Love Note

Leo's, to Lucy:

Patterns: The World Is His

Leo's math teacher emailed me some pictures this morning (How awesome is that? I love a little window into his academic world.)

"Look at the patterns Leo made using triangles and diamonds!" wrote Mrs. L.

Leo is so funny. Whenever he is particularly proud of something that he's showing you, he does this funny little thing where he puts his hands on his hips and crosses one leg in front of the other. I have no idea where he learned it. He's a show-man, that's for sure.

He's also, as you can see, clearly quite modest.

He also, thankfully, boasts a fantastic sense of humor.

A few other bonus school-related photos:


A perfect spelling test (last week)! I'm seeing a definite improvement in Leo's handwriting.


And, the requisite Columbus Day project. He was very proud of this, and gave us quite the lesson about Columbus and all his "accomplishments" over dinner. He told us about each ship, to which Ellie responded: "The Nina, the Pinta and the Pizzeria?"

On Arguments and Differences and Pink for the Boys

Sometimes it feels like I spend my days negotiating. Deals are made. But Why? The "Whys" are adorable when they relate to the magical world around us. "Why do some clouds look like flowers and some clouds look like clouds?" Not so cute when I ask for coats and shoes to go on and I'm met with why? For what feels like the ninetieth time. The arguing is especially bountiful and brutal with my darling, inquisitive, and yes, beloved four year old.

Everything, yes, everything is a discussion. And yes, discussion is the polite word for it.

But I can't argue with any of this. Especially the "I am happy" part.

No arguments here either, nope. This is not a bad way to start the day.

Aw, but babies don't argue. I mean, not really.

And in non-argumentative news, somebody loves to feed herself. She already seems to have great fine motor skills and can pick up minuscule pieces of dust on the carpet (not that that ever happens because our house is immaculate I assure you). Side note: I've decided Ruby the dog can stay (she's developed a mind numbingly annoying habit of barking to go out, then instantly wants to come back in, then when you go to actually let her in she looks up at you with her smokey brown eyes and truly, if a dog could mock you, she would). But she can stay, because dogs eat all the food the babies drop on the floor and therefore I don't have to sweep (often). But I hope Ruby has spare pair of elastic waist pants because she's about to gain the old "toddler fifteen" (I swear she gained fifteen pounds after Leo started on solids and she never lost it).

But back to the eating. Others are, hmm...how shall I put this? Less interested in self-feeding? Perhaps his eyelashes are getting in the way? Then again, why would you want to feed yourself if you had someone to do it for you?

I know this comes as an absolute news flash to all but these babies are so different! Imagine that. They have such unique personalities and strengths. Once you have a child with delays who does nothing when they are supposed to, you sort of forget about milestones I think. Having two babies side-by-side I think it's impossible not to compare a little and that's where it gets interesting. Harry is strong, sits up like a champ but can't seem to wrap his head around picking up food and putting it in his mouth (he puts all kind of other things in his mouth). Lucy on the other hand, is fine at sitting as long as you have a hand right at her side for when she just tips right over. She loves to be on her stomach and has been spotted rocking on her knees so I'm thinking crawling isn't too far away. No rush Lucy, no rush.

While Lucy "caws," chortles, babbles and screeches, Harry is much quieter, though he does his share of vocalizations. He still does his deep little Donald Duck voice, but he's a fan of a high pitch scream, akin to a four year old girl who just saw a spider.

Did I forget to mention Lucy is also suddenly terrified of strangers? Bursts into tears at the face of a friendly little old lady at the grocery store. Cannot wait for Lucy to start at daycare in a month. That is going to be awesome. Harry, meanwhile, seems to be affable guy. Also, he flirts. Bats those eyelashes at anyone and everyone.


Speaking of Harry, he had a pretty bad diaper rash this weekend. (Is anyone still reading this? Have I bored you to tears yet?) Anyway, for some reason you can't use diaper cream or powder on cloth diapers (Erin wants to know what will happen if you do? Do the Cloth Diaper Police come to your door and issue you a summons? Yes, I'm pretty sure they do).

So when a rash develops, you have to use disposables, which I always forget to buy to have on hand just in case. We happened to have an extra Disney Princess (only the best for Harry) Pull-Up, size 4-5T. And it fit him. So apparently the inability to self-feed? Not interfering with the weight gain.

It Takes a Village

This morning was Leo’s spring parent-teacher conference. I last met with Leo’s teacher in the fall. I speak with her on the phone or via email or Leo’s communication book fairly regularly, so I didn’t learn much that I didn’t already know.

Even though it made the morning a bit extra hectic (and I had to bring Ellie with me) I like to get to Leo’s school as often as I can and it’s fun to visit Leo’s classroom. This morning, for example, I found out they are growing potatoes! Leo pointed to the tiny green sprouts poking through the dirt in the big purple Rubbermaid container and signed “baby.” Well they were baby potatoes, he was right.

Perhaps my favorite detail about this morning was seeing pictures from the Dr. Seuss Birthday celebration a few weeks ago. There was Leo, in a circle with a group of (all typical girls). He had his legs crossed, was leaning back in his chair and reading aloud from The Cat in the Hat and the girls were enthralled, clearly under Leo’s spell.

You certainly can’t complain about a meeting with a teacher that begins, “Well everyone loves Leo.”

I’m not surprised to learn that Leo is the “mayor” of his school. He greets everyone in the hall and everyone knows him. He is collectively adored.

I pressed her for the negative. It couldn’t be a total love-fest. Was there anything he needed to work on? Anything we should be doing with him at home?

He still has a hard time transitioning sometimes, but he is easily “redirected” when reminded of an upcoming fun activity. He can be a little overly “chatty,” both with his neighbors and teachers. He is constantly asking questions. Why? What’s that? (Obviously not much of a “problem” in my book for the speech delayed kid to be talking too much but I can imagine it can be annoying as a teacher).

Mrs. L. does think Leo could improve his handwriting, which I was surprised to hear, since I think it’s pretty darn impressive. But clearly I’m a little biased.

The discussion turned to the haircut/sensory concerns. Mrs. L. wanted to know what exactly was Leo’s “issue” with getting his hair cut, so that she and the Occupational therapist could figure out some techniques to help him overcome it. I explained in highly technical terms, that he basically flips. Out. I shared with her the fact that Leo’s been seeing an ENT since he was about six months old. Maybe he just doesn’t like people going at his head with sharp objects?

She agreed they would continue to work on it and even joked she’d been tempted to make a few snips here and there, when they were working with the scissors, but she was worried Leo would get the wrong idea and think it was acceptable to use scissors on other people’s hair.

And then I said in all seriousness, if you can cut Leo’s hair, I give you my blessing. For real. I was pretty much convinced she would have better luck than we do at home. I think we can all agree that most (all?) children are completey different people at school vs. home, so why not? I can see someone reading this and thinking, what, you can't even cut your own kid's hair? But it's not that simple. It reminds me of how Leo was potty trained at school for ages while he still continued to have accidents at home, or how he has always been so good about holding the hands of teachers or aides but up until very recently, would try to bolt when I walked with him.

They are just different creatures, when they're away from us. I firmly believe this.

Back to today. I arrived at work this morning (about an hour after meeting with Leo’s teacher) to a phone message from Ms. L.

“Just wanted to let you know we’ve made some progress in trimming Leo’s hair. It’s not finished yet but it’s a big improvement! I’ll keep you posted.”

And then an email, a few hours later:

Hi Maya,
As per my phone message to your work number, we are still working on Leo's hair - it's definitely a work in progress and will take days to complete. The Health teacher, came in today and told us that she used to be a hairdresser. She has all her equipment at home and will be happy to cut his hair (fix what I've done) once we feel he is ready. We're aiming for the Wednesday after vacation. She would like to know how you would like it cut. If you could find a picture of a haircut you like and could send it in that would be great.
Mrs. L.

And shortly after that email, another note arrived, with these attached:



It’s clear that they are using this as a “teachable moment” which I think is sweet. And smart.

Mrs. L. said that Leo "fussed a bit" [I had written her back inquiring how he reacted to the haircut]. She went on to say: "I did a little at a time. We used a doll and "cut" the dolls hair ( it didn't even have any hair) and then Leo's hair. I'll try to do a little every day to even it out. Tomorrow we talked about doing the front (just so it's not hanging in his eyes)."
Mrs. L.

My heart is swelling. It takes a village, indeed.

Busy Guy

Leo has been doing some great work at school. I realize this post might only be interesting to about three other people (Hi Grandmas and Grandpa!) but I wanted to share this.

His handwriting is really improving. The inside of the Valentine's Day card he gave us:

For some reason this one cracked me up. It's a little hard to read. It was a project for Martin Luther King Day. It says "He had a dream." Awwww....

And this is just pretty. You can't tell here but it's three-dimensional and the heart stands about an inch tall. I need to find some kind of shadow boxy frame for it. I can't really believe that Leo rolled up all these little pieces of paper (sorry) but if they say he did, I'm gonna go with that.

A Perfect Sized Name

We had no idea when we named Leo that his name would be such a perfect length for learning to write. We really planned that well didn’t we? I’m happy to report that Leo knows how to write his name and he actually has for some time. You can see from this photo how they do it—the teacher writes the child’s name and the child writes the letters below it (notice in the top left hand corner the teacher's note: “wrote independently”). He doesn’t need the modeling anymore though. He can totally do it himself. I am so proud!