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!"

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!

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.

I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...

... start writing again. Really. I think I can. I WILL do it. It may take me a while to get back into the writing groove, but I will try. Since I don't have anything spectacular to report right now, I think I'll just give some wee updates on different topics and post a few pictures. Then we'll see what I can come up with tomorrow. Or the next day. Or, you know, sometime.

Ewan is incredible. He is loving kindergarten, and announced yesterday he has a girlfriend named Sarah. For the past two days, all he has talked about are the superhero team he has formed with Sarah, Natalie, each of us, and the cats. For Halloween, he wants to be AntMan, a hero he made up after an ant bit him (mimicking what he'd seen on Spiderman when Peter Parker is bitten by the spider.) Ewan is incredibly smart, and excessively sensitive. I love him madly and am so glad to be his mommy. I'm afraid he's more like me than I would like to admit, and that equates to being a major challenge. He requires more patience and care than the other two put together, but I know through prayer and faith, it'll all be worth it.
Fynn is hilarious and fun and stubborn and frustrating, and acts like a turd much of the time. He's in his testing phase, which means he ignores nine out of ten words that come out of my mouth just so he can see how I'll react. Unfortunately, I haven't been strict enough on him - not like I was on Ewan. Being pregnant and having Corgan when Fynn was so young really threw a wrench in my parenting philosophies and one year later, we are still recovering. But I'm trying to get the reins back, and hope to be raising a polite, kind, obedient little boy soon. I mean, within reason. He is a little boy, after all. And a very cute one at that. His face is so angelic, it belies the growling attitude he has most of the time. But he's still my little cherub who loves to play ball and cars, be a superhero, and copies everything his big brother does. Everything.

Corgan is quite a big boy. His height and weight are in the 95th percentile. He actually only began to army crawl about one month ago; the doctor said when they are tall and big like that it is harder for them to get their heft around. Today for the first time, he can go from crawling to sitting up all on his own. And he's ready to start pulling up to stand. It's possible he'll be a slightly late walker, but I'm not concerned. He loves the kitties and meows back at them. He actually had a two minute long conversation with momma kitty Ruby today. It was very cute. He says "dada" and is working on "mama" which usually comes out "nana." He's still more blond than his brothers, and I kiss his feet and squeeze his thighs regularly. I can't believe he'll be one year old in a month. I mean, didn't I just have him last month?

The animal kingdom is alive and thriving in my home. Well, maybe not thriving. Two months ago, a hamster escaped its cage and was found the next day - rather, a piece of her was found the next day. I guess Ruby was hungry. In addition, Ruby has severed the tails of two, count them, TWO different gerbils, as well as murdering another. The survivors, short stub tails notwithstanding, are doing well. One of them has become my friend, squeaking at me and letting me pet her. The other gerbil... Well, I just can't help wishing SHE had escaped her cage instead of the hamster. I actually have a pretty funny story about that, but I'll save it. I went a little crazy after the deaths of the gerbil and hamster, and replaced them rapidly. So the current (and final) tally is two gerbils, two mice, and two hamsters. I can't help it; I like the furry little buggers.

We have kept two of the kittens from Ruby's litter, two little boys we named Oliver and Mudflap (Ewan named him after a Transformer.) They are sweet little guys, and I love them so!


Lucy, a cat I bought with babysitting money when I was 16 years old, had to be put to sleep last week. She had a tumor behind her tongue that couldn't be removed without removing her tongue. So she was basically going to starve to death either way. I went to the veterinarian with my dad, who has been her constant companion since I left and got married, and I was with her until the end, which wasn't easy. I tell you, that cat has absorbed more of my tears in years past as she gave me love and comfort - during an awful heartbreak, through getting over it, moving away from home, coming back with my tail between my legs, through meeting Bryce and watching him leave on a mission, through the two years waiting for him to come home...
I feel badly for my parents, who had gotten quite attached to her, more attached than I've ever seen them to any other animal. But I'm sure she's happy, and I feel confident she's somewhere with my little Flex, playing and being friends.

Me, I'm still fat and trying to motivate myself to work out and lose the stinkin' weight. I had a setback in the middle of July when I injured my knee and had to have surgery. It's still not back at 100%, but I'm doing physical therapy, and hope to be back to normal very soon. Then I won't have any more excuses. Ewan said to me the other day, "Mommy, you need to lose weight. Every day you look like you have a baby in your belly. I call you 'needing to lose weight' mommy." It didn't hurt my feelings, it made me laugh. But when my five year old can tell I'm unhealthy, it's very convincing. For too long I've thought, "Hey, I'm young, I have time, I don't have to worry about disease or diabetes, yet." I realized finally that I am working my way through my 30s, and I don't have time anymore.

Bryce and I had our garage converted into a bedroom for us. Our home is very small - 850 sq. ft. give or take, only two bedrooms, and we were sharing a room with Corgan. There were days Bryce would come home and I'd be laying on my bed having a claustrophobic fit. There was just room for nothing, and often when I needed a moment to myself, Corgan would be napping and I couldn't go in there. I'm grateful for our house, and we have a nice, huge backyard, but we really needed our own space. So now we do, and it's lovely. Thanks to *you know who you are* for this wonderful room, and thanks to Shannon for helping me put it together.

This is already too long - the perils of not keeping up. I hope you stuck through to this point. Hopefully I will be up and running more often, humor intact. And now I need to catch up on all of your blogs! Now - good night!

New kitties!

Okay, so sorry because I SWORE I was going to be updating more often, even trying for every day. But first we all had a horrendous sinus infection, and then once we got well from that, both Bryce and I caught this very odd virus that made our whole bodies feel like we'd been in a cage match, with a low fever... bla blah. So I haven't been in the groove. I even neglected Primp & Tell pretty badly. Anyway, yesterday Ruby had another litter. I normally would never have allowed her to have two litters, especially back to back, but after what happened to Flex, I wanted baby kitties. And it's not as if I had a whole lot I could do - it's clear now she was pregnant before Flex was even killed. And I am so ecstatic. All day yesterday I was expecting the "big event" because Ruby was acting so sluggish, and after she had them, I was so giddy and happy it was like a kid on a sugar high. I do love cats. So much I'm actually a little teary right now. Anyway.... So I will probably be keeping that little calico beauty there, I love them. And I'll almost definitely keep another one, too, just not sure which one. I want to wait and see their little personalities and see how affectionate they are. Also, there is now photographic proof that there are FOUR of them, so if something happens like last time, I won't second-guess my sanity. Pardon the poor quality - I had to snap this quick before Ruby came back from eating and took off my hand for messing with them. I really don't want her to move them this time.

Taylor Status

What is the plural of "status?" Is it "statuses?" "Stati?" Hold on, I'm going to look it up... Oh, wow. It's "status." Hm! Who knew? Anyway... I know I haven't been doing regular posting here other than the occasional picture explosion, so I felt like just posting the state of all things Taylor-oriented.

Corgan is ginormo-baby. Every day, Bryce or I say, "When did he get so big?!" He has no teeth, yet, but he drools like a leaky dam. He's rolling over from back to tummy, and he's starting to experiment with some consonants, constantly screeching out "D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D-D!" He's a very happy baby, a major contrast from the colicky screamer he was the first few months. Every time he looks at someone, usually women, his jaw opens in a gigantic gummy grin and he crinkles his nose. We've made real progress in that our friend John doesn't make him cry anymore.

Fynn is so stinkin' fun. I can't believe how much he is growing and talking. He loves bugs, and we frequently find him on his belly, very closely examining a tiny creature. I have to stop him from picking up ants and spiders, but I do let him carry around a June bug when he finds one. The other day, he kept one in his hand, alive, through two hours of car travel and shopping time. However, that little booger WILL NOT sleep at night. We put him to bed at 8:00, and that kid will get up over and over again - sometimes more than a dozen times. Nothings works, either. We tried Super Nanny's advice of not saying anything to him, but immediately putting him back in bed, we've tried spanking (just a little tap). Nothing. Right now, having been put to bed an hour ago after not napping today, he's still in there taunting Ewan and roaring like a tiger.

Before I get into an update on Ewan, just a little about him. He's been quite difficult the last couple of years. He's very anxious and seems to have some sensory issues. It's all quite difficult to explain, but it has been a struggle, one that I fear will go on and I won't know how to handle. On the other hand, he's very smart. We could hold full conversations with him when he was barely two, and when he was three, he started sounding out and reading words on his own. He's very curious about words, and asks what everything he hears means. We recently (finally) got him into Pre-K through our elementary school. It has made such a difference. He'll now draw pictures (would never before, only scribble) and is more willing to work at something, whereas before if it was just a slight challenge, he would run screaming from the room devastated. Today, his teacher flagged me down to tell me their language and speech person visited the room today. She said to me, "This boy will read anything you put in front of him." Apparently, they gave him word lists, and he was reading at above a 4th grade level. So this language specialist is going to come in each week and work with him and see what else he's capable of. I was just so excited, because I worry about him so much. I had a hard time not crying in happiness for him. He's not into sports at all, but seems to have a very scientific mind, and you'll always find him in the company of adults rather than children. More than once I've gotten to school to pick him early and found him on the playground, talking his teacher's ear off while the children ensued in hilarity around him. He's quite an interesting, awesome kid.

Bryce is working hard, but may need a second job soon. I'm trying to keep up with everything, and barely succeeding. The kittens are cute and growing and each one has a home waiting for it. In fact, one will be staying with us and Ewan has named him Flex.

Fynn scopes out the insect life.

The biggest worm I have ever seen, even after being accidentally cut by a shovel.

So disgusting, yet so AWESOME.

Flex is on the left. Say a prayer: Fynn is determined to slam the door on one of them.

This is what Fynn does when I've banned him from the kittens. I tried to get a shot of one of their paws coming out, but they were too quick.

My birthday

On Thursday the 5th, my parents celebrated their 49th anniversary, and I turned 32. (Holy cow to both.) It was a good day. (Not counting my two-hour pity party. What is it about birthdays that make me whiny?!) I had mistakenly scheduled a dermatologist appointment for that morning, and I had double-booked a play date with Shannon and the gang. When I realized my mistake, I just asked if she could sit with Ewan and Fynn for my short appointment. Shannon made me the cutest little mushroom house for fairies that I totally love. I used to draw little ones identical to it all over my papers in high school. (I found out later several teachers and a friend's mom thought I was into 'shrooms. I didn't even know you could "do" 'shrooms. So there, haters!) At my appointment, the doctor wished me a happy birthday and had her assistant pack me a bag full of nice samples from Aveeno and Eucerin, among others. Awesome! When I went back to pick up the boys, Shannon had made my favorite cake: yellow with chocolate frosting, and the kids helped put on the sprinkles. It was very yummy, and again, thanks, Shannon! Then Julie stopped by with a can of Coke and two little birds she had made. They are so cute, and actually go quite nicely with Shannon's mushroom house. Bryce came home from work with some beautiful flowers and we went out for some Italian food. All in all, a simple, good day with lots of wonderful well-wishes on Facebook and in messages. Happy anniversary to my parents, and be forewarned for next year the 5oth!


Ignore the fact that I need to dust, and look how cute! I love all of them. Do you see the little door and window on the fairy house? Divine. I don't deserve such good friendships.

More best pictures ever

Here are more shots from our family photo session with Missy. There are so many beautiful ones, I don't know if I'll be able to limit myself on posting them. Ewan does this a lot to Missy when she gets the camera out, he just makes faces and acts so goofy. But I love the look of sheer joy on his face in these pictures. He looks so happy and like he's having so much fun. Fynn just takes my breath away. And Corgan, we just love him so, poor thing was cold and wanted to be somewhere warm. I really like these, especially the fun, unplanned ones where the boys' personalities show through.

Best pictures ever

Ah, Missy, I love you! You are an awesome friend, and such a talented photographer. And Julie, the hat is so totally fabulous, thank you so much. Isn't it so stinkin' cute on him?

These are pictures from a photo shoot Missy did for me as part of my shower gift. Corgan was a month old when we did the shoot. There are SO. MANY. good ones that it's hard to choose what to post, and whether I like black and white or color better! I think I need to wake him up to snuggle now...