It's a No-School Day and boy, am I feeling it. I really can't express how much I dislike, dislike, dislike, dislike having no school and no hubby to help out. I think the boys would agree - even with fabulous weather and endless outside play opportunities, they both just get BORED.
We finally settled on Methylin chewables for Cade; we asked for a 10mg tab to be split for 5mg 2x a day - it's a way to make this as affordable as possible for us as we have one of those awful high-deductible plans that even prescriptions apply to, so we have to fork out the $75 a month alone. As an aside in a blog I usually keep politics out of, yes, for those that don't know or have forgotten, Matt works for a certain second-largest insurance company in the U.S. and I did as well before Parker was born. We have seen it all, we know how it really works in this evil industry, we've felt the burn of being one of the UnderInsured and so we are proud supporters of a Government-Takeover-of-Healthcare, even if that Takeover resulted eventually in Matt being out of work. The poor misguided souls who don't understand the need for such a thing have never been on the receiving end of emails instructing you to purposely delete files waiting for review and spelling out lies to tell said poor misguided souls who think Private-run healthcare is infinitely superior to Government-run healthcare. Single-payer all the way, baby. (Okay, enough said on that, for now at least!)
The pedi informed us this morning the script was ready to be picked up - you know you've gone over to The Dark Side when your kid's prescription can't be legally called into a pharmacy because it's a "controlled substance" - and Matt fully intended to do so on his lunch break. Unfortunately, Cade decided to use that time to run downstairs and let our dog outside (for the fourth or fifth time), forcing Matt to spend the entire time searching the neighborhood for him ... finally, a few minutes ago the Dog Warden called. If this keeps up, we'll have to start inviting him to birthday parties. And all I can do is shake my head at the awful irony of it all and hope chemicals have better luck than I have to get this child to STOP DOING THIS CRAP. The drugs will have to wait until tomorrow.
This morning he woke up, snuck out of his room and spilled blue paint on the nursery floor (Dawson & Holden's French-circus room-in-progress). Yesterday afternoon he took my brand new camera out for an unauthorized testdrive in the backyard. It came back covered in mud but still intact, at least, and had me sorely wishing I'd splurged on the extra warranty. He sure knows how to make the best use of sunlight though, I have to admit; perhaps there's a career there somewhere.
Looking back through the saccharine posts leading up to Em's adoption, all this sarcasm feels foreign on this blog. And yet, believe it or not, that was who I used to be. Before Dawson. Before Down syndrome. I used to think DS was a cure-all for the lower elements of humanity. Maybe it was just a temporary patch. I don't mind though; it helps to laugh at it instead of crying about it.
It's like coming home again.
Our B-eautiful house.
This used to be my cell phone charger. Thanks, Parker. *sigh*
And yet, sweet moments. Unloading my memory card from the last few days.
Dawson stepping through the last remnants of snow last week. We can't take Em outside if there's more than a slight breeze because she screams and gulps air like a newborn. We try to go out when she and Holden are napping, and I've been hanging out with her on the sunporch to try to desensitize her; but no outdoor pics of the Princess.
Dawson loves to swing. He holds on so tightly and laughs and laughs. I love how much he looks like he has Down syndrome here, and how much I don't care.
Look, Ma... no hands?
All that remains of our patio table. Clean up ideas anyone? Ugh.
Cade's Pics during Aforementioned Camera Hijack
