My Brother Did It

While I was at work yesterday, one of my children decided to take a black Sharpie marker to our couch. According to my husband, this is what took place:

Brody: Daddy, something happened.

Mike: What happened, Brody?

Brody: I will show you. (Brody then lead Mike into the living room)

Mike: (Looking around the living room, sees black streaks of a marker on our couch) Who did this, Brody?

Brody: Byron did it.

Mike: Where is the marker?

Brody: Up here. (Pointing to the top of our entertainment center, obviously out of Byron’s reach)

Mike: Let me see your hands.

Brody: (Shows Mike his hands which are streaked with black Sharpie marker) I told you Byron did it.

Mike: I am sorry Brody, but I find that hard to believe. Are you telling me the truth?

Brody: My brother did it.

Playing Cars

Brody is currently attending community preschool and special education preschool. The reason behind his attendance at special education is due to his delayed speech development. Brody has made excellent progress the past year and only continues to amaze us. I remember at this time last year, Brody didn't say more than three words. Now...I cannot even begin to estimate the amount of words in his vocabulary. His grammar still needs work, but we are getting there. It has been a journey.

One of the blessings to the special education preschool sessions is Brody's informational notebook. This notebook contains all updates on his progress...strictly for his special education sessions, which are Tuesdays and Thursdays. I write notes to his "team" about what we work on during the week, and I also convey my concerns about his progress and learning opportunities.

Recently, when I asked Brody what he did on his community preschool day, which was Monday, he told me that he "played cars." When I asked him if that was all he did, he said, yes. I was dumbfounded. Why would I have him go if all he is doing is playing cars? I already had misgivings about the structure and teachers of the community preschool classes, but this only exemplified it further.

I have sent a note to the special education "team" about my fears concerning the community preschool. If Brody is just "playing cars" at school on those days, he would be better off being at home and having Mike work with him on his shapes, grammar, letters and colors. I already feel enough angst as it is and I don't want to have to worry about these issues even further. I really hope it isn't just "playing cars." I really do.

The Worst That Could Happen

My two sons have had H1N1 for two weeks. It is almost over, but the road has been very long in dealing with their illnesses. My husband and I have been unscathed by the virus. I was told by my sons’ pediatrician that the likelihood of anyone born before 1976 contracting the virus is slim. This is due to the fact that there was a strain of the H1N1 virus in the 70s, which most people born before that year were exposed to. They cannot publish this information in any medical reports or convey it to the public due to the lack of conclusive studies. I mean, who would want to be subjected to the virus just for the sake of completing an experiment to verify the existence of truth? Not me; been there and have done that.

Mike is still angst-ridden over his lack of employment. He had a job for three days, but then when they checked his background…they realized that his records had a mark from 1993 and there was no way he could keep working. Really? 1993? Okay…that means that anything I did when I was 20 should follow me for the rest of my life. Interesting. I don’t even want to think of the person I was when I was on the cusp of 21; drinking illegally in bars, carousing… Let’s not talk about that.

Although all of these things bother me, I am fortunate that I have a wonderful husband who still thinks I am the sexiest woman in the world and loves me more than the first day we met, which was five years ago last weekend. I am loved by two adorable “little men” who call me to tell me about their day, or dial the phone just to hear my voice. The completion of my day comes when I am able to hold their tow-headed and auburn heads close to mine and listen to their fluttering breath as I read them a story. If everything else equates to being the worst that can be then I have nothing to complain about.