June 21, 2011


Today was the transition meeting for my buddy to enter preschool.  Our Birth to Three team was there to inform my buddy's teacher, program coordinator, occupational and speech therapist from the preschool where he stands in his development.  The preschool will use that information to set up an individual plan for him.  They asked some questions and answered the few questions we had.

In the beginning of October, we will go back for the PPT where his plan will be outlined.  Then my buddy will spend some time in the classroom with one of his Birth to Three providers while I hang in the hallway.  After some observation, his plan will be finalized and my buddy will be preschool bound mid-October.

It seems like so much for one 3 year old boy.  I am grateful that he will have so many opportunities.  I think about not so long ago when he would have been denied an education and more often than not, sent to an institution with no hope for his future.  I really hope that I never have to battle the school system like so many others have.  Perhaps it's naive of me, but I believe that most Special Ed teachers are there for the right reasons and do have my buddy's best interests at heart.  (Maybe having my Mom be a Special Ed teacher led me to that conclusion.)

Of course, I still have my concerns.  My buddy's safety being at the top of the list.  When we visited the classroom, they had the doors wide open.  There are so many bins to dump and things to throw and smaller toys than what I usually let him near.  I wonder if he will be able to communicate with his teacher (who only knows a small handful of sign language) and if he will not care or if it will lead to more frustration. 

For now it all seems like a lot to grasp.  I think I need to start making a list of questions to bring with me in October.  For some reason, I have this mental image of my buddy at school - he separates from me with no problem, is playing and having fun, and then all of a sudden... he wonders where Mama is and doesn't know what is going on or when I will be back and no one can understand him.  Who will hug and kiss him when he falls down?  The hardest part of parenting is letting go.

June 13, 2011


I am always amazed how 2 children who grow up in the same house can be so different.  Here are just a few examples:

Monkey bear can talk nonstop, yet she won't even say "Hi" to her friends.  My buddy has few words, yet he's the first to greet a stranger with an "Aaahhh" and a pat on the knee.

My buddy loves all things salty and monkey bear is a sweet loving girl.  She favors fruit and he loves his veggies.

Monkey bear slept through the night at 12 weeks and hasn't stopped since.  My buddy still wakes up more nights than he sleeps through.

My buddy can be covered head to toe in all sorts of dirt, grime, and food without noticing anything.  If monkey bear gets so much as a drip of ice cream in her dress, she must change instantly.

When we are out and about, Monkey bear sticks to my buddy for the emotional safety while he is busy running off on his own not caring if anyone is close by.

Monkey bear will push a baby in a swing for 15 minutes and love every minute.  My buddy loves a baby for about 27 seconds then hits him on the head.

My buddy wakes up with a smile and is off and running instantly.  Monkey bear wakes up grumpy and is "too tired to walk down the stairs."

The list goes on and on.  I wonder if there was another sibling if they would fall somewhere in the middle or if they'd find their own different. I  love watching their personalities emerge and trying to guess what they will be like as teenagers and adults.