Why we can't go back to the park

Clothes off in the comfort of our backyard.  Yes, we are on a golf course but I feel like the fence says "Mind your own business, please."

Running errands always starts with a bribe and usually ends with a bribe.  "You want to go to the park?"  Two kids sprint to the back door and wait for me to dress them from head to toe all the while screaming as though each second that passes one piece of playground equipment is destroyed.  I finally get them in the car and proceed with my errands.  With every stop it's the same, "We're going to the park after this."  My strategy though selfish is to run all my errands as far away from the park as possible so they fall asleep before we can ever get to the park thus avoid going to the park altogether.  Five minutes away and those heavy eyes close.  Success!!!  As I pass in front of the park smiling and secretly patting myself on the back, I damn near drive off the road as a shrill "PARK MAMA!!!  GO PARK!!!" echoes from the back seat.  Son of a...  Really?  

Okay so the park is a glorious place.  Jambalaya Park in Gonzales.  I love it.  Honest.  It had rained the night before, but the rubber surface drains really well so it's still a dry place to play.  I open the gate and release the hounds to run and climb freely all while I lounge on a park bench leisurely checking Facebook and strategically placing tiles on Words with Friends.  (In an ideal world)  What it really looks like is Cameron shouting at me "Mama watch this," "Mama, come on" all while I chase after Jack who is making a bee line toward the one swimming pool-sized mud puddle in the whole entire park.  I am on edge the entire time with worst-case scenarios playing out in my head.  Who is enjoying this?  Shit.  Cameron slides and then shouts, "Pants wet, Mama."  Praise Jesus it isn't diarrhea.  Okay really no big deal.  Pants are just slightly damp from the water droplets on the slide.  I pat him on his butt and send him on his way.  

Jack in the meantime, notices that the gate doesn't lock and there is a crystal clear fountain forty yards outside the park that is just sparkling in the afternoon sun.  As I blockade the gate, I notice Cameron sitting at the very top of the slide's entrance.  He stands up, "Hey Mama." "Cameron, pants!!"  The child has taken off his shorts, socks and shoes and then takes off running around the park in his T-Rex underwear.  Can't leave Jack unattended so I pick him up then try to chase Cameron who is laughing hysterically and Jack is in the uncontrollable laughter phase.  I gave up on chasing the kid and instead carried Jack up the jungle gym to retrieve Cameron's clothing.  I tried the walk away method and Cameron just calls after me, "Bye, Mama!"  Eventually he caved and chose to come home with us.  At least there he could take his shirt off too.    

That second child

Thank goodness he didn't let his urine-soaked pants wake him up.

This is his signature expression after taking off his glasses

 I sure do love the feeling of hearing my alarm go off and actually waking up in my own bed.  It rarely happens but one morning it did.  Brian got up and went to work, Cameron was in his own bed snoring away, and it was pretty quiet in Jack's room.  Too quiet.  I turned on the hall light and...NO JACK!  What the hell?  My life is now a Lifetime movie.  He's been kidnapped and we just slept through the whole damn thing.  I went check in the bathroom, in Cameron's room, in the kitchen, in the living room.  Could not find the kid.  Then I went back to check in his room again and almost stepped on the child.  (Top picture)  He crawled out of his bed and made it to the living room where he proceeded to piss all over my rug and settle in for a snooze.  The kid was practically camouflaged.  The saddest part is that I was ever so thankful he found a place to sleep instead of waking me up.  Usually he hits up the club (my bedroom) at about 1:45 looking for his mom to come keep him company while he chats it up.

He is quite the little sneak.  I love that he has Cameron to play with, but I don't love that he uses me to get his way.  Cameron had a bag of chips for snack, and even though Jack mowed through two lunches and a snack he couldn't help but salivate at that yellow bag of greasy goodness.  He approached Cameron and just stood there until Cameron looked away and then he hand started toward the bag.  Cameron took off around the coffee table and Jack chased him.  This continued until Jack came over to me, grabbed my arm and pulled me toward Cameron.  Yes, he gets his momma to fight his battles for him.  I reached in Cameron's bag pulled out a few chips and then gave them to Jack.  Stealing from one child to give to another.  The ultimate betrayal.  Commence meltdown.

Cameron's progress

 

I can't believe the progress this kid has made.  We finally got him to say his name and birthday at 33 months.  Whew!  For about a month or so he would say it when we pointed to it written on his picture book, but it wouldn't translate for him as far as answering the question, "What's your name?"  He's starting a mother's day out program in August so we want him to at least be able to introduce himself since the rest of communication will be a bit shaky.

 

  Here's a diet for you...eat with my son.  In this picture, he's eating a bagel dipped in ketchup.  It was enough to ruin both Jack and I's breakfast.  Occupational Therapy is going okay.  I say "okay" because I love the therapist and I think she's awesome with Cameron, but I think he just has more going on than we can figure out.  Because of his regression in eating, we were referred to a Pediatric Development Specialist.  I had to complete a 20 page packet as a pre-screen.  They wouldn't even schedule an appointment if there weren't enough indicators warranting it.  We got their first available appointment...in AUGUST.  At least we aren't alone, right?  

As far as we (the therapist, pediatrician, and I) can tell, he has some behavioral, some sensory and some control issues.  Here's what I call an issue:  On Thursday during Occupational Therapy, we sat down to eat snack.  I wanted Nicole to help me with tips for his overstuffing food into his mouth so I served the Handi Snacks breadsticks.  So he starts shouting, "Hold it! Hold it!  I hold it!" (control issue)  As fast as Nicole opened it to take the breadsticks out, he grabbed one and shoved the entire thing in his mouth horizontally.  She took the rest of the pack and broke all the breaksticks in half and gave him back the pack.  He took one look at the broken breadsticks and lost it.  Here's what "losing it" looks like for us.  He slams his forehead against the table.  Throws himself off his chair landing on the ceramic tile and then repeatedly bangs his head against the floor.  The OT just looks at me and says, "What do you usually do?  Does it work if you ignore it?"  I just looked at her and said, "He will continue to bang his head against the floor until he busts his lip, his nose bleeds or his head is severely bruised.  Would you ignore that?"  So I picked him up and he realized that he hadn't registered enough pain sensation so he started trying to head butt me.  I managed to calm him down, but at that point he wanted nothing to do with the therapist.  He refused to go anywhere near her, wouldn't touch her iPad or phone, wouldn't play with beans or play-doh.  Nothing.  In his eyes, she became a bad person because she ruined the one thing he likes to eat.  (Any takers for a baby-sitter at this point???)  So this is what we deal with all day long, everyday.  Avoiding and containing the meltdown.  As a matter of fact, he hasn't wanted breadsticks since that occasion.  I guess it's because he's worried we may break them.  I hope August will bring us some answers, but until that time we will only be serving bite size portions of everything.  It's like a wedding reception at my house, which isn't so bad.  Entertainment is provided.