six years

Dear Caleb,

On the one hand, six is not a very big number. I often find myself forgetting that you are still very young, so if my expectations for you sometimes feel unrealistic, I apologize. But on the other hand, six is a big deal, and so are you. On this day six years ago, when you entered my life, and during those first moments that I held you in my arms, I knew that you were a special boy, a gift sent especially to me and to our family. How could I not expect great things of you? And, I'm pleased to tell you, you have lived up to a great many of them, and that makes me so proud.

You are a hard worker who is stubbornly determined. You are shy and sensitive and thoughtful of others. You are observant and bright and are destined, I know, for great things.

But you are not without your faults. You are a tease who is adept at finding and pushing other people's buttons. Your stubbornness has yet to be fully broken and it often gets you into trouble. Sometimes I feel that I have no other option than to throw up my hands in intense frustration with you. That gleam in your honey brown eyes and the sly upturn of your toothless smile just might drive me to an early grave. I would encourage you, Caleb, to continually strive to be better, to reach that full potential I know that is in you.

I love you, Caleb. I have always loved you and I always will love you. I encourage you to keep trying to be a good brother and obedient child. Remember to smile because your smile always brightens my day. Happy birthday, my sweet, sweet boy.

Love,
Mama

The birthday celebrations started a day early with a visit to the awesome Cincinnati Zoo.

 The birthday banner and a small pile of presents greeted Caleb when he came downstairs in the morning.

After eyeing the box mix on several different trips to Target, Caleb desperately wanted me to make him a brightly colored tie dyed cake. Although it tasted fine, it didn't look particularly appetizing. In fact, after I garnished it with sprinkles and Dum-Dum sucker "balloons," it was only fitting that it was dubbed the Clown Cake. The things I do for my boys....

 

 He blew out all six candles!

 His bike, which he received as an early gift a few weeks ago, was his main gift. But it was accented today with a few smaller things -- a small pair of binoculars, a frisbee, a basketball, a horn for his bike, some Where's Waldo themed notebooks, and a few shirts from Grandma Nancy and Grandpa Dave, and a ten-spot from Grandma Joyce and Grandpa Gary. He's thrilled about each gift -- apparently all his dreams came through this year.

After the gifts were opened, we went outside to try out the frisbee. Even with the learning curve, it's a hit. And it doesn't hurt that they have a huge yard to play with it in.

the first day of school

Alternately titled, "I Survived Their Summer Vacation."

As I climbed into bed on Wednesday night, my relief was actually audible with the knowledge that I had survived the boys' summer vacation. But as the early hours of the first day of school rolled around on Thursday morning, I remembered just how exhausting those first days of school can be, what with the pre-dawn wake-up alarms, my urge to make that traditional batch of chocolate chip cookies for an after school snack, and the forms -- oh, the mountain of forms requiring my contact information, permission, and signature!

These last two days have been a whirlwind, and I've occasionally had to remind myself that I've been looking forward to this all summer. But now that Caleb the Kindergartner has been eased in to elementary school life (which required later drop offs and earlier pick ups than the rest of the student body, including his older brother, that ultimately translated to extra drop offs and pick ups for me), and the majority of the forms have been filled out and are ready to be returned, I think a more calm routine will be established.

 The second grader!

Garrett is in 2nd grade this year, and thrilled to be there. He quickly eased right back into our pre-summer way of doing things. He's been moving up with pretty much the same group of kids, so not only is he well-seasoned in the routines of the school, but he gets to be there with all his friends. I don't know much about his teachers (I only just learned their names today), but I've already gathered from a few non-verbal clues from them at pick-up that, for good or bad, Garrett has already made himself known in the classroom.

The kindergartener!

As mentioned above, this year Caleb joins his brother at PS 185. He has so far been acclimating better than I expected he would. For weeks he's been assuring us that he was excited to start kindergarten, but when the first day came and he, along with the rest of the school's newest students, were gathered in the auditorium to be divvied out to their respective classes, he became more and more frozen with fear. Being in the first class numerically, and the first student alphabetically, his was the first name called up to go join his teacher. I thought in that moment of sudden panic that he would lose his breakfast. But he didn't. His teacher comes highly regarded (and from what I've seen of her so far, she seems to be an excellent fit for Caleb), and she welcomed him right over. When I saw him again a few hours later he announced that he'd had a great day and was looking forward to going back again. His first full day of school will be Monday, and I'm sure that will require some getting used to on his part, but the fact that these first days have gone so well reassures me that he'll continue to be just fine.

 The wannabe!

Oh, you called?

Next week my days with only Matthew and Daniel at home will begin. I'm anticipating a little more quiet around the house, but at the same time I'm prepared to be disappointed in that regard. After all, infants and 2-year-olds come with their own kinds of...fun. I'm also a little wary of the bigger boys' 2:00 pick up time, which most days falls right in the middle of nap time, but hopefully we'll find some way to adjust. Either way, I'm looking forward to more one-on-one time with my two littles (and maybe also a little more time to tackle my quilting projects).

So here's to a new school year! With any luck, we'll all come out on top and get an education in the process.

one whole hand

Dear Caleb,

You've been counting down the days to your fifth birthday for weeks, which made the fact that you woke up this morning feeling feverish even sadder than it would have been otherwise. You did your best to keep your chin up, though, which I know wasn't an easy thing to do, and on several occasions claimed that you were having a great day, even when it was clear that you felt miserable. You didn't want to let what would be diagnosed later in the day during a visit to our local urgent care as a classic case of strep throat stop you from having fun, so after a dose of ibuprofin, we headed to Manhattan's west side to fulfill your birthday dream with a round of miniature golf on the pier. And once your first teaspoon of amoxicillin had been administered, you were thrilled to unwrap your gift of Magna-Tiles and start building with them before it was time to blow out birthday candles and eat cake.

Though you are incredibly stubborn, you are also very sensitive and mindful of others, particularly, lately, with your baby brother, Daniel. It's been such a privilege for me to watch you grow and blossom these last five years into a boy I can't help but be proud of. You are determined, hard working, and surprisingly attentive to details. You love to solve puzzles and it's a rare thing for you to consider giving up. Just this week, with very little instruction from me, you learned how to tie your own shoes, and you couldn't be more pleased with this accomplishment. In two weeks you will start kindergarten, and while I am a little fearful that your natural shyness, occasional inflexibility and subsequent angry explosions will make the adjustment more difficult, I am also so excited for you to embark on this chapter of your childhood. You are destined for great things, Caleb. Remember that as you confront challenges and overcome obstacles.

I love you, dear boy. Be patient, with me and with those around you. Though it might sometimes feel like you are lost in the middle, please know that you are not. There is and always will be a special place in my heart carved out especially for you.

Love,
Mama

wrapping up the school year

Well, it's official: school is out and summer has started. Part of me is glad for a change of pace. This last school year has been a difficult one for me, what with two separate school pick ups, OT and speech therapy appointments to get back and forth from, and a pregnancy, in addition to all the other aspects of life during a school year. I'm a little worn out.

The rest of me, though, is a little terrified at the prospect of having all four of them home all day every day where it's hot and swelteringly humid outside and cramped and crowded inside. I have a rough plan of how we'll survive, which entails regular morning park visits, followed by lunch and early afternoon quiet/nap time, and a little bit of homework/reading time when it's too hot to be outside.

But enough about summer. It will happen whether I'm ready or not. Onto the pomp and circumstance!

Two days ago, Caleb wrapped up his pre-kindergarten year. He went to a small nearby school called the Tiny Tots Playhouse, which he seemed to quite enjoy. Late last week his teachers held a simple Stepping Up ceremony that I attended.

 The pre-k graduates.

 The face Caleb pulled while the rest of his classmates smiled and sang a few songs. I'm still trying to decide if he was happy to be there.

 With his two friends, Lola and Mia.

 With his friend, Sabil.

With one of his teachers, Ms. Adele.

 And with Mom (and Daniel).

Ready for kindergarten!

As we walked home from Tiny Tots for the last time he said, "It's happy and sad, right?" I couldn't have summed it up better myself. He made a lot of great friends, absorbed the awesomeness of Magna-Tiles nearly every day during centers time, and learned a lot about how a school works. Now onto kindergarten!

In addition to pre-k, Caleb also this week wrapped up his OT and speech therapy sessions. He'll resume them again in the fall, only this time they'll take place at school so I, happily, won't have to cart him to and from them. I've been kind of "meh" about his OT experience and am actually relieved that it's over. Speech with Miss Zarina, on the other hand.... She was wonderful (and she came to our home for his sessions, which greatly added to my love for her). We will both really miss her.

Miss Zarina

Today was Garrett's last day of 1st grade at P.S. 185. He had a fantastic year with amazing teachers. I attribute his marked improvement and intense love for reading almost entirely on Mrs. Caramanico, who also encouraged his love of science. She, along with the other classroom teachers, Mrs. Clinton and Mrs. Blake, were the best things that could have happened to Garrett this year, and we will both miss them. But he's as excited as ever to be a second grader in the fall!

 With Mrs. Caramanico.

 Look! He's reading chapter books! He kept his nose buried in Mr. Popper's Penguins and finished it last night after starting it only a week ago.

Garrett's 1st grade year was also generously sprinkled with wonderful friends. Here he is with his best girl friend, Ava. These two were apparently partners in crime, especially when they were assigned to sit at the same table. (Isn't she adorable?!)

 Making silly faces with his best boy friends, Ben and Abel.

This afternoon, to celebrate their last days of school, I took them to get Slurpees at 7-Eleven. In the process we unfortunately managed to ruin a lot of clothes, both from cherry-red Slurpee drippings and heat-induced dye transfers (from my shirt onto Daniel's while I was wearing him in the Ergo). Hopefully the rest of my attempts at fun this summer don't turn out as disastrous because, as exhausting as I know it will be, I really would like to make our days as memorable as possible, given our circumstances. So send your prayers and best wishes this way because I think I'm gonna need them.

cut from the same mold

When people see Daniel, one of the first things they notice is how much he looks like his brothers.

And it's true: while they each have their own unique features, they were definitely also cut from the same mold.

Can you tell them apart?

Garrett

Caleb

Matthew

Daniel

these faces

And then there are days when I need to remind myself of just how much I really do love these faces.

my puzzle and my delight

Caleb. Of all my boys, he is currently my most puzzling. Trying to figure out his needs and the best way to advocate for him consumes my thoughts. Just when I finally decided to go with my gut and disregard the professional suggestions that he receive physical therapy services, I go to his parent teacher conference.

"We know Caleb is receiving speech," his teachers began the meeting, "but is he getting OT as well?"

My heart sank; I knew exactly where this conversation was headed. I replied that he was, two times a week.

"Oh good," they sighed. "Because his behavior in the classroom suggests he really needs it. Maybe you should see about upping the amount he gets. You know -- be his advocate."  

(Side note: Grrr....I really don't like it when people feel the need to tell me to be my child's advocate, as if I'm not already. Of course I advocate for my child! But if what I as his mother see that he needs ends up being different than what you see, that doesn't mean I'm not advocating for him.)

Even though completely discontinuing occupational therapy for Caleb was my plan for his kindergarten year, I decided to hear them out. It turns out that Caleb, who is a button pusher by nature, likes to get annoyingly close to other students, but flips out when others get close to or touch him, and it is sometimes a problem in the classroom. Okay, I thought. I can see Caleb doing this sort of thing, which of course doesn't make it acceptable, but does it dictate a need for an increase in OT?

When I originally gave the okay for Caleb to be evaluated for OT services it was because of a concern I had with his fine motor skills. The evaluation proved that he was in fact lacking in that area, and also that he a few sensory issues. I didn't want him falling behind or getting unnecessarily frustrated in school because he couldn't grip a pencil, so we went ahead and accepted the services he qualified for. He has enjoyed his twice weekly sessions, and I've seen such an improvement in the areas I was most concerned about that continuing with the OT in kindergarten just didn't seem necessary. But was it? Based on his teacher's observations, was I missing something?

"But he's a really bright boy," they added, almost as an afterthought. (Why couldn't they have opened the meeting with that?!)

His teacher's concerns troubled me, and that afternoon I asked his therapist for her input as well. She agreed that it was an issue, although she didn't indicate that she thought it was anything major, and told me they were working on it. She also gave me some suggestions of things we could do at home to help. But something -- and I couldn't put my finger on exactly what -- didn't make sense. To me, Caleb's actions at school just did not add up to a necessity for more OT. Even so, the next day at school pick-up, I told his teachers that we'd spoken to his therapist and were also taking some measures at home, and could she please keep me posted on his behavior in class so I could know if it was helping?

And then it hit me. Behavior. This was, in Caleb's case, by and large a behavior issue, and all the OT in the world wouldn't fix it. I started to think more about Caleb as a person, not a problem, and I realized further that we were also dealing with a social issue.

Of my three, Caleb is the shyest. He's a homebody who is truly only comfortable at home with his family. He only flips out with other people when he has left his comfort zone, which is probably why others notice it more than I do. Again, this doesn't make his behavior acceptable, but it also doesn't dictate a need for more OT. In fact, when taking this part of his personality into consideration, it would probably be too much of an adjustment for him to be constantly pulled in and out of the classroom for therapy sessions. Caleb is a boy who likes to be settled, and disrupting that more than absolutely necessary would only frustrate him.

When the pieces of this part of the Caleb Puzzle started coming together, I felt an incredible peace, the confidence from which I plan to take with me to his upcoming kindergarten IEP meeting. As puzzling as he might be, he is my child, and I do know him better than it sometimes seems, even to me. And my gut tells me that more, or even any, OT would be more detrimental than helpful. Speech, on the other hand, I plan to continue, and maybe even up the amount of, because it's clear that he does need that. And who knows -- maybe clearer speech will boost his own confidence so as to widen his comfort zones and dispel the social anxiety.

Caleb, despite what his teachers might think, is far more delightful than he is problematic. He is highly imaginative, goofy, and he has an infectious laugh, but is also very sensitive to the needs of others, and has recently developed the sweetest relationship with Matthew. He is caring and, when he's in the right mood, wants nothing more than to be a "helpful boy" for his uncomfortably pregnant mother.

Speaking of, Caleb's perception of this pregnancy has been particularly charming. He has spent all fall and winter gearing up for a baby brother in the spring, so last week when the first day of spring rolled around, he spent the entire day wondering when that baby would show up. "Is the baby here yet?" "Will it come after Garrett gets home from school?" It took a lot of explaining on my part that spring would last for longer than one day, but I don't think my efforts ever really sunk in -- at least not until the next day when he woke up and it was still spring and I was still pregnant.

He also has remembered me and the baby in nearly every one of his prayers. "And help the baby in Mom's tummy," and "Help the baby come out of Mom's tummy" are repeated requests. The other day during his lunchtime blessing he added a new one: "And I'm so excited to play with the baby." Given the way he takes care of his entourage of dolls and stuffed animals, I will be surprised if he exhibits much, or even any, animosity towards the newest member of our family.

Caleb's a keeper, that's for sure. I just wish more people would recognize that rather than see him as a problem who needs fixing.

my gut vs. the professionals

When I had Caleb evaluated at the school district for speech therapy services last summer, they also found that he had some sensory and fine motor skills issues that qualified him for occupational therapy as well. Seeing how much OT has helped Garrett, and noticing a few similarities between the two boys, we went ahead and accepted the additional services because at the time it felt right. And even though it's a pain to get him to his twice weekly OT sessions and make it home in time for his speech therapy, he's enjoyed himself and it's clear to me that he's benefited.

However, as I've watched him progress over the last several months, I've debated about whether or not I'd like him to continue receiving OT during his kindergarten year. He's come a long way; his fine motor skills have improved enough, in my view, to help him stay caught up at school, and we've learned how to manage his sensory issues. While he may not be "cured" (if such a thing is even possible), I think he's reached, or will reach, the point that it won't be helpful to pull him out unnecessarily from his kindergarten class. His speech therapy services, on the other hand, I fully plan to continue with. His speech is still very unclear, and correcting that is something I am not trained to do.

Recently Caleb's OT therapist noticed some additional quirks (walking on his toes rather than his heels, not alternating his feet on stairs, and an overall sense of imbalance) that would potentially require physical therapy and, with my permission, had a colleague do a basic screening. Her findings suggested that, in addition to a possible vision problem, he did indeed need PT.

The emphasis on need, however, was hers, not mine. My initial thought was, "How many therapists does one normal, if a little quirky, child need?!" followed closely by, "Is this a New York thing?" I'm totally fine with getting his vision checked out (after all, he is genetically doomed in that department), and that, in all honesty, might solve some of his balance issues. But therapy? Really? He's an adaptable boy who seems to be living a full and very happy life without it, but would I be inhibiting his potential by dismissing her advice?

So I followed up, and asked more questions, making sure to acknowledge her position as a professional. How necessary is therapy, truly? Isn't walking on his heels and alternating his feet on stairs something we can easily teach him at home? I also raised my concern that, given Caleb's personality, I thought that his being constantly pulled out of his classroom for services would be more detrimental than helpful. (And, knowing full well my own limits, I don't have the time or energy to pursue services outside of school hours.) She told me that, sure, there were things we could "fix" at home, but it was the underlying issues she was mainly concerned about. Issues, my gut feels the need to chime in, that were never a "problem" before now.

Ultimately the ball is my court. They say that they have enough evidence to easily qualify him for these additional services; I just need to call the special education coordinator at the district to get things moving. On the one hand, I don't want to dismiss this if there really is a need (and there may indeed be a real need if he'd so easily qualify) -- but on the other hand, her opinion, though professional, is also slightly biased; whoever provides the services gets paid to do so. Even the "free" services offered through the schools are given funding from the state to provide them, and, I'm told, every head counts.

It's all making my own head spin. It's hard to make big decisions so far in advance without being able to fully understand the long-term implications.

My gut, which I usually trust, since it's also usually backed by prayer, tells me to refuse the services, and ultimately that's probably what we'll choose to do. After all, downsizing services for our "normal" (all things considered) -- and thriving! -- child so he can continue to move forward in a more mainstream environment seems like a good way to go, especially for a personality like Caleb.

But still I hesitate. Is it the right choice?

new favorite

For Christmas Santa decided it was high time that Caleb got his very own copy of The Monster at the End of This Book, seeing as how he had the library's copy checked out almost continually. It is his new favorite, and it is never beyond arm's reach.

My new favorite is listening to him "read" it out loud.

what's in a name?

Having now received some pretty solid evidence that we'll be welcoming another boy (he was not shy during the ultrasound!), we've spent the last few days consumed with name brainstorming. In the process, we looked up the meanings of our other boys' names, and were surprised at how well they actually do fit the three who wear them.

Garrett Blake
Garrett means "powerful with a spear," which doesn't translate the best to his personality, except perhaps in that he occasionally takes his position as the oldest child very seriously. Blake, however, means "pale" or "white," which fits him very well indeed!

Caleb David
According to one site, Caleb means "dog," and on another it means "devoted and whole-hearted." Both work well together, as dogs are often very devoted creatures, and both fit Caleb incredibly well. Not only is he quite attached to his stuffed toy dogs, but he is devoted to every endeavor he attempts (he's the only one in our family, with the exception of his father, who will patiently stick with a difficult puzzle or challenge until he's seen it through), and he sincerely and thoughtfully shares his whole heart with others by observing and acting on the needs of those around him. David means "beloved," which, despite his quick temper, accurately describes this not-forgotten middle child of mine.

Matthew Wiest
Matthew means "gift of God," and he is truly just that. His sweet, mellow, and easy-going personality have made him the ideal third child, and he is an absolute joy to be with. Wiest is a family surname, and one website gave its meaning as "a habitational name for a place named Wiest or Wieste, near Meppen, in northeast Germany." I'm not sure if that's the region of Germany my ancestors hail from, though I suppose it's likely that at least one branch did at one time in history. At any rate, though, with his fair complexion and hair, he most definitely looks like he descends from that part of the world!


Baby Boy #4 is as yet still officially unnamed, though I think we may have settled on one we really like. Which is a relief, seeing as our well of beloved boy names, while never very full, was running particularly dry this time around. Watch for an announcement of his name in the spring once he's born.

taking picture man

Caleb has long been interested in cameras, and recently announced to me that when he grows up he wants to be a "taking picture man." After much begging on his part, along with sincere promises to be very careful, I let him use our family point-and-shoot to capture things from his point of view. When he was finished (translation: when I told him it was time to be finished) about 20 minutes later, I discovered that he'd taken well over 100 photos. I weeded through them, found a few distinct themes, and thought I'd highlight some of the better ones.


1. Vintage Video Games

2. Matthew

 3. Bookshelves

4. Walls and Floors

5. Friends on the Floor