Birthday check-ups

Well, it’s been a couple weeks since I’ve had a chance to blog. Sorry about that. Can’t imagine why. I have so much ample free time, lol. 

Anyway, today is my sweet Jack's birthday. I want to know, who told him he’s allowed to turn 6? This is not ok. My last baby… a six-year-old?! How?

Birthdays have always brought up a lot of emotions for me, especially with Jack. I used to really dread his annual checkups. Thankfully, his doctors have stopped asking those developmental milestone questions now. You know the ones I mean? Can he throw a ball? Trace a circle? Things like that. I used to hate those questions. So many “no’s.” 

At his one-year-old exam: “No, he’s not pulling up to stand. No, he’s not babbling. No, he’s not trying to crawl.” At two: “No, he doesn’t say any words. No, he can’t kick a ball,” or something like that. I forget the specifics at this point.

Interestingly, I had been more concerned about Logan possibly having autism. The doctors also used to ask a list of questions to look for red flags. There were things like: sensitive to loud noises/ bright lights/ certain materials. Logan was a yes for a lot of those, and Jack actually had fewer “red flags.” As it turns out, I have one kiddo on the Autism Spectrum who could care less about crowded places, flashing lights, and loud noises. Then I have a “neurotypical” child who is easily overwhelmed by these things at times. Logan is overly sensitive, while Jack seems oblivious to a lot of things.

Oh, my boys. Different in almost every way. Lord, help me. 

And happy birthday to the bestest 6-year-old on the planet! I love you so much, buddy.

Two little ones

As Jack’s birthday is just a couple of weeks away, I’ve been thinking back to the early days. At home, with two small children. It was a lot. However, believe it or not, I did better with my mental health/ sanity the second time around. With my first kiddo, I was so nervous about everything that I stopped taking one of my antidepressant meds. There was like a 0.000000000001 change it would cause the baby to have a seizure, and I didn’t want to risk it. So, the first weeks and months with Logan are dark, fuzzy memories. It was really hard, and he was a difficult baby: “colicky,” which basically means he would cry for no reason. He always wanted to be held and bounced and sung to. It was exhausting.

Then came Jack. He was a breath of fresh air. Easy, mellow, agreeable. I couldn’t believe it. Also, my doctor advised me to stay on my meds, because the risk was incredibly low. So, I did, and it made a huge difference. I was able to enjoy my time with my sweet new baby and adorable toddler. Though, let it be said, that adorable toddler was clingy, needy, and super-sensitive. But he also loved his new baby brother. 

Alright, I’ve got this. Two kids, heading back to work as a Special Education teacher. Our family was complete, and all was well. Hahaha, said the universe. You don’t know jack.