Memorial Day Photos
So many mornings I leave the house for work, looking at my pretty little girl, looking at the bright sunshine outside, and thinking of the day I'd rather spend with her. Memorial Day morning she woke up around 7:30 and by 8:30 we were on our way to that kind of day. We spent a few lovely hours at the Rose Gardens, introducing TinyE to the flowers, fountains, and unlimited space for rolling. Enjoy the photos.

Tax Dollars at Work

Because she has a diagnosis of Poland's Syndrome, TinyE qualifies for in-home OT courtesy of our school system, part of Early Childhood Special Education Services. Snippets from the website:

The Early Childhood Special Education (ECSE) program serves children birth through age 6 who have identified special education needs. Children qualify for services by meeting state established criteria. The ECSE program consists of four components; The Birth to Three program, The Three to Kindergarten program, the Kindergarten program and The Speech and Language program.

ECSE services are delivered in a variety of settings. Federal Law mandates that education services for our youngest children, those ages birth to three, to the maximum extent possible must be provided in a child's natural environment. Thus the infants and toddlers we serve generally receive their educational program either in their homes or in their child care settings.

Hand surgeon Dr. VH referred us to the Birth to Three program back at our first visit, when TinyE was four months old. Since then, we've gone to outpatient OT once a month, and once a month we get home visits from B-to-3.

Last Tuesday, Sara (Occupational Therapist) and Linda (Special Ed teacher) arrived for their regular B-to-3 visit, only this time Sara brought along some goodies -- a little wooden desk and a large, colorful wedge thingy. (Click the photo up above to see how I arranged her "desk" items... phone, blocks, all part of the Baby Executive series.) The goal is to provide more opportunities for her to play on a higher surface level, either sitting on her bottom at the desk or perched on her knees against the wedge. I think she likes this.

Both Sara and Linda were impressed with her progress, especially as TinyE is motoring around by rolling and can sit up on her own for several seconds at a time. Sara showed us that placing some gentle pressure on TinyE's thighs will help her learn how to "anchor" herself when sitting. (demonstrated by Daddy...click the photo for a better view of that facial expression!)

Final note
Latest splint succombs! TinyVelcro is no match for TinyJaws! Anticipated acquisition of new, custom-made splint: tomorrow.

part I
Acupuncture update.
I'm not being a dreamer here, I really think it's working.

TinyE has had three or four acupuncture sessions in the past 5 weeks, and this week I noticed that she's really using the fingers on her right hand a little more. I'm seeing some independent movement, some intricate touching when she's holding a toy in her left hand and inspecting it with her smaller right hand.

Two days ago I heard the familiar melodic strains of her music toy. When I came out to the front room, her Dad was holding her left arm down against her side and he told her "Show your Mommy what you can do!" Sure enough, she was making all that noise with her right arm, lifting it up and hitting the dangly toys with her right hand.

IT WAS GREAT!

And yesterday, when I was changing her, she lifted her right hand up and POPPED that index finger into her mouth.

She lifted her arm away from her side.
She raised it up.
And she purposefully moved her hand. All of her own free will and determination.

Oh sure, it probably sounds so minimal. But it's not. It's huge. And we're both so proud of her.

part II
TinyE is on the move.
I wish I had a way to show you this. Yesterday, TinyE did something totally new.

As you may know, she's been moving and grooving by rolling her way around the floor. And she really gets around that way. Yesterday she was laying on her back, and all of a sudden ARCHED UP, pushed off with her feet, and JOLTED backwards. She almost caught air, I swear it. It was the funniest thing, and I laughed at her, saying, "WHAT was THAT?!"

She did it again -
Arch, push, fly back.
Arch, push, fly back.

Always in a quick but kind of alarming motion. Makes me afraid she's going to snap her neck, but she was pretty delighted with her new trick. And she was covering ground that way, head-first, on her back.
This could get very interesting, very quickly.

Lessons for my daughter.

Dear sweetheart. Your body? Your blueprint for growth and maturity? Let's assign some labels to it:
—Over-romanticized
—Pain in the neck
—Nuisance
—No point to it
—Endure it
—No reason you need it

All those phrases listed above? Compliments of a single news story from today's yahoo headlines. About how wonderful it is that now the pharmaceutical industry makes it possible for women to eliminate that "over-romanticized, nuisance, pain-in-the-neck" COMPLETELY NORMAL thing called a period.

Straight to the point, I despise the way the media tells women they should feel about their bodies…their normal, healthy bodily processes.

Will parents ever sit down with their young sons and tell them that erections and wet dreams are the "curses" they have to "endure" in order to become young men? Insurance companies, pharmaceutical labs, and lobbyists are all working very hard to ensure that men over the age of 70 can still get it up. And now, they want new generations of women to ingest more drugs, month after month, under the guise of convenience and control.

What is the benefit of assigning shame and despair to a natural body process?

** News Flash **
Fingernails grow – clip 'em.
Snot runs – wipe it.
Eat food – poop it.
Drink water – pee it.

Get a period – RUN FOR THE HILLS! Hide it from all society! And for the love of God, see a pharmacist and get rid of it!

Does anyone else see the lunacy here?

I work closely with the fools who write this stuff. I already understand it's all about creating perceptions in your desired target market, making them run out and buy the perceived solution, and making a nice big profit for the companies who run the show. At least when TinyE starts asking questions, we can talk about all the sides to the story.

Peanut.

TinyE snoozing in her "peanut shell" sling, as worn by Mom.

I admit it, I'm sentimental. I'm sentimental for five minutes ago; I'm sentimental looking at photos that were taken today. Every day I still feel so lucky to have TinyE with us. Some nights when I'm holding her I try to breathe in the moment and pretend it will last forever.

The other night, I snuck into her room to check on her. There she was, jackknifed against the corner of her crib, breathing those deep sighs that come with the best of sleep. I picked up her to give her a late night bottle (re: my ticket to avoiding a 2am wake up call), and her small body was like a big heavy bag of sand in my arms.

Right then and there, I wished she could stay that way. I wished that she would always feel like the center of our universe; always know that her needs would be met; forever be a little baby, safe with the knowledge that she will always be warm, fed and loved.

Right now she's such a sponge; always ready and willing to soak up all the attention and adoration she can get -- and feisty when that doesn't happen. I know someday she'll grow up, someday she'll want to walk on her own without us getting too close.

We had a really nice Mother's Day weekend. The Peanut Shell was a gift I got for both of us. I swear, five minutes in that thing and she's out like a light -- the deepest sleep you've ever seen. And she wakes up sweaty with her hair all fuzzy and mussed - it's wonderfully cute.


We also celebrated by introducing her to rice cereal, which has turned out to be popular with the cats as well (they get the leftovers). Contrary to the picture, she really does enjoy it. At least, that's how I interpret the panting that occurs when I get out the bowl and spoon.

Big Day Yesterday.
To be fair, we were kind of dreading yesterday. TinyE had a 6-month pediatrician appointment in the afternoon, and a few days before that we received a reminder call about her follow-up appointment with the hand surgeon -- scheduled for that same morning. At the same time, our Occupational Therapist had suggested that we use our next meeting with the hand surgeon to get TinyE fitted with a thumb splint.

In anticipation of a long day, I packed three bottles, a spare sleeper (for TinyE, not me), several toys and Squishy Turtle and Friends (the book). Here's a timetable roundup of the day:

Time we left the house: 9:40am.
Check-in at the children's hospital: 10:20 (exactly on time)
Height and weight check: 10:30 (so far, so good).
Called back to see the hand surgeon: 11:10am
Time when the hand surgeon came in: 12:00
Number of times it took to get a good xray of TinyE's right arm: 1 (hallelujah!!)
Check-in with rehab therapies for splinting: 1:00
Time we left the children's hospital: 2:00
Time we got to the pediatrician: 2:25 (right on time again!)
Time we got home: 3:30.

Plus:
Napping time for Ramona, all day: 20 minutes while in transit from the hospital to the pediatrician's office
Number of bottles we actually used: One
Diaper changes: Two
Outfit changes: None

Now, for the details that really matter.

Update from the hand surgeon
Dr. VH was clearly impressed with TinyE's development, especially the way she's moving and using her right arm and hand. The Xrays showed measurable bone growth along with some very obvious growth plates (the origin of present and future growth). Of course, we already knew this because her arm IS noticeably larger than when she was born. Summary: her right arm and hand will always be smaller, but they WILL grow. Very good news. Our next checkup is in November, after TinyE's first birthday.

About the splint
As stated earlier, the OT recommended a thumb splint that will only be worn at night... the objective is to stretch out that thumb, which is usually pretty tight next to the hand. We came home with two versions, one is a soft purple, the other is a more typical hard splint. The soft purple splint fits right over Tiny E's thumb, and the instant it was on TinyE popped her thumb in her mouth and started sucking.













It was great to see, because that's something she usually struggles with. Unable to extend her thumb, she ends up frantically sucking the side of her hand. But with the splint, she got that thumb right in her mouth. And she was clearly delighted by it.

Don't know how the splint will work out -- when I went in to get her last night at 1am, it had wriggled off and was no longer doing its job. We might have to try the hard splint for a while, or just try using it during the day during supervised play time.

Six-month stats
Height: 27-3/4". 95th percentile for height!
Weight: 16.7 pounds
Dr. G's comments:
"She's a lean machine."
"I think she'd be crawling if that right arm was longer. But she may end up doing an army crawl."

And in conclusion
What a wonderful baby. All the poking and prodding, all the new faces and places, and ALL day long without her typical napping, followed by three vaccinations at our last stop of the day.

What did she do when she got home?













She roared with laughter, burst into smiles and giggles, and rolled around the floor with sheer glee. She went to bed with some minor fussing and only woke up once during the night. Such innocence -- she clearly hasn't embraced the philosophy of "Hey! I had a long day, stay outta my way!"

No, she was simply happy to be home.

I like tags.

Blue jean baby.
Different day, different outfit. Same book, same fascination.

Dad was here.

I stood in the backyard and tapped on the bathroom window, a cup of quickly-cooling coffee in my hand. The sun was warm and comforting on my back.

My sister's face appeared in the window. I held up my coffee cup and said,"Just checking out the yard." She nodded at me. "Did you know he has hostas?" I shouted, my voice a little louder than necessary.

"Yes," she said.

"I want some."

"Okay." Her face disappeared back into the bathroom.

I turned around and looked back at the yard, and I realized I had just used the present tense in reference to our Dad.

He has hostas. Well, actually, he HAD hostas.

This is our fourth or fifth trip down to the house together, since Dad died in January. Last month, I privately noted that the timing was good, because the dawning of Spring eases the pain as we air out the house, clean out dusty crawlspaces, and pack garbage bags full of memories.

He HAD hostas.

The backyard is a collage of memories as I walk around it. There's the hill where we played Little House on the Prairie. There's the corner where Mom let me plant my own flower garden. There's the spot where we buried Ching. Oh yeah, the root that I always tripped over.

There's the cement block that used to hold the tether ball pole. I remember when Dad poured it -- I can still see where he helped us make imprints of our small hands.

Hey, the section of the neighbor's yard where they kept their big dog Eli. I bet the new occupants don't even know what that space used to be.

I walk around the yard, just like Dad used to do when he came home from work. Except I'm holding coffee instead of beer.

It's hard to imagine leaving it all behind, but it's so good to have. Dad never sold the house after we moved out and on our own. He always said, "This is your home. This is what you'll come back to." He was right.

I hope that when my daughter grows up, she feels the same way about her backyard. And she'll know that the hostas came from her Grandpa's yard.

And now something completely different.

TinyE had her first encounter with eastern medicine today.

Personally, I looked into acupuncture and Chinese herbs after nearly 3 years of traditional western medicine failed to relieve my symptoms of reflux (chronic throat pain and laryngitis). A variety of medications, invasive testing (i.e. wearing a tube down my nose into my stomach for 24 hours) and even stomach surgery resulted in only sporadic, brief relief (all for a pretty penny, of course).

After the failed surgery, I was ready for anything. And within two weeks of acupuncture treatments and drinking (horrid) herb tea twice a day, my voice started to return and the pain was significantly diminished. I became a true, grateful believer.

Fast forward – I still have occasional treatments to keep the symptoms in check, and at this point in my life acupuncture has played a significant role in several areas of my health. So it hit me, when I was sitting there full of needles at my last treatment: what about TinyE?

It seemed so obvious, and I almost cried thinking that I've wasted six months by not doing it sooner. She's getting bi-weekly therapy from professionals and twice-daily therapy from her Daddy, all with the goal of improving motor function, range of motion and strength in her right arm and hand. It's a matter of muscles, nerves and doing what we can to stimulate growth and development in that arm.

If acupuncture is about opening energy channels, and if it's worked for me, why not her?

TinyE's Dad was hesitant at first, but I told him that I've seen other babies in the office for treatment. And I suggested that if she has a bad experience and we don't feel comfortable with it, we won't pursue it.

Unfortunately, timing her 9:00 appointment around morning nap and morning bottle was a bit tricky. And to top it off, she decided to wake up a half hour early today.

Still, we got to the office on time and TinyE delighted everyone she encountered. The doctor looked at her arm and we talked about what we're doing with therapy and the associated goals. Then, it was time for her treatment.

The wonderful thing about babies, of course, is they have no pre-conceived notions like "AHHHHH! NEEDLES!!!!!" So the first needle went in, for just a moment, and was then withdrawn. (Treatment for adults consists of leaving the needles in for 20-30 minutes, but babies only need minimal stimulation to achieve the same results, with their pure little systems.)

TinyE looked a little perplexed.

With the second, third and fourth needles, there was a bit more squirming and some tears.

Now – I know from experience, when I've got muscle tightness or some real blocked energy, the needles sting a little bit more. It can also create a sharp pulling sensation when the needle comes out – almost like the energy is bursting out of a tiny dam, where it's been built up. It doesn't necessarily hurt, it just feels weird. And I bet that would be alarming if you didn't understand what was happening. I think that may be what TinyE experienced when the needles stimulated her joints.

I feel awful that she cried, but she sure didn't cry as much as she did with vaccinations.

Tonight, Dad and I will assess. I really want to give it a shot – at least six sessions. And I admit, part of me is wishing for a miracle.

One day I want to wake up, walk in, and find that she's moving her arm and hand just as well as the other one. And I want to see her holding toys and reaching and grasping without any sign of weakness. It makes me want to try almost anything.

But mostly I want her to be as happy and healthy as she can be. And whatever happens, we'll be there for her.

I'll let you know how it goes.