I haven't been blogging much lately. I haven't really known what to say.

The day Mark turned 18 months old, I took him to the doctor and expressed my concerns about his lack of speech. He has picked up one or two words since he was born, and then eventually never used them again. He doesn't say more than "mama" and "dada" and doesn't always use them to address us. It's been frustrating, but we figured it would come with time--he babbled so early that he had to pick it up eventually, right?

Just a few days after I graduated, we had our referral appointment with a local resource center. He was exactly 19 months old and they determined him to be 5 months in expressive speech and 7 months in receptive speech.

More than that, he is only 13 months in fine motor (small movements like grabbing), 15-18 months in gross motor (large movements, like running and jumping), 7 months in cognitive abilities, 12 months in social/emotional skills, and 9-13 months in adaptive/self-help skills. He is likely Autistic but will not be diagnosed until 3.

We have been put into a program called FACES ("Facing Autism's Challenges by Expanding Skills") and ABA Therapy 5 days a week. We're starting out at 1 hour a day but could be upped to 3 if he's comfortable with it and they feel he needs it.

I'm happy that we got him help instead of ignoring it. I'm happy that they referred him when they didn't truly understand the full extent. I'm happy that he has been acknowledged so early and may be able to slide by without ever being diagnosed, should the therapy benefit him enough.

But I'm sad. I don't know why. He's amazing, just as amazing as before the news and I love him with every fiber of my being, but this changes so much. It changes how people see him. It changes how we have to go about things in life. It changes the way he'll be treated in so many different circumstances.

It makes it clear why he is the way he is. Signs that were meaningless to me before are glaringly obvious now. I just hope that they won't be in a few months.

My kid is awesome and so is every other child ever, especially Autistic children. They're amazing and all of you who have been through this with your children are amazing. It's hard. It's not something I ever imagined, or ever wanted to. I'm just taking it one day at a time.

We're working with the best team of people that I could ever imagine, and I'm grateful for that. We're lucky to have the resources that we do, and we're lucky to have each other.

Dear Mark,

I love you. You are the cutest little boy in the world, you're funny, and you're just...fun. We can play with Legos for hours, run around the back yard throwing dirt, play in the pool, or lie around cuddling and watching your favorite shows. We can find entertainment in ridiculous little things, and crack up like it's the funniest thing in the world. Your laugh brings me so much joy.

With that said, you're a little punk sometimes. I know you're getting teeth, but please stop biting me; my shoulder can't take anymore. I know you're tired, but stop screaming! If you're annoyed, there's no reason to stomp on my laptop screen, and I know you want to run around in circles and get into strangers' purses at the doctor's office, but...no. Just no, kid.

It's so amazing watching you grow up and learn new things. You're so much fun now that you're getting bigger...but you're definitely more of a butt, too; there's no need to lie about it. We all know that toddlers are obnoxious, even if I wanted to pretend that you were going to be the sweetest little boy on earth (which you can be--kisses, anyone?).

I just want you to know that I love you and I will continue to love you for the rest of my life. Eventually I'm going to get this parenting thing right and figure out how to get you to listen to the word, "No." I keep hoping that you'll learn to live with it and stop testing your limits, but I'm sure that's not true--look at your parents! Either way, you're going to grow up with an amazing character, even if you can be a punk sometimes.

No matter what, my baby, just keep being amazing.

Love, Mom

Mr. Blue Eyes

I've been so busy lately. I don't know how I have time to eat or sleep or really do anything besides homework and raising a toddler. I have so much keyboarding work that I feel like I'll have carpal tunnel by the time these last four weeks are over, and I still have to complete a final project, final tests, and everything else that comes with my normal workload. I'm a little overwhelmed.

I just wanted to update so you understand why I haven't been here much lately.

Mark is a year and a half old as of Wednesday. We had his 18 month appointment the same day, and we found out some things we were really not happy to hear.

I brought up that we were concerned about Mark's speech development; he doesn't seem to have any non-name words and doesn't respond to his name most the time (though I think he's just stubborn), though he should have up to twenty words in his vocabulary by now. He's being referred to the children's hospital for a hearing test and somewhere in town to see if he qualifies for speech therapy. We don't know anything yet, and they might determine that he's on track still, she's just taking precautions as early as possible to ensure that we can deal with potential problems should they arise.

We're obviously going to be participating in whatever they want us to just to make sure everything is okay. I'm so stressed out...I have so much to do and now I feel like I've failed him somehow. Maybe that's ridiculous but I honestly just want to cry every time I think about it. Maybe I spent too much time on the computer? Maybe having untreated postpartum depression for the first few months of his life has hurt his development? What if it's hurt our relationship?

I need to stop thinking about this. We'll be ready when it's time to take him, and we'll be ready to take on whatever we have to. If they say he's okay I'll be so relieved, and if they don't, then at least we'll be working on it early, instead of waiting until he's in school and making his life much more difficult than it needs to be...right?

We're going to be just fine. I'll be back to post again, I promise. Just wanted you guys to know everything that's been occupying my mind lately.


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If you get the chance, please check out my friend LaShell's blog at Not Your Typical Housewife. She's pregnant with her first baby, a little boy, and she's awesome all around! I'll be spotlighting her soon and maybe stealing her genius for a guest post since I'm a little preoccupied right now.

Also, enjoy some pictures of Mark and his daddy. :)

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Grabbing a handful of dirt...

...and throwing the dirt at his dad!

Sometimes I feel like becoming a mother has completely overridden my sense of self; I've lost my identity as a separate person, and now I'm just "mom." I'm the person who gets someone's food and changes their diapers, who can't go anywhere alone for two seconds (including the bathroom!), and who deals with tantrums 62 hours a day. I'm usually covered in someone else's half-eaten food or bodily fluids, and I often fight a little person to just sit still for a while and relax (isn't that the best part of the day?). There are definitely negatives to being a parent.

Then I remember that I have this whole new identity: the woman who someone completely relies on, who he looks to for comfort when he's unsure of a situation, who he loves wholeheartedly. We're best friends. I get to watch him develop his own personality, enjoy his excitement as he experiences things for the first time and falls in love with them. I get to guide him through life, to teach him how to be who he is, and the whole time he's teaching me.

I don't do much outside of being a mom, honestly. I don't have many friends. I don't go anywhere aside from the store (which I don't do without him) and school (which isn't often, due to online classes mixed in). I don't go out on weekends or have girls' nights out, or spend my days downtown just because I can. There are days that I wish I could, but then he starts telling me stories or giving me kisses and I know that, even if given the choice, I would deny it most days. I'm exactly where I want to be.

There are always things we want to change, but for me these are things like furthering my education, moving into our own home, owning things that would make our lives more convenient. For me, these things are taking my son to Disneyland and the zoo and live shows to meet his favorite characters, and giving him the things he wants just to see the smile on his face.

I've completely lost my sense of who I was before I had a baby, but I've gained this sense of who I am now: someone's mom. I have a reason to do the things I do. He's my reason to be.

Today Daniel had a barbecue with some friends, and obviously Mark and I were there. We got covered in food and dirt and bubbles (the "stack-able" kind that stay around much longer than they should), and it so much fun. And messy. Damn, was it messy.

Crappy dinosaur-phone picture of bubbles that you can't see.
All the spots on the ground, those are them.

Anyway, Mark decided to stop taking naps a few weeks ago, and therefore he sleeps pretty early now. Around 8 o'clock, I pointed out that it was about his usual bedtime and that I should probably get him home, especially after a day of playing in the heat. He was starting to get to that "I hate everything" stage that only tired kids have perfected and no mom wants to deal with that even a minute longer than they can help, am I right?

I decided to wipe Mark down to the best of my ability in case he fell asleep in the car, which he often does. Because of his eczema, we have to use gentle soaps to ensure that his skin will not be all scaly the next day, and I had forgotten to bring it with us or to leave some there. I told Daniel that was I going to put Mark in his pajamas for the ride home; "If he falls asleep in the car, then at least I feel like he's decently clean and comfortable," I told him, "and if he doesn't, he'll get a bath as soon as we get there."

He looked at me and said, "That's a great idea, babe. You've got this mom thing figured out." And he said it so lovingly that I couldn't help but melt.

I don't, though. I don't know if anyone ever has this mom thing figured out. We learn as we go and every single moment is a surprise even if we planned it down to a "T"--our kids don't follow plans. And then someday there will be second babies and we'll have to plan all over again because human beings just insist on being individuals.

I really like that I make it seem that way, though. I'm happy to be a mom, even if an imperfect one. Maybe the joy that comes from really loving something (or someone) is enough.

Here's some fun info: ever since Mark became mobile, he has liked to hike over to the mirror and chat with himself. He used to get frustrated that the walker wouldn't go to that particular part of the house, but he loved babbling story after story to him.

Anyway, Mark is definitely not going to pleased with the Boy in the Mirror this October.

Because we really just had this conversation.

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Daniel: Babe! Mark has to be Chuckie for Halloween this year! It will be perfect and so easy to find his outfit.

Me: Like scary Chuckie??

Daniel: Haha yeah. He's almost the perfect size. It'll be awesome.

Me: Haha maaaaybe.

Daniel: Just picture it.

Me: What even made you have this revelation?

Him: This picture.

I don't get it. He's so sweet and innocent, eating candy.

Me: And that is how we will scar our child for life.

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Then again, maybe it will be adorable. Am I a terrible person for even considering this?

I know I've done only black and white and light play, but I promise to have something brighter soon. I've just been confined to the indoors because Mark and I have both been sick so much, and my house has the lamest lighting you've ever seen. Swear. I'll get out to the park soon and make up for this darkness. :P

In other news, my son is so. freaking. cute. I just can't get over it. The boy loves baths more than most of his toys, and he pretty much begs for one at least sixty times once a day. He'll walk into the bathroom after to you when you're putting something away or, ahem, heading in to do your business, and then try to climb over the side. And then I get to laugh while simultaneously freaking out about busted faces and broken bones. Not cool, boy.

Also, can someone please tell me what is so cool about coasters? Because my son will not leaves ours alone.

I don't even know.

So it’s 2013…that means that I get to go back to (my last semester of) school here in a few weeks and constantly have to change my 2 to a 3. It’s inevitable, really.

I never stick to my goals but here are a couple that I hope to accomplish (eventually):

1. Lose more of this baby/Thanksgiving/Christmas/New Years junk food weight. A girl can dream. 
2. Completely familiarize myself with my camera and its manual mode; acquire the new accessories that I want.
3. Finish school and start looking for a decent career, car, and home.

And, uh…well, maybe that should be all. I’m sure there’s more that I want to accomplish but the fact is that I’m just too notoriously flaky. You didn’t hear that from me.

Anyway, happy new year. :)

I've been promising a post for a long time, and I'm sorry that I haven't come through. Things have been chaotic, which wasn't unexpected with a newborn. I feel like I should be coming here to brag about this adorable little boy on a regular basis, but I'm sure I do that enough on Facebook anyway.

So let's talk about something real.

I've been battling a severe depression in the few months since I had my baby. I feel like nothing is going right. I don't have a job, which doesn't mean that Mark isn't getting the things he needs, only that I'm not helping to provide those things for him. I don't have a home specifically for my family, which means that Daniel and I still don't live together, and that's killing me every day. It's hard raising a baby almost completely alone; it's even harder knowing that your partner wants nothing more than to help you but can't, because he isn't allowed to stay with you. I resent that fact.

No one should have to fight depression and raise a baby at the same time, but so many women do. I'm sorry to everyone who is suffering along with me, because it's one of the most painful things I've ever experienced. I'm glad that it's not hindering my ability to care of my child, because I don't know what I would do if it did. I already feel so guilty knowing that I'm sad at times that I should be happy for him, or that I blame myself so harshly for these little things that no one would be able to help, not even myself.

It's hard not being able to talk about how you feel because everyone thinks it's a cry for attention. Which, maybe it is; maybe I do need attention once in a while, because no one should have to suffer through these kinds of feelings alone. But I feel like speaking them out loud makes me weak, totally pathetic, and I feel like I'm supposed to keep them inside to be a good mom. I feel like I have to keep looking strong even though I've never felt so weak in my entire life.

As far as I can tell it's not overtaking my relationship with Mark, at least not in a way that's damaging, but it's definitely overtaking the rest of my life. I feel like I can't interact with people like I used to, although that may just be the fact that I am such a different person that I was a year ago, even just a few months ago.

I love this little boy more than anything on the planet, and I'm so thankful that his dad is still here for both of us. We've had our problems, again mostly thanks to the depression, but we've battled through them together, and, at least at the present time, we're going stronger than we ever have. This is helping, and I'm more thankful to have Daniel in my life than I will ever be able to explain to him.

More positives? I'm working on a job that I hope I get, because this means so much more for us in the near future. A home, a better car, whatever our baby wants instead of just what he needs. Breastfeeding is going amazingly well. My son is beautiful. And Daniel has been telling me the most amazing things that probably don't need to be said, but which lift me up in ways that I've really been needing. Like reminders that this is the longest and best relationship he's ever had, that I'm beautiful, that he's happier than he's ever been.

I needed to know.



PS: Okay, now to 'brag' a little bit. :)

12/7/11, this (almost) my favorite face. We call it the turtle because of the way he stretches his neck out. :)

12/8/11, first shoes

12/17/11

12/18/11

12/21/11, big yawn

12/24/11, two months

1/10/12

1/10/12, with daddy

1/10/12, all of us.

This only includes a few pictures from December and January. Trust me, I have about a million more. He was born on the 24th of October so I will try putting together a post with pictures from birth until now. It's amazing how much he's grown already!

I hope you all haven't given up on this blog, and I'm sorry that I probably did there for a while. I really need to update things around here. This isn't the best post and it's pretty depressing but it's something I needed to get out, and now it's something that's actually here. I probably need somewhere to get these thoughts out of my head again, so I'm going to try to do this regularly.

Here's hoping.

I'm a few days late, as always. I've been stressed...I have a lot to do, and I keep starting it and not finishing, only doing a little bit at a time. I stop because I hurt and start again because I'm stressed, and I repeat the same cycle over and over and over every day or two. I guess the blog just hasn't really been on my mind because preparing for Mark has taken over everything else.

Anyway, I'm 35 weeks as of about 3 days ago and that's scary. I haven't finished cleaning my room out...I haven't set the crib up (now that it's here and not at the apartment)...I haven't put Mark's clothes in drawers... I haven't done anything! Well, at least not as far as actually having things ready for him. Right now I'm just cleaning out my things to make room for his so that I can do the rest of that. I've got everything but it's still all in storage boxes and unwashed and needing to be folded. Sigh. I have a lot of work ahead of me.

Totally huge 35 week me

Baha! Ain't that the truth. Tons and tons and tons of work ahead of me for the rest of my life. But hey, I'm up for the challenge. :)

I don't want to be pregnant anymore. I feel huge and uncomfortable and unattractive. And I feel like I'm carrying around a bowling ball...I swear that in the last few days he's gotten heavier, that he's kicking me harder than ever. It hurts. I can't wait to get him out of me...because I want to be back to (semi-) normal, but also because I want to cuddle his brains out.

Ha, no, not really. That sounds violent. But I do really want to snuggle him. It's going to be great.

It still doesn't feel real, and now that I'm starting to see a number of friends deliver their babies and I'm getting to smile over their pictures, I keep commenting and realizing, "Whoa, I'm going to have one of those." But it still never really sinks in until I see the next picture, make the next comment, and then it's only a reality for a few minutes. I keep losing it again...I don't know what I'm going to feel like when I have all of his things set up in my room. Or when I go into labor. Or when I'm in the hospital. Or when he's actually sleeping in that crib, in my room, and I can actually look at him.

I'm so excited and so nervous and so scared.

Right now kind of sucks. I can't stay with Daniel and he can't stay here with me. It makes things hard, and I honestly do get really sad and lonely (especially considering he's pretty much the only person I leave the house for anymore...sigh). I can't stand it...he's my baby's dad and I can't even cuddle with him at night or coax him into giving me a back rub or anything. Haha.

But really, I just want to spend time with him. It'd be really nice to be able to talk to him when I'm feeling scared or to be hugged when I'm crying. It'd be nice just to feel safe next to him at night. It's hurting me thinking about everything we're missing out on...like our last moments alone for, what, forever? The last few chances to have real conversations and to hold each other without having to jump up to change or feed or bathe Mark.

And what about when the baby's coming and I can't get a hold of him? He doesn't have his own phone right now, so I guess I'll have to go beat down their door, have to go to the hospital alone and hope someone gets the news back to him if he's not home. Then of course when I'm all sore and whatnot back at home after the hospital he won't be around to help take care of me and to spend the first few nights with his baby.

It's thoughts like these that are really depressing me. How can we be a family if we can't even act like one? If we're separated the entire time? I don't want things to be like this anymore.

Today I'm 34 weeks and, what, 3 days pregnant? I have 39 days left until the due date. I can remember reaching the 100 day mark and being so excited. And then getting into the 60's and that exciting me, and I remember talking about the fact that I couldn't wait to cut that in half, to get into the 30's.

Welp, yeah, now I'm terrified. I told this to my OB the other day and all he said was, "It's your first baby? Well, honestly? I think you're going to find it really boring." You know, all that 'first labors are longer' and 'you'll find the pain isn't as bad as you expect it to be.' Thing is, I don't know if I should feel comforted or completely unrelieved. I mean, he had to check first...he probably knew that I wouldn't believe him if I had done it before. Ha!

But seriously, I hope I can get through it. And I want to do it with the epidural, have I ever explained that here? Obviously there are fads now with this, but that's not why I don't want to do it. I don't want to do it because it's so many major fears all wrapped up into one really, really scary procedure! I'm terrified of needles and I'm terrified of people touching my spine (they want to stick a needle into my spine nononono). I'm also afraid of even having my mouth numbed at the dentist because it takes forever to wear off and I feel like I'm never going to gain feeling back again. Why would I want that done to my whole lower body? And then what if the hospital catches on fire or the roof caves in and I can't walk? HUH? What then?

Okay, so I hear hospitals have wheel chairs and that maybe someone would help me out of there. But that's not the point. The point is nonononono.

Daniel thinks I'm ridiculous. I think I'm saving my own life. (Haha, drama.)

Moving on... I'm sorry. I know I say that a lot lately. And I know that I said my computer was back up and that I was going to be posting more, and yet I still missed...well, a lot. Things have been super crazy lately. I'm having a baby, dude. I have to prepare for him and I don't even know how to do that sometimes.

Daniel moved out of his apartment (problems with the roommates...it's a long story) and is staying with friends, so I'm still in my 10x10 room in my dad's house, where I have to fit not only whatever furniture I want to keep - I mean, the room was already filled to the brim - but also whatever I can stuff in here for the baby. Honestly, I don't know how I'm going to do it, and I'm going insane hoping for an apartment soon. Or at least just more space, wherever we end up...sigh.

We're pretty much ready, though, as far as things go. Mentally? I don't know if I'll ever be completely prepared there. This is so new and I'm still really afraid I'm going to screw something up, but hopefully I raise him well enough that he can at least function properly in society. Oh man, I'm terrible.

How are all of you? What am I forgetting to say? Let's get back to chatting like we used to...ask me some questions or something, remind me what I'm forgetting to share. For me this is all old news, and I can't remember whether I've said things on here or just been repeating them so many times in other conversations that I feel like I have, ya know?

Mark's perfect by the way. Perfect heartbeat, growing perfectly. He's going to be gorgeous. :)