C-DAWG!

Buckle in - this might get lengthy. This sweetest of all sweet boys in the whole world is our Corgan, also known as C-Dawg (to which he actually responds better.)

It does not escape my notice the unfortunate timing of my blogging "hiatus." It fell during many key early moments in Corgan's life, and I therefore feel that my record for him is incomplete, and unfair given the attention I've given to documenting the other boys' happenings. I am going to try to remedy that, and I must tell you that just looking at this picture as I type, I've got a big ol' lump in my throat and tears in my eyes. All I want to do is go wake him up, cuddle him and squeeze him. I just love him so, so much. However, he would never let me do such a thing.

Corgan has always been very different from my other boys. I often describe him as being like The Girl with a Curl:

"There was a little girl who had a little curl
Right in the middle of her forehead;
When she was good, she was very, very good,
And when she was bad she was horrid."

I hesitate to say he's ever "bad," but that little rhyme always has entered my mind where he is concerned. He's just always been very excitable, easy to upset, and always does things that completely baffle us. Minor examples from early in his life were that he could not walk until he was 19 months old. (I was much less concerned with this than strangers and minor acquaintances were, trust me.) He had also started out saying words, and then he just stopped talking. It was all screams, all tantrums, all the time. I've been around kids my entire life, personally and professionally, so I know what is typical and what is extreme. Trust me when I say his behaviors become extreme. Screaming bloody, horrible murder in public - for no discernible reason. Throwing himself down in tempers - for no discernible reason. He's overly aggressive and rough. And he's also often not involved with what we are doing. He kind of moves along in the periphery of our family, or whatever group we may be with. The below picture, which I love, demonstrates this. It wasn't a stolen moment of him smelling flowers. This was all he did, just moved along as the whole family walked, in his own little world, investigated the environment, and often had to be called back into the fold, as he traipsed on his merry way. I can't get more specific, it would take ages, but he has definitely been a challenge. I have, until recently, chalked it up to being difficult, like me, and hoped he would grow out of it.


We were able to get somewhat of an answer because of his constant ear infections. The poor boy couldn't hear very well. Once we had tubes put in, things calmed down considerably for a few months, he started to say one or two words, but then that was it. The extreme behavior started again, and he wouldn't talk - never even calling me "Mama." I finally decided these things were not going to correct themselves over time, so I called ECI: Early Childhood Intervention. After several evaluations and meetings, more evaluations and more meetings (occupational therapists, speech therapists, child psychologist, child development specialist, etc.) he was diagnosed with Sensory Processing Disorder, more specifically, he is a "sensory seeking child." SPD "is the inability to use information received through the senses in order to function smoothly in daily life.... an umbrella term to cover a variety of neurological disorders." A child like this often can't translate cues in his environment to modify his behavior. For example, the child will pull the cat's tail, and get scratched, but he can't connect the two, so he continues, baffled at the cat's response. This is something I am still learning about, having only gotten a few chapters into the recommended book, The Out of Sync Child by Carol Stock Kranowitz. Brief examples from the book followed by Corgan's similar behavior:

• "Craves fast and spinning movement and may not get dizzy. Moves constantly, fidgets..., is a dare-devil and takes bold risks." Corgan often does not know his own strength. In an effort to be physically stimulated, he will hit us (not to be naughty), throw things, run into things. This all he thinks is absolutely hilarious. He enjoys grabbing Duncan and pushing his head down really hard. He does like to cuddle, but isn't still for it. He just constantly moves and shifts. Also, the story from my last post about him just riding his tricycle off the steps, that's very typical. And I watched him do it - it wasn't an accident - he very purposely did it.
• "Craves bear hugs and being squeezed and pressed. Seeks heavy work and more vigorous playground activities than others." Once he was officially diagnosed, they gave us a vest that is very tight for him to wear occasionally to give him some of that stimulation throughout the day. It is amazing what an impact this has had. He loves it and often asks to wear it. We've also discovered that when he is having one of his melt-downs, if we just grab him and SQUEEZE HIM so tight in a bear hug and apply firm pressure as we massage his back or arms or legs, he calms down pretty quickly. It is now very common for him to run to us asking for a "SKEEEEEZE!" They have also recommended a weighted blanket which will give him that stimulation at night, to help with mornings, which are very rough 99% of the time. But these blankets are quite pricey, so that will have to wait.
• "Seeks visually stimulating scenes and screens for lengthy times. Is attracted to shiny, spinning objects and bright flickering light, such as strobe lights or sunlight streaming through blinds." Now all kids love them some TV, so at first this was a weird one for me, especially since Corgan actually doesn't like to watch TV much. He used to like Yo Gabba Gabba, but now he doesn't care. (It'd actually be a big help if I COULD get him to watch some TV.) But then I realized something about the lights. He's fascinated with lights, turning them on and off obsessively. And something that I finally JUST connected to all of this was the way he will get a light-up toy or flashlight, and shine it on a wall or the cat, or most often Duncan's face, and he cracks up so hard he starts to cough - just because of seeing the light's reflection.
• "Welcomes loud noises and TV volume... May speak in a booming voice." Ewan and Fynn have always been very sensitive to noise, and both were completely terrified of the vacuum and lawn mower. Not Corgan. He's obsessed with the vacuum and the lawn mower. We have to keep him from getting too close. He also likes to see how loud and high-pitched he can get his voice to be, and revels in my not-so-favorable reaction.
• "May taste or lick inedible objects, like Play Do and toys..." Yes, all kids eat play-do, but Corgan will put absolutely anything and everything in his mouth, still. He'd eat anything if I'd let him, except for the actual food I put in front of him!

There are many more examples, but these are the ones I can best describe. Since he has been receiving therapy from the different therapists listed above, things have really taken a complete turn. There are still many challenges, but he is learning and using words at an exponential rate, we are able to curb more tantrums than we ever could before, and I finally feel not so helpless. Things had gotten so bad that sometimes I had to close my eyes or look at pictures to remember him as a little baby so I could extend my patience just a little bit more.
One of my best friends, Scarlett, was visiting from L.A. Her parents own some land and several horses, and she and her sister have ridden their entire lives in competitions and taught lessons. It was mentioned by one of the therapists how horse-back riding is sometimes used for children like Corgan for speech therapy. As Scarlett took him around on this horse, she told me he really blossomed and was chattering and she could tell a big difference in his demeanor as they walked along. I wish I could afford to enroll him in some sort of program. He sure does look at home on that horse.

Besides all this, he is a very sweet, very smart and fun little boy. He loves to play with his trucks and cars and he loves the exercises they have given us for him. Strangely enough, even though his speech is many months behind schedule, he knows all of his ABCs and some of his numbers. He loves Duncan and will rub his head and say "so soft." His favorite person on this planet is Bryce. He LOVES his Daddy like I've never seen from any other kid I've ever been around. If Daddy is home, I am persona non grata. But that's ok. He loves me deep-down, and nothing makes my heart skip a beat more these days than when Corgan calls out, "Mama!"

Happenings that Should Only Take Place in Horror Flicks or Gross-out Comedies

I used to be able to find stuff to write about all the time. Now that I'm trying to catch up with this blog and keep up, I don't find much I want to say. You'd think with four boys, two dogs, four (and a half) kitties, etc., that the hits would just keep on coming. I still plan on doing a post for each boy, but time is limited and chaos ensues to keep me from sitting for long stretches to write. Well, the last two days have made sure to give me enough fodder for a good ol' longish post.

My fish, Russell Brand, was inadvertently killed by the flea fogger we set off this weekend. All rodents and fishies were herded into the safety of the laundry room, but Bryce overlooked dear Russell. Alas, he was flushed to a watery grave this evening.

Last night, Bryce was working, and after successfully putting all of the boys to bed (yay for Duncan sleeping in his OWN BED all night every night), I was ready to get a wee snack and paint my nails and chill to some Devil Wears Prada. I had just freed "the twins" from their constricting prison, so I was flopping free and I walked into the kitchen where I felt a substantial SPLAT against my chest. Down into my shirt. And it was moving. I looked down straight into the loving eyes of one of these "little" bastards: That's a Texas tree roach for those of you not in-the-know. And they're big. Like... as long as your finger. They come out in full force in the summer and sometimes I catch one, saddle it up and let the mouse take a ride. As if it couldn't possibly get worse - a giant ROACH, for crying out loud - but they also fly. So, yeah, one of these guys had decided to go to second base with me. After inventing a few new cuss words on the spot, I watched as he scurried under the sink. I checked my pulse and decided not to call 911, then promptly put it out of my head to prevent roach dreams.

Bryce's schedule is the night shift this week, so he's here every day until 2:00. Neither one of us could sleep well last night, so we agree to trade off naps this morning. He got the first nap, I took the second. He lets the kids snack more than I do, and it's often I'll come home from an errand or out of my room from sleeping in, and the kids are carrying boxes of crackers/cereal/cookies, crumbs scattering everywhere. This morning, it was Corgan carrying around a box of Cocoa Puffs. I came to put Duncan on the floor, and started picking up the cereal that had fallen so Duncan wouldn't find them and gag. All was well... until... I picked up a Cocoa Puff that wasn't crunchy. And it wasn't as... sweet... as said cereal. Ladies and Gentlemen, I had picked up a turd. It seriously was the same size and color as the cereal all over the floor. But it was a turd. Corgan's diaper had failed in its duty to serve and protect our family from stray turds. While picking up a foul brown ball was not in my plans today, I can say I'm very glad I found it and that the baby's mouth didn't.

And finally, tonight, Corgan sneaked the tricycle into the living room while my back was turned and rode it straight down the steep double step into our bedroom. His nose was bleeding. And it bled a lot. And bled and bled and bled. Then it bled some more. I was thisclose to taking him to the ER fearing he'd broken it; it was bleeding too much for me to even look at it. It did finally stop, but not before soaking his shirt and mine. I also had some charming bloody sneeze spatters all over me. He's fine now, but the tricycle might have suffered some injuries as it was thrown with great force out into the front yard.

Here's hoping for a calmer rest-of-the-week.

Doodle-Bug

Meet Duncan Wilder. Also known as Doodle-Bug, or Dunka-Doo, Dunka-Doodle Doo, or Doodle-Poodle.

(Photo courtesy of Missy Saunders Photography and Design)

I adore this boy so much. So much, in fact, that I will post this extremely unflattering picture of me simply because I love the way he is looking at me.


Those who are close to me know that when I found out I was expecting another baby, I was less than thrilled. Don't get me wrong, I'd always planned on having another, but I felt it was too soon, not to mention the fact that circumstances were less than ideal. My health wasn't great (later I was diagnosed with Graves Disease) and things at home could have been better. I won't get overly detailed, but I was scared to be pregnant. I cried. I never regretted that it happened, surprise though it may have been, but I just felt it couldn't happen yet. I couldn't handle it. And this pregnancy SUCKED. HARD. So much suckage. I did finally have an epiphany that God always knows best, and that there was a reason for the timing. And sometimes the very best blessings require the hardest battle.

(Photo courtesy of Missy Saunders Photography and Design)

He came to us on October 8, and I just love love love love him. Of course I do, I'm his mother. But he's just so wonderful, and I feel he was meant to come and bless our home when we needed him most. The boys all adore him, Bryce adores him, he's just sweet and pleasant and I swear that kid already has an awesome sense of humor.

(Photo courtesy of Missy Saunders Photography and Design)

I'm catching you up one post at a time! More to come!

Sisters and babies!

Happy birthday to my cute nephew, Jonah, who is one today, which I totally cannot believe. He's my younger sister's son, their first baby, and he has Amy's red hair. He's a handsome little man, and I can't wait to see him again!

Jonah

And something I can't believe even more is that today Corgan is eleven months old! I feel like I was in the hospital with him last week! He is just about ready to pull up to stand, but he's so stubborn and he gets so frustrated that he gives up. It's pretty cute! All of my boys kind of waited until the very last minute for every milestone, so I know he'll get there. I CAN'T BELIEVE he'll be one year old next month! Time is stealing my boys away from me!

Corgan

On that note, because I was behind on my blog earlier this month, I didn't document the birth of another nephew, making me an aunt for the 24th time. Camden McKay Myers was born to Ashley and Jon, their fifth child, on Septemeber 10, and we are so excited he's here! Belated congratulations to Ashley and family! I can't wait to get to know him!

Camden

Flowers Gone Wild

My sisters and I used to walk to my grandmother's house and visit with her. We'd often go sit on her back porch when the weather was nice and just talk. I would talk to her a lot about all of her flowers - she had many. Wild and cultivated roses, irises in every color of the rainbow, tiger lilies, honeysuckle, wisteria, sweet peas, and many more that I've forgotten over time. She instilled in me a love of flowers and gardening that was nourished by the books I read. Anne of Green Gables, The Secret Garden, Little House on the Prairie, etc. Although I'm not necessarily a perfectly green thumb, I think I've developed a lovely light yellow, spring green thumb. At least I had, up until I got pregnant with Fynn.

Pregnancy kicks us all in the butt in different ways, and one of the things to suffer with Fynn and Corgan was my gardening. I just gave up. Weeding was too hard, I was hormonal and one failure of one plant would upset me and I just lost the desire. But I still love flowers so much. I love the wild look, and while right now the weeds have taken over a bit too wildly, there have been some other lovely results of my lazy sowing the last couple of years. It's still not quite what I would like it to be, but I'll take what I can get in these busy days.

This is the low brick wall by our porch, covered in black-eyed Susan vine, and purple hyacinth vine. They are all mingled and twirled together, and I love it.

Close-up of black-eyed Susan vine. I've loved them from the moment I saw them in a magazine, and tried for a couple of years to grow them without success. But last year, it worked, and this year, they came back with a lovely vengeance.

Both of them together. Mary Ann gave me a handful of the purple hyacinth vine a few years ago, and they came back in spectacular bunches all over the place. They are a little crazy, but beautiful - and they smell divine.

This popped up in the middle of my lantana. It looks a bit familiar, but I can't place it. Does anyone know? The find of this one inspired this post this morning, and I'm thinking it might inspire a little more of the fey spirit of gardening.

Zombie Shoutout

My little sister, Amy, is very crafty and talented at all sorts of crafty craftiness. She's been embroidering lately, and some of her stuff was just featured on an embroidery blog. Yay, Amy! I'm so proud of you!

Happy birthday, Hunter!!!

I love you, you little stud!

Neverland

I am actually pretty sad that life will be returning to normal. It's not that I'll miss the holidays exactly, just being able to visit with family, having Bryce home from work, and just the sense of laze and fun that surrounds the season. Not that there isn't any joy in day-to-day life, but there's also the grind. We've had a lot of fun, and we had two important events this weekend. Corgan was blessed on Sunday, and that afternoon we had Fynn's birthday party. Because I am so incredibly disorganized, I did not get a picture of Corgan in his blessing outfit, which was also worn by Ewan and Fynn. But sometime this week I'll get him back into it just so we can have a record. For now, here are some pictures from last week on a crazy warm winter day, and some from the party.

A grin to make you swoon.

He loved it outside. Both pictures were so good, I couldn't pick just one.

Showing us a tiny rock.

Another swoon.

Ewan is so proud of himself, learning how to swing on his own. He does it all the time now.

Fynn has an obsession with these shoes. His feet looked freakishly big as he was sitting there.

I could not ask for a better big brother for Corgan than Ewan. He loves that baby so much, talks to him all the time, and kisses him so much it's actually a little nerve-wracking. Corgan loves him right back and often gives him the best grins.

Birthday boy!

I'm thankful for our home, but it is so tiny. This isn't even a big party, and there's barely room to move. More people were in the kitchen.

The cake. Again, I didn't plan very well, so the Grover and Elmo were totally improvised from some of Fynn's toys. At least it tasted better than it looks.

Fynn and Ben under the table.

A comfortable way to eat chips and hide from people, apparently.

Peek!

And the funny part... If you've read my blog for any amount of time, you know I'm a little crazy when it comes to animals. When Sarah asked for birthday ideas, I half jokingly said a gerbil. Sarah asked if that would actually be okay, and I said yes, but also as an early present for Ewan so it would be both of theirs. I didn't tell Bryce about it, but said that Sarah was bringing a friend that had been staying with them. When James and Sarah walked in with this huge box, I couldn't stop grinning, and he knew something was up. But he wasn't mad. Thanks, Sarah! And thanks, James, for the Potato Head hideaway idea. Ewan wants her name to be Sophie. I tried to talk him into Piper, but he won't have it. So Sophie she shall remain.

Christmas, farewell 'til next year

Well, Christmas has come and gone, and it was spectacular. I was so excited, even the night before Christmas Eve, that I had trouble sleeping. I coudn't wait to give the kids their gifts, and to catch a glimpse of Santa. Ewan recieved lots of Transformers, and has been transfixed by them. His behavior has been better, and we have a new theory that he really gets so bored, that his mind and hands need something to challenge them, and that's why he acts out. Fynn wasn't really all that impressed with anything other than the baseball glove and baseballs he got. He sleeps with them both. I'm glad and sad it's over, but now we go on to prepare for Corgan's blessing and Fynn's 2nd birthday. I'll let the pictures tell about the rest of our Christmas.

I had to throw this one in, just because it is so darn cute.

Our pitiful Christmas tree, after falling victim to young children that repositioned ornaments, and cats that ate Christmas light cords.

Sorry to subject you to this, but we needed documentation of Bryce's blue tongue after Missy's yummy train cakes. I can't figure out why I don't have other pictures from our time with the Saunders. Visit the link for Missy's from that day.

Let's just say my dad is no fan of Obama. This was our gag gift to him. Unfortunately, all the pictures of my mom were very blurry, but we'll get some up soon.

Puppies and babies.

Ewan's Transformers from my parents, all lined up for Santa to see.

Cookies and milk for Santa, and some cheese for Santa Mouse.

Fynn hit the chocolate first thing. Must have been a rough night.

Bryce's mom and dad, Jerry and Mary Ann.

Fynn carried that baseball around all day long. He slept with it. And for fun, a glimpse of my favorite shoes.

Ewan found other uses for the butterfly net from Grandma Taylor.

Fynn and his rad Uncle DJ.

Ewan's loot.

Fynn's loot.

Santa didn't forget the littlest Taylor. The fun stuff was in the stocking.

Reading a new book.

Fynn's present that he picked with Daddy's help. I've been talking about how I want to buy myself a Barbie just so I could brush her hair and look at her. She comes with a kitty.

Ewan's gift to me, which he picked out all by himself. A toucan can opener.

Bryce ordered these really cool custom-made books directly from Apple. They lost the first order, so he redid it, and we ended up receiving both of them, slightly different from each other. They are bound and covered with a dedication and are awesome, full of pictures of the kids, sisters, my kitties and just all the things I love.

The dedication says, "No words are needed to show how much Kelli loves her family and children. This is a dedication to her love and care." I guess I'll stick with him.