Cubby is...different.

On the 11th of this month, I became the mother of a special needs child. I did not acquire any more children. The ones I have did not suddenly need anything more special than the day before. All that changed was a label.

For a while we have known that Cubby is different. He has an amazing memory. He can figure out mechanical things in record time (ex. all childproofing was pointless). He understands things that he shouldn't at his age. He also totally fails to understand things that he should.

At 2.5 years old he could identify all his letters (capital and lowercase) and tell you what sounds they make. He cannot answer whether he is a boy or a girl. If you ask him his name or say hello to him, he is just as likely to quote you an entire episode of Wonder Pets as give you a real answer.

When Kangaroo was born, Cubby spent a month quoting. Seriously. A month. I was the only person that he said real sentences to, and they were few and far between. It was probably another full month before he resumed eye contact. He's better than that now - at least at home. In his nursery school, he is obviously different from the 'normal' children. He watches, but doesn't participate. He quotes, but doesn't converse. When overwhelmed, he runs in circles.

We have been worried. I talked to the pediatrician, who sent me to a developmental pediatrician (which is a medical specialty I had not even heard of before). After two visits (a month apart), it required three doctors playing with my son, talking, combing through data collected from us, the school, direct observation, etc. Eventually they came to the consensus diagnosis of PDD-NOS.

For those who don't know, this stands for Pervasive Developmental Delay - Not Otherwise Specified. It's a catchall category on the end of the autism spectrum. Cubby actually shows a lot of features of Asperger's syndrome, but most doctors are not comfortable giving that diagnosis until an age of 5 or so.

This kind of explains a lot.

So I dropped off the radar for a while. I guess most of my cognitive power is being put toward adjusting to a new view of the same world. I started this blog to have an outlet. All I have done before now is try to be entertaining.

I'll still try sometimes.

Oh, and by the way, Cubby is still awesome.

Conversations with Cubby #1

We need to go to preschool camp this morning. Cubby LOVES SCHOOL. Cubby HATES PANTS.
Me: (singsong) It's time to get dre-essed!
Cubby: Umm...no.
Me: (singsong) It's time for clo-othes!
Cubby: (singsong) It's time for tru-ucks!
Me: (singsong) You're gonna wear clo-othes!
Cubby: (singsong) I'm gonna wear tru-ucks! (holds up two trucks).

There is no arguing with age 3. He's naked...and playing trucks. We're never going to get out of here this morning.

Verizon Sucks

I need a new cell phone. An explanation of what happened to my old phone will not be forthcoming because rehashing it could jeopardize my marriage. I left Husbear at home with Cubby while Kangaroo and I went out to price phones. First stop was Verizon, where we have our current plans. They were packed, and after 20 or so minutes of feeling like I don’t exist, I left. After trying a few more places, I returned and was now the only customer there.

PG (Phone girl): May I help you?
Me: I need to buy a new phone, but we have your minimum plan and we only use about a fifth of the minutes. I wanted to look at your prepaid plans. We don’t want to sign a contract.
PG: (Long explanation of the fact that the cheapest prepaid plan would cost EXACTLY what we are paying now).
Me: Well, that’s kinda pointless. How much would it be for me to buy a replacement phone for the one that was destroyed?
PG: That would depend.
Me: On what?
PG: On how much time is left on your contract.
Me: We’re out of contract and I don’t want to sign another. How much are the phones without a contract?
PG: I’ll have to get the manager.
(She and the manager take another 10 minutes to look up my account on the computer).
Manager: (Shaking his head like a doctor over a dying patient) I’m sorry. I can’t give you a free phone.
Me: I never asked for a free phone. I asked how much to BUY a phone.
Manager: That depends.
Me: On what?
Manager: On how much time is left on your contract.
Me: As I’m sure you can see on your computer, we are out of contract. I do not want to sign another. How do I find out the price of a phone WITHOUT a contract?
Manager: (Sighs, and points to Phone Girl) Ask her.
Me: (to Phone Girl) What’s your cheapest phone?
PG: It’s over here. It’s $29.99.
Me: Without a contract?
PG: With a two-year contract.
Me: I’m not signing a contract. How much is it WITHOUT a contract?
PG: Well, probably like 50 bucks or something with a 1-year contract.
Me: I think I hate you.
PG: Um…what?
Me: Sorry. Just checking to see if you were listening. I’ve said several times that I will NOT be signing a contract. What will the phone cost with NO CONTRACT SIGNING OF ANY KIND?
PG: $169.99
Me: Ok. I think I’ll look elsewhere. I’m not sure it’s worth it.
PG: Have you thought about our prepaid plans?
Me: Where have I just been? Didn’t we discuss this?
PG: Um…what?
Me: I have to leave now. Before Rod Serling shows up.
PG: Um…what?

As I leave, I discover that the thing on my keys that unlocks my car is broken. I’d call my husband, but I don’t have a phone.

Cubby Sings

Cubby walks around here singing various things to himself. Lately he's been singing "I Wear No Pants" from that Dockers' Super Bowl commercial (which a quick internet search reveals is sung by a band called the Poxy Boggards).
Just now Cubby was walking down the front hall proudly singing this to me...while wearing no pants. He has liberated himself from his Pull-Up and is celebrating in song.

The Comedy and Tragedy of Naptime

Kangaroo and Cubby have been put down for nap. Before having two kids I believed that during times like these a mother could either be productive or get some rest. Remember children, nothing ever looks in person the way it does in the brochures.

Here is today's naptime summary for your reading pleasure.

2:05 pm - I bring Cubby up to his room. He climbs willingly into his bed, snuggles his teddy bear, wriggles into the blankets and says, "Good nap, Mommy". "Good nap, sweetie", I reply.

2:07 pm -I return to the livingroom, clean up a mild toynado, then sit and close my eyes.

2:09 pm - Footsteps from upstairs indicate that Cubby has given up on napping.

2:14 pm - I look in on Cubby, who looks up at me from the center of a brand new toynado, smiles, then climbs back into bed. I return downstairs.

2:22 pm - From upstairs I hear, WHAM!....."I'm okay!"

2:23 pm - I look in on Cubby, who is standing on his toybox. He smiles, then climbs back into bed. I return downstairs.

2:24 pm - I start doing the dishes.

2:25 pm - Kangaroo begins fussing in his bassinet. I stop washing dishes and go to pick him up. As I reach for him, he farts loudly, smiles, then falls back to sleep.

2:26 pm - I take a call from someone who has the wrong number. This person then calls back TWICE MORE just to make sure.

2:30 pm - I resume the dishes.

2:35 pm - Kangaroo starts crying and smacking his lips. I sit with him, and open my shirt to nurse him. Instead of eating he lays his cheek on my breast and falls instantly back to sleep.

2:41 pm - From upstairs I hear the repeated thumps of what I believe to be alphabet blocks being thrown over Cubby's baby gate and into the hallway.

2:43 pm - The thumps have gotten larger. He's obviously run out of blocks and is throwing random toys.

2:50 pm - Kangaroo wakes up and decides to actually eat.

2:54 pm - Cubby starts to cry. He's calling downstairs, "Mommy! I stuck! I can't get out!". He doesn't seem to realize that the baby gate is closed on purpose.

3:02 pm - I burp Kangaroo, who throws up down the front of my shirt, then smiles.

3:03 pm - I put him into his bouncy chair, then go upstairs to change my shirt. I see the toynado in the hallway. It's huge. Cubby sees me, looks sheepish, then climbs back into bed.

3:10 pm - I go to the fridge, realize that I am out of wine, then start blogging as a form of therapy.

I realize now that the dishes are not done.

Letters From the Livingroom

I have recently become a stay-at-home mom. This has resulted in an intimate knowledge of my livingroom. Not only is it cozy (real estate speak for tiny) but I have to put it back together at least once an hour. I have a toddler. My little Cubby is on a fixed action pattern that pretty much goes as follows:
1) Remove couch cushions
2) Bounce on couch cushions
3) Ask Mommy to go "bouncy bounce", meaning go on the neighbor's trampoline, fall to the ground and cry when she says no.
4) Wait for Mommy to stupidly replace couch cushions then...
5) Go to the hall closet and pull out the vacuum. Drag the cord all around the livingroom until firmly lodged around every chair/table leg.
6) Wait for Mommy to stupidly start winding the cord, then...
7) Go to the cupboard and open the goldfish crackers/cookies/graham crackers/etc.
8) Wait for Mommy to stupidly attempt to replace snacks and close cupboard, then...
9) Take baby brother Kangaroo's binky/blanket/etc.
10) Wait for Mommy to attempt to replace binky/blanket/etc, then...
11) Revert to step 1 and remove couch cushions.

Repeat.

Somehow I am more tired than I was before I stopped working. Weird.