Tuesday, March 25, 2008

When is My Vacation?

What She Wore: Bright green peasant-style shirt with short sleeves; jeans in a dark wash; beaded gold slides with a wedge heel.

What She Ate: Soup for lunch and for dinner. . . enchiladas. It's been well over a week--I was starting to go into withdrawal.

So. I may have mentioned that I'm tired. Well, I'm still tired and this is a whirlwind of a week.

Today we met with our speech therapist for the first time. She was nice and professional and did weird things where she rubbed Charlie's cheeks, upper lip, and chin. Most therapy looks like voodoo to me, so I won't question these things. It seems to work, so clearly I have no clue. Our immediate goal is for him to start making consonant sounds--specifically buh, puh, and muh. We're supposed to emphasize them when we use them, help him push his lips together, etc. He doesn't like having his upper lip touched, so we're going to have to desensitize him to that a little bit. I'm picturing more silly songs in my future.

Later in the day we went to get fitted for a custom night splint. This sounds pretty fancy, and I'm sure it's not cheap, but it's really just a moldable piece of plastic that helps to keep the thumb on his right hand out instead of tucked under. The ladies at the Hand place absolutely love him: his cute personality, his chubby thighs, and the fact that he was holding his own bottle. That boy of mine is such a charmer. The "hand specialist" said that this was the smallest splint she'd ever made. She also felt that it was good we were starting early, but she wasn't completely convinced he needed it. He does open that hand completely and he rests with his hand unclenched. No matter, it doesn't bother him at all, so we'll use when he's sleeping at night. He wasn't really in the mood for the paparazzi, so I apologize for these crappy pictures. You can see the splint, though.

Finally, I have some work to do. Last week, Charlie's OT cancelled. This week, his PT cancelled. I understand about sick kids, but my dad is losing his mind a bit. He can't stand for Charlie to miss a week of anything. Long story short: he wants me to contact the hospital about adding private physical therapy and maybe more. He's offered to pay our out-of-pocket expenses to get things moving. This is extremely generous because while I do have some money set aside each month for medical, a big chunk of it goes to co-pays, thickener, and medications. His offer will keep us from having to go in the hole to pay for therapy.

So, I'm busy and I'm tired. Tired and busy. I need a vacation, or at least a good night's sleep.