Preschool (parts one and two of The Preschool Saga)
We met with the services coordinator today, and I asked about visiting the preschool relatively soon. She said that she would put in a call to the director, but doesn't foresee any problems. I want to get in soon because I hear often that the preschool classes at the end of the year look significantly different than the beginning because, as the school psychologist said, by then the kids have been programmed. So I figure better now than in May. I seriously expected her to be uber mean about everything because in past IFSP meetings, she's been the most determined to get Abigail in school, but she was actually really respectful and friendly today! She has a niece with Ds who is homeschooled and understands the benefits. But she also said that no kid on her case load has ever not gone to preschool at age 3. Yeowza.
2. More Preschool
The services coordinator advised that if we do decide to homeschool Abigail or post-pone preschool for a year, she is still eligible for services through the public school system. We'd have to take Abigail up to the school for her therapy and some of them (specifically physical therapy) are integrated into the daily class routine, so we would probably go up for "motor activity time" whenever the class usually holds that, for example, but we certainly have options and can make decisions. That made me feel a lot better. Ever since Abigail was born, I feel like there's been a panel of experts telling me what to do with her next. Sometimes I don't even feel like she's my kid. I seriously have this deep-seeded fear that if I don't send her to school like the therapists want, they're going to call child protective services on me and I'll end up as one of those crazy news stories like the judge that ordered the mother to stop breastfeeding or some such deal.
3. The Last Preschool Quick Take
I have no idea what I want to do and I have a really hard time discerning when I'm being overly protective and when I should trust my instincts. "Abigail is not ready!" my heart keeps shouting, but am I just terrified for my baby bird to take her first test-flight, or is she truly not ready? I mean, seriously, we're talking about 2.5 hours of story time, snack time, arts and crafts, and therapy at a location .6 miles from my front door. Can it get anymore innocent? But at the same time, she can't even come home from school and tell me if something went wrong. How can I send that child away?
I have been getting advice from friends, and I reached out to my homeschooling sister-in-law for her experiences, and I'm carefully storing everything up. I'm going to gather up more information based on the list I made in part two and spend lots of time in thought and prayer and discussion with Matt about this topic. If you have any advice (be it for or against any side!), please feel free to leave me a comment. I'd love to hear more perspectives and more advice on how to come to a decision.
4. Damn Raisins
While doing some cleaning this morning, Abigail and I discovered an old (empty) bag of yogurt covered raisins under the stove. Abigail snatched it up and before I could bat an eye, the kid who can't walk over a book without tripping is darting out of the kitchen and down the hall like a high school track star. What is even more shocking about this event is that we haven't bought yogurt covered raisins in a long time and normally Abigail has a pretty poor memory. But somehow...that bag...she was in love. She ended up leaving it on my side of the bed. Seriously, she even acted a little hurt, almost betrayed, by the discovery of the bag. I'd buy more, but I read the label and now I can't possibly justify another bag. (Partially hydrogenated palm kernel old does not a healthy snack make).
Laundry used to be one of my least favorite chores. That, and vacuuming were tied for first place. But having my own washer and dryer makes me not mind laundry one bit. It's been nearly four months since we left Chicago, but every time I toss in a load before feeding Abigail breakfast, every time I twist the dial without inserting a line of quarters, every time I realize I forgot something and throw it in without taking two flights of stairs (each way) and unlocking and relocking two doors, I do a little happy dance inside. I love washing my sheets and towels whenever I want because we don't have a freakin' laundry budget. Ah, I can just imagine how nice this is going to be once we have a newborn in the house.
6. My Head Hurts
I get headaches like the Kardashians get divorced. Without exaggerating, I get headaches from:
- my blood sugar dropping too low (I'm not diabetic, but I have blood sugar regulation issues)
- exercising too hard
- not enough salt in my diet
- too much time in the sun
- too much time in front of an electronic screen
- sleeping "too hard" (it's hard to explain, but you know that feeling when you feel like you woke up from a completely dead sleep? That gives me a headache)
- being around loud noises for a long period of time
The longest I've ever had a headache was three weeks straight.
I'm used to my headaches the way someone with allergies is used to have a stuffy nose every spring and fall. I don't usually take something for them until they turn into migraines (not sure what triggers my migraines). When I get a migraine, I usually down a handful of Tylenol and aspirin, pray I don't overdoes, and sleep in a dark room until the pain disappears and I'm just left with that post-migraine haze. They aren't usually very effected by light or noise, but definitely by movement. Movement is very painful when I have a migraine.
You can't take a handful of Tylenol and aspirin when you're pregnant.
7. I look like the Little Mermaid
I've been really, really sick this pregnancy. Between the extreme nausea, intense fatigue, food aversions bad enough to send my body into starvation mode, and the kidney stent hell, I haven't really spent much time on my hair or make up. I don't shower every day. Most of the time I'm in sweats or yoga pants. I spend a lot of time laying on the couch or on the floor playing quiet games with Abigail. I haven't swapped my glasses for contacts in more than a month. I've felt really lazy, ugly, and uncomfortable with my changing body. So when I got my allowance money on payday, I hit up Meijer and got myself some hair dye and a few new hair products. Even the dying process did more to lift my spirits than a dozen chocolate cupcakes ever could.
I only started dying my hair a year and a half ago and I usually get something very close to my natural color. I take my natural hair color's red highlights and dye my whole head that color. It's natural enough that not even my own mother knew I dyed my hair when she first saw it. Similar color also means I don't have to deal with root touch-up, so I usually only color 2-3 times a year. But this time I decided to get something more vibrant. After months of feeling so down, I wanted to feel pretty. Plus, Thanksgiving is coming up. I'd hoped to get my hair cut, and I'm showing a baby bump, so I thought a little "vibrant red" sounded pretty good.
Except now I resemble The Little Mermaid. Just a bit. And since I had my glasses off and wasn't wearing contacts when I was dying it, it's really streaky. Like bright red, bright red, coppery red. Whoops. When Abigail first saw it, she laughed. She touched my hair and laughed.