Consolation prize

As suspected, my dalliance with Facebook has put my blog on hiatus. But here's a photo to tide you over.

Giving thanks

I was wondering why I've been thinking about Roxanne's epilepsy more than usual lately. Why I've been tracking the blog of a little boy who had brain surgery yesterday.

Ah. October 10th, 2006. Three years ago today, my life was turned upside down. Roxanne, our beautiful, brand-new baby, only two months old, was having seizures, one after another. She was admitted to the hospital, and I fell down the rabbit hole into a world of doctors, medications, tests, and ultimately, despair. The diagnosis of Infantile Spasms holds little hope of recovery. I had to start accepting the fact that Roxanne might not develop well, if at all, beyond her 2 months.

I look at Roxanne today, and it's easy to minimize how terrifying that time was. She is delightful and funny and loving and wonderful. I have to remember the tranformation that took place to bring her to us today. I have to remember the outpouring of love from friends and family that kept us going. I have to remember to be thankful, every day.

October, 2006

October, 2009

Gah! You never blog anymore!

You're right. I rarely blog these days, but I think that's good news. When life at our house is (dare I say it?) calm, or as mellow as it can be with a 3-year-old, I don't have much to post about. And let's just face it (no pun intended), Facebook is just easier.

Ah, but did I mention that Roxanne turned 3? She totally scored in the cake/singing/candle department: she had a cake at my aunt's house, one at home, and one at our mom's group party. When I celebrated my own birthday about a month later, she sang me happy birthday (how cute is that!?) and blew out my candle, too.

Roxanne is a non-stop talking, singing, question-asking machine. Some questions are easy:

I said, "Put on your jacket, Roxanne."
"Why?"
"Because it's cold outside" (Easy!)

Others make my brain hurt.

Roxanne asked, "Does Anne live there?" (a neighborhood friend)
"No, she doesn't"
"Why not?" (Um. Because she can't be two places at once? Just 'cuz? How do you explain that things just ARE?)

"Why is it raining?" (Dan's son saved me on this one:)
"Because of the water cycle." (Why she accepts that answer is beyond me.)

"Why is Ursula (the villian in The Little Mermaid) bad?"
"I guess she was made that way."
"Why?" (Because the plot needed an evil genius? How does one explain the nature of evil?)

Then there's the ubiqitious, "What are you doing?" that requires me to decide in how much detail I want to describe my actions. It's exhausting, but age-appropriate, and I'm glad for it.

I've been working two days per week consistently for the last year or so, and while I'm at work, Roxanne goes to an awesome in-home daycare in our neighborhood. Our doctor's appointments are at an all-time low, and Roxanne no longer has physical or occupational therapy.

She's been wearing glasses for almost a year now, and seems to be doing well with them. She stopped wearing the patch over the summer, when she got her new pink, bi-focal lenses. The boost in close-vision correction seems to have improved her lazy eye significantly, and hey, those are just cute glasses.

If you didn't already know that Roxanne has epilepsy, or that she had brain surgery, you'd never know. I rarely mention her history to new friends because the issues just don't come up. (Within context, I'm happy to talk about her experiences, but her story is really hers to share.) But Roxanne still has epilepsy, and she still has episodes.

As you may have noticed on TV or in the movies, the definition of seizure is dramatic full-body flopping around. These used to be called grand mal, now called generalized. Roxanne's are infrequent, more subtle, and we are working to eliminate them with medication. So she's good.

News of the cute: Have you heard the new Lady Gaga song, "Paparazzi"? (OK, even if you haven't, say the word aloud -- you'll need it to get the next part.) When Roxanne heard the song on the radio, she said, "She's singing about Roxy?" Yes, it's all about her.

This is where you'd usually see a cute photo, but Blogger isn't letting me upload today. I owe you one.

New glasses

She is the height of optical fashion!

Summer post

I love summer. The weather, the food, the mood. Life is very good here. We took our annual pilgrimage to Illinois to visit Dan's family last month, and it was the best ever.

Here are some summer tidbits:

Roxanne loves playing in our backyard, and particularly enjoys picking the cherry tomatoes in our garden. She yanks one off the stem and pops it in her mouth before she steps out of the bed. Dan and I have yet to taste one, but I imagine they must be pretty tasty.

One day, the gnats were getting really thick, so I told Roxanne it was time to go in.

"Why?" she asked. (for the 4,000th time that day)

"It's getting buggy out here."

"Bugsy?"

I'm sure I corrected her, but thought "bugsy" sounded way better.

***

Overheard at a summer party:
"Roxanne, what kind of chips would you like with your hot dog?"

"Chocolate!"

My kind of girl.

***

Roxanne's review of the 4th of July fireworks:

"Pretty colors. Too loud."

Roxanne cried at the fireworks display until Dan stuck his fingers in her ears.

***

In the car recently, we were playing the "Where's [this person]?" game. When I asked, "Where's Roxanne?" she patted herself. She could have said, "in the car," but instead, she indicated she is where she is. Pretty profound if you think about it.


Here's our chocolate-loving philosopher, eating mulberries that fell from the tree in our yard.

Cheese pups

I'm so used to kids being mean to each other, that I'm stunned when they're nice. If Roxanne gets in another kid's way, she might get pushed over. If she has a toy another kid wants, he or she might steal it. And vice versa. At the preschool age, they want what they want, and they're figuring it all out.

Last week at a local playground, Roxanne saw a couple of boys (who looked about 7 years old or so) sharing a bag of cheese puffs. She sidled right up to them and reached for the bag. Not knowing her, they pulled the bag away, got up and walked away. Roxanne is usually pretty mellow, but on this day, she was really upset. She turned toward me with her saddest face, started to wail, and ran to my lap. The boys, who were nearby, shared a look that seemed to say, "Geez, dude, we made her cry! But they're our cheese puffs!" I don't know if they got a stern look from their mom, but a few seconds later, they came over and offered Roxanne some cheese puffs to calm her tears. I thanked them and took a couple, but she still looked so sad, they insisted we take a few more.

One of my mom friends was nearly in tears herself after watching the cheese puff drama. All the way home, Roxanne talked about how the boys gave her cheese "pups." They were very sweet, but oh, please, I hope she didn't learn to turn on the tears to get what she wants.

Beds, indoor and out.

Remember when it was really hot last weekend? Well, Dan spent a good portion of those sweltering days putting in our garden. I helped in minimal ways, to avoid killing the whole crop. Dan wants to point out that he decided to have a garden long before the Obamas came to town, so he's not just a copy-cat.

Actually, the whole garden thing was my idea, and everybody copied ME. Hey ... this is really good dirt.

In other news, Roxanne has moved from her crib to a big bed! She was just getting too big for her crib -- she often rattled the rails when she would roll over. She seems to have adjusted well, and I must say, seems to be sleeping more soundly. And as you know, I'm a a big fan of sleep.

Toddler bed? Um, no. Double or nothing, baby.

Giggly girl

After spinning around and around, Roxanne says she feels "busy." Silly girl.

Talkies

More News of the Cute:

Until last week, when Roxanne wanted to know Dan's location, she would say, "Daddy is?" That totally made sense to me, because I heard a leading question: Daddy is... (Well? Where is he? Huh?)

So when I finally heard her say "Where's Daddy?" I knew we had reached another linguistic milestone. She also asks, "What you eating?" Go, Roxanne.

***

Roxanne calls herself "you" instead of "me". She'll say, "Give book to you" when she wants you to hand her a book. It's a common pronoun error that kids make, and we've been clarifying with, "Oh, give the book to you? To Roxanne?"

In the car recently, I told Dan to make a U-turn. Roxanne piped up from the backseat: "A Roxanne turn?"

***

Roxanne has a cold, so we've been using a humidifier in her room. She calls it the "fa fa fire".

I asked, "Roxanne, can you say 'hu-mid-i-fier'?"

"Mid-i-fire"

"That's close. HU-midifier."

"HUGE midi-fire"

That'll do.

Caught red-handed

AKA fun with paint.