Every February You'll Be My Valentine

On Saturday, February 12th we had Benji's 3rd birthday party.  One of the pediatric anesthesiologists I work with told me about her husband's dog sledding business, and I thought it would be so fun for a winter birthday.  Last year we had to have his party indoors, because there wasn't enough snow to go sledding.  This year was perfect--it was sunny and about 40 degrees, but there was still snow on the ground at that elevation.  We went to one of Neal's favorite places to take the dogs, a golf course in Heber City.

There was a meet & greet with the dogs before the ride.  The dogs are just easy going and sweet and SO GOOD with the kids.  They loved it.

I took the picture above before I figured out that the sand/snow setting on my camera worked a lot better.  It turned out okay with some Picniking.

They had a little circle of chairs outside, with a fire in the middle, and Neal had his trailer.  We spent most of the time outside, since it was such a lovely day.

Benji loved the fire.

Tessie adored the dogs!!

The first ride was for the kids.  I was afraid Benji would launch himself off, so thanks for being his seatbelt, Lex.  There's no way I would have fit in that little sled!

Passengers on the kids ride

Neal took Nanny and Ella on a second ride.  I'm glad they got to go!

Neal with Nanny & Ella on the sled

I got to ride on the snowmobile ahead of the sled, so I sat backwards and took a TON of pictures.  I didn't expect many of them to turn out, but most of them did.  This one isn't great, but it shows the deer we saw.

Deer we saw on the ride

I love how happy the dogs are!

We had pizza and homemade cupcakes and presents.  BTW, Benji was more interested in the cupcakes than the gifts.

I opened Benji's gifts for him, while Noah supervised.

After that, we went home.  It was a bit of a drive: about an hour from SLC, and 2-2.5 hours from Logan.  And, unfortunately, Granny's van overheated on the way back.  Sarah wasn't feeling well and couldn't come to the party, but she was able to give Rebecca, Ella & Mia a ride back to Logan, while Mom rode in the tow truck.  Again, thank heavens for AAA.

So thanks to all who came.  It was lovely, and I'm glad we did it.  Happy Birthday to my little valentine.

Show Me How It's Done

I have got to play catch up on my pictures.

2-5 My go-to shoes for winter.  Ugly they may be, but hoo-doggy--they are comfy.

I made this for work; we were supposed to put in valentines for our coworkers. I did a couple of serious ones, though I have to admit I wrote one to our CNAs from "Justin." During our Christmas party white elephant exchange, she ended up getting some Justin Bieber trading cards, and ever since, everyone teases her (in fun) about how much she loves him. So I wrote her a Valentine that said "Thanks for being my #1 fan. XOXO--Justin."

2-6 Heart-Shaped Box.  Not my best work.

This is where I work. In the snow.

2-7 Primary Children's Outpatient Center at Riverton.  It's a good place.

It totally snowed the on the 7th, and it was beautiful on the 8th. I was driving home and thought this would be a cool picture.

2-8 Oh, beautiful for spacious skies

This is a funky tower a few blocks from my house. I'm not sure what its' history is, but it looks cool.

2-9 Murray Laundry Tower

This is not the greatest picture, but I think it turned out pretty cool.  This is the Jordan River Temple.

2-10 When I Look To The Sky

This is a sad face from a very tired boy.

2-11.  How can I help it if I think you're funny when  you're mad?

We had Benjamin's birthday party on Saturday the 12th.  I'll write more about that later, but here's the 365 pic.  I really like the way the sun came through. 

2-12 Celebrate good times.

Here's a slideshow of the festivities. It was a lot of fun, and I took a TON of pictures, thinking that only a few of them would turn out. Amazingly enough, most of them look quite nice.



Okay, that will catch me up through last week. I have a lot to say, just no energy to put into blogging at the moment. Must sleep.

Is This the Real Life

Caught in a landslide
No escape from reality.

This is what's happening chez moi.  Our census at work has been pretty low recently, so I have been 'floating' to other facilities, or working in places other than my home base at Riverton.  I have spent a fair amount of time back at IMC.  It has been fun to see my old friends, and do surgeries I haven't seen in a long time.  But I have been there so often that I'm not special anymore; lots of people think I have come back permanently.  Whatever.  It's a good place, but I'm glad I'm not there full-time.  Not having to work evenings or holidays or take call shifts has made me soft.

1/31 This is where we used to live

This is from Tuesday, and please ignore the mess. It's just a typical day--Glenn Beck on the tele, noisy toys scattered all around, and Benji jumping up and down. I'm not sure why the boy loves to jump, but he has awesome leg muscles because of it.

2/1  On a typical day

I have been very good about cooking this week.  I know it's not a huge accomplishment, but I actually made a real dinner four nights this week; Allen cooked on Thursday, and we went out tonight.  In any case, while I was finished cooking on Tuesday, I walked into the living room, and this is what I found.

2/2  While you were sleeping

That was an incredibly cold day, so I had bundled up Benji with double layers, and a thick sweater in the morning. When I got home from work, he still had on the long-sleeves and the sweater, and shorts. Yeah, awesome.

I ran out of things to photograph in the daylight, so here's more random crap from around the house.  This is my new phone.  It's supposed to be a "Smart Phone," but without a data plan, it's not berry smart.  Even so, Sarah's phone pooped out on her, and I was using her extra phone, because of this incident.  So I gave her the Nokia phone back, and got this one (brand new!) off KSL classifieds for $120.  Not bad, eh?

2/3 A new phone

And I really couldn't think of anything for today, so here's a picture of my little friend.

2/4 "You might as well face it, you're addicted to . . ."

Oh, how I love me some diet coke.  But don't confuse it with "Coca Light," found in Europe.  That stuff's nasty.

Someday You Will See

I think I'm finally ready to write about it.

Autism.

It's official: my sweet little boy is autistic.  


I started noticing when he was about one year old.  He wasn't reaching the expected developmental milestones.  He didn't walk until he was 17 months old.  He'd learn some words, then forget them.  He'd only look me in the eye when I was singing to him.  He wouldn't respond to his name or follow simple commands.  Yes, we have had his hearing checked, and it's fine.

Many of these things he still doesn't do.  He won't sit still in church unless he is physically restrained.  He won't point to something he wants.  He still won't say "Mom" (though we do get the occasional "Dad").  He only has a few words (fewer than 20) he uses consistently, and it's usually just in his babbling that we hear them.  He still puts anything and everything in his mouth.  He is constantly waving, and I'm not sure why.


Allen and I took him to the Children's Center in Salt Lake City last Friday.  Allen had made this appointment several months ago, per my sister Sarah's recommendation.  While there, we met with Dr. Goldsmith, a psychologist, and the director of the Children's Center.  We both filled out several questionnaires beforehand.  We talked about what Benjamin does and doesn't do, how we deal with him, etc., while Benji wandered around Dr. Goldsmith's office, doing his thing (i.e., exploring, taking books and toys off the shelves, tasting all of the crayons, etc.).


At the end, Dr. Goldsmith said that Benji is unquestionably autistic, and has PDD (Pervasive Development Disorder).  At first, it was a relief.  It certainly wasn't a surprise, and it felt nice that it was official.  Then, Dr. Goldsmith started outlining places we need to go, people we need to call, websites we need to visit . . . and it started to hit me.  My child has autism.  There's no more skirting around the issue, saying that we 'suspect he might be,' or that 'he falls somewhere on the spectrum,' or secretly hoping that he's just a late bloomer and he'll eventually grow out of it.  Nope.  He is autistic, and there's nothing I could have done to prevent it.   Dr. Goldsmith recommended that we contact various school districts and government offices for further evaluation and to find out what programs may be available to us, and that it's going to be expensive.  I asked him if there was anything he could do for us at the Children's Center, and he said no; their programs are geared toward children who are more verbal, and Benjamin would feel uncomfortable there.


Since I had to come directly from work, Allen took Benji home, and I went to my car.  And cried.  I'm not one to cry for a long time, but I literally couldn't stop.  It all hit me at that point: the fact that my child may never tell me he loves me, the fact that he may never be able to go to normal schools or serve a mission or get married, as well as the fact that I will never be able to stay at home with my child, because I will be handing over a good portion of my paychecks to people whose sole purpose is to help my child 'be normal.'  Along those lines, I selfishly cried for the loss of my future too: that I will no longer be able to pursue my own goals, because all of my financial, emotional and physical resources will be devoted to him.


I know I'm not a great mother; I have worked outside the home full-time ever since he was born.  I only nursed him for a month, then I couldn't handle it anymore.  We let him watch entirely too much television because we're too wrapped up in our own lives to play with him.  Allen said that we are only guilty if we don't do anything about it.  And that's true, but that's also hard to accept.  And that's part of why I was really very depressed over the weekend.


Allen is handling it much better than I am.  He said that 'this has lit a fire,' and I pray to God it's true.  Allen is so comfortable with our situation that (to me, at least) it seems he has no ambition; he has long-term goals, but zero motivation to actually achieve them.  And it kills me; I feel like I have to drag this family forward if we are to move at all.  But he really has stepped it up, for the past few days, anyway.  He has made several phone calls and spent a fair amount of time researching treatments, etc.  He is trying to change his schedule again so he will be available to take Benjamin to all of his appointments.  That has been nice, because I'm still just trying to process the whole thing.


I'm glad I was able to go to Stake Conference on Sunday: all of the talks were about the importance of families.  One speaker really struck a chord with me.  She's from Mexico, and she hadn't been asked to speak in English for years.  Despite her deliberate and thick accent, her words struck my heart.  She said that life is about helping each other.  In marriage, two people have to try very hard to make things work.  They must share the responsibilities.  Then she said that unconditional love, sacrifice and prayer can bring us closer together, and give us strength and peace.


I have a coworker whose son is also autistic.  Something said to me on Monday also hit me: you have to understand that you can no longer fit your child into your life; you have to figure out how you fit into his.  That's what I'm trying to figure out: my role in my son's life.  I feel like I'm the physical care-taker: I try to cook a healthy dinner (since Allen's definition of lunch is fish sticks and french fries), I try to keep the house in some semblance of order with dishes and laundry and cleaning; I bathe Benji and put him to sleep, then I wake him up at the crack of dawn to take him to the babysitter, and we start the whole routine all over again.  There's not much time in there for nurturing or playing, so I understand that Benji prefers his dad.  It still makes me sad, because I simply don't know what the future holds, or how I'm going to deal with it.  So, for the foreseeable future, I will just do my best to make sure he's healthy, even if he never says my name.