Moves in Curves

Project Alpha likes to sit on me when I lay on the floor.  I tell him not to sit on my back cause it hurts me, and now he’s been sitting (and wiggling) on various parts of my back, butt, and legs, and asking me “Does that peel good, Mama?” Usually I’m like “No, it doesn’t feel good, get off me” and he moves to another spot and repeats the procedure. Tonight he scratched me with a graham cracker (those suckers are sharp)  and was like “Does that peel good, Mama?” Sigh.

Weapon X likes to tell me he’s going to keep me “porever”. He told me after the graham cracker incident above, “Mama I won’t hurt you, I just hug you and kiss you.” Before you aww too much, he also likes to take flying leaps at me unexpectedly, usually landing knees-first. This is a kid who’s going to jump out of planes someday with a Navy SEAL team, I just know it. When I was pregnant, X hid from the ultrasounds for a long time so we couldn’t see if he was a boy or a girl, so my brother nicknamed him Weapon X. Upon reflection, this was oddly prophetic.

They’re done with speech therapy for the summer now, though I still do the constant pronunciation and grammar reinforcements of course. We’re leaving on Tuesday for three weeks in San Diego with the Hubby, then we’ll be back home  for like a week before school starts. They’re doing speech therapy at school, it’s supposed to be twice a week for half an hour each time. School speech therapists don’t get as good results as private therapists in our experience – they don’t always work with the kids according to their specific diagnosis, even when they’re told to in an IEP. So we’re in the pool for the local university clinic, which is the only private therapy we can afford. We did therapy there during July and saw some improvement since they used apraxic specific techniques. I’ll be pushing the school more, as usual, to do what’s best for the boys rather than what’s expedient for them.

It’s hard sometimes, but they are making improvements, and the neurologist was positive about their future, which apparently he’s not normally very positive. I quite liked him, but the school STs told me they usually get parents complaining. I get along with doctors, even though I don’t trust them. The boys’ dentist told me he was glad I wasn’t one of those moms who freak out, that I kept it together and was calm, when Weapon X whacked his mouth and impacted a tooth (he was doing a flying leap at a friend’s house and landed on her coffee table. He makes me tired).

So that’s where we’re at. Hopefully we’ll continue to see leaps of improvement through their kindergarten year.

This morning after they got dressed, D turned to me and said, “Uh oh, Ma bad guy” and then both of them shot me with imaginary guns for a bit (I have no idea where they learned that, if they’ve ever even seen a gun on tv I’d be very surprised, it must be hardwired to the Y chromosome). After I had fallen over appropriately dead, D said, “We killed Ma. We gonna eat Ma.” Then they both pretended to eat me haha. They are so funny.