Category: life

early intervention: getting in (part 1)

Yesterday, Phoebe and I made our last appearance at the play group we’ve been attending since January. I’m sad that we won’t be going back. Phoebe loved it.

It actually wasn’t just your average play group, though. It was part of Early Intervention services that Phoebe was receiving for a speech delay. As of last Monday, it was official that Phoebe would no longer qualify: she no longer has a delay.

I’ve wanted to write about our experiences for a while, in part because I think it’s good to have stories out there for people who may be concerned about what it means to be qualify for Early Intervention services. I’ve also found the process quite interesting, as a linguist. Plus it’s been something big going on in my life as a parent, too.

It turns out I have quite a bit to say, so this post will be just the start. (Also, I have to get to bed. It’s after 1:00 am now.)

———————–
Way back at the end of November, I wrote about how we were going to have an assessment to see about a possible language delay for Phoebe. The pediatrician was concerned that Phoebe wasn’t speaking often. I resisted, being sure that Phoebe was just taking her time. And then decided that, while I knew more about language development than your average mother (and probably more than the pediatrician, even), I wasn’t qualified to make an assessment.

I told people back then that I was about 85% sure that Phoebe wouldn’t need services. A funny number that.

As it turned out, Phoebe did qualify for services.

The initial assessment was actually quite a lot of fun. A team of specialists came over to our house: a case manager, a developmental specialist, and a language specialist. They ran a bunch of tests, which actually involved playing a bunch of games. Phoebe had a fun time. She was cooperative and remarkably at ease for having strangers around asking her questions. While we’d worried that she would clam up, she spoke quite a bit for what was her norm at the time.

As the core of the assesment process, they gave an approximate age level, in months, for a vareity of developmental areas: fine motor skills, gross motor skills, self care, cognitive abilities, receptive language and expressive language, and probably a couple of others that aren’t coming to mind just now. Phoebe was 21 months at the time of the assessment, and she tested right around age level for a few things, and several months above age level for a few more. Her receptive language skills were remarkably high, testing at 27 months. 6 months above age level! (And they don’t necessarily push the tests to the limits, once they establish that there is no delay.)

But for expressive language, measuring what she would actually say, she was scored at around 16 months. Almost a full year behind her receptive language score. Also, it meant that her expressive skills were below her age level. A 5 month delay, in fact, which qualified her for Early Intervention services.

While we had some doubts, we decided that if this was something that could benefit Phoebe, we should take advantage. We had heard that such services were generally very positive, and that even if they did not help, they were very unlikely to actually harm or hinder. We would be having weekly one-on-one visits with a specialist, and could also attend a weekly toddler group.

Things got going slowly due to the time of year. The offices were closed for a couple of weeks at the end of December, people went on vacation, and January arrived before we started services.

—–
To be continued…

bucketful of blues

bucket of blueberries
bucket of blueberries

Okay, so I’m cranky tonight. It was a long day. Generally it should have been a good day. We went blueberry picking in the morning, and then went out for pizza and ice cream in the morning.

But this potty training business? It’s a royal pain. And frustrating as all hell. That chart I showed off recently? We’re still working on filling it with stickers. There is one spot left. One freakin’ little spot.

It was recommended to me by a developmental specialist¹ that we give some sort of additional reward after getting a certain number of stickers for successful potty training. For more motivation.² So I thought, sure, let’s do that. So I said we could go and buy a new toy once Phoebe had filled in the whole chart. As of last night, there were 3 slots left. I was sure, sure, we’d manage to accomplish the goal by the end of today. Here it is Saturday. We were going to be at or near home all day. Then we could swing by some place in the afternoon to get a toy. By naptime, we had added two more stickers. I was already planning out our excursion. We’d go for a toy, and pick up some dinner at Wholefoods.

But it was not to be. Phoebe kept her big girl underwear clean and dry, holding out for the time when we would next put on a diaper. Which we finally did when we decided to go out for pizza and ice cream after 7:00, when it was clear that we weren’t going to get to go toy shopping.

It’s rough, because Phoebe was at daycare all week, which led to a bit of a setback. I had her go 4 days instead of the usual 3, so that I could make some progress with my own research project. But the daycare provider doesn’t have time to sit with her in the bathroom, or follow her around watching for “signs”. And the trick we’ve used at home of having Phoebe wear underwear also isn’t fair for daycare, as it does involve a certain amount of extra cleanup. And vigilance.

And lest that stunning sticker chart makes it look easy to motivate with stickers, let me explain that each and every one of those stickers involved an investment of time and energy. There was a lot of coaxing and cajoling. Sitting and holding hands. Sitting and comforting. Running to the bathroom for false alarms. Sitting and singing. Cleaning up. Changing underwear and clothing. Not to mention lots and lots of forced cheerfulness when I’ve wanted to just say “screw it,” and let her wear diapers as long as she wants. Even if that means till she’s 12.

I do have to remind myself that we’ve made some great progress. As much work as it’s been, it does seem to be working. Phoebe has used the potty successfully every day for the past 8 days, whereas previously we’d had weeks at a time without output.

And then having this face to look at helps a lot:

Phoebe has blueberry eyes.
Phoebe has blueberry eyes.

———————
¹ I saw her during Phoebe’s recent assessment for early intervention services. I’ll hopefully write about that soon. The short story (so as not to leave you hanging) is she has been receiving services, but no longer qualifies.
² Also known as bribery.

weekend productivity

This has been a pretty crazy weekend. (It’s about 1:30 on Sunday night, or Monday morning. Does that still count as weekend?)

I’ve had this wild fantasy that Phoebe might be out of diapers by the time the new kid arrives. And as is the usual way, time has been running away from me. Less than 7 weeks left till my due date…

I’ve hoped to find some time to really work with her, but John and I have both been so busy with work, and travelling so much, we haven’t seen much of a window in our calendars. But this weekend looked like a window. 3 days in a row with no travel, no outside commitments. And what better way to spend the Fourth of July! So I decided we needed to dive in with the potty training. (Ooh, bad imagery.) Of course, I hadn’t really planned on this also being a weekend of a big work crunch. Let’s just say that after 3 straight days of intensive potty training and 3 straight late nights of document editing and formatting, I’m pretty beat.

But look! We made a chart! And I’ve realized that the stickers don’t just motivate Phoebe, they encourage me. This chart represents a whole lot of work, but also, a whole lot of progress.¹

Also, Phoebe seems to have developed some pretty amazing manual dexterity and fine motor skills. One of her favorite activities now is folding paper. We have a pile of thin strips of paper that came as packaging for something, and I folded a few accordion-style while Phoebe played with toys. (Because I’m fidgety.) She is now able to fold them too, and quite quickly and well. And she loves to. It’s been one of things to keep her occupied while spending time on the potty. (And there has been a lot of time on the potty.) Now, can anyone suggest a market for accordion-folded quarter inch wide paper strips? We could start a one-toddler sweatshop.

———-
¹Maybe this is what I need for my degree requirements. Read an article, and get a smiley face sticker. Design an experiment, and get a puffy Hello Kitty sticker!²

² Funny to find myself using footnotes. Footnotes have been a major pain in the ass for formatting this proposal I’ve been helping with. Also images and their captions. Word really sucks, you know?

in real life

As I was saying, we just got home from a grand trip out to California to visit my sister and mother. I hope to share a bit more about the trip soon, but as Jen went and wrote some lovely things on her blog, I wanted to share a bit about our Monday-night visit, too.

Because, you see, I got to meet Jen (of one plus two), someone who I have long admired (or perhaps hero-worshipped) from afar. Since I won’t be able to go to BlogHer, where Jen and other fine bloggy folks will be gathering next month, and since Jen will be moving to Belize in a few short months, I felt compelled to make the effort to stalk Jen in person while I had the chance. Happily, she was open to being stalked, and even invited us over for dinner.

Jen is just as warm and beautiful and down-to-earth and magnificent as you might gather from reading her blog. And M and J were equally wonderful and charming. But I got to learn more than that. Jen is also a damn fine cook, and served up some tasty gnocchi with home-made pesto, some fantabulously delicious oven-roasted vegetables, and garlic bread made from bread that she baked herself. The littler diners were served a classic grilled cheese dinner (crust removed upon request) and a big bowl of strawberries. (Phoebe may have eaten more than a few strawberries.)


Phoebe and M, frightfully cute together.

Ten o’clock rolled around before we noticed, with our little ones romping and cavorting around us, up well past their bed-times. We stayed later than we’d planned, caught up in comfortable conversations, sitting on the living room floor. We talked about life and work: kids and travel and family, friends and blogging and bloggy friends, non-profits and language and disaster recovery. And a dozen other topics that I can’t even recall.

This was the first time I have met someone in person who I’d previously only known online. It wasn’t at all awkward, though. Instead, it felt like we were old friends, just picking up the conversation where we’d left off last. Even though, before this meeting, I could have passed Jen on the street without ever recognizing her.

I’ve thought quite a bit recently about the distinction people sometimes make between online friends and real-life friends. I’ve realized that the distinction is remarkably fuzzy, because the people behind the blogs I read are unquestionably real people. The joys and pains and tidbits they live and share are real, and they affect me in real ways. Through our conversations, the friendships become real.

Of course, it’s hard to beat the pleasure of getting together with friends in person. Especially when there is real food involved. (So I hope to meet more of you out there, too. I might even cook.)

home again, home again

We’re back home now, after our week-long trip to California. It was a good trip, but tiring, and I’m glad not to be having any more big trips on the horizon.

I have some work deadlines looming now, so I can’t write much till I get a few things done. But here’s a picture to distract from the continuing lack of content:

(Yes, we did let Phoebe drive the rental car. But we didn’t let her get on the freeway.)

where I’ve been, where I am, where I’m going to be

I’ve been feeling a bit guilty about my frequent online absences again. I have lots to write about, but…you know the drill. I’ve been reading blogs, but once again, rarely can find the time/energy/coherence to comment. I’m sorry if I haven’t appeared to visit lately. I’m still visiting, just stealthily. I get dressed up in a ninja costume and everything.

In case anyone is wondering, here’s what I’m up to these days:

  • We just got back last night from a weekend trip to my in-laws. The way down was harrowing. It’s usually 3 and half to 4 hours, but took 6 due to traffic. Phoebe was awake for the first 5 of those. The visit was good, but (as always) led to very little time to even think.
  • I’m heading to California in less than 48 hours for a family reunion in honor of my mother’s 70th birthday. (This will make the third long trip by air in less than 2 months. Yes, that is too much.) I’m excited about the trip, but I know it will be tiring, too. I also have to find some time to do a few party-related tasks I’ve signed up for. (Right now, for example, a box of photos sits beside me on the couch, demanding some sort of action to become an album or slide show.)
  • I would have liked to have taken it easy today, but my day was pretty scheduled. Mondays I take Phoebe to her early intervention play group and one-on-one meeting. Phoebe loves going, and I hate for us to miss a day. Especially as we’re going to get booted out in a few weeks due to Phoebe’s delinquent and criminal tendencies. No, wait. Due to her startlingly rapid progress in expressive language.
  • Then I have my violin lesson Monday afternoons. I usually try to do some stuff (and practice the violin) before my lesson, but today I could only manage to nap. This probably had mixed results on my performance during the lesson, but was likely the better choice for my health and sanity.
  • Tomorrow I have a doctor’s appointment first thing in the morning after I take Phoebe to daycare. Doctor’s visits are becoming more frequent now.
  • Then I drive to Boston for a work meeting. I’m hoping to make some progress on designing an experiment before the meeting. Which means tonight.
  • Work deadlines have still been pressing. I’m feeling a bit panicky about reaching my own academic goals before my impending “confinement.” I’d really hoped not to be working frantically right up to my labor. My goals of getting to ABD (all but dissertation) by mid-July have already been adjusted somewhat, but I haven’t quite decided how.
  • Which reminds me. I’m not quite sure when I’ll be finishing this here degree I’ve been working towards, though I still intend to finish. It’s pretty common for people to ask when I expect to be done. Lately, I’ve had this answer: “I’m expecting further delay.” I think that has a nice ring to it. Maybe the little guy will end up being named Further Delay.

    • chocolate: it’s what’s for breakfast

    Tomorrow I will eat a chocolate bar for breakfast.

    It’s the day I’m going to get to have my glucose test at the doctor’s office. This is the test to screen for gestational diabetes. Usually, one is made to drink a seriously syrupy “drink” that is reminiscent of soda syrup without the addition of carbonated water. Then an hour later, they draw some blood to check blood sugar levels.¹ I was quite pleased to learn that, at this medical group, I can opt to eat a Hershey’s bar instead of drinking the nasty syrup. So around 9:00 tomorrow morning, I’ll break my fast with chocolate. Sweet. (I must bring my own chocolate, though.)

    I must confess that chocolate in the morning is not an entirely novel experience for me. You see, if there is chocolate in the house, I will be nibbling at it no matter what time of day or night. And recently there has been quite a lot of chocolate in the house.

    About a month and a half ago, Dragonfly (who is living in Germany) offered to send a bundle of German chocolate to a randomly selected commenter on her 100th post. And I was that lucky commenter. Here is some of the bounty I received a couple weeks later:


    This is the photo that she posted on her blog. There was actually quite a bit more, too. I meant to take a picture of it, but mysteriously most of it…um…disappeared. (Did I mention that it was weeks ago?) And it was some pretty wonderful chocolatey goodness.

    I have to say, getting a package of chocolate in the mail is a real treat. And I would like to pass along the experience. I mentioned that I managed to stop by a grocery store to load up on chocolate during the last few hours of my Brazil trip. And you, yes you, could get some of this bounty. I plan on selecting a random commenter to be the recipient of a stash of assorted Brazilian chocolates. All you have to do is leave a comment on this post by midnight on Thursday, June 5th, and I will enter you in the drawing. To make things a bit more interesting, leave the name of a chocolate bar (or other chocolate treat) in your comment.

    Oh, that reminds me. Speaking of chocolate and comments. My chocolate-themed list has been getting some attention from a horde of bored 12-year-olds (judging from the content of the comments). Or perhaps mostly from the same 12-year-old, judging from the IP addresses. What did I do to deserve such attentions?

    ———————————
    ¹ I actually failed my first glucose test when I was pregnant with Phoebe. It was very annoying. I have a rant about it that I buried away when I realized that the footnote was getting as long as the rest of the post. But a quick word of advice or anyone faced with an upcoming glucose test: don’t load up on carbohydrates right before the appointment.

    Brasil, dia 6 e 7: out and about in São Paulo, and out

    Here is the last installment about my recent trip to Brazil. Sorry it’s so long, but I thought I should wrap up rather than drag things on. I also have some pictures from the last 2 days posted.

    Dia 6:

    I ended up choosing a moderately nice hotel in a moderately nice part of town. I felt like I splurged a bit, but the cost was only 129 Reais per night, which I think converts to around $80 (US dollars) a night.

    I had grand plans to sleep in Saturday morning, which were disrupted by what sounded like a gaggle of teenage girls in the hallway from 7:00 on. I took my time getting going, anyhow, and went down to breakfast at 9:00. I was good and ready to eat, having actually skipped dinner the night before, almost unthinkable after my week-long binge of large meals every 2 to 2.5 hours.

    A portion of my café da manhã: café com leite, pastries, watermelon, papaya and persimmon.

    I went back to my room afterwards, and mostly lounged till it was time to head out for my 1:00 rendezvous with C, the student from the conference. Our plan was to go for lunch and then do some touristy and museum-oriented things afterwards. We met at the metro station from the previous night, about a 15 minute walk from my hotel. She was a bit late, and told me that her boyfriend would be meeting us, too. Once he showed up, we headed down to a vegetarian restaurant that he’d heard was nearby.

    Lunch was very pleasant, and the restaurant (called Cheiro Verde, or “green smell”) overlooked a park across the street. We each got panquecas, pancake-like things filled with vegetables and baked in little ceramic dishes with gobs of cheesy sauce. Mine had some mandioquinha in it, a tasty yellow tuber, along with other more familiar vegetables. I also had a fresh juice with orange, papaya and passion fruit. We were treated to some live samba-type percussion music streaming in through the window, from a large group having a lesson in the park.

    After lunch, and a brief stroll to check out the source of the music, we hopped on a couple of buses¹ to go to Ibirapuera Park, where we planned to visit the Afro-Brazilian museum. Since we started lunch late and hadn’t rushed, it was a few minutes after 4:00 by the time we got to the door of the museum. To discover that they had just changed the hours to close at 4:00, instead of the 5:00 that was posted on their website.

    We dropped by the MAM (Museu de Arte Moderna, or Modern Art Museum) instead, also in the park, which had an exhibit of contemporary Brazilian and Japanese art, which I quite enjoyed.² (Interestingly, there was also a Contemporary Art museum in the park, which appeared to be hosting a modernist exhibit.)

    It got dark promptly at 6:00 p.m., and as there is virtually no twilight, it was very dark when we left the museum to head back to the bus. C and her namorado invited me back to their home for dinner, and I accepted in spite of being tired. They ordered out for pizzas, one of which had corn as the topping, and C made some fresh juice (acerola and then star fruit). We hung out chatting, eating and watching a bit of TV, and then they were kind enough to call a cab for me.

    Day 7
    The next day I spent running around by myself. My flight was at 9 p.m., and I planned to head for the airport by 4. I wanted to head to some outdoor markets and try for a bit of shopping, as I hadn’t managed any so far. I went to the market held under the MASP (The São Paulo Art Museum), but it turned out to be all antiques, most of which appeared to be European and North American. And also expensive.

    The feirinha under the MASP.

    I then hopped on the subway to go to the Praça República, for a large outdoor market known for crafts and stones. I bought some stuff from a few stalls in rather a hurry, and then rushed back to the hotel to pack the new items and check out by 2:00.

    Since I still had a couple of hours, and didn’t want to waste more time than needed sitting around, I left my bags at the front desk and I went out for one last jaunt. I hadn’t eaten lunch yet, and I wanted to stop by a grocery store. I strolled up to and along Avenida Paulista, in search of a place to eat. I ended up having a rather disappointing (and slow) lunch at a lanchonete with outdoor seating across from the MASP. (I had a grilled cheese sandwich and some overpriced french fries, but also some tasty fresh coconut juice.) It was later than I planned when I headed back to the hotel, but I did still stop by a small grocery store on my way, and loaded up on Brazilian chocolates and goodies for gifts.

    I was going to take an airport bus from another nearby hotel.³ The hotel called me a cab⁴, and when I mentioned I would be taking the airport bus, the cab driver offered me a deal to take me directly to the airport. Things were slow due to it being Mother’s Day, he said, so he offered a fare of 60 Reais instead of the usual 90. I took him up on it, and thus got the airport much faster, and before dark even. It gave me a chance to take a few more photos on the way out of town.


    —–

    The last 2 days made a good end to my trip, and made me feel more like I was in Brazil rather than just being at a conference hotel. Also good for me was that I spoke almost no English the last 2 days. My Portuguese was starting to come back. (However, it did get harder for me to find words as the day got later.)

    —–

    ¹ The public buses made for a wild ride, by the way. It was a bit like being on a rollercoaster without being strapped in. Happily, there were no upside-down loops.

    ² You can see some photos and short movies I took at the exhibit. You can also see a photo of me looking pregnant in that batch, in case you are curious.

    ³ I had toyed with the idea of taking the subway to a bus station, but I was pretty beat from running around. And realized it would be insanity to try to lug my luggage up the long hill to the Metro stop, followed by the 3 subway trains I’d need to take, and who knows what other obstacles.

    ⁴ “You’re a cab!” they said…

    Brasil, dia 5: heading to São Paulo

    As promised (or threatened), here is the next installment of details of my recent trip to Brazil. (In case you haven’t been by in a while, I’ve posted a bunch of things, such as day 1, day 2, days 3 & 4, and day 4.5.)

    Day 5
    Friday was the last day of the conference, and my roommates and I arrived somewhat late after sleeping until the late hour of 7:30. There were more talks, lots more eating, and a final discussion session that was pretty interesting. (It largely turned into a debate between about 6 people, though, with the other 100+ just watching the show.)

    My plan was to take the bus to São Paulo with a student, C, who was working at the conference. (She had also offered to show me around São Paulo a bit on Saturday afternoon.) It turned out to be later than she expected when she was ready to go, but a friend of hers did give us a ride to the bus station. There was a crazy long line at the station for bus tickets, and we weren’t able to get a bus until 8:20 p.m. It was quite a big bus station, with dozens of different bus companies and lines going all over the country.

    The buses were all running a bit late, and the platform was crowded with people waiting to go to other smaller cities around the state, along with their copious bags and large boxes of things likely purchased at Campinas’ giant malls.

    (Also, as I may have mentioned, not a whole lot of tourists go to Campinas. And waiting out on the crowded platform for the bus, I may have stood out as non-local. At one point, I noticed this guy who appeared to be taking a picture of me with his cell phone. He looked away sheepishly when I looked his way. What, don’t they get a lot of pasty-faced pregnant foreigners at the bus station?)

    The bus was late arriving in Campinas, and then there was moderately unexpected traffic once we reached the São Paulo limits after 10 p.m. São Paulo, in case you are not aware, is a freakin’ gigantic city. With lots and lots of people. And lots and lots of cars. And lots of trucks passing through, which were apparently the source of the traffic jam.

    After arriving at the São Paulo bus station, we took the Metro. We had to change trains a couple of times. My new friend C went with me to my Metro stop, and helped me get a cab before heading to her own Metro stop. Seeing as it was 11:00 at night, I was glad not be left standing alone, exhausted and largely clueless, not to mention loaded down with my baggage, on a busy street corner. It was 11:30 or so when I checked in at my hotel, and I was on the tired side.

    —-
    Still to come: my visit in São Paulo.

    I also have just posted a bunch of photos from my trip. Like this one of the bottomless basket of pão de queijo offered for the conference coffee breaks.

    The bottomless basket of pão de queijo