Thursday, March 1, 2012

Mommy's not as smart as she thinks

So I know it's been forever since I've posted, and I really have no excuse, other than IT'S EXHAUSTING BEING ME.  To summarize how things have been going, Teenager has decided that he's had enough of this never-being-sick thing and decided to compensate for all of those I-don't-even-know-what-our-family-doctor-looks-like years with a bad@ss case of kidney stones.  Which has resulted in the need for one, going on two procedures now.  Meanwhile, big C has embarked on some diabolical mission to discover just where Mommy's breaking point is and then dance merrily along the edge.  For the record, he's still in one piece.  So far.

Little C continues to alternately amaze and terrify me with the extent of his progress in therapy.  Some days I'm so proud I could burst, others I am seized with holy-crap-he's-smarter-than-I-am-and-what-am-I-going-to-do panic.  We still have our rough moments (hello, hair salon), but overall, he is laughing in the face of "reasonable expectations of progress."

We also still have our moments of hilarity somewhere in between.  Like practicing our "Negation Mand" protocol - I offered him a pea I was absolutely sure he would not want, in order to prompt him to say, "I don't want it."  Instead, he took it, tried it, then spit it out and looked at me as if I'd just tried to poison him.  So I (reasonably, I thought) assumed when I offered him a piece of similarly despised carrot, he would loudly declare, "I don't want it."

"C, do you want a carrot?"  I asked.

"YES!" he answered, with a delighted smile.

I waited with baited breath as he TOOK THE CARROT...

Maybe I should have been more clear.

Little C: 1
Mommy: 0

We are also practicing "Attention Mands"...namely, getting him to preface requests with "Mommy..." in lieu of whining in order to get my attention.  The first stage of a new protocol is always the hardest.  For me, that is.  In order to make the connection, I pretty much HAVE to give him whatever he asks for when he asks for it correctly.  The first day, I am usually giddy with excitement that he is FOLLOWING PROTOCOL and happy to do this, but by the end of the week, I'm all "what is that noise, and WHY WON'T IT STOP?"  We're still in the early stages of our new protocols, but after tonight's incident, that phase is fading fast.

Little C: Chair.
Me: (ignoring him)
Little C: CHAIR
Me: (ignoring him again)
Little C: Mommy.
Me: Yes, C?
Little C: PUT ME [in the non-booster -seated, kitchen] CHAIR

This is how it's supposed to work, only eventually he's supposed to START with Mommy.  He's still being stubborn about that part.

So, after receiving his prompt and having the she-has-to-do-what-I-want lightbulb go off above his head, he demands to be moved from chair to chair, playing happily for roughly 5.2 seconds after each rotation.  What I don't realize is that he's gradually moving me closer and closer to HIS chair.  The one he eats in every night.

So, after four rotations of, "Mommy.  Put me chair," he lands in his chair.  Then he happily demands, "Mommy. FEED ME CHIPS."  I don't know when I've seen him smile bigger.

Little C: 2
Mommy: Somewhere in the negative

*I have so much more to tell you, including a trip to the mall playground, at which I may or may not have cried and scared every mom surrounding me, and the (thankfully successful) search for this.  But (thank God) it's bedtime, and I gotta go.  BEDTIME IS PRECIOUS IN THIS HOUSE.

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