Thursday, November 17, 2011

Things start to get a little more real....

...tomorrow I want to set up an appointment for us to tour Bennett Park Montessori, to get Eliot into the lottery system for the fall. School? Already?

I am not sure whether or not I'm using her condition as an excuse to be apprehensive about sending her off (everyone knows I'm a little nutty about sharing her), but it definitely has my mind going. It would be a whole new group of people, where I feel like we'd start from square one not knowing who we should tell, or to keep things more secretive, or just let it ride.
This is definitely where it comes in handy to have Dr. Mazur around...I'll be sure to pick his brain and get his thoughts.
It totally felt like the day would never come where I'd have to be thinking about school, and peers, but probably because I didn't realize that she could start school....actual school...when she is just three years old! 

I feel bad that this blog is horribly updated, because when I started it, I thought I'd have tons to say and think about what she has going on, or that lots of new things would come up....but truth is, most of the time I don't even think about it. We are lucky that her health is seemingly otherwise perfect, because I've said before, most kids that have this going on have many other things going on as well. She does have tests for certain things that might arise, but as time goes on those tests are performed more infrequently. 

We're also lucky in that, while she is not COMPLETELY over the top girly, she loves to wear dresses, and sparkly things, and tends to gravitate toward dolls and dress up. That's not to say, that once the dolls are dressed up, they don't become the victims of a ferocious dinosaur attack, or end up on a train ride....but at least they look good doing it.

I feel like she still seems pretty oblivious to gender, which I think is kinda awesome....but I also can't wait for her to be able to verbalize how she feels. Anyway, for a blog that gets updated twice a year, I apologize again for it being totally lame. But it's also pretty great that it's totally lame.

Oh yeah! She's totally potty trained! Second best day of my life!

Monday, May 2, 2011

Eliot turns two tomorrow!

At 7:10pm tomorrow, it'll be two years since Eliot was born!

Two years ago, with Daddy and Gramma at our side, we were told "We're not sure whether your baby is a boy or a girl, and for now we'll refer to the baby as 'the baby', and you shouldn't name 'the baby' and you probably shouldn't talk to anyone about the birth of 'the baby'."

Three hours later, we met Dr. Tom Mazur, one of a handful of pediatric sexual psychologists, who happens to work and live within a mile of us. He's amazing, and talked us through those first few days, and helped to push to bring you home four days later. You were in the NICU those first four days, with actual sick babies, and that was really hard....with medical students walking by, taking notes on your rare condition. Dr. Mazur says you're the second he's seen there in 30 years, and the other is well into his 20's.

Your condition is called mixed gonadal dysgenesis, or mosaic Turner's syndrome, or 45xo46xy, and the best of my research has concluded that you are about one in a quarter million. I keep saying we should play the lottery :)
You've lucked out, healthwise, as most babies with your condition are prone to ear infections, hearing impairments, heart conditions, infant growth problems, thyroid issues, and swollen hands and feet, among other things.
You've also lucked out with being surrounded by the most accepting and supportive friends and family. Your "Aunt Nicole and Elisa" were the first ones to barge in and see you and ease our minds that everything will be fine! And they are. They're smart girls, and we're lucky to know them!

I'm sorry that the future might not always be such a smooth ride. I worry about the surgeries and growth and sex hormones that you're going to have to endure, and that you'll feel different than your peers.

But....that's not important right now!
Right now you love Toy Story, and the (stupid) Fresh Beat Band, and playing any musical instrument we can find you. You love the dogs, to snuggle (especially Louie and Ollie) and torment (especially Shelby). You love to play with your Jack and Sally dolls, and Woody and Jessie dolls, always making sure they hold hands. You love making any little character ride on horses, and apparently when horses walk, they say "Beeloop beeloop beelop". And for some reason, you really love helping me clean poop in the yard, pointing out the "doodoo".  I just wish when I miss some, you wouldn't bring it to me as a surprise. It's hard to get mad when you're so proud of yourself, though.

You love bananas and eggs and chocolate milk. You love coloring with your chalk on the chalkboard. And the cabinets. And the walls, and floors, and dogs, and my face. I always have to check in the rear view mirror before I get out of the car, that I don't have a blue streak across my face. You'd rather be outside and naked than indoor and dressed. You love going for walks, but don't understand why you can't try to get into every parked car we pass.

You break the ice with other babies and kids by tickling them. You're a daredevil. But sometimes apprehensive. You're so independent, but cuddly and sometimes needy. You can be very patient like Daddy, or quick tempered like me. You're so smart and calculated, but not very wordy. 

Milo is your best buddy, but you also love hugging and kissing his baby sister. You also love going upstairs to his apartment and stealing all their food, stuff you wouldn't eat if your life depended on it if I cooked it and served it down here. Not sure what you're trying to tell me.

You love to play with Dad, and no one is funnier (except Shelby when you hit her with your vacuum), but when you're hurt, you're a momma's girl, through and through.

Basically, I've said it before, you're the coolest little kid ever and the most crazy amazing thing that's ever happened to me.

Happy Birthday, little bean.

On a side note---who'd have thought I'd be able to cook and raise another human that would make it two years? Only 16 to go!